Three Badasses

Unlike in Atlanta, gangs in Night City were behemoths in their own right.

Even among organizations made up of veterans, Atlanta's Veterans Association probably had members with much higher military ranks.

But in terms of their place in the city's ecosystem, Sixth Street stood considerably higher.

Sixth Street and the other gangs of Night City were essentially large, organized criminal outfits, already halfway into corporate territory-in plain terms, they were half a step from becoming corporations.

They had their own people, their own businesses, and even their own laws.

Bottom-rung work like robbery, extortion, and intimidation was left to the punks who had just joined.

The real members of Sixth Street wore combat boots, tactical vests, knee pads, and cargo pants. Only after completing professional training did they become full members, known as "Recruits."

Those a rank higher, such as Sixth Street's boss, "the Sergeant," wore baseball caps bearing the old American flag and eagle insignia, and talked business across a table.

What business? Arms dealing.

Gun smuggling was Sixth Street's hottest industry. They sold a full thirty percent of the illegal guns on Night City's black market, and secretly manufactured large quantities of ammunition of varying quality for sale every year.

Besides the arms trade, they also maintained close ties with the Nomads outside Night City, who served as strategic partners in their smuggling operations.

Sixth Street also had plenty of excellent technicians. They salvaged used vehicles or bought cheap ones, then modified them into armed vehicles for sale. That business was no small matter either, and was quite popular among mercenaries.

And the reason they could operate on such a large scale... lay in their corporate connections.

Certain military-oriented corporations used their connections with Sixth Street to sell specialized, high-end products to particular clients.

That was also why laws had been passed recognizing Sixth Street's legal existence.

And all those businesses overlapped heavily with the Valentinos' operations.

Naturally, Padre kept a close eye on them:

"You have a few options. First is the arms dealer on Woodhaven Street, the Rama Arsenal.

"The owner is a woman with Nomad connections. She can smuggle weapons elsewhere, or run them across the border before reselling them.

"Second is the 'factory' across from Wollerson Street. There's a professional reseller there who used to work in corporate sales and still has a few corporate connections.

"Neither of them belongs to Sixth Street. They're secondary distributors the gang has coerced into cooperating. They run their own businesses and occasionally help move hot merchandise. They'd suit you well.

"Exactly how you go about it will depend on what intelligence you can get."

Padre handed over two Shards.

Lier thought for a moment, then said, "Can I choose both?"

"Of course, my child. But bite off more than you can chew, and you'll choke. I suggest you think carefully before acting."

Lier swept both Shards together with his palm. "Thank you for the advice. Also, I actually have some secondhand cyberware to get rid of.

"You know, the kind Vic doesn't want to touch. Stripped off Sixth Street members."

"I didn't realize you had that sort of talent, too. But the Scavengers' work is filthy and foul, and Heywood has no love for them. You could try the Coast of Preaching.

"There's an unlicensed ripperdoc there who'll take any dirty merchandise-though I think Sixth Street has wanted to replace him for a while."

"Got it. Thanks, Padre. You've been a huge help."

"You're welcome. You're all children of Heywood. Helping one another is only right."

After saying goodbye to Padre, the three returned to Jackie's garage.

They spent some time going through the Shards. By the time Jackie and V pulled theirs out, Lier had already drawn the key points on the wall.

Jackie looked puzzled. "So what are we doing here? I get finding someone to move the goods, but what does that have to do with Sixth Street?"

Lier explained, "What V and I did in Atlanta, and what the three of us did at the border, were too big. Padre's busy going up against Sixth Street right now. He can't easily handle this.

"Remember, the Valentinos don't have any corporate clients they're particularly close to. He doesn't want the corporations setting their sights on him.

"So if we want to move this shipment quickly, we have to find buyers ourselves. There are always buyers. We just won't have a fixer taking the risk for us."

The Valentinos were themselves a large criminal enterprise, holding their ground in Night City through the loyalty between their members.

They were a foul pile of shit that was tough to chew through-but if a corporation really wanted to take a bite, it could pour resources into Sixth Street and let them do the chewing. Padre wouldn't be able to hold out against that.

"But... the corporations get screwed over in Night City every day. It can't be that serious, right?" Jackie scratched his head.

He didn't really understand why they needed to be so cautious.

As far as he was concerned, as long as you didn't die on the job, everything was fine.

V, who had spent some time in Atlanta, understood better. In Atlanta, once you committed a crime, the pursuit never stopped until you were brought to justice.

It wasn't like Night City, where you could scan a couple of random street punks and find NCPD arrest warrants on both of them-

Even NCPD cops would pretend not to see them, as long as they weren't committing a crime right in front of them.

If they angered a corporation, V still remembered that Cybermonster, Nott. Who knew how many more like him the corporations had?

"It is that serious. Anyway, we have to handle this ourselves. We'll need to spin plenty of lies and go through plenty of middlemen to cover our tracks.

"But... if we pull it off, we'll be genuine big shots from then on. That much I can guarantee.

"Want to have a drink at the Afterlife?"

At the word "Afterlife," Jackie's eyes lit up, and V looked interested too.

The Afterlife was every Night City street kid's dream-every one of them thought it was a place where they could strike it rich.

It was where Night City's best fixers mingled with its top mercenaries. If you wanted to become a legend, a visit to the Afterlife was a mandatory stop along the way.

V shrugged. "If we could spread the word about what we've done, Rog would probably be asking us to take a job before the night was out. Too bad we've got a..."

She trailed off and glanced at Jackie. The two exchanged a knowing look-

Yeah, a sneaky bastard.

"Fame, money, and your life. You have to give up one of them. At least for now."

Lier ignored the looks those two idiots were exchanging and rapped his erasable paint marker hard against the wall, like a teacher in class.

"Back to the point. This is a big job. We're going to rob Sixth Street until they can't do business. Until suppliers, distributors, and customers can't operate without our permission."

"That's it?" V sounded surprised. "I thought you were about to launch into another pile of maneuvers I couldn't understand."

"When in Rome. We'll play by Night City's rules."

"But..." Jackie looked worried. "Sixth Street has thousands of people. What do we do if they really come after us and won't let go?"

"They won't admit it. If someone beats them into submission, that someone can only be the Valentinos. Padre isn't an idiot either."

V suddenly caught on. "Wait... so if we fail, we get dumped in the river. If we succeed, it's all thanks to Padre's brilliant leadership?"

Lier nodded.

"Then what's in it for us?"

"Money. Have you never wondered why fixers can make so much just sitting there, while you bust your ass as a merc and only get a tiny cut?

"Besides, that's the story they'll spread, but every fixer will know that three badasses crushed Sixth Street and forced them to bow their heads to the Valentinos."

Of course, Lier had concealed his real intention-he wanted to wade into these murky waters and build his data barriers. The other reasons were merely surface-level concerns.

But that pitch-three badasses kicking Sixth Street's ass and forcing them to bow their heads to the Valentinos?

V and Jackie exchanged a look. Now that sounded interesting.

"All right, but let me correct you. One badass guy, one badass girl, and one... you count as half a person, at most."

"Heh. Fuck off, dumbass. So-everyone in?"

"Of course." Jackie flexed his thick arms. "After they attacked us a couple of days ago, it's not like we can pretend nothing happened."

V shrugged. "Big jobs are more fun anyway."

Lier smiled and tapped his paint marker against the female arms dealer's location near the edge of Santo Domingo.

"First target: Rochelle Kaplan. Let's see what shipments she still has on the road."

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