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"An underground clinic?"
Jackie stared at the yellowed, flickering medical sign in front of him, genuinely surprised to find a hidden ripper-joint in this sector of the slums. More importantly, he couldn't fathom why anyone would seek treatment here. It wasn't just low-budget; it was a death wish.
"Hey, kid. Who are you waiting for?"
Jackie's gaze shifted to a plastic chair by the entrance. A young man with a distinctive punk-styled mohawk, dressed in a tattered Arasaka Academy uniform, slowly raised his head. His eyes were glazed with confusion, as if asking: Are you talking to me?
"Is there anyone else here?" Jackie noted the Arasaka logo on the boy's chest, his brow furrowing. "A young master from the Academy? How desperate do you have to be to end up in a place like this?"
"I'm not... forget it. It's none of your business," the boy muttered.
David instinctively wanted to snap back, but his mind was in chaos. His mother was currently behind the closed doors of the operating room, and he didn't have the energy to trade barbs with a mountain of muscle like Jackie.
"That's where you're wrong, choomba."
Jackie sat down next to David, his massive frame physically displacing the slender boy. David's anger flared for a split second, but he caught a glimpse of the heavy chrome on Jackie's arms and decided to endure it.
"What kind of 'hospital' do you think this is?" Jackie asked, offering David a half-empty can of synth-booze, his tone laced with grim mockery.
"What do you mean?" David's heart sank. A cold premonition washed over him.
"This is a Scavenger slaughterhouse. The medical firm R.E.O. has been a hollow shell for years. They don't save people anymore—they harvest them."
The name hit David like a physical blow. R.E.O. was where his mother worked, providing low-tier medical aid to the poverty-stricken of Santo Domingo. When the Trauma Team monopoly had crushed their margins, they had turned to the black market.
"Then my mother—!" David shot to his feet, eyes wide with terror.
BANG.
A gunshot echoed from deep within the clinic. The emergency room door was violently kicked open. A "surgeon" in a blood-stained transparent apron rushed out, his face a mask of panic.
The panic froze into a permanent expression. Jackie's golden pistol, the "Badass Bitch," was already leveled at the man's forehead. One shot later, the hallway was silent.
David stood frozen, but his terror for his mother outweighed his fear of the merc. He sprinted past Jackie and into the operating room.
"Damn, kid's fast," Jackie muttered, tapping the butt of his gun against his temple. He wasn't worried about the kid being a threat; he was worried that Kael—who was currently "clearing" the room—might zero the boy by mistake.
Jackie stayed at the door, covering the exit to ensure no cockroaches escaped. "Good luck, kid," he whispered.
Inside the operating room, David didn't move. He couldn't even breathe. A cold, thin line was coiled around his neck—an unheated Monowire. It hadn't been activated yet, but it was taut enough to slice through his carotid artery like a hot wire through butter.
If Kael hadn't called out to Lucy at that exact moment, David would have been a headless corpse.
"Let him go, Luce. He's not on the manifest," Kael said, waving a hand.
Lucy retracted the shimmering wire, returning to Kael's side with a fluid, predatory grace. David stared at her, certain that she had truly intended to kill him. The taste of copper and fear filled his mouth, but he forced himself to look at Kael.
"I'm here for my mom..." David managed to choke out.
"Your mom?" Kael gestured toward a dismembered female corpse on the central table. "You mean this one?"
"MOM?!"
David scrambled toward the table, his vision blurring. But as he reached the side, he saw a face that wasn't hers. Color returned to his pale skin. "No... thank god, no."
"Not that one? Well, feel free to check the 'surplus' pile," Kael noted, pointing to a corner where a heap of discarded limbs and torsos lay like discarded mannequins.
David fought the urge to vomit as he dug through the remains, his hands trembling. He found nothing. He looked up at Kael, helpless.
"Alright, quit the puppy-dog eyes. I'm not into guys," Kael sighed. He nodded to Lucy, who immediately jacked into the local network.
"She was never scheduled for surgery," Lucy reported, her eyes glowing blue. "They threw her in the morgue. They didn't even bother harvesting her while she was warm. No valuable chrome, and Santo Domingo lungs aren't worth the freezer space."
In Night City, the poor were too polluted to even be useful as scrap.
David sprinted to the morgue and found her. Gloria was alive—barely. He tried to lift her, but Kael's voice stopped him at the threshold.
"Think, kid. If you had the means to save her, she wouldn't be in a Scavenger hole. Put her on the table."
David hesitated, then realized Kael was right. He retreated and knelt before the stranger.
"Why are you kneeling? Get her on the damn table!" Kael snapped. He was here to fulfill a Wakako contract to wipe this cell, but he wasn't a monster.
Kael scanned Gloria with his Kiroshis. The injuries weren't fatal, but her body was failing from years of exhaustion and environmental toxins. "You don't look like her. She's much prettier."
David said nothing. He couldn't afford to offend the man who held his mother's life in his hands.
"Out," Kael commanded, tossing David his mother's coat. "Luce, sterilize the kit. I'm doing an open-chest bypass. I don't need a teenager babbling in my ear while I work."
The surgery was a success. Kael's "Technical Genius" applied to biological systems just as easily as it did to drones. He stabilized her with a dose of Forticon Type III and stitched her up with military precision.
Gloria opened her eyes, her vision focusing on Kael's face. "Who... where am I?"
"Scavenger turf," Kael said simply. Gloria's vitals spiked in panic. "Relax. If they wanted you dead, you'd be in a box by now."
"Kid, get in here," Kael called out. David rushed in, nearly tackling his mother before Kael caught him by the collar. "Easy! I just patched her up!"
Gloria smiled weakly, stroking her son's hair. "Thank this gentleman, David."
"Thank you... so much," David whispered, fighting back tears.
"Save the sentiment," Kael said. "Jackie, give them a lift home. Consider it a favor."
"No problem, brother," Jackie's voice boomed from the hall.
As David wheeled his mother out, Gloria looked at Kael one last time. "Wait... I never got your name."
"He's BT," Jackie answered for him.
"The famous BT," Kael corrected, earning a smirk from Lucy.
David looked confused, but Gloria's eyes widened. She'd dealt with Edgerunners before; she knew the name.
Kael and Lucy watched the medical van pull away before heading to the Ragnar. Falco was already idling, ready for the getaway.
Meanwhile, David reached his apartment block, only to find a red holographic projection blocking the door. [ACCESS DENIED: UNPAID RENT].
The car accident had stripped them of everything. In Night City, one bad day was all it took to become a ghost.
Jackie watched the boy's shoulders slump. Without a word, he authorized a transfer to the building's management. [3,000 Eddies Paid].
"Consider it a loan, kid. Pay it back when you're a legend," Jackie said, pushing David toward the door. "Now go on. Take care of your mom."
David looked at Jackie with profound gratitude. "I'll remember. Thank you."
Jackie watched them enter before turning away. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time their paths would cross with the boy in the Arasaka jacket.
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