Chapter 302: Poverty is a Crime

Words : 1813 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

Over 2.6 million! Is this wrong? No, it's absolutely right. A bounty is simple: whoever brings in the target's head gets paid. The kill records' format, file size, and clarity all meet the NCPD's bounty collection standards. No one else has registered for the claim, and the first discoverer wasn't the NCPD either. So, of course, the NCPD would recognize it. And if the NCPD recognized it, Jefferson had to as well. Unconvinced, he transmitted some of the data to the NCPD bounty database—only to confirm that Leo hadn't lied to him at all. The records were impeccable—some even included real-time footage of the kills. That was terrifying. Everyone knew the true cause of the recent chaos was a gang war within Maelstrom. But how the hell did Leo have so much firsthand information?! Jefferson's composure wavered. Leo simply shrugged. "This is the beauty of the tech age. Data doesn't lie. You can verify it yourself." The mayoral candidate took a deep breath, his face slightly pale. "Are you involved in this?" "No." Leo shook his head. "Want the story? That'll be another 100,000." Selling a piece of intel for 100,000—Jefferson's trembling mind fixated on one thing: So this man in front of him is the real mastermind behind the deaths of 1,073 Maelstrom members and a riot that caused millions in damages?! A thousand people dead, and Leo looked as calm as if he had just eaten a few pastries. He needed confirmation—this had to be a joke. Jefferson sat up straight, face serious, praying, Please tell me this isn't real. "Just say it," he urged. "They hijacked a Militech transport, but Militech security put on these linear frames, so the robbery was only half successful. Then that guy—" Leo pointed at the exploded head on the pillar. "He abandoned his old boss, gathered his men, and came back to overthrow him. But the other guy—the one hanging on the opposite wall—didn't die. So it turned into an all-out war. Of course, this coup had been planned for a long time. The failed job just created the perfect opportunity." "So the Centaur mechs..." Leo wagged a finger. "That intel's worth a lot more. If you want to use it, the price changes." Militech's Centaur mechs... That was what Militech had been trying to sell to the NCPD. If word got out that their advanced military tech had ended up in gang warfare, the fallout would be severe—not just for the tech's reputation, but for Militech's entire security operations. Jefferson considered. "You have the full evidence chain?" "Yep." Leo glanced at his inbox. [Sender: Meredith] [Meredith: Hold onto the evidence for me, or I might get transferred.] [Leo: Sure. Mutual benefits.] "Alright, this one's off the table." Leo tapped the desk, and it lit up with a green glow, casting an eerie light across the room. Two sets of numbers appeared: 2,683,000 100,000 "This is the first bill." Leo took a sip of his Spunky Monkey soda and waited. After about thirty seconds, Jefferson swallowed hard and nodded. Yes, he was rich—assets in the tens of millions. But pulling out 2.6 million eddies in liquid cash... That was another story. Yet, what choice did he have? If he refused to pay, he wasn't sure he'd leave this room alive. And he knew Leo wouldn't waste time arguing contract loopholes—that realization alone made his temples throb. From Leo's explanation, the whole Maelstrom civil war was a mix of inevitability and coincidence—a planned coup, a botched heist, a perfectly timed betrayal. But the story was still too convenient. How exactly did Leo rack up so many bounty kills? Was this war really just a coincidence? There were too many unanswered questions, but according to their contract, that didn't matter. What mattered was that Leo had legally earned over 500,000 in bounties, and by their agreement, Jefferson owed him 2.6 million. Way more than he had expected. But what could he do? And this was only the first bill. "The second bill..." Leo stood up, soda in hand, motioning for Jefferson to follow. "We'll discuss inside." Leo opened a door. Inside, a large group of emaciated residents sat huddled together, dressed in tattered clothing. Though weak, many had cheap black-market cyberware implanted in their bodies. Jefferson froze, and then his face twisted in anger. "Maelstrom kidnapped them?" "There's a bit of a difference." Leo led Jefferson through the room. Through the one-way glass, the people inside couldn't see them; they simply continued talking amongst themselves. Jefferson observed this as well and realized that this situation was indeed different from a simple kidnapping. "To be precise, they are customers of the Maelstrom gang," Leo revealed. "They can't afford legitimate cyberware and software, so they have to use pirated versions. And Maelstrom is the largest supplier of black market cyberware and pirated software in the city." "But pirated software and black market cyberware can cause nausea, vomiting, seizures, coma... Not to mention the dramatically increased risk of cyberpsychosis!" "If the alternative is starving to death, what choice do they have? Sure, you might find scraps in a trash can, but in this day and age, the air is toxic, and the land is owned by corporations. Sooner or later, they'd die anyway. Ask them yourself. They know the truth. Or go ahead—ask them why they don't use legitimate software. Is it really because they can't afford it?" The land was owned, meaning there was no space to grow food. The air was poisonous, and without money for blood transfusions or cyberware with filtration capabilities, death from poisoning was just a matter of time. For these ordinary people, their problems were many—but survival was the most fundamental one. The sarcasm in Leo's words was obvious, and Jefferson wasn't foolish enough to ask. But he had an argument of his own: "Why not take out loans? Just borrow enough to implant a work-grade cyberware." "No one gives loans to vagrants. To survive, you need money. To get money, you need a job. But without cyberware, you can't get a job. And without a job, you'll never have the money to buy cyberware." A vicious cycle with no way out. Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "This is exactly what I want to change. If we can collect more tax revenue from the megacorporations, we'd have the funding to solve these problems. Maelstrom's pirated software and cyberware only harm them. But you're right—it's not their fault. It's simply all they can afford." "And how exactly do you plan to fix it?" At this, Jefferson lowered his hand and spoke with confidence. "We use those funds to purchase work-grade cyberware and establish a comprehensive social evaluation and integration system. Welfare agencies would provide low-interest loans, implanting legitimate cyberware and software. Through assessments, we'd assign them to jobs that best suit their abilities. With everyone in their proper place, society would function smoothly. As long as people have jobs, incomes, and a place in society, crime won't have room to grow." "A solid idea," Leo remarked, stopping in his tracks and nodding slightly. "A well-structured plan—sounds orderly, even harmonious." Jefferson smiled. "I told you before, you should join me. We'll eliminate crime at its roots. Crime in the North District is spiraling out of control—murders, robberies, theft—it's endless. I can't even imagine what kind of hell these people are living in." Leo didn't agree or disagree but instead stated, "Speaking of crime rates—Watson North's crime rate remains high, and you need to bring it down to prevent Arasaka and Militech from establishing a stronger presence here. Maelstrom has certainly been crippled, but they were never more than a thousand strong. You say you're doing all of this for the poor citizens and homeless of Night City... But what if these crimes were committed by the very people you're trying to help?" Jefferson froze for a moment. Leo pointed at the Night City residents waiting in the room, then turned on the screen on the wall. "That so-called vicious cycle? These sharp and resourceful civilians have already found a way to break it. Even pirated cyberware and software cost money. Legal avenues didn't offer them a solution—but Maelstrom did. Their startup capital came from here." The screen lit up, displaying evidence related to over 80% of Watson North's crime cases—all collected during the Bloodstorm operation. The Aldecaldos had recovered this data from battle-scarred factories and warehouses. And the information revealed the true core of Watson North's high crime rate: The bulk of thefts, robberies, brawls, and other minor offenses weren't driven by gangs like Maelstrom, but by the desperate, abandoned outcasts of Night City. What appeared to be extreme violent crimes often started from the smallest details: A wealthy corporate employee's route home, a small transport crew's cargo manifest and travel schedule, a factory's financials, production standards, and technology... All of this information was provided—sometimes willingly, sometimes under coercion—by those same "innocent civilians." And after the dust settled, they always received some kind of compensation. For some, it was their first bit of startup money. For others, it paid for a family member's medical bills, daily meals, or even just a place to sleep. The overwhelming amount of evidence pointed to a singular truth: The primary drivers of Watson North's sky-high crime rate were not Maelstrom. It was the abandoned, desperate homeless of Night City. The very "victims" Jefferson wanted to protect... were also the very criminals he sought to eliminate. "I've already done the math for you. Watson North's crime rate was previously at 51%, with a total population of 500,000. 1,073 Maelstrom members were killed, each connected to an average of 20 crimes. Removing their influence only decreased the crime rate by 0.4 percentage points. Maelstrom has been thoroughly dismantled, Mr. Peralez. But crime won't stop here. Because gangs don't exist in a vacuum. Their true source of survival is exactly what we discussed earlier—an unsolvable cycle. Or, put simply—poverty. In this city, poverty itself is a crime. They are pitiful, yes. But they are also dangerous." Leo shrugged, his two cybernetic arms placing a few mechanical parts on a nearby table. "You say you have a plan to eliminate 'harmful' crime... But what if the criminals are the people themselves?" Leo opened the door. Seeing is believing. Jefferson watched as the door slowly swung open, and the pounding in his head grew even stronger.

Chapter 302: Poverty is a Crime

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