"This trajectory's all wrong… I might need to bail out, V."
Karl muttered just as the heavy-duty truck slammed into Orianna and Gilay's car from the side. The small coupe was launched into the air, spinning violently, completely powerless against the impact.
The car twisted in midair, spiraled several times, then clipped a nearby vehicle and finally crashed hard into the ground.
Boom—
Glass shards and scattered parts exploded into the air. Gilay was flung from the wreckage, rolling across the ground before landing in a heap, groaning in pain, blood covering his face.
He wasn't dead. Thanks to the Titan-class subdermal plating on his upper body and the constant stream of Animal Gang-grade stims, he was still breathing. But his right leg had twisted at an unnatural angle. The pain had him howling and cursing.
"Who the hell… Which bastard did this?!"
Through clenched teeth and curses, Gilay still clutched the box tightly to his chest. He steadied himself on the ground and looked toward the car, trying to find out who had hit them.
And what he saw was Orianna, lying motionless beside the vehicle.
Both had survived, somehow. But while Gilay's injury was bad, Orianna's condition was worse. Thrown clear of the car, she was now coughing up blood, unable to even sit up.
Still conscious, Orianna looked at Gilay, her voice barely audible.
"Help… me… Gilay…"
Help her?
Gilay turned and saw four people climbing down from the truck, walking straight toward Orianna. Noticing her plea, they glanced at him. The one leading the group casually gestured—an unspoken message: You can go.
Under any other circumstances, Gilay might've limped over and picked a fight with them, even on one leg. But seeing Orianna's condition, and more importantly, feeling the box pressed to his chest, he didn't hesitate. He got up and limped away, abandoning her without a second thought.
She looked half-dead anyway. The attackers were clearly after her, not him. In moments like this, survival came first.
Twenty minutes wasn't a lot of time. He needed to find a ride and get this box to Colmec. As for Orianna—well, he could always come back later to collect the body.
"Gilay… you fucking bastard…"
Watching him walk away without even a pause, Orianna realized something was terribly wrong. She turned her head—and sure enough, armed figures were approaching her.
What the hell… Enemies? Now? Seriously?!
"Who… are you…?" she asked weakly.
She wanted to fight. But her body wouldn't respond. All she could do was curl up and watch them close in.
"We're nobody."
To her surprise, they didn't kill her. Despite causing the crash, they didn't finish her off. In fact, their eyes showed concern—like they were worried about her condition.
As if she wasn't allowed to die yet.
The leader knelt and injected a dose of Rejuvenol into her. It didn't heal her, but it stabilized her condition, slowing the bleeding.
"Is this your apology for the crash? 'Cause that ain't enough. Where's your medic?"
"There's no medic. And don't expect mercy."
The man stood. The four of them surrounded Orianna, standing at the cardinal points around her, looming like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Blood continued to drip from her wounds. Through the sound of it hitting the pavement, Orianna heard a car engine.
A vehicle pulled up beside her. A man stepped out, his shoes crunching into the blood-soaked concrete.
"How pathetic."
The familiar voice reached her ears. She looked up, struggling to see through the haze.
And there he was, silhouetted by the neon lights of Night City—his face hidden in shadow.
"Looks like you weren't good enough to pass my test, Orianna."
"Aison… Brane…"
Her eyes finally adjusted. She saw his face—and her mind flooded with questions.
"What the fuck are you doing…?"
Aison had given them the box, claimed it belonged to the TCU, then sent people to intercept it. What was this lunatic playing at?
"Some people think a handshake builds trust. I don't," Aison said, staring down at her. "I only trust those who carry my blood. But even that… only leads to betrayal. Are you feeling it yet? The betrayal of a teammate? Of your own blood?"
"What the hell are you even talking about?"
"I'm saying you're pathetic, Orianna. My niece."
Niece?
The word hit her like a truck. Her eyes went wide.
This psycho just said what?
"My sister betrayed me," Aison continued, idly twirling a golden curved blade.
"Back in the day, she and I were legends in Night City. The two of us together—unstoppable. We took down gangs with nothing but a blade. Half the city feared us. I thought it would last forever.
"Then, thirty years ago… it all ended."
He wasn't in a hurry to kill her. Instead, he signaled for another dose of Rejuvenol to keep her conscious.
"She was ambushed by those who feared us. When I arrived… nothing was left but an arm. I spent thirty years hunting the people responsible."
He dropped the blade beside her, embedding it in the blood-soaked dirt.
"I left the Valentinos—gave up everything. My whole life became that hunt. But then, I saw you."
Aison's expression twisted into a bitter grin.
"There you were, rising up the merc ranks. Looking just like my sister. Moving like her. It was uncanny.
"I thought—this can't be a coincidence."
He covered his face.
"I believed blood would never betray me. But it did. My sister didn't die. She faked it. Left the gang. Got married. Had a kid.
"A happy life."
His laughter was manic, breathless.
"When I saw her living peacefully… I realized something.
"She's already dead.
"The one living now? That's the bitch who murdered my sister. The one who made me waste my life chasing shadows.
"Simple as that."
HAHAHAHAHA—
He laughed like a man unhinged. Orianna's face was frozen. His laughter made her throat go dry.
"You're insane."
"I am."
He bent down, picked up the blade, and stood tall. His back straightened—like a rifle.
In that moment, the legend of the Valentinos was back.
"Any last words?"
Oddly enough, he sounded almost sincere.
Orianna took a breath.
"Just one question."
Despite the blood loss, her mind was clear.
"That box… It's not TCU's, is it?"
"Of course not," Aison said with a smile.
"If it were, my enemy might get caught in the crossfire. But revenge? That I handle personally."
So that's it…
Vayla wouldn't be dragged into this.
Thinking of her eight-year-old daughter—conceived in a moment of recklessness—Orianna reflected on her life.
Anything to regret?
Not selling out Gilay and Colmec? Not confronting her useless father? Not talking things out with her corpo girlfriend?
No… not really.
Her mother could handle this lunatic. Everything Orianna knew came from her.
Shame she didn't get to show what she was made of.
But that's okay.
She learned her skills to fend off creeps on camping trips. Making it this far… wasn't so bad.
Blood. Revenge…
As Orianna closed her eyes, Aison raised the golden blade.
His hand was steady—as steady as thirty years ago.
But not as steady… as Karl's finger tapping a screen.
Beep.
A ringtone echoed nearby. Aison and his men turned.
Karl stood, holding a phone.
"KK!"
Nobody in Night City didn't know that name.
Even Aison froze.
He knew KK was the guarantor—but he thought the package had gone with Gilay. That was why he let him go.
So why… was KK standing right here?
"You're under my guarantee."
But KK wasn't talking to Aison.
"Officer, there's been a deliberate crash here. People are hurt. Under Night City law—you should act."
He's calling the cops?!
"The call's already made," came a calm voice.
A man in NCPD uniform walked up slowly, phone still in hand.
"I saw it too."
He wasn't looking at Aison. His eyes were on the wrecked vehicle nearby.
A family car—collateral damage. A mother and child lay beside it, wounded but treated.
"Revenge is fine," Karl said. "But leave the innocent out of it. Or I will call the police."
Buzz.
The NCPD officer's baton crackled with electricity.
"I'm placing you under arrest. Don't resist."
This wasn't the old NCPD. These were elite officers. And Aison? Just a relic of the past.
"This isn't thirty years ago anymore," Karl said, lowering his phone and meeting Aison's gaze.
"In Night City today, revenge doesn't justify collateral damage."
Karl never harmed the innocent.
He played by the rules.
And those rules? Were the same as the NCPD Special Task Force.
If a legend from the red-stained streets of the past wanted to operate now—
He had to accept the rules of the present.
This wasn't the Valentinos' Night City.
This was 2076.
And the most famous merc in Night City…
Was KK.
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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