Chapter 21: First Meeting
As a native of Night City, David Martinez had seen more chaos than most. Still, getting jumped by a tatted-up cyberpsycho chick in broad daylight? Yeah… that was new.
His instincts kicked in—run first, figure it out later.
Too bad he only managed two steps before a fist slammed into his jaw.
"Ugh—!"
Saliva flew from his mouth like a burst of soda. Through the blinding sun, he caught a blurry glimpse of Dorothy's wicked grin.
One punch.
That's all it took to knock Night City's future legend flat on his ass.
But Dorothy wasn't done.
A vicious kick slammed into his ribs, folding David over like a crumpled soda can.
Why the beatdown?
Because Kay had said, "Beat him up."
Not "scare him." Not "grab him."
"Beat him up."
Dorothy wasn't the type to read between the lines. She took the order literally—and executed it perfectly.
David lay on the pavement, gasping, blood trailing from his mouth, eyes barely open.
"Fucking… Tanaka… If you're gonna have me killed, just do it, you corporate bastard. Why this shit first?"
Dorothy blinked. "Tanaka?"
She didn't know who the hell that was. Didn't matter. Job's done.
She hoisted the limp David over her shoulder, glanced at the bystanders at the Wild Coyote Bar, and barked, "Quit gawking and get back to work!"
---
David's body felt like it was floating. Or falling. Or maybe both.
Visions of his mother, Gloria, flickered behind his eyes. The guilt ate at him.
He hadn't done enough. He hadn't protected her. And now? He was probably about to be chopped up and sold for parts by some Scavengers.
Bang!
Dorothy dropped him into a surgical chair in a darkened ripperdoc clinic—metal walls, humming machines, low neon light.
Standing nearby was a tall man—black hair, dark eyes, sharply dressed. Handsome. Calm. Cold.
David squinted. "A Scavenger…? Of course, the hot psycho brought me to a hot psycho."
This day's just full of blessings.
Kay looked down at the bruised kid, expression unreadable. Honestly, he'd only meant for Dorothy to knock David out and drag him here—not nearly kill him.
But… well, Kay had said "beat him up."
He wasn't going to admit it was a slip of the tongue now.
He waved Dorothy off and waited until the room was quiet.
Then he spoke, calm and clear:
"David Martinez, right? First time meeting. I'm Kay."
David spat blood. "So what? You're just another Scav, right? You gonna kill me or what?"
Kay raised an eyebrow. "Scav? No. Think… slightly more structured. Ever heard of the Cult of Destiny?"
David blinked. "The what?"
Kay smiled faintly. "We're a morally gray—okay, maybe evil—organization that lures in promising kids and convinces them to do questionable things in the name of fate."
David stared.
"…This is how you recruit people?"
"Yep. Problem?"
"…I'm gonna kill myself."
Kay ignored the sarcasm and placed a small black case beside the chair.
"I saw your Arasaka Academy uniform. I've got a job for you. If you pull it off, I'll pay you 100,000 euros."
David glared. "Bullshit. I don't believe you."
Kay opened the case. Inside: a compact, high-yield explosive.
"I want you to sneak this into Arasaka Academy and set it off. Spread our doctrine. Help the Cult grow."
"We believe destruction brings rebirth."
David's eyes went wide.
Kay leaned closer. "By the way—I know your mom works at the municipal clinic. Gloria Martinez, right?"
David's rage exploded.
"YOU BASTARDS! Don't you dare threaten my mother!"
He lunged for the detonator.
Kay calmly caught his hand mid-swing.
"Easy, tiger."
The fury in David's eyes didn't fade. He was shaking. Ready to die if it meant protecting his mom.
Kay smirked. Perfect.
This wasn't some spoiled corpo brat. This was someone who'd fight for what mattered.
He closed the case and locked it.
"No pressure," Kay said. "We don't force people. You don't want the job? Walk out."
He tossed a credit chip onto the table.
"Five thousand euros. For medical expenses. Good luck, kid."
---
David stumbled out of the Wild Coyote Bar, dazed and bruised, holding a chip worth five grand, and absolutely no idea what the hell had just happened.
People on the street stared at him like he was a side-show freak. His uniform was ripped, his lip was bleeding, and his brain still hadn't caught up.
What. Just. Happened?
---
At the same time, DeShawn returned, parking outside.
He glanced at the wreck that was David but didn't ask questions.
Inside, he met with Kay and picked up a cooler containing 100 doses of Destiny Potion. He already had buyers lined up and plans in motion.
Kay didn't pause. He was already deep into cyberware research, designing custom neural accelerators and behavioral override chips for Destiny Cult members.
His time wasn't just valuable—it was weaponized.
---
Meanwhile, across town, inside a dark stronghold of the Sixth Street Gang…
Will Hanson—notorious for his brutality and short fuse—was in a foul mood.
One of his underlings trembled as he reported, "Boss, that bastard Will Cannon's throwing his weight around again. Acting like Sixth Street's his personal army. We oughta—"
Will kicked him in the ribs before he could finish.
Another gang member tried to change the subject. "That chick we nabbed yesterday still won't talk. Can't even get her to make a call to her guy. What the hell, our chrome not good enough?"
Will grabbed the man by the collar. "Are your cyberdicks malfunctioning? Want me to test them myself?"
Just then—wailing.
Satoni and the other scouts he'd sent to spy on the Wild Coyote stumbled in, covering their faces, barely able to walk.
Will turned, eyes narrowing like a blade drawing in the dark.
This was going to get messy.