Bursting Tomato 7

The evacuation route was Atmore's design. As a bounty hunter who'd spent years in Night City, he knew the place like the back of his hand.

He knew where the tunnels were, where the maintenance routes ran, and which corners had no surveillance cameras.

They switched cars twice to ensure the plates couldn't be traced.

In the back of the new car, there were several changes of clothes. The partition went up, and the two of them changed into clean jackets and pulled off their wigs, which went into a bag along with the dirty clothes. At least to the naked eye, they no longer looked like they'd just crawled out of a pile of blood.

"Damn, roadblock up ahead." Atmore smacked the steering wheel.

Further ahead lay the West District, known as the rat nest for the lower class—bounty hunters, drifter clans, and small gangsters. The Dongye family setting up a checkpoint here felt like casting a net in a fishpond.

Yan Xianchuan peered out the window. The intersection was blocked off, with a dozen or so guards standing by, each holding a weapon. Every car was stopped and interrogated before being allowed through.

"Do they have the right to stop citizens? This has to be illegal." Yan Xianchuan sounded like a law-abiding, friendly citizen voicing a curious question.

"In Night City, the Dongye family is the law. Government people are just their lapdogs." Atmore let out a derisive snort. "Setting up a roadblock? If they wanted to blow up the whole West District, would the Investigation Bureau dare to say a word?"

"They've already seen us. Turning back now would make us look suspicious. The cameras didn't catch us; they don't know who did it. Everyone stay calm, don't blow it."

Atmore slowed down and came to a stop. He rolled down the window, propped his elbow on the sill, and asked with feigned curiosity, "Well, if it isn't Captain Hill. Long time no see. When did you get stuck with roadblock duty? What's going on, another incident?"

A woman with short black hair, clad in a tight combat suit, looked down at him. She moved with the efficient grace of a stalking leopard. "Routine check."

"Where were you just now? I need to see your dashcam footage."

"Just making a delivery, earning some extra cash." Atmore tapped a few buttons on the display to pull up the footage, showing it openly. His eyes, full of charm and subtle provocation, fixed on her as he said in a low voice, "Got time? Want to hook up? Just a few drinks, I promise."

Hill's gaze swept over the other three in the car, then she shot him a warning look. "No."

She straightened up, waved to someone behind her, and the barrier rose. "Try to stay out of trouble." With that, she stepped back and moved on to check the next car.

The cars ahead and behind were all stopped with doors and trunks open for a thorough search. Theirs got only a cursory glance. It wasn't a leak—it was a floodgate opening.

Before anyone could ask, Atmore explained on his own: "Connections. That's what we call connections!"

Harper let out a laugh of disdain, her contempt clear.

The safe house was one of Atmore's hideouts, a two-story small building. The first floor was piled with junk—overturned chairs, a car engine, and all sorts of strewn repair tools. It looked like a warehouse. Harper rolled her eyes at the sight. "Men."

"Hey! I heard that." Atmore called out from the front.

"We're safe now," he said, pulling over a few chairs. "So what happened? Weren't we supposed to keep it low-key? Now they've got roadblocks even in the West District. The whole city's probably on lockdown."

"Dr. Sera's chip exploded," Lu Mingqiu said.

"According to the plan, Harper would have led you out, like nothing happened. But now two people are missing, and the Dongye family will definitely trace it back to her," Atmore continued, about to say more until Harper cut him off.

"It doesn't matter. I've made enough money anyway. I've been wanting to get out of here for a while; I just hadn't made up my mind. So this is perfect timing." Harper shrugged, as if she didn't care.

Atmore seemed about to say something else but stopped. He patted his clothes and stood up. "Well, as long as you know what you're doing. I'll go grab some food. Until things cool down, you all stay here and try not to wander off."

"We'll go take a shower," Yan Xianchuan said.

Lu Mingqiu walked into the bedroom with unsteady steps, like a wind chime swaying precariously under the eaves.

"You need treatment," Yan Xianchuan reminded her. "Do you have any medicine?"

"There's some at the base. I've already notified Gold Ring to bring it over." Lu Mingqiu sat on the floor, back against the wall, her breathing barely steady. "Go take your shower. I'll be fine after a moment."

Vulnerable.

She was like a baby bird fallen from its nest, its down feathers damp with dew, trembling and curled up, yet trying to stay calm and not reveal its weakness, to keep itself hidden from predators.

Yan Xianchuan watched her for a while, then turned and stepped into the bathroom. Warm water streamed from the showerhead over her head. Dried clumps of blood softened and dissolved under the heat, running down her body to the floor.

She closed her eyes, but her mind drifted to the scene in the car: Lu Mingqiu's body slamming into her arms, carrying the scent of blood, gunpowder, and gun oil.

She was slim and light; her role as an actress kept her figure under strict control. The desserts she regularly bought for Yan Xianchuan, she never touched herself.

From that seemingly delicate frame came a fierce, admirable resolve. When she aimed, she was so focused; her eyes held a faint chill of intent, but more than that, a confidence of a single, decisive hit.

Like a spider plant—with a soft, harmless exterior, but its roots actually spread far and wide, occupying every bit of space in the pot.

She had been thinking about Lu Mingqiu for too long. Yan Xianchuan suddenly snapped out of it and frowned.

What was she reminiscing about? That touch that barely even counted as half a hug? Only people with high emotional needs liked physical contact, liked intimate interactions with their own kind. She didn't like it, nor was she interested.

Yan Xianchuan pondered for a moment, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

It was normal to feel a bit unsettled and to inadvertently recall the sensation of being in contact with another body after a long time without it.

Like someone who never sees the sun stepping outside at noon one day and feeling out of place.

Satisfied with her conclusion, she continued cleaning herself. In front of the mirror, she smiled and hummed a tune. The water sounds and her singing filtered through the frosted glass door, which did little to block noise. Her pitch was perfect, and without effort, Lu Mingqiu recognized the melody as "Carmen."

So today's events had put her in a good mood.

Psychopaths easily get bored with a monotonous, peaceful life. Lu Mingqiu sometimes thought of Yan Xianchuan as a caged carnivore; her wild instincts still intact, a full belly made her calm and docile, but no one knew how long that satiety would last.

What if she lost interest?

Yan Xianchuan finished her shower, changed into clean clothes, and came out. Lu Mingqiu was still sitting on the floor, head bowed, as if asleep.

She walked over to her, crouched down, and tilted her head to look at her.

"Gold Ring is here. Could you go get the medicine?" Lu Mingqiu suddenly spoke.

"Alright," Yan Xianchuan said.

To avoid being seen, she climbed out the window and landed lightly on the ground. The injury to her internal organs was nothing to her; her self-healing was far beyond normal, and now only a dull, strange sensation remained.

She walked to the corner and took a small box from Gold Ring, who wore a cap.

"Is Oriole okay?" Gold Ring asked, his face full of concern.

"Probably fine," Yan Xianchuan said after thinking. "She's still alive."

Gold Ring's expression twisted for an instant, but then he remembered that Oriole had briefed them—this new member, Polite Biscuits, had an odd way of thinking, and they shouldn't take her words to heart. His face was complicated. "You... never mind. Tell her to rest well."

"Thank you for your concern. You too," Yan Xianchuan said.

Gold Ring turned and left the way he came.

Yan Xianchuan climbed up the drainpipe to the second floor, slipped in through the open window. Lu Mingqiu raised her head to look at her; her face was deathly pale, as if she'd been left out in a snowfield for three days.

Inside the box was a syringe. Yan Xianchuan went to wash her hands. "Where does this go?"

Lu Mingqiu laid her arm out flat, and her words drifted lightly from her lips. "Here."

Her skin was very fair, and the light purple veins lying beneath looked like wisteria climbing a wall.

Yan Xianchuan wiped the small area with alcohol, grasped her arm with her left hand, and took the syringe in her right. She slowly inserted the needle into the vein and pushed the plunger.

The entire dose went in. Yan Xianchuan placed the empty syringe back in the box and watched the person who was breathing heavily for a moment. "I can help you get cleaned up," she said.

There was a brief pause in the other's breathing.

"The blood on you has dried," Yan Xianchuan said.

"Thank you, but I can manage on my own." Lu Mingqiu got up, supporting herself against the wall, as if a thousand words were stuck in her throat, but in the end she managed only two, "Thank you."

She shuffled slowly to the bathroom. Yan Xianchuan watched her back for a while, confirming she really didn't need help, then lay down on the bed.

It was her lucky day; she was in a good mood and didn't mind touching someone else, but the other hadn't wanted it. No such luck next time.

She turned over and pulled up a holographic screen to browse the net. Night City's sudden lockdown had caused a stir, with all sorts of theories flying around about the cause.

Some said they'd seen a high-speed chase on West Ring Road, maybe related; others said a West District gang had messed up and crossed the Dongye family; still others said it was a follow-up to last time's dinner attack.

But no one questioned why the official investigators were also out in force helping the Dongye family search. Apparently their status as local tyrants had long been accepted.

Last time, when Mechanical Pure Land had abducted Dr. Sera, the team that went in had been wiped out; they all had self-destruct bombs implanted, and when things went south, they blew themselves up, denying the enemy any chance to capture and interrogate them.

This time, the failure couldn't be blamed on Yan Xianchuan. Rattler had sent more words of comfort, telling her not to take it to heart, which she brushed off with vague murmurs.

Mechanical Pure Land certainly cared a great deal about their new recruit; she wondered how they'd feel when they discovered she was a turncoat.

She scrolled further and a headline sat at the end of the hot search list: "Movie Emperor Xie Chuxiao Steps Down in Shame."

Yan Xianchuan: That name sounds familiar.

She tapped it and remembered: that was the hypocritical guy from the variety show. Not even days had passed, but Yan Xianchuan had already forgotten about him.

Nothing else caught her eye, mostly gossip. News of Dr. Sera's death hadn't come out, likely suppressed by the Dongye family.

They were banking on the Consciousness-Separation Serum to make big money, and Dr. Sera was the project lead. Her death wasn't good news for either of the Dongye father and son.

After a while, Lu Mingqiu came out of the shower, looking much better. Maybe the medicine was working, or maybe the steam had brought some color back to her face.

"We're having an online meeting. I'll share the intel from this operation," Lu Mingqiu said. "Don't go anywhere. You're participating."

The meeting was held at the branch base via holographic projection.

Not everyone attended—only those involved, the Doctor, and one person whose identity was obscured, looking like a human-shaped pillar. Their gender, height, and build were unknowable, and their voice was distorted.

"I searched Dr. Sera's memories," Lu Mingqiu began in a grave tone. "I obtained the manufacturing process and formula for the Consciousness-Separation Serum, which I'll send to Dr. Sera later. One thing to note: the 'special material' they mentioned earlier is a hormone extracted from the human body, which Dr. Sera named 'Quiet Factor.' It takes ten bodies' worth to extract a single dose for one injection."

"And this hormone is only secreted under extreme physical torment," she continued. "So, every single subject has died without exception."

"That's why the Dongye family wanted to bring other minor families in on this—they can't source enough raw material. Too many disappearances in one area would raise suspicion, so they need to broaden the search."

"Second, Dongye He was working with Dr. Sera to secretly kill Dongye Zhengqi. Now that Dr. Sera is dead, he'll likely adjust his plans."

"Third, Dongye Zhengqi has connections to the Holy Healing Church."

When she finished, the room fell silent. Some were stunned, others deep in thought, while Yan Xianchuan was zoning out, deciding to give the unknown person an epithet: Blur.

No one spoke for a while, until Blur finally said, "Keep tabs on Dongye He. If he makes a move, we should take control of him while we can. Oriole, you'll handle the mind games. Once things settle, we'll install a puppet."

Lu Mingqiu took only a moment to consider before nodding. "Understood. I'll arrange it."

"The rest is up to you." With that, Blur logged off.

"Dr. Sera, the serum production is in your hands. I need a cost report. As for the perfected version, there's bound to be a sample in Dr. Sera's lab. I'll figure out a way to get it."

"Hei Ge, you're on surveillance."

"Gold Ring, Silver Ring, investigate the Dongye family's branch lines. Find someone suitable as a puppet."

"Any other opinions or suggestions?" Lu Mingqiu looked around.

"Yes," Gold Ring said abruptly. "We'd all like to know—how are you doing right now?"

Lu Mingqiu's expression softened. "A couple of days to rest, and I'll be fine. Don't worry. How's Bai Ge?"

Hei Ge's voice came through the speaker, flat. "Not good. He won't talk to anyone, won't even talk to me. He's locked himself in his room."

Even through the vocoder, his exhaustion and worry were plain.

"Should I go see him?" Lu Mingqiu offered, meaning she could use her esper ability to soothe him.

Hei Ge was silent for a beat before replying, "Not yet. He'll get through it. He's always been tough."

"Let me know if you need anything." Lu Mingqiu's tone was gentle. "For now, let's lay low and watch. Stay safe, everyone. Dismissed."

Once the hologram shut down, Lu Mingqiu rubbed her temples and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm starting to notice you hold some serious rank," Yan Xianchuan said, clicking her tongue, tilting her head back to look up at her. "Always barking orders."

"I'm in charge," Lu Mingqiu said, meeting her gaze, then added, "One of the head coordinators."

"Wow." Yan Xianchuan let out an impressed sound. "That's impressive."

"Not really. I just overthink things." Lu Mingqiu glanced at her, still pondering how to handle the unhinged woman beside her.

Three knocks on the door. Atmore's voice came from the other side. "Come on out, food's ready."

"Got held up on the way back—ran into Hill, chatted a bit. Didn't starve waiting, did you?" Atmore pulled meal containers out of an insulated bag one by one.

"She's one of the Dongye's." Lu Mingqiu eyed the table, which held four dishes and a soup—meat and veg both, ribs smothered in sauce, tomatoes bobbing in the broth, and steaming buns stacked high. None of it looked like takeout.

Atmore passed out disposable chopsticks before sitting down. At her words, he only raised an eyebrow. "Hill's security squad leader."

Nobody seemed inclined to ask, so he carried on by himself. "Speaking of how we met—now that's a hell of a romantic story."

"Yeah, the story where a thief got caught," Harper said with a roll of her eyes, exasperated. "You tell this to anyone who'll listen."

"What do you know? That's romance!" Atmore wore a look of superiority, cleared his throat, and recounted, "Once, I was just trying to earn some meal money, and somehow I ended up robbing a corporation. The client never bothered to mention it had anything to do with the Dongye family. Got myself chased by a dozen or so people, nearly lost my damn head!"

"But I wasn't about to take that loss. I sold the goods on the side and pocketed a clean commission. Guess how much?"

Yan Xianchuan played along enthusiastically: "How much?"

Atmore held up three fingers. "Thirty grand! But that bastard cost me. The security team chased me for a whole month before they let up. All of them gave up except Hill—she just wouldn't quit."

"I had her tailed a few times, found out she spends weekends volunteering at an orphanage, even donates to the kids. What's with those looks? Not surprised? Here's the thing: a corporate operative with that kind of kindness is as absurd as a cat living with a pack of rats."

"So I came up with a plan, pulled some strings so the donation eventually got routed to Tongxin Orphanage. When she finally caught me, she let me go after all."

"So you didn't donate," Yan Xianchuan said.

"Tongxin Orphanage is a money-laundering front," Atmore said with a shrug. "It just looks like an orphanage on the surface."

His curly golden hair looked as if it had been woven from wheat stalks of the harvest. On his almost movie-star handsome face appeared a complex expression mixing disbelief, admiration, and pride. "Who'd have thought there were still good people in this world, though? Does she really think a donation like that ever reaches the kids?"

"If she knew that much, she'd have shot you on sight instead of letting you go," Harper said, blowing out a smoke ring.

"Got a point," Atmore agreed with a nod.

After dinner, Harper stood up and dusted herself off. "I'm heading out. I've got my own place; not staying here."

"Take care."

Atmore left with her, and soon the room was down to two.

"Aren't we going back to the base?" Yan Xianchuan asked.

"One rest day. We'll head back tomorrow."

For them, leaving would be easy—just a quick change of face. But Lu Mingqiu could barely stay upright through dinner. If they left now, she'd probably keel over asleep a few meters down the road. Better to spend the night here.

"Fine, your call. Two rooms here, one each." With that, Yan Xianchuan went to the empty room on the left, leaving the one they'd used earlier for Lu Mingqiu.

That bed was already made—save her the trouble.

See, Yan Xianchuan could be considerate when she felt like it. Lu Mingqiu would bet that despite her psychological issues, she had better manners than most normal people.

She even managed to throw her trash in the bin.

The night passed quietly. For many, tonight would be sleepless, but the ones who caused it all slept like babies.

Early the next morning, just as the two were about to leave, Atmore showed up with two bags of breakfast. He meant well, they couldn't refuse, so they sat down for one last meal.

When they finished, Lu Mingqiu said, "Thank you. Sorry for the trouble all this time."

"You're leaving?" Atmore asked.

"Yes. We have a safe house in the West District too. If we stay and something goes wrong, it could drag you in." Lu Mingqiu explained.

"You're not ordinary mercenaries, are you?" Atmore suddenly spoke. Meeting their gazes, he suppressed the urge to turn and run, his scalp prickling. "Regular mercs wouldn't dare target a corporation, and they don't have intel networks like yours."

"Don't get the wrong idea—I'm not trying to cause trouble." He raised both hands in surrender. "I want in."

"I know if I guessed right and say it out loud, this could cost me my life. But I've got a reason I have to ask." Atmore's expression was pleading. "Please. Just give me a chance?"

"Alright, let's hear it—your reason." Lu Mingqiu sat back down.

"I come from a drifter clan, small one, maybe a dozen of us, based in Qutang Town outside Night City. One day, I followed the adults out to scavenge, and when I got back, the camp was empty. My brother was lying there covered in blood. He was the only one left."

Atmore spoke slowly, as if recounting old memories, each word pulling the scab off an old wound. "I asked him what happened. He said a group in security uniforms had taken everyone. He'd fought back and wounded one, so they beat him and left him there to die."

For a moment, he looked like he couldn't continue. "One of them said, You've killed a man, how are we supposed to make quota now? The other said, Just go grab one more."

"I know—I've always known—that those corporate elites never saw us as human." Atmore's eyes burned with a bitter hatred. "In their eyes, we're livestock, objects, trash to be used! Throw us aside when we're a bother, grab a few when they need something, and never give a damn whether we live or die."

"I hate them. Every single one. But what good does one man do? Can't even get through a company's front door, couldn't get hired as a janitor. To take revenge on the Dongye family, I couldn't even dream of it."

Atmore forced a wry smile, his tone resolute. "So no matter who you folks are, as long as you're against the corporations, that's enough for me! I want to join. Really. I'll do anything. If not through you, I can't see any other way."

Yan Xianchuan kept her eyes on Lu Mingqiu. The other woman's face revealed nothing, but she knew the story had to have stirred something.

A large portion of the Resistance were people with similar pasts. She wouldn't reject Atmore.

Yan Xianchuan's thoughts started wandering. She, on the other hand, had no tragic backstory. So why had Lu Mingqiu accepted her back then...?

Huh?

"Your reason's solid enough," Lu Mingqiu said, calm and unruffled. "But first thing you should know is what we call ourselves."

"What?" Atmore couldn't believe it was that easy. "Really? Wait—why are you telling me so easily? Shouldn't you ask more questions or test me? What if I'm a spy?"

Lu Mingqiu gave a faint smile, her voice gentle. "Don't worry. If you try anything now, you're dead."