Chapter 25

The car brought me to an apartment block in Northside. Stepping out, I felt like just another face in the crowd. An old stretched-out T-shirt with a boxing club logo, jeans hanging from a worn belt, a light-brown jacket that had seen better days, and a face to match after a long, brutal surgery. Shadows under my eyes, hollowed-out look. All the corpo polish drained out, leaked away with the blood on wet asphalt in that alley where Miriam sliced me up.

"Hey, choom, got a smoke?"

Some punk from the streets called out by the door.

"Sure," I said calmly, extending an open pack with my new hand.

The black fingers of my cyberlimb poked out from the long sleeve of my jacket. It was obvious the prosthetic was new, but you couldn't really guess how much it cost.

"New? Nova." the punk nodded, taking a cigarette from the pack I offered, then headed back to his buddies.

Not long ago, guys like him would've either avoided me or tried to mess with me. Well, welcome to Night City. From the corp tower to the streets of legends.

I entered the building, which looked like a thousand others, got to the right floor, and rang the doorbell.

After a few seconds, the door opened, and there stood Rebecca, in what looked like a mix of lingerie and swimwear, holding a pistol.

"What's up, choom?" she asked, surprisingly friendly, though she kept the gun aimed at me.

I took it in stride and answered her question with a question.

"Don't recognize me?"

"Oh… it's you!" Her face lit up as she motioned me in with the gun. "Come on in."

Following Rebecca, I ended up in a cluttered, smoke-filled apartment that actually felt kinda cozy after the hellhole at Okamura's place.

"You're V, right? That's your name?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds cool. Short and sweet. Is it like a Chinese name or something?"

I didn't get to answer fully, since we walked into a room where Lucy was lounging on the couch, and Falco was smoking by the window. A corp guy crashing a party with cyberpunks? Funny sight. But I hadn't been corp for over three days now. Fired. Accounts frozen, Trauma insurance canceled.

"Nice to meet face-to-face," said the ex-nomad, standing up and reaching out for a handshake.

"Likewise. Thanks for the shot."

"No big deal. I'm glad the stuff I learned as a kid came in handy. Feels good to be useful to someone."

"Upgraded, huh, V?" asked Lucy as I sat down next to her on the couch.

"Yeah. Still getting used to it. I'll need to put a frame in my shoulders, too. Otherwise, the arm's too strong for my bones."

"Ooh! Show me the arm!" Rebecca chirped, noticing the prosthetic.

She slid in between me and Lucy, not hesitating to lift my sleeve and inspect it.

"Easier if I take off the jacket," I said.

I had to stand up again to pull off my brown leather jacket.

"How much did it run you?" Lucy asked, folding her legs under her to give Rebecca some room.

"Twenty-seven."

"For both arms?" Rebecca asked. "When's the other one going in?"

"Nope. Just the one."

Rebecca made an appreciative noise, probably impressed, and started prodding the cyberarm like she was trying to take it apart. The sensation was strange. Nearly the entire prosthetic had tactile sensitivity, so every touch fired off my nerves. My brain couldn't figure out if someone was touching me… or not quite me. When I closed my eyes, the cyberlimb felt like a part of my body. But looking at it, I saw nothing but tech—black alloy, synthetic muscles, silver etched lines, and the Kendachi logo. It was weird.

I glanced at Lucy. Didn't seem like she minded another girl treating me like her personal toy—even if it was just the prosthetic. She looked totally chill, sipping some cocktail.

"Becca, you're making him uncomfortable," Falco said.

"What's in it?" Rebecca asked, ignoring him.

"Blades and a needle. Haven't learned to deploy them yet. First serious chrome I've got."

"Your most serious chrome's your deck," Lucy countered. "You've got a fourth-gen Rippler. That's a powerhouse."

"Why this arm, though?" Falco asked. "Design's… unique."

"It's made for fencing," I explained. "Meant for close combat, though it shoots decently too. Ideally, I'd be dual-wielding. Remember that Tiger Claw guy at the Kurosaki Studio—the one with two pistols and a Sandevistan?" I asked Rebecca.

"Uh, nope, choom," she smiled sheepishly, finishing her inspection of my arm. "When I'm shooting, I don't always notice stuff. We took 'em all down—that's what counts," she winked, flopping back on the couch.

"That Tiger Claw had a smartgun in his right hand with a smartlink and a regular one in the left," I said, stretching my arms like I was dual-wielding. "It's a nice setup. Aim manually with the left, let the smartlink target with the right."

"Then why an arm for melee?" Falco asked. "Planning to throw knives?"

"I'd like to learn to handle a katana or some other blade for close combat. No way I'm turning into some roided chrome monster. My edge will have to be speed, reaction, and stealth. Once the arm heals, training starts."

I walked over to the table, carefully grabbed a beer bottle from an ice bucket. The black artificial fingers could even feel the cold, though it wasn't like real skin. A nervous twitch tickled near my left collarbone. Guess my body wasn't fully used to it yet. I might need to disconnect the arm by nightfall to avoid nerve strain. But that's just part of getting used to it. Honestly, I'm handling the surgery better than expected. Maybe it's the lack of job pressure or using specific skills.

Instead of the couch, I sat on a tall bar stool, giving me a clear view of everyone in the room.

"So, maybe this isn't the best time to ask…" Falco started hesitantly. "But what are your plans, V? Staying in the city or heading out?"

"Heading out!" Rebecca frowned. "What kinda shit you talking, old man?"

"Well… someone did try to kill him," the former nomad pointed out. "And not just anyone—a loaded merc and an Arasaka suit."

"I knew them both," I said, chuckling darkly.

"Night City's a good place to lay low," Lucy added.

Didn't seem like she wanted me to leave. She hadn't even suggested a one-way trip to the moon.

"Right. Plus, not sure if anyone's actually hunting me. You all know I used to be corp, right?"

"Yeah," Falco nodded.

"Wait, what?!" Rebecca looked genuinely shocked. "You mean corp corp?"

I smirked and said, "Remember when you found me on the street? I was wearing a suit, and the gun next to me had an Arasaka logo. Small hints. Look, seriously—I got stuck in the gears of corporate politics. Between two forces. My old director wanted to use me as a pawn to take out her rival, my direct superior. Now, she won. The rival's out, and the pawn's gone. Will she look for me? No clue. Maybe cute little Sue will just forget I exist."

That's exactly how Abernathy handled it in the memories of the future. But this time things could change. I've already seen plenty of fallout from her schemes.

"It's a good sign she's trying to take me out using mercs and a recruited insider. Feels like she doesn't want to involve security in this too much. Interdepartmental feuds in the corp always get messy—especially when they're off the record. Honestly, I don't think Abernathy's gonna press charges against me or Jenkins. I figure she's already labeled him as another unfortunate victim of a counterintelligence op gone wrong. Funeral paid by the corp, nice epitaph in the columbarium. Same fate was probably lined up for me too. No dirt leaves the walls. Just another loyal agent who heroically died on duty."

"Choom…" Rebecca's face was a mix of irritation and boredom. "I'm about to short-circuit here. Just spit it out—are they still trying to flatline you or not?"

"Hell if I know," I repeated my first conclusion. "Maybe Abernathy dropped it, or maybe she'll dig further. Either way, no point expecting an AV with Adam Smasher inside. More likely some other hired guns or freelance agents."

"That bitch wants to smoke you? Smoke her first!" Becca said, with a grin. "We'll even help you!"

"That hag's too high up to reach so easily," Lucy muttered darkly, flicking her cigarette ash into a can stub.

"All right, getting back to Falco's question: I'm staying."

"Good," nodded the nomad. "Second question: got any plans? Need a hand with 'em?"

"V just came off the ripper's table," Lucy cut in. "How 'bout we talk work later?"

"Why not now?" Rebecca objected. "I'm a bit strapped, and rent's due real soon…"

"Becca… I lent you twenty last week," Lucy said, her voice soft, a little too sweet, but clearly not thrilled.

"Oh yeah. Well, you know how it goes: a thousand here, a thousand there, and bam—gone," Rebecca replied innocently. "Luce, I'll pay you back. Just tell me how."

Rebecca gave her puppy eyes, snuggled up closer, and laid her head on Lucy's lap, asking, "You guys'll come up with something, right?"

Lucy gave me a meaningful look.

"Honestly, I was hoping to just chill for a few weeks," I replied. "But something low-key, we could work with."

I'd need to dive into all the data I'd snatched from work and from Faraday. Find a gig we could handle right now—low risk, no need to draw on the demonic side again. That's off-limits while I'm still upgrading the chrome.

Funny how things are lining up. I've locked Lucy in pretty well already. We're definitely working together now. And we're even planning to share a place.

Now it turns out I could pull in the other remains of Maine's crew, minus Kiwi. Do I need this? Probably. If you wanna survive Night City, you need either a big organization backing you up or solid friends at your side. Jackie alone might not be enough. I know Falco and Rebecca pretty well. I can see what they bring to the table. They're not the types to stab you in the back the second they get a better offer. I've had enough of so-called "allies" like Lucas and Okamura. Time to recruit some loyal folks.

"There'll be work," I assured them. "But one key rule: if I bring in the intel, I'm the one setting the plan, and we're gonna work hard to stick to it. Got it?"

No objections.

"It's only right that everyone's got their role in the team," Falco nodded. "I figure you're the one with the most experience planning things, V. Never thought I'd end up in the same boat as a corp counterintel guy, but everything's got its upside."

"You guys done talking?" Rebecca asked. "Can we celebrate now?"

We spent the rest of the night drinking, laughing, and telling stories.

"So there I am, sitting in my car, waiting for the guy," I was saying, half-drunk, telling another story. "He shows up. This serious-looking kid. Young, but built like a tank. Ready for his first kill, dead set on avenging his mom. I ask him, 'You got a piece?' And what does he pull out? A goddamn slot-o-matic! Yeah. That pink plastic shit you get from a vending machine."

"Maybe it was on purpose?" Lucy chuckled, not knowing I was talking about David. "Killing the enemy with a piece of garbage. Makes the revenge sting more."

"Like beating him with a dildo?" I laughed. "Maybe. Anyway, I ended up just giving him a crappy revolver."

"Let's hit the club! I wanna dance!" Becca shouted yet again, barefoot on the bar counter.

But she got shut down again. I wasn't in the mood for a club, and Lucy didn't want to leave me alone, which just about wrapped up the list of people with enough cash to hit the town.

I crashed at the same place. Lucy and I stayed in Pilar's old room, a large chunk of which was filled with half-dismantled tech.

"Does it hurt?" Lucy asked, pointing at my arm.

"Nah. Just can't get used to it. Feels… different."

"Let's compare."

She slowly took my right hand, then my left. Held both my palms. Each one felt her touch differently.

"So strange…"

"Get used to it, V. The most important thing—stay yourself. Chrome's just the shell. You are still right here."

She kissed me on the forehead first, as if to point out where I really was, then kissed me on the lips.

"Wanna continue the experiment?" she asked, playful.

"Sure, why not."

She took both my hands and placed them on her chest.

"Better?"

"Definitely."

The night was long, and we woke up late. We could have hung around the apartment, but I headed out for a follow-up with Viktor. I'd kept the drinking moderate, and had no issues with the med procedures. In an hour and a half, the ripper had installed the frame and reinforced the bones attached to the cyberlimb. Now I could slowly start cranking up the power of the synthetic muscles.

Then I dropped around three thousand eddies on a knife, some shuriken, and a chip with simulation training. That evening, I showed Jackie my first "successes." A knife thrown from the cyberlimb slammed into the wooden target with such force it rebounded almost all the way back to me.

"Well," Jackie grinned. "Accuracy's still lacking, but a throw like that could knock someone out even if you hit 'em with the blunt side. Try the shuriken. No handle on those."

The gleaming star embedded itself about three centimeters deep into the wood. The force cracked the target a bit along the impact line.

"Looks like the Arasaka Japs drilled you in some ninjutsu," Wells commented. "Let me have a go."

He threw the knife more accurately this time, even managed to hit. But his shuriken barely stuck in about a centimeter. Weird. Jackie's supposed to be way more experienced than me, but then again, this arm of mine was literally built for melee and throwing weapons and costs over twenty grand. So, shurikens in Wells's hands can only graze an enemy, apparently. But with my precision, a shot to the eye or temple could be lethal. Just gotta keep training my aim.

"You know, I met this one runner recently," Jackie said. "Apparently, she's selling cracked Militech and Arasaka simulations. Training stuff—for guns and knives. You interested?"

"Maybe. Her name T-Bug, by any chance?"

"How'd you know that?" Jackie asked, suspiciously. "Corpo's not got a target on her, right?"

"From a dossier, of course," I lied. "We had files on lots of seasoned runners. Don't worry, though. Counter-intel doesn't go after runners for cracked virtues and sims."

"Your old corpo buddies sure do have their fingers in every pie."

"They're not my buddies anymore. Let's head out tomorrow…"

"To the range?" Jackie guessed.

"Nope. To the gym. I need to get in shape. The faster I do, the quicker the rest of the chrome'll settle in."

"You're dead serious about this. Think your old corpo buddies are still after you?"

"It's not about them. Not just them, Jackie."

"Santa Madre! Enough with the mystery. Spit it out."

"Let's take a walk," I suggested. "Or better yet, a ride."

We took a cab to one of the lookout points where the whole city's lights stretched out below us. Walked a bit, had a small drink.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It's this city, Jackie. You know… I just got my freedom and started fresh. I look at Night City. I see the streets, the people, the cars, and… it's like I can see this invisible path leading right to the goddamn top."

"Wow, you're really going there!" Jackie chuckled, though I could hear a hint of respect in his voice. "But what do you want to be, V? I'm glad the corpos didn't clip your wings, but where're you headed now? Afterlife?"

"That too. But… to be honest, I don't see a difference anymore. Corpos, gangers, mercs, politicians. The higher up you go, Jackie, the less of a difference there is. Right now, it seems like there's really only one path. All roads meet at one peak where destiny's decided. And to get there without climbing those tight corporate ladders, you need power in all its forms: money, connections, and, yeah, raw strength."

"Did you read that somewhere, or come up with it yourself?"

"More like I saw it. Like some people can sense a storm coming. There's a storm brewing, Jackie. It's gonna shake the whole world. And it's starting in this goddamn city."

"So what're you gonna do?"

"Be where the first lightning bolt strikes. Be there before anyone else," I answered.

And the first bolt of the coming storm was going to hit Konpeki Plaza.