Think about it.
One day in the future, your old company—the one that kicked you aside, treated you like consumable material and a scapegoat—watches the now-monstrous Mackinaw Corporation bow and scrape in front of you…
You could even slap its fucking face.
A cliché revenge-and-comeback story, sure.
But nobody could refuse being the protagonist of one.
Sherman was an ambitious, risk-taking guy. Otherwise, he never would've ended up where he was today.
He was the one who proposed the Mackinaw brand plan.
He was also the one who voluntarily took on this obviously high-risk job.
His mood had fallen from heaven to hell—
And now returned to earth.
He had two choices now.
First, obediently hand over all his information, then give away all the Mackinaw concept stock in his hands to whichever corporation wanted it, just to prove he was "clean." After that, he could become an ordinary person and start over from scratch.
But his résumé was already stained badly.
At best, he could probably hang around with El Capitain.
Second, selectively cooperate, then declare on the spot that he was the real company corresponding to Mackinaw concept stock.
That's right.
Everyone knew this was concept stock. In theory, it represented Thorton's Mackinaw pickup line.
But in reality, this stock had no corresponding physical business at all.
Concept stocks did need a real company to issue them, but they were still extremely speculative products.
After the new owner—Sherman and his engineering team—was fired, this stock became a product with no actual connection to Thorton whatsoever.
Products like this usually kept circulating on the stock market for a while, but soon collapsed and disappeared with time.
And this concept stock was even more special.
It was practically tied to the achievements of the Hamburger King crew.
The more outrageous and explosive their rule-bound activities became, the greater Mackinaw's fame became—
And the higher the stock price climbed.
But now things were different.
Previously, they were a mercenary crew. Maybe there were some illegal elements, but they had employers, people greasing the right wheels, and people benefiting from their actions.
Now they were…
An independent, internationally wanted criminal gang.
Every corporation was moving.
That subtle shift in identity would also subtly change the nature of this stock.
And subtle changes could accumulate into an avalanche collapse.
For example, if any corporation dumped these 18 billion eurodollars' worth of stock right now, then this stock—and the Mackinaw brand that had caused a craze this year—would suffer a devastating blow.
Of course, the first one to dump could still make a quick hundred billion or so—
Harvesting some brainless leeks.
"…Then, regarding the Night City criminal organization…"
Susan paused.
"…Hamburger King Sells Out Dumbass Big Shots. Are you certain this is all the intelligence you have?"
Even someone as experienced as Susan instinctively stalled when reading that name.
Especially when she remembered that someone using such a brain-dead name had pulled off such vicious, brutal work.
Sherman nodded with ease.
"That's all. A lot of the tech in that vehicle was handmade by them."
The people listening to this conversation were not limited to Susan, who openly represented Militech.
NetWatch, Arasaka, NCPD, and other corporations interested in the matter were all secretly listening too.
Hearing that, they all had similar thoughts:
Haha.
Handmade.
If anyone else said that, they would have arrested Sherman on the spot.
You dare treat corporations like idiots?
Let him taste interrogation.
But if it was Leo—
It was somehow perfectly reasonable.
After all, he had practically pulled weapons-grade uranium fuel out of his pocket like a magic trick, then slapped together a nuclear battery.
The whole thing was sudden and absurd.
Sherman cooperated quite thoroughly.
He handed over every supply chain, resource, and technology Thorton had allocated to that special Mackinaw branch.
Militech judged whether he was hiding anything mainly by checking the supply chain.
From that perspective, what had been shipped into Night City were either finished engines, semi-finished integrated electric-control platforms, or special-process components.
There was little room for major manipulation.
And all of these supply-chain processes happened inside New America.
Which meant they happened inside Militech's jurisdiction.
Checking them was extremely fast.
[Songbird: No problematic segments found.]
The answer was surprising.
All of Thorton's procedures complied with New American law.
There was almost no abnormal trace whatsoever.
They could barely even find a starting point for a deeper investigation.
In other words, excluding the Hamburger King criminal gang's production bases hidden somewhere in Night City, if they only looked at the Thorton and Mackinaw side of things…
There was nothing to criticize.
Fuck.
So the "handmade" thing had been foreshadowed all along.
They had simply been kept in the dark, believing Mackinaw Corporation had somehow produced something absurd.
Susan closed her eyes briefly, exiting the comparison data Songbird had provided, then went straight to the point:
"Then let's discuss the second matter. Regarding Mackinaw concept stock—"
"What about it? Now you're interested in my personal assets?"
Sherman acted like a miser.
Mackinaw concept stock was currently worth 50 billion.
The nuclear incident had caused some fluctuation, but as long as the foundation did not collapse, an avalanche was unlikely.
Not to mention, the stock market still contained plenty of illegal funds from illegal groups.
Some people did not consider nuclear explosions a major problem.
Unless the foundation started dumping.
Sherman held stock worth 18 billion eurodollars.
Even to megacorps, that number was a very sweet dessert.
If they could take it, they had no reason not to.
Although Thorton had said they could give it to Militech, they had actually already transferred the stock to Sherman.
Their thinking was:
Sherman couldn't possibly cling to this burning-hot potato, right?
Unexpectedly, beyond everyone's expectations—
He really did cling to it.
The separation between Thorton and Mackinaw concept stock was no secret to megacorps.
So Susan was surprised.
Was this guy suicidal?
If he obediently handed the assets over, he would become a penniless nobody.
Granted, he would have nothing left, but he would regain corporate trust:
Trust that he truly had no deep relationship with the Hamburger King.
And that his attitude was properly repentant.
But if he refused to let go of that much money, things became harder to say.
Even if the corporations found no clues now, they would keep watching him.
And Sherman, before meeting Susan, had been psyching himself up.
Feeling Susan's gaze stab into him like a blade, his pressure spiked.
So he felt he had to say something.
"I know what you're thinking. Say whatever you want. Say I'm overestimating myself. Say I'm asking to die. Say my brain got eaten by zombies. But I—
I love this money. I fucking love this money!
Thorton fired me, so I'll start my own company. That's why I won't dispose of this stock. Understand?
The Mackinaw is the best fucking vehicle there is! I'm starting my own company!!!"
Sherman's voice roared loudly.
At first, he had wanted to shape himself as calm and determined.
But as he spoke, he completely lost control.
There were only two people in the room:
Him.
And Susan, that terrifying humanoid weapon.
Susan Forrester was a socially accepted "positive figure."
A special operations commander under the New American Federal Department of Justice.
The infamous "Federal Executioner" of North America.
A living legendary solo representing Militech.
In Night City, everyone feared Arasaka Tower's bodyguard, Adam Smasher.
Being alone in a room with Susan carried pressure no less intense than facing that murderous lunatic.
To say he wasn't scared would be a lie.
Without his cyberware, Sherman could not control his emotions at all.
By the end, he was outright shouting.
In the blink of an eye after he finished roaring, he suddenly felt something cold against his forehead.
A pistol was pressed to his head.
Militech M-76e Omaha.
A powerful tech weapon.
It did not fire ordinary bullets, but solid metal flechettes.
At this distance, one shot could blow his head apart.
It was too late to regret.
Sherman felt the words jam inside his throat.
He had only wanted to invest honestly in a mercenary crew, bask a little in the glow of Night City's underground king.
How had things turned into this?
He remembered what the Hamburger King had just told him.
He remembered those three lunatics who never cared about consequences—
The same lunatics who had pushed him into this position.
The answer was what Leo had just said:
He had always wanted an opportunity.
The higher people climbed, the more concerns they had.
Because they feared losing what they had.
Regretted losing what they had.
Dreaded losing what they had.
Because he had clearly seen everything going according to plan.
Seen the big shot he'd attached himself to win the race.
Seen the harvest within reach.
Only for that big shot to suddenly decide to become a supercriminal, making Sherman himself a target for everyone.
That contrast had numbed him.
Disappointed him.
Made him slightly unwilling to keep trying.
Hamburger King reminded him:
There was still a chance to win big.
18 billion eurodollars.
What corpo dog could earn that kind of money?
Everyone in this world lived hard lives.
A startup needed some fucking drive.
His head was hot.
His emotions were unstable.
But his thoughts were becoming clear.
Sherman leaned his head forward and pressed against Susan's gun.
He wanted to push the gun backward, but he couldn't move it at all.
Susan's arm was steady as steel.
Sherman felt like the skin of his forehead was sinking into the barrel.
"Mackinaw concept stock has already been separated from Thorton. I've submitted the relevant information to the European Bank and European securities agencies to register a physical company, and in the future I will inject these concept stocks into that company.
Its name is Mackinaw General Vehicle Manufacturing Company. A company with a market value of 50 billion. Maybe it can't compare to a multinational like Militech, but it isn't some little workshop you can casually pinch either.
If you shoot me dead now, the funds will transfer to the next person. At that point, the money won't be used to start a company anymore.
The next person will use that money to hire Arasaka. They'll be very happy to take that cash and cause trouble for you.
They're listening. You should know that. They definitely hope you shoot me dead right now."
Crushing him was nothing to Militech.
Just crushing a bug.
But letting a competitor suddenly gain tens of billions in capital?
That would be a bloody loss.
Especially when there really was no evidence proving Mackinaw had anything to do with the nuclear weapon or those… advanced, possibly illegal technologies.
Sherman grabbed the barrel, swallowed, and twisted his expression into something ferocious.
"Come on. Shoot me."
Susan suddenly pulled the gun away, turned, and left.
Before leaving, she dropped one sentence:
"Lunatic."
Sherman fell face-first like a dog eating shit, smashing his cheek painfully into the table.
But although his face was stuck against the tabletop—
He was smiling.
A complicated smile.
But a damn satisfying one.
[El Capitain: Damn. You've got guts, brother. Not a bad press conference. Pretty damn impressive too.]
Who knew how many megacorps had been watching?
Watching this lunatic's monologue.
It really was like a press conference.
Although the public had no time to know yet, many of the highest-level corporations had been listening to the conversation in that room.
Granted, none of the companies attending this "conference" took Sherman's Mackinaw General Vehicle Manufacturing Company seriously.
"Fuck…
One day I'm gonna ram all of you dead. Every last one of you."