Chapter 220: Interrogation
“If he can’t be of any use, he’s going to regret it...” V sneered, closing in with obvious malice. “Our partner isn’t clueless either. We can’t let him know we’re after Mikoshi, but... if we throw him a little gift, he’ll definitely return the favor.”
“The best choice is to rely on ourselves.” Arthur shook his head, gripping his rifle as he strode up to the overturned AV.
The craft had rolled onto its side, its door now serving as a skylight.
Arthur and V climbed onto it, their boots striking the hull with a heavy metallic thud.
“Think we should cover our faces?” Arthur asked, eyeing the still-shut hatch. This wasn’t his first time cracking something open like a can.
“Please... everyone in Night City already knows your face. What’s next, a disguise?” V shot back, crouching down and tapping her knife against the AV’s hull.
“Hey, trash inside! Open up before we blow it. If something goes wrong, it won’t be pretty.” She shouted downward while already feeling around for the AV’s data port—given a little time, she could hack it open.
“Don’t kill us! Don’t blow it up! We surrender!” A man’s voice rang out. Arthur leveled his rifle at the hatch and stepped back cautiously.
The door creaked open, red warning lights still flashing inside. Three figures stood in the glow.
Two wore orange security uniforms—clearly corporate muscle. Between them stood a man in a black suit. One side of his glasses was shattered, smeared with blood.
He wasn’t too badly hurt, though—he still had enough breath to shout his surrender loud and clear.
None of them were stupid enough to try anything. Arthur reached in and dragged the suited man out like dead weight.
“Is this him?” He shoved the man into the sunlight, glancing at V.
“Anders Hellman... eyes, nose...” V studied him, then nodded firmly. “Yeah. That’s him! We need to move before the company closes in.”
She took hold of him herself. Carrying a man was no harder for V now than hauling a briefcase.
...
The trunk slammed shut. Their work here was done—and it had gone surprisingly smooth.
The Nomads hadn’t left. After a short talk with Panam, they came over again. The bald man leading them stepped forward, offering his hand to V first.
“Looks like you’re finished here. Name’s Mitch—just a nobody from the Badlands.” He shook her hand as he introduced himself.
“V...” His self-effacing tone threw her off. After a pause, she said, “Same here.”
“Haha.” Mitch chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced back at Panam and added, “Anyway... thanks for looking out for her. Do me a favor and keep an eye on her down the line. She’s hot-headed—we all know it. And if you ever need a hand, you know where to find us.”
After a bit of small talk, the groups split up. Panam left with Mitch’s crew. They’d traded contact info, but whether they’d cross paths again was anyone’s guess.
Even in just a few days together, V could tell Panam didn’t belong in Night City. Maybe she was just a rebellious girl, clashing with her family for now... nothing more.
As for Mitch not noticing? That was probably what they meant by being too close to see straight.
“First time meeting that crew too?” Arthur asked from the passenger seat. He didn’t look back, but V knew it was meant for her.
“Of course. I don’t waste time making friends with Nomads in the Badlands,” V replied flatly. “They’re great at fixing cars, modding guns, or tinkering with Cyberware... but brains? Not so much.”
“This was just a trade.” Jackie spoke up, glancing at the AV. “Panam got screwed—lost her ride, lost her cargo, everything. We helped her take it back. In return, she helped us get the AV. Come to think of it... when we were still looking for it, she mentioned going home to gather reinforcements. But we had enough people. If we’d gone with her, we might’ve met that Nomad crew earlier.”
“Forget it. None of that matters.” Arthur cut him off, getting to the point. “Can we get past Night City’s border checkpoint with someone in the trunk?”
“No need to stir up trouble. We’ll hole up in the Badlands.” From the backseat, V answered bluntly. “Some towns have inns. We’ll just pick a spot, ask our questions, and move on.”
The Badlands was desolate, but not empty. The war over a decade ago had devastated most of it, yet a few towns had survived.
The inn they found sat at the edge of one such town. The locals clearly weren’t fond of outsiders. It was a squat, two-story building, with iron stairs and catwalks bolted to the outside so guests didn’t have to climb up by hand.
They only rented one room—they weren’t staying long.
V dragged the suited man along. None of the other guests even batted an eye, like it was nothing unusual.
Inside, the room was in better shape than the building’s exterior suggested.
Anders had been tied up tight. No one knew why he’d defected, but he sure hadn’t expected to end up in such a pitiful state.
“What the hell are you people?!” Thrown onto the bed, the man shouted, his voice shaking with fear.
“Relax, pal. We just want to talk.” V dragged a chair over and sat down, fixing him with a hard stare. “You’re the chief designer of the Relic?”
“Yes... that’s me...” Anders struggled to sit up, but Arthur grabbed him by the hair and yanked him upright. “I’ll talk, I’ll cooperate.”
“Good...” V ran a hand through her hair. In her vision, Johnny Silverhand appeared again. He didn’t speak—just watched silently, looking like he was enjoying the show.
“Here’s the deal,” V said bluntly, eyes locked on Anders. “That piece-of-shit chip you designed is chewing through my brain. If you can help, it’ll be good for everyone. But if you even think about playing games... No. You don’t want to know what happens next.”
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