CHAPTER 155: CHAPTER 156: ALL HARD, FIST HARD!

"Move it! And stop looking around like a tourist!"

The scavenger escorting Pyrrha barked impatiently. The younger boy’s voice was raspy and irritated, clearly annoyed by Pyrrha’s wandering eyes.

"Heh, yeah, yeah... just curious, that’s all. Gotta look around a bit, right?" Pyrrha replied casually with a sheepish grin.

Despite the warning, he didn’t seem rattled. Instead, he continued to follow the scavenger through the dark, narrow corridors of the base—his pace calm, relaxed, as if he were strolling into a bar instead of one of Night City’s most dangerous scavenger hideouts.

But unbeknownst to Pyrrha, every move he made was being tracked.

Overhead and along the dimly-lit corridors, multiple surveillance cameras followed his figure. The grainy footage fed directly into the control room deep within the base, where a man sat in front of the monitors, calmly puffing on a cigarette.

That man was Dorisk, the boss of the Taiping Continent Scavengers.

Through the faint blue glow of the screens, Dorisk squinted at the footage. His cigarette sizzled quietly as he watched the guest being escorted into the heart of their base.

As a scavenger boss, Dorisk knew one rule better than any:

"Trust no one."

Especially not in Night City.

Their "profession" was already dancing on the edge of every moral line—kidnapping, extortion, organ harvesting, cyber-amputation—you name it, they did it.

With such a résumé of crimes, it wasn’t just the NCPD that hated them. Rival gangs, corpo agents, and even clients turned enemies were common.

Which was why Dorisk and his crew were paranoid by necessity.

Every unknown visitor was treated like a potential death trap. No matter how harmless someone looked, they assumed the worst.

Dorisk narrowed his eyes at the screen again.

"Hmph. Big gold chain, flashy watch, and that cocky strut... doesn’t look like someone sent by a megacorp or a serious gang."

He leaned back, smoke curling from his lips.

"If that brat Kodo can intimidate him with just a few words, then he’s probably not a killer. Just another wannabe player in Night City," he muttered, flicking ash off his coat.

Still, a little caution never hurt.

He stood up slowly, cracking his back. "Let’s go. Hope he turns out to be a fat sheep. Otherwise, I’m wasting my damn time."

Three of his top lieutenants silently followed as he left the control room.

Meanwhile, in the central meeting area of the base, Pyrrha sat waiting under dim orange lighting.

He had been led there by Kodo, the scavenger boy who’d been acting like a low-tier bodyguard since the entrance.

Everything around Pyrrha smelled of rust, oil, and blood. It wasn’t a place where business was "discussed"—it was a place where people disappeared.

And still, Pyrrha looked bored.

Dorisk finally arrived, his wool coat brushing against the filthy floor as he walked in with a lazy swagger. He didn’t even glance at Pyrrha at first. Instead, he dropped into a chair across the table, leaned back, and propped both feet up onto the table.

He held out a hand lazily, and Kodo immediately placed a fat cigar in his palm and lit it.

Power posturing 101.

But Pyrrha wasn’t intimidated.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "These guys love to put on a show..."

Without hesitation, Pyrrha mimicked Dorisk’s posture, slouching back in his chair, lifting his own boots onto the table with a thump, and pulling his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose.

Then, with a perfectly timed smirk, he said:

"Me? I’m from Team David, Night City. You heard of it?"

The room froze for a moment.

Dorisk blinked, his cigar halfway to his lips.

"Team... David?" he repeated, confused.

Kodo looked just as dumbfounded. "Boss... I don’t think that’s a real gang."

Dorisk narrowed his eyes, trying to place the name. "Night City’s got a hundred crews, but I don’t remember any David leading a big team."

"Then maybe you need to update your information," Pyrrha replied smoothly. "We just cleaned out two boosters and a back-alley cyberdoc this week. We’re expanding. Figured it’s time to collaborate with the pros, y’know?"

He waved a hand lazily around the room.

Dorisk chuckled—half out of amusement, half out of disbelief.

"You? A big player? In that shiny jacket? Come on, kid, don’t blow smoke here."

"Oh, I don’t smoke," Pyrrha replied. "But I do blow things up."

The way he said it made Dorisk’s men glance at each other.

Even Dorisk had to admit, this guy had balls.

"Alright, hotshot," he said, blowing out a thick plume of smoke. "What kind of business are you thinking?"

Pyrrha leaned forward, letting his boots drop off the table with a thud.

"I need parts. Cyberware, high-grade. Military stock if you’ve got it. I’m building up my team, and I want to equip them with the best."

Dorisk raised an eyebrow. "We’re not exactly a charity, kid. Got eddies?"

"I’ve got eddies, and I’ve got protection." Pyrrha grinned. "Work with us, and you get a buffer against three other gangs that want your head on a plate."

Dorisk scoffed. "And why the hell would I believe you?"

Pyrrha stood slowly, reached into his coat, and pulled out a small black chip.

He placed it on the table and slid it over with a flick of his fingers.

Dorisk raised an eyebrow and plugged it into a reader.

The screen lit up, displaying a full dossier—maps, gang routes, hideouts, and names of rival scavenger enemies currently active in the district.

It was intel.

Real, valuable intel.

Dorisk’s eyes flicked to Pyrrha.

"Where’d you get this?"

Pyrrha just smiled. "Night City talks. I listen."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Dorisk laughed. "You know what? I like you, kid. You’ve got style."

He took a long drag from his cigar and gestured for his men to step back.

"Alright. You get one shipment. No more, no less. Consider it a test."

"Deal," Pyrrha said, extending his hand.

Dorisk took it with a firm grip, chuckling.

"But just so we’re clear," Dorisk added, his voice dropping low, "if you try to screw us, we’ll rip every implant out of your spine and sell them one by one."

Pyrrha didn’t flinch. "Noted. I’m allergic to betrayal too."

Dorisk grinned.

"All hard, fist hard. That’s how we survive in this city."

As the scavenger boss and Pyrrha parted ways, Kodo followed Pyrrha out, still eyeing him cautiously.

"You’re not like the other clowns who walk in here begging for scraps," Kodo muttered.

"That’s ’cause I’m not begging," Pyrrha replied. "I’m building."

Kodo paused. "Building what?"

Pyrrha looked up toward the neon-lit ceiling and grinned.

"A storm."

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