Chapter 14 : Goblin Bag

Gulp—

“Some kind of misunderstanding—mph!”

Before Maine can finish, a massive hand clamps his jaw.

Reflexively, he grabs at the hand, trying to wrench his head back, but it doesn’t budge an inch. Stunned, Maine swallows hard, raising both hands in surrender.

“The Boss is still talking.”

This is bad.
The low, flippant voice carries a beastly growl, tightening around his body.

“Move, and you’re dead. Stay still.”

He doesn’t need to be told—it’s painfully clear.
The blades at his crew’s throats gleam, proving the threat’s no lie.

In this life-or-death moment, nothing makes sense.
He doesn’t know who this kid is, but he’s under their protection.
Swallowing a sigh, Maine scans the scene, realizing how deep this mess goes.

One thing stands out, though, feeling instinctively wrong.

The beast-like guy ready to crush his skull, or the ghost who’d slice a neck with a twitch—fine. But the one guy these monsters respect?
A plain hoodie, face obscured by shadow, impossible to make out.
With eyes that see clear as day, a face hidden by some flimsy shade shouldn’t be invisible. What, is there a force field on it?

Oddly, the lazy glint in those eyes feels out of place in this tense standoff.

It’s like only the parts he allows you to see are visible.

No bulky frame, no obvious cyberware.
No “space” for implants.

It’s hard to wrap his head around.
Imagine a tiger’s master being a rat—who’d buy that?

“Come over here. Yeah, you. Drop the dumb look. David, who else would I mean?”

The guy’s gesture, dripping with boredom, doesn’t match the high-stakes scene.
We’re sweating bullets, and he’s chilling.

A glance down shows the kid.
David’s face, clearly unprepared, brims with shock.

So, he didn’t call them.

As David stumbles forward, hesitant, the tension locks Maine’s team in place.
The presumed master of these beasts moves his hand again.

Thwack—

“Ow! Why’d you hit me?!”
“Kid, who just waltzes into someone’s house? You got too comfy ‘cause I had your back.”
“I need money, and sitting around won’t get it!”
“What, chasing a girl all giddy-like?”
“That’s…!”
“Look at this guy. If I hadn’t shown up, they’d have gutted you. Wake up, this is Night City.”

Like brothers. No, more like a mischievous dad and his son.
F*ck, we’re screwed.

“Anyway, this—”

He points at David’s swollen cheek.
David looks up at us.

Don’t move.
Can’t move.

That’s the only thought dominating Maine’s mind.
The blade at his throat is bad enough, but this feeling—this gut instinct—screams louder.

Amateurs ignore this and pay the price, but Maine, hardened by countless battles, knows it well.

Move, and my head’s gone.

Even facing a Basilisk wasn’t this bad…!

His cybernetic arms tremble uncontrollably.
In the dark, a searing blue flame glows.

This is insane. Is this the same guy from before?
Now I see why he’s the beasts’ master.
A beast himself—no, compared to this, the others were child’s play.

“Hey, enough already!”

David’s voice, a mix of irritation and embarrassment, flips the mood.
The kill-or-be-killed vibe vanishes.

“Ungrateful brat, even after I help—”
“The Sandevistan’s mine! But I’m sorry, so let me work with you guys!”

What’s that now?
A deal so unfair it’s laughable.
Maine should reject it outright, but in this situation, anyone bold enough to say no would have balls worth investing in.

“Fine, then a test—”
“You idiot!”

The man’s hand smacks David’s head so hard it seems to cave in.
What’s chilling is how it moved too fast to see.

“Your mom’d wake up and collapse again hearing this! You think I dragged you to the hospital for this?!”

The more he talks, the clearer their bond seems—hard to doubt now.
If this is a dad smacking his kid, we’ve got no defense.

“Boss… the kid’s foaming at the mouth…”

Oh, sh*t, not his kid?

“So, I’m saying I’ll live my own life now!”
“You little sh*t! Is that what your mom taught you?!”

The tense air’s pushed aside, replaced by two idiots spitting at each other.
Everyone’s sitting, watching, even the guy’s presumed crew.

“No matter how I look at it, they seem related.”
“What’re you getting at?”
“I’m saying, isn’t he his kid? Everyone screws up young, right?”
“Say that to the Boss, and your tongue’s gone for good.”
“If he doesn’t hear, it’s fine—ow!”
“I hear everything, you bastard!”

Something flies, and the guy ducks, but the thrower’s too good.

“You’re asking for a beating. Fine, I get why you quit the academy, and why you beat that classmate, but why the hell be a cyberpunk?”
“To make money—!”
“I said I’d cover you!”
“That’s…”

David’s voice quiets, and the man puffs up, smug as if he’s won.
Pathetic, but Maine remembers: this lunatic could slaughter us in seconds.

Just as the kid’s subdued voice signals the end, and Maine thinks they can finally explain—or excuse—themselves, the kid proves he’s not sane either.

“It’s embarrassing…”

David can’t know this feeling is family—he just finds the itching emotion unbearably humiliating.

“If I keep relying on you, I’ll never recover… I won’t be able to face Mom with pride.”

It’s a weak argument.
In a filthy, chaotic world, prioritizing pride over gain is hard to swallow.

But think about it.
If this kid thought that far ahead, he wouldn’t have gone after an Arasaka exec’s son.
Hell, he ripped out a spine without anesthesia over a taunt.

He’s a lunatic by normal standards, but making you realize it again is a talent.

“…Ugh, f*ck. Even Pyongyang’s audits stop if you don’t want ‘em…”

This kid’s a headache just by existing. Impressive, really.

“Fine. Do what you want. But if you come crawling back for help, I won’t let it slide.”
“So…!”
“Be a cyberpunk, a cyberpsycho, whatever. Just take this and promise one thing.”

Look at this kid, staring blankly instead of taking it.
I get he was tricked by some girl, but those puppy eyes make me wanna throw a punch.

Sensing the vibe, David flinches, grabbing the black card with gold stripes.

“What’s this?”
“My contact.”
“Your tech’s ancient, and now this old-school stuff…”
“Watch your mouth.”
“…Tch.”

“Keep it.”

It’ll come in handy someday.

A Dokkaebi lifeline—worth more than millions, maybe even a life.