"Shit, why the hell is there no staircase in a place like this?"
Seeing the feed on the PDA, Roqi couldn't help but curse.
After the two Voodoo Boys passed through, the drone lingered for a few minutes, confirming there was no further movement, before resuming flight.
However, following the corridor to its end, the only way forward was a pair of tightly shut elevator doors.
No stairway. No emergency exit.
Was this really built to luxury hotel specs?
"Emergency exits wouldn't be in a place like this," said T-Bug, maneuvering the drone to scan the surroundings. "This is a back door. A hidden one—meant for sneaking out."
"Sneaking out?" Roqi asked, confused.
"Put simply—used to sneak out during affairs."
T-Bug rolled her eyes and didn't sugarcoat it.
"Could also be for dodging cops. Like when guests take a little party powder."
A new, unfamiliar voice suddenly joined the channel.
"Focus. Keep your eyes open. The Voodoo Boys and NetWatch aren't to be underestimated."
T-Bug immediately shut them down. "Please. You think the NCPD has the balls to storm a hotel like this?"
Under Pacifica's original development plan, only the rich and powerful would one day have the privilege to stay in such places.
Forget bending the law—these people could probably kill someone and walk away scot-free.
The NCPD? Far from justice-bringers.
T-Bug spoke with the kind of authority that comes from skill—especially among fellow netrunners. The ones Rogue had sent weren't amateurs, but T-Bug clearly outclassed them, which made her the de facto mission lead.
They were stationed inside the same beachfront villas Roqi had seen when he first arrived in Pacifica—right by the floating docks, less than 50 meters from Pangolin's hideout.
Portable server racks, full rigging, transmitters and receivers, wired fiber lines, wireless repeaters—the works.
Every time an op went big, T-Bug made sure the whole setup was in place.
As she put it: with this gear, they weren't just flying blind. They were air superiority fighters, backed by a carrier strike group.
The metaphor meant one thing—against enemy netrunners, they had absolute cyber dominance.
Still, due to the limitations of mobile rigs, T-Bug couldn't launch massive data floods. It wasn't about quantity—it was about precision.
No top-tier netrunner walks in with just a brain and an interface jack. That's telepathy—not science.
"Hey, just wondering—do you get annoyed that I always come to you for these jobs?" Roqi asked as they waited for the elevator.
"You paying me? Then it's business. Even netrunners gotta eat," T-Bug replied practically.
"No, I mean… you're insanely skilled. Aren't these little jobs beneath you?"
"Do I look like someone who scores once every three years and lives off it forever?" she shot back. "Rogue pays above market rates."
"Best fixer in Night City, generous pay—why would I say no?"
Roqi had no comeback. Fair point.
"I figured you were the thrill-seeking type," he said, scratching his head. "Like, crashing head-on into a corp ICE, stealing data from Militech or Arasaka."
"I'm human, not divine," T-Bug sighed. "Those corps have more hired netrunners than pedestrians on the street. I'd get shredded."
"I avoided small gigs because they were annoying," she explained. "New clients, unproven fixers—takes time and risk to vet them. Not worth a few eddies."
"So… you trust Rogue?" Roqi asked, surprised.
And it made sense. T-Bug didn't trust much—whether it was corpo bullshit, gang sweet-talk, or endless flings.
She just wanted to be a netrunner. Only in the Net could she see a sky untouched by corps.
Her dream was simple: make enough money, escape Night City, get a seaside mansion, maybe a cat.
Craving eddies was normal. Escaping Night City? That was a pipe dream.
"Let me put it this way," T-Bug said, pausing to phrase it right. "If Rogue's the one offering, I'll say yes."
No need for background checks. No doubts about new fixers. And if things went south—Rogue had your back.
The jobs paid less, but were simpler. T-Bug even squeezed in a few between major ops. Side hustle.
Roqi nodded. Made sense.
The back entrance was so obscure, it took ten full minutes for the elevator to respond.
Eventually, it descended to basement level B1 and opened with a mechanical clunk.
The light inside the elevator illuminated the corridor like a torch.
A Voodoo Boy stepped out, walking straight toward the back door, never glancing back.
Just as he moved away, a mini-drone silently dropped from above, clinging to the upper corner, and floated into the elevator unseen.
"You're the first person I've seen fly a drone like it's running stealth ops," Roqi commented.
"Appreciate it," T-Bug replied with a smirk.
But things don't always go smoothly.
Suddenly, Roqi's PDA and T-Bug's systems both lost all contact with the drone.
No feedback. No visuals. No sound.
It was as if it had never existed.
"They spotted us. Voodoo Boys cut the connection," T-Bug said, annoyed.
She'd been proud of how deep they'd infiltrated. Then boom—blindsided by a Voodoo Boy trick.
"Shit… they must know someone's tailing them," Roqi said, concerned.
"No big deal. I saw this coming," T-Bug waved it off. "Too bad we didn't get a look inside."
"I re-coded the drone's digital ID. Whether they strip it down or sniff its token, they'll think it belongs to NetWatch," she said with confidence. "And don't forget—it's rigged with data-wipe. Whatever they salvage will point straight at NetWatch."
"Damn! Why didn't I think of that?" Roqi slapped the floor in awe.
"That's called misdirection. Stirring the pot," T-Bug grinned. "I wanna see NetWatch and the Voodoo Boys tear each other apart. Just don't blow your cover—I want front-row seats."
"Fine, fine. Enjoy the show," Roqi muttered. "But now the drone's toast, and we still don't know what's inside the Batty Hotel."
"Then release Blockhead. What else?" T-Bug said matter-of-factly.
Blockhead—a recon bot made by Militech. Terrible in a fight, deadly in cyberspace.
They got one from Maelstrom—a test unit. If it hadn't been for the mole who leaked the convoy info, Maelstrom never would've pulled off that ambush.
Roqi had been there. He knew how brutal Militech's security was. No way Maelstrom did that solo.
There's a big difference between junk test models and near-finished ones. Blockhead was the latter.
The one in Roqi's bag was an early version—no optical camo, not very agile, kind of ugly and boxy.
More "Squarehead" than "Flathead."
Still, not exactly mass-market. Technically military-regulated. But Rogue had a few lying around, so clearly it wasn't top-shelf anymore.
The better Flathead? T-Bug used it to hijack Saburo Arasaka's Rayfield Caliburn, acting as both controller and signal repeater—until it and the AV blew sky-high at Arasaka Plaza.
But this wasn't the hyper-secure Konpeki Plaza. Just a scout run on the Voodoo Boys' half-abandoned hideout.
Blockhead was enough.
The Batty Hotel had been built to maximize sunlight and open design.
Roqi placed Blockhead against a wall. Connected to T-Bug's rig, it began its spider-like climb with mechanical clicks.
Target: the top floor.
Unless the Voodoo Boys' boss lived up top like some kingpin cliché, the abandoned hotel had plenty of unused space.
"Top floors are empty," T-Bug said, scanning each level.
"Nothing worth checking. Focus on the lower levels." She had Blockhead slip in through a loose window.
Once inside, Blockhead was in its element. Climbing glass wasn't its strength, but interior recon? Perfect.
The results shocked them.
The Voodoo Boys were weirdly low-profile—too low. They were holed up on the third floor.
The upper levels were fully abandoned—like the day the developers bailed on the project. Dusty and untouched.
"Maybe they're just too lazy for stairs or elevators," T-Bug joked.
Strangely enough, Roqi found that plausible.
Blockhead slinked along outer walls when people were in the hallways.
When interiors were too tight, it crawled like a spider, dodging lines of sight.
"Not a lot of people... maybe too few," T-Bug muttered, watching the feed.
The Voodoo Boys weren't some sprawling gang. They didn't hold turf or play politics like Maelstrom or the Valentinos.
They were netrunners. But even counting the goons at the entrance, there were maybe ten people.
Not just quiet—dead quiet.
"Pulling out," T-Bug suddenly said, halting Blockhead and activating its return protocol. It headed for the roof.
"What's up?" Roqi asked.
The camera had just turned a corner. At the end of the hallway, past a few doors, a hulking figure sat at a desk, typing.
It happened fast—only a quick glance.
"One of their heavies. Nearly caught us," T-Bug said. "They'll raise their alert level now. And one more thing—that's bothering me. Where are the rest of them?"
"No clue. First time I've been here," Roqi said.
"Rogue's intel said the Voodoo Boys have over a hundred official members," T-Bug muttered. "But what I saw here? Just some nobodies with guns."
Roqi frowned. "A wily rabbit has three burrows?"
"You might be right," T-Bug said, thinking hard.
So... where was the Voodoo Boys' real base?
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💘 MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW?
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💘 LOVE IS COMPLICATED.
Especially when your girlfriend could probably tear a squad of heavily armed mercs apart.
Welcome to Night City romance.
My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew? has 100+ chapters ahead waiting for you.
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💀❤️ ROMANCE, CHROME... AND QUESTIONABLE LIFE EXPECTANCY
💘 Romance
🤖 Cyberware
🧠 Cyberpsychosis
🔫 Night City action
😂 Chaos & dark humor
🌃 Dangerous relationships
🔥 Very bad situations getting much worse
People say relationships require patience.
Communication.
Trust.
Nobody mentioned surviving cyberpsychos.
🔥 100+ CHAPTERS AHEAD.
👉 Keep reading if you're brave enough.
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🌐 SrMagnusCorp: https://srmagnuscorp.com/
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⚠️ Power Stones help decide release priority!
💘 Love hurts. In Night City, sometimes literally.