CHAPTER 1

Ah, Night City. A cesspool filled with all matters of degenerates, criminals, addicts, psychos, and all sorts of individuals that dwell in humanity's ultimate sins. While the poor and depraved linger and thrive within the depths of Night Cities streets, Corpo's thrive with riches and power, deciding the factors of human lives and profiting off others' misfortunes like a vulture to a decaying corpse. Yet, despite the chrome addicts and Arisaka corporate gold diggers, a few rays of sunshine break through the thick smog of despair that overlooks our lives. Those moments change our lives for the better or maybe worse. In particular, I had one of those moments, but like others, I had no idea what it had in store.

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I groaned, my consciousness slowly arousing from its slumber; I shifted within the confines of my bed, the sheets falling off my frame as I rolled over, my bare feet touching the cold flooring of my apartment as I groggily pushed myself to my feet. I stretched my arms upwards as I balanced on my toes. My joints popped and groaned, and I released a groan of satisfaction; my body shivered in response as I made my way across my apartment and toward the sofa. I lazily dropped onto the mattresses of the couch and planted my face in its leathered embrace. I groaned again, my ears faintly picking up the sounds of the bustling city outside my window as I blindly reached out to grab hold of the remote resting on the floor.

I gave off a muffled cheer within the couch's confines and pressed the power button on the remote to the holographic screen that floated against the wall.

"Good Morning Night City, it's a beautiful day out here in our lovely city, and we will like to start the day off with an announcement."

I turned my head, my face peeling off the leather as I glanced at the floating screen with interest. On the screen, a man with a million-dollar smile, and colorful pomade hair, was staring at the camera intently as he spoke.

"In recent news, a high level of cyber psychosis has emerged around the city, and officials are worried that things could get out of hand. Just recently, a man named James Francis, a retired Colonel of the United States Armed Forces."

As the man continued to go on about the bloodbath of about a dozen officers, I heard my door struck by an angry-sounding man.

"Oui! Your rent is up, Quinn! Open the fucking door and give me the eddies!"

(Shit.)

"If you don't, I'll evict you by tomorrow morning!"

Groaning, I stood up, my bare feet hitting the floor as I walked toward my door. Leaning against the nearby wall, I pressed the button and watched as my door slid open. Standing before me was a plump man bearing a stained wife-beater and a mop of greasy brown hair. He gave me a smug smile, his stained teeth causing me to grimace as he raised a pudgy hand.

"Rents due, Quinn."

I stared at the outstretched appendage and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought the rent wasn't due till next week?"

The man snarled, his putrid breath assaulting my nostrils, causing me to wrinkle them as he growled, "Don't fuck with me, choom! You pulled that shit last week, but I fucking remembered!" He jabbed his pudgy finger in my chest as he ranted, "I missed a whole week's worth of eddies because of you, and if I don't get my money, I will get Big Dave here to wring it from your cold corpse!" I frowned at his words and slapped his hand away, giving him a glare, which caused the overweight man to flinch briefly. I growled, "Fuck off, I don't have the time nor patience to deal with your diabetic pudge of an existence; if you're looking for any money from me, you would have better luck selling some of your lard to the local restaurants, I bet you would make a good few eddies." The man fumed, his face turning a deep shade of red, as his entire being shook with rage.

"You," He seethed, his eyes turning bloodshot as he venomously said, "Fuck the time frame. I'm calling Dave now!" When I noticed the distinct orange glow within his eyes, I sighed, and with careful consideration, I reared my right arm back and delivered a solid right hook across the man's oily cheek. The fat walrus of a man comically flew across the hallway, slamming with a squeal against the wall. I turned away from the wailing lard, who thrashed around on the ground, holding his cheek as he continued to half scream and half cry to the person over the holo call. Once I passed the threshold, my door closed behind me and locked in place. As the landlord outside screamed, I made my way through the apartment, traversing the kitchen island and to the fridge. I yanked the door open, getting a blast of chilling air before inspecting the contents.

(Ahh, there you are!)

I gleefully reached within the confines of the fridge before my fingers wrapped around the leftover Chinese I had from last night. Giddy, I trotted over to my microwave, like an overgrown child, before opening it and stuffing the box of Chinese inside. After I set the timer for a 'good' amount of time, I decided to disembark from the kitchen before making my way towards my fortress of solitude, my bed. Instead of having a separate room, most of everything is one ample space, such as the kitchen, bathroom, and living room. I landed on the soft mattress with a grunt, taking a brief moment to enjoy its soft embrace before crawling over and reaching towards a 1980s Nokia.

Well, a more modified version of a Nokia.

It had the dials and numbers but with a built-in holo screen.

I flipped the screen upwards and started punching in numbers. When the screen lit up with a chibi-looking version of a gray wolf with blue eyes, it rang for a few seconds before the screen switched to a middle-aged man. His hair was a stark white, slicked back, with remnants of gray mixed. He had a stern face with kind gray eyes and small lines of silver cybernetics running across his cheeks. I smiled, which caused the older man to smile in return.

"How are you, Quinn?" He said, his voice deep and hoarse from age.

"I'm good, John," I replied, readjusting to sit back against the wall, my legs crossing together as I continued, "Fucking landlord is hounding my ass again; he says he wants the pay for the week." John's smile vanished as a frown settled upon his white brow, "Do you need assistance?" I felt my smile grow warmer as I replied, "Don't worry about it, old-timer. I can handle a few gonks, and we both know I don't go down so quickly." John huffed, his smile returning as he reached offscreen and retrieved a lit cigarette. He took a deep drawl of the death stick before releasing a plum of white smoke with an exhale. "Those can kill you, ya know." John grunted, "I'm your senior; you should learn to respect my intentions and decisions."

"Screw ya, geezer."

"Piss off, brat."

A beep from my microwave drew my attention. I peered at the steaming cup of Chinese noodles within the microwave window before returning my attention to John. "Alright, I gotta go." John blew out another plume of smoke before saying, "Okay, stay safe, and can me when you get a chance." I snickered, "See ya, you fossil." John guffawed before shooting back, "Fuck off, ya little shit!" I ended the call, my screen returning to the small wolf now resting, small Z's floating above his frame. I closed the holo screen and got up from my bed, my bare feet crossing the cold floor as I made it to the microwave. A loud object hit my door when I opened the door and retrieved my steaming cup of noodles. Blinking, I glanced over to see a fist-like indention protruding from the metal frame. I frowned, reaching toward a drawer beside the microwave to retrieve a fork.

I stabbed the utensil within the noodles, giving it a twirl as another fist struck them, leaving behind another indention. I pulled my fork out, along with some noodles, and blew; after a few breaths, I carried the noodles to my mouth and took a bite. I groaned from the delicious, yet synthetic, noodles. Another fist struck the door, causing the frame to bend inwards. I swallowed my noodles, my fork reaching back into the cup to fetch some more. A loud yell echoed behind the door before the door was caved inward and flew across my living room. It struck the window with a bang, the glass cracking under the metal before it slid down and fell onto my couch. I felt myself frowning, looking at the broken window before I redirected it to the doorway.

A large man of Hispanic ethnicity walked in. Standing at least six feet tall, he had a white wife-beater, exposing golden cybernetic tree-trunk size arms. He had a scared face, his hair shaved to a military cut, and a golden chain wrapped around his thick neck. The man had a bruise across his cheek, and his eyes swelled black as he gazed at me with sadistic glee. He snarled, his red cyber eyes locking onto me, as he growled out, "Are you Quinn?" I remained silent, my mouth full of noodles, as I watched the landlord wobble in.

"That's him, Dave! That's the fucker who didn't pay rent and punched me!" Dave, the large man, growled in response, his red eyes fixated on me as he smashed his golden fist together, giving off a metallic clang. "Nothing personal, kid," He said, his scared lips forming into a malicious smile, "I promise I will enjoy this." Dave walked around the island, his massive frame towering over me, as he reached down to grasp the front of my t-shirt. I swallowed the noodles before placing them on the counter, my fork still within grasp. I ate the noodles before placing them on the counter, my four-pronged utensil still within grasp.

"Grit your teeth, boy."

He reared a golden arm back, his metal fist screeching.

Then with a grunt, he swung his arms towards my face.

I leaned my head to the side, his massive arm and fist flying past my head. I formed a fist in my left hand, my arm swinging underneath Dave's arm before gently scraping past his chin. Dave blinked, his eyes staring at me with confusion before his smile grew vicious, a maniacal shine in his red eyes. "Really," he laughed, his arm rearing back to punch me again, "Is that…." He froze, the hand gripping my shirt going slack, eyes shaking wildly within their sockets. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he crumpled to the ground, his heavy body causing the ground to vibrate slightly. As I stared at the unconscious Dave, a sound drew my attention toward the door. The landlord stood in the doorway, a Nue pistol in his grasp, the barrel pointed towards me.

"I've had enough of your shit!" The man growled, spit flying from his lips as he growled, "Fucking Dave couldn't even kill you, worthless waste of money!" His grip on the pistol tightened as a murderous look appeared on his face. "That means I'm just going to have to kill you and grab the eddies from your cold dead cor-!" I threw the fork, my aim going true, as the metal prongs embedded into the landlord's left eye. He blinked in confusion before his remaining eye widened, and a pig-like scream erupted from his mouth.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

I frowned at the noise as I walked towards the landlord, his pistol lying a few feet away from me when he dropped it to grasp the fork's handle. As the man continued to wail and scream, I gently grabbed the pistol, my fingers wrapping around the grip, before lifting it to inspect it. For a sleazy good-for-nothin man, he sure had good taste. I pulled back on the slide halfway, a brass bullet peeking from within the chamber as I released the slide. Ejecting the magazine, I checked the ammo count; happy that it was packed, I slammed the magazine back into the pistol before looking down at the landlord. His face was pale with pain, snot dribbled from his nose, and giant globs of tears cascaded down his fat cheeks, one side dyed red. I raised the pistol, my barrel aimed at the man's head, as he frantically threw a hand up, his remaining eye wide with terror.

"W-Wait! Don't kill me!"

I raised an eyebrow.

"I-I can give you free rent! H-Hey, how d-does three months sound?!"

I remained silent, which made the man even paler.

"Y-Yeah! Three is too low; how about a year!"

"No." I said, my answer causing the landlord to tremble in fear physically, "I want free rent indefinitely." Red swiftly returned to the man's face, and all thoughts of fear seemed to vanish from the man's face as he seethed, "Forever? No! Think of something else-!" I moved my hand slightly to the right, my finger squeezing the trigger. There was a flash followed by a squeal of surprise from the landlord as the smell of gunpowder quickly filled my nostrils. I glanced behind the landlord to see a small smoking hole near the edge of the doorway. I turned back to the man shaking uncontrollably and smiled at him.

"What did you say?"

The landlord fearfully nodded, a terrified smile on his lips.

"S-Sure…"

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Night City, if you overlook the dirtiness and the occasional junkie or dead body, you can almost see the faint beauty of it. Towering buildings, flying cars, bullet trains, and dozens of billboards with commercials and ads created myriad colors. I turned away from a billboard featuring stuff about BDs (Brain Dances) and turned my head to peer at a gray reflective windowed wall. Besides the occasional passerby, I sorely focused on my visage. Standing around six-four, I had a curly mop of dirty blonde hair placed underneath a black hat, small curls poking out from occasional spots. My eyes gravitated to my face. Blue eyes, slim jawline, slightly angled nose, high cheekbones, wide neck, and a scar that ran across the corner of my right eyebrow, the hair no longer able to grow over the healed skin. I glanced away from my face before redirecting it to my attire for the day.

It wasn't imposing, a red sweatshirt, blue jeans, wallet, phone, and a pair of brown hiking boots. I smiled at my appearance, my hand reaching up to tuck my sweatshirt strings into my neckline as I turned away from my reflection and continued to the front entrance of my apartment complex. Instantly, I found myself walking through a maze of vendors. From food vendors to t-shirts, dozens of voices seemed to mingle in the cacophony of city life. I sidestepped a man on a holo-call and continued, my steps leading me to a pair of marble staircases. A vibration erupted from within my jean pocket as I descended the steps.

I fished out my phone, flipped open the screen, and gazed at the name.

Mama Welles.

I smiled as I answered the call; a middle-aged Hispanic woman appeared on the screen. She smiled upon seeing me, her blue-colored eyes holding a never-ending warmth as she spoke, "Buenos Dias {Good Morning}, Quinn."

I replied, "Buenos Dias {Good Morning}, Mamma Welles."

"Have you eaten already?"

"Si {Yes}, I just had some leftover noodles from yesterday."

Mamma huffed, her brows turning downward as she spoke, "Dios Mio {My God}, you know that none of that food is good for your salud {health}." I chuckled back, "Don't worry, it was only for today, I had to have something to eat, and it was the only stuff I had in the fridge." Welles's frown vanished as she chuckled and said, "Bien {Fine}, but at least come by later for comida."

"Sure," I replied, my steps reaching the end of the staircase as I muttered, "Nos vemos mas tarde, Mamma {See ya later, Mamma}." Welles's smile grew as she replied, "Nos vemos, Quinn {See ya, Quinn." Sighing, I stretched my arms over my head, electing a sigh of satisfaction as my joints cracked before I dropped them back to my sides. I ended the call, flicked the screen shut, and placed my phone back in my pocket. I finished the call, flicked the screen closed, and put my phone back in my pocket. Sighing, I walked on, my feet carrying me onto the sidewalk. I was shuffling along aimlessly, my destination nowhere, and my intentions null. In a relatively large city, the things to do around here are minimal, or in the life of someone who lived here, they have either already practically done once or countless times till it becomes repetitive.

I placed my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt, my thumb rubbing the side of my index finger in thought. In the distance, my ears picked up the sound of gunfire, but I ignored it, along with the dozens of others around me. It silenced quickly after, the shooter's fate unknown and uncared for as everyone went about their business. A flashing of red and blue drew my attention, and I found myself gazing at a pair of NCPD patrol cruisers. Their lights were on, and hologram barriers were placed around as officers wearing tactical gear guarded the entrance to an apartment building. I turned away from the scene and continued onward; a pair of stretchers briefly emerged from the building, and the white sheets died red. No one commented, and no one even flinched at sight.

Stuff like that is a daily occurrence.

Everyone is somewhat immune to death, either through personal or accidental experience. Good people are rare and rarer when you have the barrel of a gun pushed against the back of your head. To survive, you must learn the ins and outs of how the world works. Once someone gets a taste of impending doom, tunes change quickly, and people would do anything to get another chance at life. Anything can happen, from betrayal to assassination and even to fucking collateral damage. In a way, Night City is Death's ultimate playground, her sweet paradise of ripe souls for the taking. You must ensure Lady Luck can postpone your due time a little longer.

(Unless you're like me, that is?)

I'm not someone who follows the rules.

"I want those eddies, shithead!"

"I-I don't have any-!"

The sound of metal hitting flesh drew me to a basketball court overgrown with vines and vegetation. In the center of the court were a couple of wannabe-looking thugs; their clothes were colorful and had eccentric designs and decals stitched into their fibers. One of them, a tall man with a red mohawk and black cybernetic eyes, was holding up a lean-looking man by the collar of his suit. His clothes were scuffed up, and he was sporting a large gash on the side of his head. A flash of metal drew my attention, and I watched as Mohawk brandished a gleaming brand-new Nue pistol in the air.

"You want me to put a new hole in ya, huh!"

"P-Please, sir, I don't want to die!"

"Then give me your fucking eddies before I take them from your corpse!"

I sighed, my feet taking me toward the three thugs and the crying man. As I passed by the front entrance, one of the thugs, a short fellow sporting a blue bowl cut, raised an eyebrow at my appearance. He elbowed the other man, a teenager with a shaved head and a pair of brass casings for earrings. The teenager gazed over at me, his lips pulling back into a vicious grin, his teeth all plated gold in chrome. He tapped the Mohawk's shoulder, causing him to glance back at the teen with a frown. When he motioned towards me with a metal finger, the mohawk man glanced at me before his frown disappeared into a smirk.

"Well, lookie here," He said, walking towards me with the suited man in his grasp, the man trying his best to struggle out of mohawks clutches. Mohawk stopped a few feet from me, his smirk turning malicious as he aimed the Nue pistol in my direction. "It seems to me, boys, that we have a hero of some sort." His words earned a few laughs from the other two thugs as the suited man looked over at me, a pleading look in his eyes. I ignored both and focused on the gun aimed in my direction. He turned the gun to the side, trying to make himself look threatening as he growled out, "How about it, Mr. Hero, do you have the guts to save this poor excuse of a waste of space?" He said, throwing the suited man forward, a painful whimper escaping the man's lips as he clutched at the gash on the side of his head. I briefly glanced at him before redirecting my attention back to a mohawk.

"Wait, let's make this easier for ya," He said, his eyes never leaving me as he slowly aimed toward the suited man on the ground. "You have three seconds to save this man's life before I pull the trigger." I remained silent, my eyes still sorely focused on the gun as the man went off, "One." I moved forward; I reached the down man as Mohawk drawled out, "Two." Yet, I walked past the suited man, my feet taking me toward Mohawk as he narrowed his eyes. He drew the pistol away from teh downed man and instead pointed it toward my head.

"Three."

Time seemed to slow around me, and a flash of light erupted from the pistol. A plum of flame exited, followed by a bronze bullet that spun slowly within the air. I reached into the waistband of my jeans, my palm grasping the handle of the landlord's pistol from this morning, as my eyes remained on the approaching bullet. I leaned slightly to the right, my eyes looking away from the approaching object and instead to the frozen smirk on Mohawk's face. I swung my arm upwards, my finger already finding the trigger of the Nue pistol within my grasp, as a bullet whizzed softly past my ear. The time around us seemed to pick back up speed, and the look on Mohawk's face changed from a smirk to a face full of disbelief and despair. I flexed my wrist, keeping my aim accurate, giving the trigger a long squeeze. The gun barely moved within my grasp as I watched the front of Mohawk's pistol erupt in parts, a startled yelp escaping his lips as he dropped his pistol on the ground.

Time renewed, and two gunshots echoed in the space around us. Mohawk stumbled back, his feet tripping over vegetation as he fell on his rear.

He stared at me in shock, his entire body shaking, as the two goons behind him backed away from their fallen comrade. I pulled my head back, peering behind me to see the suited man staring at me with wide eyes. "H-How?" I turned back to Mohawk, he was staring at the pistol that lay at his feet, but I knew he was talking to me.

"Practice," I said, my eyes immediately snapping toward the short man. He froze, his hand halfway hidden in his green coat. I raised my pistol at him, my head shaking back and forth, which caused the man to remove his hand from his jacket. He had a sheepish smile as he backed up along with the teen. "Now," I said, keeping the short man within my peripheral as I peered over at Mohawk, "Get fucking lost." Mohawk stumbled to his feet, his eyes briefly glancing at me, fear still held within them, before he turned away, practically running away, followed by his two goons. Once they exited the basketball court and vanished around the corner of an abandoned building, I turned back to the suited man, only to see him gone.

(A thank you would have been fine.)

Sighing, I placed my pistol back into my jeans' waistband.

Ding.

I froze, my eyes gravitating to the space to my left.

To others, it would appear to be nothing but space, except for me.

I've had the misfortune of being picked for something supernatural beyond human understanding. A gift is given to me by a dominant being of unfathomable power.

CYBERPUNK SYSTEM 1.0

Successfully Integrated to User!

GAMER SYSTEM 1.0

Successfully Integrated to User!

SIMS SYSTEM 1.0

Successfully Integrated to User!

WARNING! TOO MANY SYSTEMS INTEGRATED INTO THE USER! WARNING! BEGINING 5-HOUR SLEEP STATUS TO INTEGRATE ALL SYSTEMS INTO THE USER! SYSTEMS WILL TAKE TEMPORARY CONTROL FROM THE USER!

Before my mind fully comprehended what I saw, darkness quickly overtook my consciousness.

(A/N: Maybe I will make more chapters this time, unlike my other fanfics. ;]