Cyberpunk: Asuka Vektor

After the impromptu interrogation in the shadows of the alley, Asuka, Jackie, and Sasha learned the truth—this wasn't the work of a corp or any big organization, at least not directly. It was just someone out there who had put a bounty on Asuka’s head, dead or alive. The payout was enticing, with a steep difference between the two conditions: 10% of the amount for killing her, but the full bounty for bringing her in alive. Whoever put this bounty out clearly wanted her in one piece, and they were willing to pay a hefty amount for it. Revenge, it seemed, was a strong motivator, though the reason why was still a mystery.

The only clue they had to go on was the alias, "Pink Admirer." It was someone who clearly knew enough about Asuka’s signature style and habits to pick a name that referenced her distinct neon pink aesthetic. But beyond that? Nothing. The guy they interrogated was just another small-time merc who took the job off the black market, without knowing much about the client.

Asuka leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, her expression set in a mix of frustration and determination. Jackie, with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looked to Sasha, whose eyes were scanning through information, trying to make sense of the fragmented data they had pulled from the failed kidnapper’s gear.

“No corpo, no gang,” Sasha muttered, half to herself, her fingers swiping through a translucent AR display only she could see. “This guy’s smart enough to keep his identity off the market completely. All we got is a codename and a fat bounty.”

Jackie rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to Asuka. “So, someone out there is mad enough at you to pay big bucks to either see you dead or drag you in.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Must’ve made quite the impression, chica.”

Asuka sighed, her face a mix of tired amusement and irritation. “Yeah, well, I guess I should be flattered, right?” She shook her head, staring down at the unconscious guy they had tied up. “But we’re not gonna get anything else outta this one. He’s just a pawn, and whoever 'Pink Admirer' is, they’re keeping their hands clean.”

Sasha looked up, her eyes sharp, her mind racing through possibilities. “We need to figure out who this is, or at least flush them out somehow. But how? The black market stuff is encrypted to hell and back.”

Jackie’s face slowly lit up, a spark of an idea forming behind his eyes. “What if… what if we flipped it?” He looked at Asuka, then Sasha, his grin growing. “What if we gave them what they want?”

Asuka frowned, confusion crossing her features. “What do you mean, Jackie?”

Jackie pointed to the unconscious guy. “They want you alive, right? What if we make them think they’re getting just that?” He raised an eyebrow, a sly grin on his lips. “We set up a fake delivery. We bring someone mean-looking, scary enough to convince this ‘Pink Admirer’ that they’re really getting what they want.”

Asuka’s eyes widened as realization dawned. “You mean… a setup. We fake cashing in on the bounty to get close to whoever is behind it.”

Sasha’s eyebrows shot up, and she nodded slowly, the idea beginning to take shape in her mind. “It could work… but we need someone convincing. Someone who could pass as a legit merc cashing in on a big payday.”

Jackie snapped his fingers, his grin widening. “Maine. We get Maine to play the part. He’s got the look, the size, and if anyone can sell it, it’s him. Big, mean, and intimidating.”

Asuka considered it, her expression growing more excited. “Maine’s perfect. He’s already got a rep as a tough merc, and he’s got the muscle to back it up. If we get him on board, he could play the part, say he captured me, and we follow along, see where this ‘Pink Admirer’ wants the delivery to go.”

Sasha nodded in agreement. “We can even track the comms in real time. Once Maine makes contact, I can backtrace the signals, see if we can get a fix on where this guy is hiding. At the very least, it’ll give us a lead.”

Jackie clapped his hands together, the plan coming together in his mind. “Alright, let’s do it then. We talk to Maine, see if he’s in, and if he is, we set up the hand-off. We keep Pink Kitty on standby in case things go sideways, and Sasha tracks everything from a distance.”

Asuka pushed herself off the wall, her grin now firmly in place, the thrill of a new challenge lighting up her eyes. “Alright then. Let’s give this 'Pink Admirer' exactly what they want.” She looked down at the unconscious kidnapper, her grin turning slightly wicked. “And make sure they regret ever coming after me.”

Jackie gave a firm nod, Sasha’s eyes already focused, working on sending a message to Maine.

After getting the message, Maine and Falco rolled up to the meeting spot with Falco's car. The plan was simple: snap a convincing photo of Asuka pretending to be knocked out in the back of the car, send it to the number the merc had given them, and wait for further instructions. Asuka had taken to her role with a sly smile, slumping over and playing unconscious as Maine arranged her in the backseat. They snapped a quick shot, Maine grumbling at how convincingly "defeated" Asuka could look, and sent it off.

Minutes later, a ping came back with coordinates, deeper into the barren emptiness of the Badlands. They followed the directions, the road growing rougher, dust swirling around them until they arrived at the spot—a run-down house, clearly fortified, standing lonely amid a cluster of rocks and scrub.

Falco pulled up a distance away, the group scanning their surroundings. Mines littered the perimeter, half-buried in the sand, and automated turrets turned slowly, tracking movement along their preset paths. Whoever this "Pink Admirer" was, he had gone to considerable lengths to secure his hideout.

Jackie, Sasha, and Falco stayed behind, providing overwatch and ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. Maine, meanwhile, took a deep breath, hoisting the still-pretending Asuka over his shoulder, striding towards the front of the house.

"Alright, chica. Time to see if this plays out like we planned," Maine muttered, adjusting her weight as they approached the door.

Asuka, keeping her eyes just barely cracked open, murmured back, "Just make sure you get me in there. After that, I got it."

Reaching the door, Maine noticed a camera set above it, blinking as it tracked him. He pounded a fist on the doorframe, and after a moment, the door opened just a crack, a male voice crackling through a speaker, clearly nervous.

"Drop her on the doorstep and leave. No funny business."

Maine raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin. “Funny business, huh?” Without waiting, he pivoted, and with one mighty kick, slammed his boot into the door. The door shattered off its hinges, flying inward and striking the person behind it.

The average-looking guy—pudgy, mid-twenties, with a distinctly unremarkable face—went sprawling backwards, rolling on the floor, clutching his side where the door had struck him.

Asuka slipped off Maine’s shoulder, landing lightly on her feet and shaking out her arms, looking around the room as she dusted herself off. What she saw made her pause, her eyes widening in both shock and a strange mix of amusement.

Photos. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of photos, plastered every wall. Photos of her, some candid, some clearly taken without her knowing, some even from public gigs they had done. On a table nearby, there were 3D-printed figurines of her, some in poses she recognized and some she definitely did not. The most unnerving of all, though, was the life-sized sex doll—realistic, detailed, wearing copy of clothes she owned. Its face was her face and body, its eyes vacant and lifeless, staring into nothing.

Maine let out a low whistle, looking around. “Damn, this guy’s a real piece of work.” His eyes narrowed, the disgust evident on his face. “Guy’s got issues.”

But Asuka? She tilted her head, her lips curving into a grin that was both amused and self-satisfied. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised. I mean, with my beauty, sexiness, and cuteness? There was bound to be someone obsessed. Gotta admit, though, this guy's taken it to another level.”

Maine shot her an incredulous look. “You’re actually proud of this, chica?”

Asuka shrugged, still grinning. “Hey, it’s not every day you see this level of dedication.” She nudged one of the figurines with her foot, watching it topple over. “Creepy as hell, though.”

Jackie barged in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on the "Pink Admirer" struggling to his feet, his eyes wide and panicked. When Jackie saw the shrine—photos, figurines, and that doll—his expression turned dark.

“Dios mío,” he muttered. He turned to the guy, who was still on the floor, trying to back away on his hands and knees. Jackie’s nostrils flared, and before anyone could say anything, he grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him up and shaking him.

“You think this is normal, you sick piece of shit?” Jackie growled, the rage evident in his eyes. He threw the guy down, delivering a heavy punch to his stomach that made the man wheeze, curling into himself.

The guy—who had been blubbering and trying to cover his head—started sobbing. “Please, I’m sorry! I-I just… I saw her, and I… I couldn’t stop thinking about her… I just, I love her, okay?!”

Asuka’s grin faded slightly as she knelt down beside the guy, her eyes cold now. “Love?” She repeated the word, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Buddy, you don’t even know me. This isn’t love, this is obsession.” She leaned in close, her voice lowering to a threatening whisper. “And obsession gets people killed in Night City.”

The guy looked up, tears streaking his face, desperation in his eyes. “Please… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted—wanted you to notice me…”

Maine grimaced, crossing his arms, clearly restraining himself from beating the guy further. “This guy’s a real piece of work. Corpo kid, right? Daddy’s money must’ve really messed him up.”

Asuka sighed, straightening up, her arms crossing over her chest. “So that’s it, huh? Corpo brat gets infatuated, thinks he can just put a bounty on me to get what he wants?” She looked around at the disturbing shrine, shaking her head. “This is beyond fucked up.”

Jackie cracked his knuckles, glaring down at the guy. “So what now, Asuka? We put him in the dirt, or what?”

Before deciding on his punishment, they had the "Pink Admirer" delete the bounty that had been put on Asuka. He was trembling, his hands shaking as he did it under their watchful gaze, deleting every trace of the bounty from the black market networks. Asuka, Jackie, Maine, and Sasha stood around him, each of them glaring as he worked, the atmosphere tense and thick with disdain.

Once that was done, they sat him down in his shrine, surrounded by all his twisted memorabilia—his photos, his figurines, that sex doll. Sasha had hacked into his systems and found the contact information for his corporate father. She was ready, camera and audio recording devices set up, ensuring every detail would be captured and delivered. Asuka's plan was clear: they weren't going to just scare this creep—they were going to destroy his life in the way that would hurt the most.

"Alright, kid," Jackie sneered, stepping up to him, leaning in close. "You wanna play games? Let's play."

They forced him into all kinds of degrading acts, nothing physically harmful but enough to completely shatter his sense of dignity. They made him confess everything on camera—the creepy obsession, the attempt to kidnap Asuka, his ridiculous shrine. They forced him to say it all out loud, his voice breaking, tears streaking down his cheeks. Sasha made sure the camera captured his face from every possible angle, his voice trembling as he begged his father for forgiveness.

Asuka stood nearby, arms crossed, a cold smile playing on her lips. "Keep going, sweetheart," she said mockingly, her voice dripping with disdain. "Make sure Daddy knows just how twisted you are."

Once they had enough footage, they had him make a final message to his father: a warning that if he didn’t keep his son in check, if he didn’t ensure this wouldn't happen again, they would make sure the entire corporate boardroom got a front-row seat to his son's depravity. Sasha encrypted the video, sending it directly to his father’s private line, making sure there’d be no escaping the fallout.

The guy was sobbing by the end of it, his body trembling with fear and humiliation. But Asuka wasn’t done. Not quite yet.

"Alright, lover boy. We got our insurance," Asuka said, her grin turning dark. "Now, for the finishing touch."

Maine cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with a grin of his own. He looked at Jackie and Asuka, and they nodded. Maine wasted no time, his massive hand grabbing the guy by the shirt and dragging him across the room. The next few minutes were a blur of fists, grunts, and whimpers. Maine, Jackie, and even Asuka got their hits in, each one reminding him exactly who he had messed with.

Once the guy was a bruised, whimpering mess on the floor, Asuka looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the figurines—those disturbingly detailed models of her, posed in all sorts of suggestive stances. She smirked, picking a them up, glancing back at Jackie.

"Hey, these are mine now," she said with a chuckle, holding up one of the figurines. "Might as well keep the souvenirs. Kinda cute, in a messed up way."

Jackie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but grin. "Of course you would. Sure, take 'em, chica."

Then there was the doll. That full-sized, uncanny doll, just standing there, leering with its blank stare. Asuka looked at it, her grin fading, replaced by something colder. "But this..." she pointed to the doll, "...this thing's gotta go."

Maine didn't need to be told twice. His arm transformed, revealing the projectile launcher embedded beneath. With a grin, he aimed it at the doll.

"Say goodnight, you creepy piece of shit," he muttered, firing.

The projectile hit the doll dead center, and in a deafening explosion, it was reduced to pieces, torn fabric and synthetic skin flying everywhere. The shockwave knocked a few of the pictures off the walls, and when the smoke cleared, all that was left was the scorched remnants.

Asuka dusted her hands, looking down at the mess, her eyes locking on the guy who was still groaning on the floor. She leaned down, her voice soft but filled with venom. "If I ever see you again, you won’t be this lucky. Got it?"

The guy, too battered to form words, just nodded weakly, tears still streaming down his face.

Jackie and Maine dragged him to the door, tossing him out onto the dirt. He lay there, coughing, as they all stood over him one last time.

"Remember, corpo brat," Jackie said, his voice low and dangerous, "stay outta Night City. And keep away from Asuka. Next time, there won’t be a 'next time.'"

With that, they turned, heading back to Falco's car. Asuka walked a few steps behind, tossing one of the figurines in the air and catching it, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Think he learned his lesson?" Sasha asked, her tone dry as she pulled her jacket tighter against the cold desert air.

"Oh, I think he got the message loud and clear," Asuka replied, her grin widening. "Besides, if he didn’t, he’ll just end up a fun target practice next time."

Maine snorted, shaking his head as they got in the car. "You got some messed up fans, chica."

Asuka shrugged, settling into the seat as Falco started the engine. "Hey, not my fault people can’t handle my charm."