Maine was undoubtedly the core pillar of the entire crew.
He was a veteran Edgerunner, the kind whose reputation alone was enough to make Fixers pause before speaking. Among the regulars of the Afterlife, his strength ranked near the top—something immediately obvious just by looking at his two massive gorilla arms, each thicker than James's thighs.
At a glance, it was impossible to identify the exact model of Maine's cyberware. His implants had been heavily modified, customized far beyond factory specifications by his ripperdoc. This kind of private alteration was common among Edgerunners. After all, most cyberware circulating on the streets was outdated civilian stock—cheap, mass-produced, and completely inadequate for real combat.
But private modifications came at a cost.
Every extra enhancement placed a heavier burden on the user's body and mind. In most cases, such extreme cyberization led to instability, system rejection, or worse—cyberpsychosis.
Yet Maine looked… fine.
Relaxed. Comfortable. In control.
That alone said everything. His body and willpower were still holding strong—for now.
Nestled casually in his arms was Dorio, his girlfriend and the team's anchor in close combat. The two looked strikingly compatible. Dorio's physique was powerful, her muscles dense and well-earned—not through cyberware, but relentless physical training.
There were rumors, of course—about hormone boosters and combat supplements—but whatever the case, Dorio was undeniably strong.
Her appearance confused people at first glance. Sharp features, broad shoulders, and a commanding presence made it hard to categorize her immediately—but once she moved, the ambiguity vanished. She was dangerous, especially up close.
Despite lacking combat cyberware, Dorio was a frontline fighter and one of the team's main pillars.
The final member present was Pilar.
Currently, he was harassing a dancer from across the room, leering openly, his poorly fitted cybernetic limbs making him look more like a malfunctioning machine than a human. His presence alone warped the atmosphere.
"Had enough?!"
Rebecca finally snapped.
She jumped up and smashed a bottle against Pilar's head.
The impact shut him up instantly, sending him slumping back into his seat, dazed.
Pilar slowly raised his overextended tech arm, pushed his sunglasses up with his middle finger, and squinted at James.
A wide, crooked grin spread across his face.
"Ohhh? Rebecca's finally grown up?" he laughed. "Found herself a man now, huh? We definitely gotta celebrate."
Before he could finish—
Bang.
Rebecca struck him again.
"Shut up, you trash brother! This is BT!"
The moment the name landed, Pilar sprang back to life.
He rushed James, eyes blazing with excitement, grabbing his arm with both hands.
"You're BT?!" he shouted. "I knew it! The blueprints—you're insane! Absolutely insane! We have to talk!"
The enthusiasm was overwhelming, but James didn't pull away. Pilar might be unbearable, but his technical skills were real—and useful.
"I've heard of you," Maine said, finally speaking up. "Didn't expect to meet you here. Sit. Drink."
Maine stood, towering over James, and gestured broadly.
"I'm Maine. This is Dorio—my woman. The rest you already know."
Despite his intimidating appearance, Maine's tone was surprisingly open.
James accepted the drink Rebecca handed him and raised his glass.
"BT's just a work name," he said calmly. "Call me James."
Maine laughed. "Works for me."
James blended into the group naturally. He didn't act like a rookie, nor did he flaunt his reputation. That alone earned respect.
"In Afterlife," Maine said after a while, "first-timers always catch Rogue's eye. If she offers you work, take it. Do well, and you might even work under her."
Then he shook his head.
"But you're a solo. She's probably enough for you. We're different—we need new Fixers."
Maine explained his situation openly. His team had outgrown Wakako's jobs. They needed corporate-tier resources—better contracts, better gear.
That was why he'd turned to the Afterlife.
"And today," Maine continued, lowering his voice, "we're meeting a new Fixer."
Rebecca leaned in. Dorio listened quietly.
James already had a guess.
"Faraday," Maine said. "New face. Corporate connections. Militech-adjacent."
James kept his expression neutral.
Maine had made a terrible bet—but that wasn't his call to make.
"Then I wish you luck," James said, clinking glasses with him.
The truth was, Maine wasn't stupid. He was ambitious. Driven. His obsession with power ran deep, visible in every implant he carried.
Everyone in Night City was broken in their own way.
Maine's madness was simply louder.
---
"I'm heading out," Sasha suddenly said.
Rebecca looked surprised. "Now?"
"Solo gig," Sasha replied calmly.
That was normal. Team jobs were rare. Individual contracts kept the lights on.
"I'll go with you," James said.
Sasha tilted her head, eyes bright. "You skipping the Fixer?"
"Not interested."
Maine chuckled knowingly. "Then I'll entrust Miss Cat to you."
Pilar exploded in protest.
Rebecca kicked him off the couch.
---
Night had deepened by the time James and Sasha reached Corpo Plaza.
Rain had stopped—for now.
"What's the job?" James asked casually.
"Stealing biotech data."
He stopped walking.
Sasha blinked. "Problem?"
"You call that small?"
She shrugged. "Routine."
The biotech tower loomed ahead, lights still burning.
"You can leave me here," Sasha said.
"No," James replied. "I brought you. I'll wait."
Sasha smiled, handed him a piece of orange gum, and slipped inside.
---
Minutes later—
Explosions.
Glass shattered.
A body fell.
James activated his grappling hooks and caught Sasha mid-air, stabilizing her descent with his rocket pack.
Rain returned, mixing with blood.
"Miss Cat," James said calmly, "you really need to lose some weight."
Sasha laughed weakly.
"I'm alive…?"
"Yes," James said, injecting a Type-1 Triage. "Try not to scare me like that again."
"Cold…" Sasha murmured. "Hold me tighter?"
He did.
From an angle he couldn't see—
Sasha smiled.
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