Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077

Hello! Sorry for the late update today. I finally managed to but enough advanced chapters on my P@tron!!!

You can read 50 advanced chapters as well as 2 daily chapters on!

Patreon(.)com/IDKjust 

Yes this also means I will be going back to 2 chapters a day tomorrow!

Happy reading ;) 

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Chapter 52 

The ceiling took the brunt of the blast.

A gaping hole appeared overhead, broken fluorescent lights dangling from shattered fixtures. Dust trickled down through the jagged gap in the metal paneling.

"What happened?"

Emeric, who had heard the commotion from outside, rushed in.

"Maine? Maine!"

"I'm fine. Rebecca, the rest of you should go." Maine pulled out a dose of suppressant and jammed it into his arm. Only then did the cannon barrel retract into his cybernetic limb. "Leo, please take Rebecca and leave."

"Are you sure you can handle this on your own?"

Leo hadn't known Maine for long—they had only met twice, counting this time—but Maine struck him as a trustworthy, reliable team leader. It just felt wrong to leave him behind like this.

"Don't worry," Maine said, clutching the right arm that had nearly gone berserk. "I'll be all right."

Seeing that he had regained control, Leo nodded and didn't argue further. He took Rebecca's small hand and ran in the opposite direction from Emeric.

"Do you think Maine will be all right?" Rebecca asked.

"He didn't hurt anyone—just destroyed some property. It'll probably just cost some eddies…" Realizing that wasn't entirely precise, Leo added, "At worst, the Afterlife might ban him for good."

"That's rough." Rebecca grimaced.

Being barred from the Afterlife—Night City's mercenary sanctuary—was like an athlete receiving a permanent ban from competition. But Leo was more concerned about another issue.

"How often does Maine's condition crop up? When did it start?"

Rebecca didn't hold back. "Ever since he got those cybernetic limbs. Sometimes he can't activate the projectile system when he needs it, or it'll activate at the worst possible moment, like just now."

"And nobody else on your team has a problem with that?"

"Dorio's told him more than once to replace those arms, but Maine…" She trailed off, and Leo already understood. Maine was stubborn—sticking to his convictions or, less charitably, bullheaded.

His reasoning was probably the same as most mercs in Night City. Anything that boosted combat power was good. If you could get your hands on a superior implant, you installed it—even if it came off a corpse, even if it was incompatible with your body, even if it caused irreversible damage. No time or bandwidth to think it through. Slap it on and hope you didn't die. And if you didn't die, you used it until you did.

Leo wasn't a ripperdoc and didn't know implants inside and out, but if the owner couldn't fully control a piece of cyberware, that hardware clearly wasn't right for them. Even if Maine managed to wrest back control with a suppressant for now, suppressants were a slippery slope. Sure, one dose worked today, but over time, the dosage would increase until one day even that wouldn't help. By then, it would be too late.

While Leo mulled this over, V called.

"Leo, where are you? Aren't you coming?"

"Sorry, on my way."

When Rebecca nearly started a brawl with Emeric outside, Leo had told V and Lucy to go find Regina first. Then Maine's mishap had popped up. He had lost track of time.

"Rebecca, something's come up and I need to go. I'll be in touch about that Kenshin, all right?"

Rebecca nodded. She wore the pitiful look of a kitten about to be abandoned, making Leo sigh.

"Fine. As soon as I'm free, I'll call you first."

Hearing that, Rebecca's face lit up, and she waved goodbye. "Don't forget!"

…

Inside Booth Four, Regina looked exasperated from waiting so long. When Leo finally showed up, she couldn't help voicing a bit of frustration. Everyone else had arrived already. Leo took a seat between V and Lucy and got straight to business.

"What exactly happened?"

Regina, who was just as direct, gave a short nod. "A few days ago, I handed the raw black braindance you found over to Brice. He hired a braindance editor he knew to help him. After a few days, Brice got the lead he wanted on the killer."

"Let me guess," Leo said. "The murderer turned out to be some big shot he couldn't take down alone, so now he needs us."

Regina shook her head. "No, it's not quite what you think, Leo. Have any of you ever heard of a man named Ichijo Daisho?"

Leo, V, Jackie, and Lucy all exchanged confused looks. It didn't ring a bell.

"Never heard of him. What's his deal?"

"Ichijo Daisho holds a prominent position at City Hall and has connections with many of its officials. He's the one who brutally murdered Brice's son and turned him into a black braindance. Somehow, he found out that Brice had uncovered evidence from the raw footage. So Daisho approached Brice and tried to negotiate under the table."

Leo frowned. "Brice refused?"

"Exactly. No matter how much Daisho offered, Brice insisted on exposing him to the media. He wanted to see that man behind bars."

V shook his head. "I get how a father who lost his son must feel, but telling Daisho to his face was reckless."

Jackie nodded in agreement. "At the very least, he could've pretended to accept the deal, kept the guy off his guard, then come to us to finish the job."

Lucy lowered her gaze. "He believes in God. But in this dirty, sinful city, not even God's light can reach every corner. The Almighty can't protect His follower."

Regina took out a cigarette and lighter, then hesitated and put them away again. "If Brice had your cunning, maybe he wouldn't be in this position."

"Are you saying he got death threats?" Leo asked.

"Worse. He got tossed into the asylum in Santo Domingo."

Everyone sucked in a breath. They all knew what that meant. Officially known as the Night City Psychological Health Center—commonly called Redwood Psychiatric Hospital—it was a facility for cyberpsychosis patients. Yet it was rumored to do far more than standard therapy or drug treatments. It also locked away people who dug too deep—like certain NCPD officers or, in this case, someone unwilling to compromise, like Brice.

Stories circulated that staff members there abused patients for fun. Some said these rumors were nothing but hearsay, but Regina, with her wealth of inside info, knew better.

Some people supported Redwood's methods, believing that eliminating visitation rights was key to successful treatment. Others strongly opposed it, suspecting that these so-called psychiatrists wanted no outside eyes on their shady activities.

Regina knew far more than idle speculation. On paper, Redwood Psychiatric Hospital treated patients with cyberpsychosis. In reality, they didn't just admit people suffering mental illness; they also locked up police officers who got too close to the truth and refused to drop their investigations. And, of course, they caged people like Brice, who wouldn't bow to corporate or political demands.

On top of that, plenty of disturbing incidents—dismissed by the public as rumors—were all too real. For instance, staff frequently abused patients for fun.