Leon doesn't know if he's at rock bottom yet. The moment he thinks he found it, something else happens and the floor opens up in another terrifying freefall. He barely survives what was a hit on him. He has the data pad in hand โ his life is worth a mere ten thousand eddies.
Limping into the far flung Santo Domingo clinic, he has his doubts. It's more on the outskirts near the city limits than it is nestled where the veins of Night City pulse with more life. It's not near a megabuilding. Not tucked close to a NCART. Whoever this Ripperdoc is, he is far removed from the usual hustle.
โI don't have any money... not anymore, my accounts are all frozen, I have twenty eddies to my name.โ It's a bold introduction. Bolder still, when Leon slides the data pad over. โYour insurance if I don't pay you back.โ He's well fucking aware the man could kill him and cash in. Maybe that would be easier. At least he could rest then. โI just need you to change my fucking chip... no fixer is going to make deals with a cop. I'm not going back to that life, I... I need help.โ He doesn't want any other care. He's bruised, busted up, blood seeping through a makeshift bandage made out of a discarded shirt he found in a box. Truly, he's scraping the bottom of the Night City barrel.
Twenty eddies was mighty fucking little for what this little pendejo asked for.
Butโฆ abuelo had instilled a certain belief in Luis. And that is what saves this manโs life. Luisโ eyes squint at the almost-ex-cop. Cop was a bad word. A warning, after all. Because Luis is sure he is still sought after. But alsoโฆ this one looks like he couldnโt even put up a threat if he wanted to.
Red9โs safety clicked back on.
โAh, I mean, twenty eddies wonโt get you the luxury packageโฆ but letโs see what I can doโฆ Iโll make it cheap for ya.โ
Itโs probably one of the last things the blond hears as Luis bows over him โ and the world plunges into blackness.
When Leon wakes back up, he lies on a simple but clean ripperdoc bed. His systems are calm, albeit still a little frazzled from the former mistreatment. His bleeding wounds are all nicely bandaged and wrapped up. And his chip is wiped clean. A new identity.
The ripperdoc sits crosslegged on a chair, engrossed in some tablet that shows him the data he had extracted from Leon.
โLeon Scott Kennedy, eh?โ, Luis greets the waking man with a smirk.
โAnd you really were a copโฆ what was your job there, huh? Were you the honey pot?โ
