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Lex walked down the street, the news article clutched in her hand. Some little nameless, faceless scum had dared to thrash her rep in the city. One way or another she would put him down.
‘White Knight Underground!’
It was a catchy title, but catchy or not, it was a brand. A brand she didn’t ask for or need. She was a face in Night City, a somebody and now… Now she was back to being owned, a commodity that could be bought or sold, traded between corporations for invisible favours.
Lex walked into Crossroads, her local and sat down. Mac, the bartender, sidled up and put a Nomad Special in front of her before she had to ask. She uncrumpled the page again and re-read the damning article.
A whisper caught her attention, she only caught a few words but it was enough to tempt her already frayed temper.
“Worthless … corporate whore …”
Lex slid back her chair, drawing herself up to her full six foot six height. She walked over to the muttering conversationalist and looking him directly in the eye.
“I might be a corporate whore, but sweetheart… No one in the world would pay a bent bottle cap for your ass! Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t sell your soul if one of the corps offered you a sweet deal. Problem is, they never will. You have nothing they need… Unfortunately, they never asked me! I never got the choice to turn them down.”
The man looked shaken, either from her words or just from looking into her hard black lenses. Lex didn’t care which.
Dropping a credchip on the bar, she nodded to Mac.
“Didn’t want any trouble, Mac. Sorry!”
The bartender nodded back as she walked out of the bar thinking to herself that trouble hadn’t really started yet. Maybe they would live to regret this turn of events, though probably not if Arasaka got their way!