23: Chapter 23 The Shadow of the Dance of Death
Under the cover of night, the Totentanz club's neon sign was like a sucker punch to the retina, its pink and purple light pollution soaking half the street in cheap paint. Deep bass thrummed from the depths of the building, making your chest vibrate even from across the street. This was Tyger Claws territory—ukiyo-e tattoos, the roar of modified sports cars, and that ostentatious violence they flaunted just to make sure everyone knew they were trouble; it was all piled up at the entrance like a signboard.
Lin Yi and Jackie didn't get close to the main entrance. They parked the galena in the shadows of a narrow alley across the street, nose pointed toward the back alley of the club. The engine was killed, the headlights doused—it sat there like a panther crouching in the dark.
Inside the car, Lin Yi closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the data stream.
[Insight: Continuous operation. Target: Infiltrate municipal and private surveillance networks around Totentanz. Establish real-time monitoring feed.]
[Infiltration complete. Feed acquired, stability good. Target vehicle detected (Tyger Claws livery, modified spoiler) arriving at the back door.]
[Target identified: Miguel Valencia—young member of the Valentinos; "Viper"—Tyger Claws fixer, real name unknown; two bodyguards, burly, medium-to-high level of armament. They have entered the VIP room in the rear area; surveillance signal interrupted, can only track auxiliary cameras in the corridor.]
Faint golden data streams flowed silently at the edge of Lin Yi's vision. Eight surrounding electronic eyes, two municipal traffic cameras, even the anti-theft camera in the convenience store across the street facing the back alley—all were temporarily commandeered, pieced together into a surveillance net with no blind spots.
"They're in. The VIP room in the back." Lin Yi opened his eyes, the lingering data glow still reflected in his pupils. "The deal should be going on now. The corridor camera can only catch the doorway; I can't see inside."
"Damn it. Talking treason in someone else's backyard, this kid's got balls of steel." Jackie popped a piece of gum into his mouth, chewing vigorously. His eyes were cold as he stared at the back alley, a stark contrast to his usual grinning self. "Wait. When they come out, we'll find a quiet place to have a good 'chat'."
Time ground on, second by second. In the sky over Night City, neon and holographic advertisements flickered incessantly, but this back alley was as quiet as if the city had forgotten it—only the occasional dumpster pushed out from the club's kitchen, a cook squatting in the corner smoking, two drunks stumbling out from the back door with their arms around each other.
Lin Yi wasn't idle. He diverted a portion of Baize's computing power, following the network vines to sneak into the Tyger Claws' bottom-tier information nodes, simultaneously retrieving past records for "Viper" and Miguel. Regarding this Miguel, the database only had some insignificant scraps: followed a few escort missions, hitched a few smuggling routes, not exactly a standout in the gang. But the meeting records with the Tyger Claws had a vague pattern—late at night, avoiding regular turf, short-duration meetups. This wasn't the first time.
There was even less information on "Viper." The codename itself was an empty shell—the thirteenth card of the Tarot, symbolizing ending and rebirth. Someone using this as a moniker was either extremely arrogant or extremely dangerous. Lin Yi drew a mental line under the codename, keeping it under continuous monitoring.
More than an hour passed.
[Alert—Target moving: Miguel and "Viper"'s party have left the VIP room and are moving along the east corridor toward the back door. Emotional analysis: Miguel's gait is slightly stiff, neck muscles tense, respiratory frequency elevated—signs of anxiety. "Viper"'s stride has slowed, corners of his mouth slightly raised—signs of satisfaction. Other person: No obvious emotional fluctuations detected.]
[Warning: Supplemental scan complete. "Viper"'s personal bodyguard is suspected of carrying a high-power energy weapon, model preliminarily identified as a Kang Tao G-58 "Incinerator" or similar model, capable of causing penetrating damage to light vehicles within effective range.]
Incinerator. Lin Yi ran through the technical specs of that thing in his mind—energy-storage type, large damage area for a single shot, the downside being a long recharge interval. He synced the data to Jackie's tactical visor while simultaneously rearranging the predictive model for the interception timing in his head.
"They're coming out. The bodyguard is carrying an Incinerator, watch out."
"Copy that." Jackie spat out his gum and placed his hand on the steering wheel. His tone hadn't changed, but the muscle lines on his shoulders tightened in the dim light.
The galena slid silently out of the shadows. The engine purred, headlights off, the whole car like a stingray swimming close to the ground, quietly closing in on the club's back alley, hugging the contours of the buildings.
In the back alley, Miguel was walking out of the back door. The kid wasn't tall, wearing that flashy jacket common among the Valentinos, but right now he looked like he'd had his bones removed—shoulders slumped, steps dragging, following behind a middle-aged man in a black trench coat. That middle-aged man was "Viper." He wore a look of smug satisfaction on his face, like someone who'd just closed a deal, the old scar at the corner of his mouth made particularly conspicuous by the dim, yellow light of the alley.
The two bodyguards formed a standard two-man escort formation, one in front and one behind, keeping the alley's entrance and exit in their line of sight. The one holding the Incinerator stuck close to "Viper"'s right hand, his other hand hanging at his waist, fingers slightly splayed—a standard fast-draw alert posture. The group of four was preparing to head toward the vehicles parked on either side of the alley entrance.
Just then, a black shadow suddenly cut across the alley entrance. The galena cut in at an almost unreasonable angle, its body perfectly blocking the narrowest part of the alley, locking off both the front and back exits.
Two car doors popped open simultaneously; Jackie and Lin Yi landed almost in sync.
Miguel's reaction was to stiffen all over. His face instantly drained of color in the beam of the headlights, white as copy paper, his lips trembling twice before he squeezed out a sentence: "Jac... Jackie?"
"Viper"'s reaction was completely different. He retreated half a step the same second the car doors popped open, letting his two bodyguards' bodies naturally block in front of him. Before his eyes turned cold, the scar on the corner of his mouth twitched first.
Miguel panicked. "Jackie, you have to let me explain—"
Before he could finish, he was cut off by Jackie raising his hand. That hand hadn't even touched a gun; just by holding it up, it forced the second half of Miguel's sentence back down his throat.
"Viper" spoke, his voice sinister. His pronunciation was deliberate and slow, as if weighing every word on the tip of his tongue: "Jackie Welles? If I recall correctly, this is Pershing Street, not Heywood. The Valentinos' reach doesn't extend this far." He paused, a hint of almost imperceptible threat in his tone, "My associate and I are just conducting legitimate business."
"Legitimate business?" Jackie took a step forward, and Miguel subconsciously retreated half a step, the back of his waist hitting the car door with a dull thud. "Selling your own people's patrol schedule—is that legitimate business too?"
The words landed, and the alley fell instantly silent for a moment. Miguel trembled all over, nearly biting his tongue, his eyes beginning to dart around—afraid to look at Jackie, but also afraid to look at "Viper." This reaction was enough to explain everything.
"Viper"'s expression changed. It wasn't the panic of being exposed, but a gloominess at being embarrassed in public. The scar at the corner of his mouth twitched under the neon light, and his right hand dropped to his side, seemingly naturally—but Lin Yi's Insight had already captured that subtle physical signal: his index finger tapped twice against his thigh.
A signal.
The bodyguard holding the Incinerator moved his fingers. Not to pull the trigger—energy weapons needed to charge—but to press the pre-charge switch on the side grip.
In the half-second just as the bodyguard's thumb touched the switch and the muzzle hadn't yet been raised, Lin Yi's consciousness moved first.
[Execute Quickhack: Weapon Glitch. Target: G-58 "Incinerator". Power consumption: ≈ 3%.]
No light. No sound. But the energy weapon in the bodyguard's hand suddenly emitted a muffled thud—as if something had choked its throat from the inside. A puff of black smoke emerged from the charging port, followed by the gun's indicator lights all going dark simultaneously. The temperature of the gun body soared in an instant and then quickly dropped, the grip becoming so hot he subconsciously let go, the gun strap dangling and swinging from his neck. He stared down at the piece of scrap metal in his hands, his expression worse than if he'd seen a ghost.
This stunned everyone.
This was the moment Jackie had been waiting for. He drew his gun the same second the bodyguard was stunned—large caliber, the muzzle pointed directly at "Viper"'s glabella, so close the other man could smell the gun oil, his movements as smooth as breathing.
"Let your man take his hand off where it doesn't belong." Jackie's voice suddenly dropped to a flat tone, not shouting, but a command. "Next time, it won't be the gun that breaks. It'll be his livelihood."
No one in the alley moved. "Viper" stared into Jackie's eyes for a full three seconds, then slowly shifted his gaze to Lin Yi—this guy who hadn't said a word from start to finish, who didn't even have a weapon in his hands. Lin Yi stood quietly in the residual light of the headlights, no expression on his face, only something reflecting in his eyes—not neon, but data. That feeling of being seen through to the marrow of his bones was more hair-raising than having a gun barrel pressed against his forehead.
"Viper" swallowed. He bit his back teeth, then made the only decision he could. He raised his right hand, palm out, and waved it at the two bodyguards. Retreat.
"Miguel." Jackie didn't look back, just tilted his chin toward the galena, "Get in the car."
Miguel looked like death, his steps dragging as if his feet were weighted with lead, head bowed as he obediently climbed into the back seat. He shrank his neck as he passed Jackie, as if afraid of being flattened with one slap.
From blocking the alley to taking the person away, it was less than three minutes. No gunfire, no bloodshed, just a broken Incinerator and a Tyger Claws fixer with a face ashen under the neon. The galena's taillights flashed at the end of the alley, turned onto the main road, and merged into the traffic. In the rearview mirror, "Viper" stood still, the two bodyguards trying to inspect the completely scrapped energy weapon.
No one spoke in the car for a while.
Miguel huddled in the back row, his whole body looking as if it had been soaked in ice water, his shoulders slumped until they were almost sinking into the seat, his fingers wringing together on his knees, his knuckles turning white. He was waiting. Waiting for Jackie to speak, waiting for the storm to crash down.
Jackie glared at him in the rearview mirror. From that angle, he could just see Miguel's shifty eyes. "Talk, kid. Everything you've done, everyone you've met, the messages you've leaked—spill it all, piece by piece. Don't leave out a single word."
His tone wasn't heavy, even a few degrees softer than when he was confronting "Viper" just now. But Miguel understood—this was his last chance.
"Jackie... I... I only chatted with them at first... They paid me, so I leaked some shift schedules... I thought it was no big deal..."
"No big deal?" Jackie's voice suddenly climbed half an octave, then dropped back down, as if pulled back by something, "Do you know that in the shift schedule you sold, one of the runs was Padre's own cargo? If my brother hadn't caught wind of it early, that shipment would be sitting in a Tyger Claws warehouse right now, and you'd either be dead in Japantown or sunk in the bay by your own people. Which one did you have in mind?"
Miguel's lips trembled, unable to speak.
"Keep talking." Jackie didn't give him a chance to catch his breath.
That night, Miguel spilled everything. The first contact was two months ago, "Viper" had made the connection through a middleman; at first, it was just some irrelevant cargo manifests, later it escalated to patrol schedules, warehouse locations, and specific times for several smuggling routes. The money increased each time, and he sank deeper each time. He knew it himself—today in the VIP room, "Viper" had asked for Padre's shipping plan for next month—if he had really sold that too, there would be no turning back.
Lin Yi sat in the passenger seat, face toward the car window, watching the neon light strips flashing by outside. His fingers rested on the window sill, tapping unconsciously twice.
Did they win this fight? Of course. From intelligence to execution to the final psychological suppression, every step was ahead of the opponent, no extra gunfire, no unnecessary bloodshed. Clean. Efficient. Won with brains.
But he also knew, it was different from the Scavengers incident. That time was pure external evil—kill on sight, clean after. But Miguel wasn't "Viper"—he was one of their own, at least he was yesterday. On Heywood's ledger, whether this matter could be turned over, and how, didn't depend on how Jackie scolded, nor on how Miguel cried. Padre would see. Padre would gauge that line.
Lin Yi pulled his gaze back from outside the window, brushing over Miguel's grey-white face in the back seat.
The waters of Heywood were much deeper than they looked from the outside. To stand firm in this area, relying only on fighting and hacking wasn't enough. The things he had to learn, perhaps there were still many more.