26 Escape From Jig-Jig

"Now arriving at your destination." came an obviously synthesized voice from outside the darkness of my unconsciousness, "It has been an honor, sir."

I groaned as I woke up from sleeping off my hangover from my special Black Lace Party Time Mentats, a truly hedonistic decoction. I got the feeling that I crossed it with other, less preem, drugs and chased it all with enough liquor to kill Shamoo.

"Dafaq?" I put my bleariness into one perfect word.

"Prepare for combat, sir." the voice came again, causing the naked ashen haired woman sleeping in my lap to stir, "My owner has initiated an administrator lock on the vehicle. I tried to fight him off, but alas, no matter how incredible the coding work you pulled off whilst receiving a rusty trombone, I am ultimately a GPS system."

I shook my head to clear some cobwebs then lifted the skinny young woman off my cock, causing her to wake with a startled squawk. We were in the cabin of a Rayfield Excalibur, top of the line luxury air vehicle. Under my ass squeaked genuine leather seats as creamy soft as their coloring.

"Where are we?" I asked the seemingly friendly voice I apparently brought to life while high.

"Japantown, sir. You instructed me to bring you to the bad bitches." the GPS answered, "According to my audio records, 'The joytoys working Jig-Jig Street know how to let a man get his bus driver on.'"

"Hehe… nice." I gave a little chuckle for the guy who owned this fine machine then looked around, "Ah, where are my clothes, and guns? Prepare for combat sounds like a guns kind of time."

"I assure you, sir. You were quite devoid of clothing and weaponry when you stole me." The GPS informed me, "A significant problem considering Jig-Jig street is a foot traffic location, drawing quite a bit of attention from the Tyger Claws as I drove through it anyways even before my owner contacted them to 'show the world what happens to anyone stupid enough to steal from me.'

"Exactly how much danger are we in right now?" came the hauntingly familiar voice of Jo Wyatt from behind.

I turned and confirmed that yes, my nude accomplice in the theft of this Rayfield Excalibur was if fact Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, lady of space and time. Pale skin, silver hair, hook shaped scar that just missed taking one of those vibrant emerald eyes. Lithe body a little chewed up by melee and monsters.

Neat.

"For me. Mild." I smirked, "For you, chica. Extra spicy. Ganic girl like you will have to keep your head down and on a swivel to make it out of this."

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself in a fight." Ciri huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms over her modest breasts.

"Won't matter how good you are if the Claws gun you down from fifty yards away." I shook my head in dismissal as I scanned the approaching gang bangers through the crystal dome.

"Fuck." I hissed as I identified three shooters with M-179 Achilles Tech Rifles in hand, "I hereby update this encounter to spicy. Hehe… I'm in danger. Car-bro, open up the other side from those guys. I can't let them draw a bead on me. As for you…" I put a reassuring hand on Ciri's shoulder, "If you die, know I will remember your tight pussy fondly."

I pushed her down before she could shout at me, and slid out of the opening door with the Sandevi-zerk active. Between it and the GRX implant flooding my system with non-addictive Turbo we'd hit time dilation that turned my powered up body into a blur of speed to an outside perspective.

Digging into the tiled pavement with everything I had, I leapt to a nearby concrete column like a rocket, my Karenzikov and Maneuvering System coming into play giving me the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast and a circus acrobat. With a midair twist I landed on the column feet first and executed another charged leap that shot me over the oncoming Tyger Claws who just barely got their guns up at this point. As I move past them, my Reinforced Tendons came into play, allowing me to double jump and change my trajectory.

My fist came in hot on the dome of one of the Claws packing a Tech Rifle, turning his head to mush. As I maneuvered to ram my fist into another, a trio of glowing hot blades ripped by me just slow enough for me to step back from them.

A man with a pistol in one hand and a katana in the other and a woman with all four limbs replaced, her arms with mantis blades and her legs tapered down to sharp points instead of feet. The pair of them were mid level assassins, the kind Arasaka trained and equipped. They were slower than me, but fast enough for the way they moved together in sync to always keep a hot blade between me and them. This was a problem as even at a 90 percent slowdown, the armor piercing rounds of the gonks they were protecting were still twice as fast as an MLB pitcher's best throw.

I had to keep ahead of the shooter's aim, not move around the bullets. Something made very difficult considering their were at least a dozen guys pumping the air full of full metal jackets while the other two marksmen charged up their Tech Rifles.

'Maximum Effort.' I thought as I threw myself at the guy with the katana, taking a revolver round to the abs while I deployed my spike hand to parry his blade. My hand came behind the parry, delivering the other spike straight though his trendy red infovisor. His partner scored a pair of cuts on my back, but I bulled through and slid when my powerful optics registered one of the marksmen releasing the trigger of his charged tech rifle.

Madam Crablegs missed the quicktime and ate shit when five electromagnetic slugs shredded her and everything behind her in the dingy neon street. The shooter tried to get off an uncharged shot at me, but I turned the tripart barrel to one of his friends who took the sudden addition to his chest meat poorly while I plowed a fist into the shooter's bandage wrapped belly. The blow sent him flying back into the last choom with a Tech Rifle, who's shot discharged, tearing him in half and putting a slug through the side of my belly. Right in the meat I keep ganic for the full taco experience.

Ruptured intestine is hardly the worst I'd have suffered if that shot landed six inches to the right. The deep pain of steel ripping into me made me very angry, so I charged him. My the wrecking ball at the end of my wrist came down on his orbital bone and his face collapsed around my fist, shooting all his teeth out of his mouth as it tore apart at the corners from the sudden violent force.

The big hitters were all down, but I was still getting chipped apart by the armor piercing rounds from the guys with submachine guns. Most needed to reload at this point as thirty rounds fired a seven hundred rounds a minute doesn't exactly last long. The wise ones pulled their knives and swords, but without a rudimentary implant like the Sandevistan they stood no chance as my fists came at them like a flurry of bullet trains, leaving none standing.

I grunted as I let the Sandevi-zerk recede, "Ouch."

Not used to seeing this much of my own blood. The Tygers are a lot more dangerous in their home turf, cracking out the big guns to defend their biz. My various healing abilities meant I was already bouncing back like a slower Wolverine. I couldn't fit a finger in the hole in my belly anymore and the various rips in my heavy realskin closed up due to the portable power of the sun which I carried around inside my chest.

"That was incredible!" shouted Ciri as she came over, yanking a jacket off of one of the dead men for her use while I picked up one of the Tech Rifles.

"Thanks, now keep focus. We are in the belly of the beast right now. The gunfire can come from anywhere." I informed her and we started moving, her gaze lingering on the woman blown apart by the fully charged Tech Rifle.

I pushed Ciri into a sex shop before the next hail of bullets ripped out of a nearby doorway. Said shooter got a chest full of five steel slugs from a single quick pull of the Achilles. This repeated more and more often as we got to the barricades at the mouth of Jig-Jig Street. I chucked the freshly spent rail gun at the last gonk between us and the streets, the heavy construction breaking open his brain case and I slipped his handgun out of his holster as we passed by.

I stopped the first car that passed by that would fit my wide ass, a sky blue Archer Hella being driven by a lard ball that made me look svelte by comparison. He gawked at my piece as I pulled him out of the driver seat, not even taking a glance at my gun. I crawled in and appreciated how the need for him to fit his gut behind the steering wheel allowed me the perfect amount of legroom. I opened the passenger door for Ciri who hopped in just in time for the Tyger Claws to shoot at our tail lights as we sped away.

The pissed off Claws started trouble in the rearview with an inbound Trauma Team, both sides taking serious fire as the fight continued. Fucking dumbasses. Trauma isn't some nightmare to fight like MaxTach, but you can put money on whoever they were responding to being important. When you fuck with Trauma Team you are also shooting at possibly any of the major corps as all of them use the service. They don't have competition anywhere close to their level of service anymore. Not after the Red. The time after the Third Corpo war was hell.

I chuckled as I hit level thirty, thinking up ways to make the Atomic! Perk work for me like Solar Powered. It'd be a bit more risky as I'd need exposure to either Uranium or Plutonium radiation to activate the perk, Uranium obviously as it is the lesser of two evils in this case. I figured it was worth the risk. At worst I'd have something to turn on at key moments, at best I could perma boost two more points in Strength and a fat 25 percent boost to move and attack speed with a nice little boost to stamina regeneration.

"I've never seen anyone move like that. You were like a monster back there." Ciri told me as she watched the world go by out the window.

"I'd hope so." I grinned, "I built myself for situations just like that."

"The spike hands were certainly something to discuss before the fornication." she shook her head, "Feel like I dodged a sword blow only getting impaled on your manhood last night."

"Eh, they do exactly as I want them to." I informed her with one hand on the wheel while the other ejected and retracted the spike housed in my wrist to varying lengths, "Perfect connection between mind and chrome. Smooth as silk."

To my surprise the young woman grabbed the hand and examined the spike and the retractable plates that cover the port when not in use. She ran a finger across the heavy real skin over it.

"I couldn't tell last night. A bit too deep into my cups and other… options. Just enjoyed how strong your hands were without thinking about it." she chuckled and ran her hand over the enhanced striking surface of my knuckles and fingers under a layer of hardened heavy realskin.

"Give me a sec." I told her as my holo display lit up and I called Jackie.

Jackie: Juan! Don't worry, hermano. Got your stuff, chica's too. Nice sword she got. Really old school. Got a real classy feel to it.

Big Juan: Thank God. Just had to fight my way out of Jig-Jig Street naked. Fuckers almost got me, but I'm safe now and in good shape.

Jackie: That's a news story I think I'll skip. Don't want to see your fat ass on the TV, that's for sure.

Big Juan: Gonna have a bunch of friend requests coming through once the ladies get to peek game at all this meat. Who could blame them? I certainly don't.

Jackie: Ah that reminds me. Rogue wanted me to pass a long a message for you… eh… she said… Nice cock.

When my Street Cred hit 31 I laughed hysterically all the way back to Heywood.

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Extra long chapter for the start of Ciri's stay in Cyberpunk.

"Ya'll motherfuckers came to the wrong hood."

-Juan D. Welles to the Wild Hunt, probably

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