As soon as the transport vehicle's taillights disappeared around the corner of Charter Hill, Jackie impatiently turned around, flashing his signature brilliant smile, and clapped the person next to him on the shoulder: "Let's go! Everyone follow me! To the Wolf's Den Bar—my treat! The best drinks, the most authentic Heywood flavor. Tonight, I must give you a proper welcome!"
David apologetically explained that he needed to take his mother to the hospital arranged by the administrator first.
Jackie understood and gave his young companion a firm hug, then nodded to Gloria: "Don't worry, Auntie, everything is arranged there. We'll catch up later!"
He watched the vehicle carrying the mother and son drive away before turning around.
Facing Valerie and the entire Maine's crew, Jackie's smile grew even wider, and his voice unconsciously became a little louder: "Alright, big shots! Now it's my turn to play host."
He spread his arms, making an exaggerated inviting gesture, "Let me show you what real Heywood style is all about!"
He took the lead, deliberately lengthening his strides, walking ahead with that characteristic swagger of the streets.
Maine silently followed behind, his massive physique and new Sandevistan cyberware giving him an undeniable sense of oppressive power with every step.
Dorio stayed by his side, her keen eyes scanning the orderly streets.
Lucy and Kiwi walked quietly side by side. As netrunners, they could clearly perceive the omnipresent monitoring data streams in the environment.
Rebecca was still her energetic self, bouncing around and looking everywhere, full of curiosity about the refreshed streetscape.
Valerie walked at the end of the group, her mechanical prosthetics emitting a faint whirring sound. Her expression was calm, but her keen gaze caught the subtle, hard-to-hide uneasiness behind Jackie's overly enthusiastic demeanor.
Jackie's thoughts were not hard to guess.
Maine's crew was now a true legend in Night City. Their feat of destroying Arasaka Tower had made them mythical figures in the mercenary world, and the top-tier cyberware enhancing each of them was a walking symbol of their strength.
And Valerie, the former corporate executive, was now a test pilot for that mysterious "Archmagos," driving the red power armor that made all military contractors green with envy, her status extraordinary.
In contrast, he himself, though also a follower of Osiris, was mostly "idle," either wandering in Wasteland Town or joking around with the new recruits of the Wraiths, with no real accomplishments to show for it.
This disparity was undoubtedly a torment for someone like Jackie Welles, who valued loyalty and reputation.
He desperately needed to regain some sense of control and respect in this familiar territory, his own turf.
The group walked through the streets of Heywood District.
Compared to the almost rigid order of the municipal center, the control here seemed slightly looser, as if the administrator's system still had room for penetration in this area, or rather, was intentionally observing the natural reactions of this traditional district.
Young people still gathered in small groups on street corners, but they no longer made uncontrolled noise or openly traded contraband.
Most of them just stood silently or talked in low voices, their eyes vigilantly scanning their surroundings.
When Jackie's imposing group passed by, especially the oppressive presence of Maine's mobile fortress-like physique, these young people instinctively reined in their posture, either averting their gaze or lowering their heads slightly, revealing an instinctive caution in the face of power.
Their street clothes were still flamboyant, but that flamboyance seemed to be mixed with a hint of carefulness in seeking a space to survive under the new rules.
A squad of Militech patrol soldiers in standard gray uniforms marched in neat steps from the opposite direction.
Their scanners silently swept over everyone, lingering for a moment on Maine and Valerie.
However, they did not approach to question or provoke like corporate security forces in the past. The leading sergeant seemed to have received relevant identification information in advance, merely nodding slightly to Jackie and the others from a distance before continuing along their predetermined route, like machines following a fixed program.
This restrained, data-driven mode of interaction was itself a manifestation of how the new order operated.
In the air, the familiar scent of Heywood streets—a mixture of cheap spiced food, tobacco, and sweat—still lingered, but the tension brought by the blatant illegality and violence of the past had dissipated, replaced by a more subdued, yet more predictable, atmosphere.
Pedestrians hurried along the streets, seemingly clear about their destinations and behavioral boundaries. The former chaos and spontaneity were being constrained by an invisible framework.
Finally, the familiar sign of the "Wolf's Den" bar appeared before them.
The neon tubes were still lit, outlining the wolf's head, but the usual hustle and bustle were absent from the entrance. Only a few scattered customers entered and exited, a far cry from Jackie's memories.
"Hey! Mom! I'm back!" Jackie pushed open the bar door, shouting loudly, trying to use his volume to dispel the lingering desolation.
Inside the bar, under the familiar dim lights, the air still mixed with the scent of alcohol, cleaner, and old leather, but without the buzz of a crowded space, this familiarity carried a hint of loneliness.
Mrs. Welles was standing behind the bar, intently wiping glasses. Hearing the sound, she suddenly looked up.
Seeing her son appear before her, safe and sound, her face instantly broke into a genuine smile, and the wrinkles around her eyes smoothed out.
"Jackie! My boy!" She immediately put down the glass in her hand, quickly came out from behind the bar, and gave her son a strong hug, patting his back with both hands. Then she pulled back slightly, examining his face carefully, "A little thinner, but you look good! It's good that you're alright, it's good!"
Her tone was full of undisguised concern.
"Mom, I'm really fine!" Jackie released the hug, a relaxed smile on his face, and casually brought Valerie next to him forward to his mother, "See, V came back with me."
Valerie naturally stepped forward, a gentle smile on her face: "Mrs. Welles, long time no see."
"V!" Mrs. Welles' eyes lit up, and she immediately opened her arms to give her a firm hug, gently patting her back, "It really has been a long time! It's good to see you both back safe and sound."
She let go, casting a slightly chiding glance at Jackie, "This guy didn't cause you any trouble, did he?"
"Mom!" Jackie deliberately raised his voice in protest, then stepped aside to make space, gesturing towards Maine's crew members, his tone becoming a little more formal, "These are my current partners—Maine, Dorio, Lucy, Kiwi, and Rebecca. They are all top-notch professionals, and I owe them a lot for looking after me this time."
Mrs. Welles' gaze quickly swept over the new faces, lingering for a moment longer on the burly Maine and the lively Rebecca, then she broke into the hearty smile typical of a bar owner: "Welcome, everyone! Don't just stand at the door, come in and sit down. Order whatever you want, the first round tonight is on me!"
As she spoke, she stepped aside to clear the way, and at the same time, habitually wiped the glasses she had just placed on the bar, deftly preparing to receive guests.