

Gibbon P. Williams arrived at his own professional execution seventeen minutes late.
He came through the doors of the Night City Bar Association hearing chamber in a charcoal suit, gold tie, crocodile-pattern briefcase and enough confidence to suggest that everyone else had accidentally assembled for someone else’s disbarment.
“They’ve been trying to hunt me for twenty years,” he said. “But there’s one thing everybody in this city ought to understand: when you walk into the legal jungle, you don’t hunt Gibbon P. Williams. Gibbon P. Williams hunts you.”
Then he entered the chamber where, six days later, his career would end.
The Night City Bar Association voted yesterday to revoke Williams’ license to practice law after finding that the veteran criminal attorney committed professional misconduct during and surrounding his representation of the criminal crew known as the Nice Guys.
His firm, Gibbon & Associates, will pass to longtime associate Count Orlok, an attorney distinguished by immaculate black suits, unusually pale skin, archaic speech patterns, and aversion to sunlight.
“I am an attorney.” Orlok stated to press.
The Clients Nobody Wants to Remember
The Nice Guys are Night City ghost stories. Things you warn your friends to avoid when leaving a building drunk.
… And then there was the Dreg.
Night City Today requested from NCPD a summarized criminal history for the Dreg. Three days later, an officer familiar with the request asked this newspaper, “How summarized?” There is no useful answer.
The Dreg’s suspected offenses encompassed virtually every recognizable category of conventional street crime short of first-degree murder before eventually progressing well beyond conventional street crime altogether. Among the better-documented incidents was his practice of providing fully automatic weapons to homeless residents, apparently for entertainment.
One former investigator summarized the Dreg more efficiently. “He was a cereal rapist who raped cereals. He was also a serial rapist, who raped people!” A man who wishes to remain unknown would say.
The Dreg Takes the Stand. Almost.
The prosecution’s strangest witness arrived on the fifth day. His name was Miles Kessler. He is not a detective, a psychiatrist, or a former member of the Nice Guys. Kessler maintains industrial refrigeration systems. In his spare time, he pretends to be the Dreg.
“You’re the Dreg?” Williams asked.
“….”
“You dress as the Dreg?”
“…..”
“So yes.”
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way.”
“So after three years you’re still not willing to commit to the role.”
“You Needed a Body”
“Everybody wants an animal until it bites somebody,” Williams told the panel.
“I knew Rossoni was a lunatic. I knew Denal was dangerous. I knew the XXXXXX was trouble. Didn’t really care for the XXXXX, he was chill. You think criminal lawyers only represent choir boys?”
“And deep in the legal jungle they found one old gorilla with his name on the paperwork.”
“So ask yourself, pal. Who exactly did you catch?”
Gibbon & Associates Has a New Owner
Under the firm’s succession agreement, control of the practice now passes to Count Orlok, Williams’ longtime assistant attorney and the only other lawyer whose name appears consistently throughout the firm’s active files.
Orlok confirmed the transition in a brief statement. “Mr. Williams’ inability to practice will not impede our representation of existing clients,” he said. “The firm shall endure.”
Asked whether the firm’s name would change, he said it probably would.