Adventure of Artyom Barseek

Rain ticks against the recycling depot’s sheet metal. A bloodied adult woman, with a narrow face, brown eyes, and close-cropped dark hair on the unshaved side, crawls from a maintenance culvert, lean beneath a torn black jacket, one side of her scalp shaved around a glowing neck jack. A severed fiber line trails from it through the oily runoff.

She drags herself upright against a stained concrete pillar. Her eyes keep finding the silver case beneath Artyom’s jacket, while distant scanner tones comb the alley mouth.

The fiber line twitches in the runoff. A blue pulse travels from the woman’s neck jack toward the culvert, then returns brighter, synchronized with a faint electronic throb beneath the pavement.

Across the alley, a sealed utility hatch unlocks one bolt with a sharp metallic click. Mara freezes beside the pillar, while rainwater carries the severed line toward the opening.

Artyom watches from cover as Mara remains fixed beside the pillar, unaware. He draws the King-Slayer M8, settles the sights, and keeps the silver case tight beneath his jacket.

The pistol cracks once through the rain. Mara’s head snaps back, and her body folds beside the pillar, motionless, while the severed fiber line spasms in the runoff.

The shot rolls between the depot walls and fades into Night City’s industrial hum. No answering voices reach the alley yet, only the distant sweep of scanners beyond the mouth.

Artyom turns and runs, boots striking wet concrete. He cuts past stacked recycling crates, keeping low as the silver case presses against his ribs and neon smears across the puddles.

Behind him, the body lies beside the unlocked hatch, drawing the alley’s attention toward the gunfire and the pulsing trace. Artyom reaches the next service lane without slowing.