The Afterlife Nightclub

The Afterlife Nightclub, a place where the legends of Night City gather.

What defines a legend?

Most people believe that a legend is someone who causes major trouble for a corporation and then gets buried six feet under.

Take Johnny Silverhand, for example. This notorious terrorist attacked the Arasaka Tower in 2023 and detonated a nuclear bomb on it.

The nuke turned the entire sky red, and the radiation cloud lingered for decades. The red hue also persisted for decades.

This period became known as the "Red Decades."

Or take Morgan Blackhand, a guy with minimal cybernetic enhancements who, along with a squad of Militech soldiers, stormed the Arasaka Tower. Within minutes, they breached Arasaka's defenses, including those of the legendary enforcer, Adam Smasher.

And Adam Smasher... well, he's a legend in his own right, still holding the record for the most cybernetic modifications on a human body.

There's probably not even five pounds of flesh left on him.

"To become a big shot, you gotta go to places like that. I'm getting pumped!"

In the car, Jackie was once again regaling Leo and V with tales of these legends.

But you only need to hear this stuff once or twice; hearing it too often just makes it tiresome.

Leo sighed, "Jackie, can you calm down?"

V, who was driving, also had a look of disdain. "Jackie, I get it—it's a place for big shots. But when you keep talking about it like this, it makes the place sound cheap."

Jackie shook his head, "You guys have issues, serious issues."

V, still focused on the road, said, "Speaking of issues, here's one—are we really driving this Mackinaw to the Afterlife? Doesn't that feel a bit low-class? Why don't you use your 'car summoning magic' to bring us a black sports car instead?

And speaking of that, why do you always hack these junkers? G240s, Columbus V340s, Rattlers..."

"Cars also have individual ICE protections. When time is of the essence, hacking cars that have been cracked before makes things quicker.

To be honest, I could probably hack us a Behemoth right now—interested?"

"No, thanks. So you're saying if you had the time, you could really hack a sports car?"

"Sure—if you don't mind the NCPD trailing you wherever you go."

"On second thought, let's not." V sighed, "If I'd known, I wouldn't have spent all my time drinking. I should've bought a car first. Now here we are, the Burgerking Big Shots Squad—rolling up to The Afterlife in a black pickup truck.

Not only is the name dumb, but even the car is bulky and stupid."

Leo shrugged, offering no comment.

After about half a minute, Jackie spoke up again, "Did you know The Afterlife used to be a morgue?"

Leo and V exchanged exasperated looks—

Is he really going to tell this story from the beginning again?!

From the outside, the Afterlife Nightclub didn't look like a place where big deals went down.

Dirty and chaotic, surrounded by abandoned apartment buildings, with damp, dark grounds.

But the cars in the parking lot told a different story—there were Alvarado "Delegate" limousines, Thrax 388 Jeffersons... All of them long vehicles that were very business-like and secure.

There was even a Herrera Outlaw GTS—only about 1,000 of these exist globally, and fewer than 10 in Night City. Each one is a hand-crafted masterpiece by a designer.

V was filled with envy—growing up on the streets, the Outlaw GTS was the kind of supercar they dreamed of owning as kids.

Ultimately, for kids who grew up with nothing, the strongest desires they felt from people were for sex, drugs, and money.

But just wanting money felt too mundane, while cars were different.

They symbolized the pinnacle of craftsmanship and industrial technology, making them the ultimate pursuit.

Now she was starting to like the Afterlife—even more so because, one day, they might drive cars like these.

Jackie nudged V with his elbow, "What do you think, chica? Now do you see how awesome the Afterlife is?"

"Awesome or not depends on the kind of gigs we can land—let's head inside."

Leo, however, suddenly noticed a car in the corner of the parking lot that no one was paying attention to—it was their "old friend"!

The Columbus Freight V340!

"See! V, I told you even big shots drive this car!"

"You're an idiot—why don't you just drive a Columbus Freight for the rest of your life!"

Leo shook his head silently: The brainwashing of consumerism is terrifying.

If it drives, it drives—what else am I going to drive with just a few thousand eurobucks?

With the car parked, the three of them headed toward the seemingly ordinary apartment building. The outside of the nightclub was lined with cheap neon decorations, and the walls were covered in graffiti of various styles.

A few customers with extravagant hairstyles and clothing were standing outside. Not only were their outfits over-the-top, but they also looked very expensive.

Leo even noticed one guy wearing a coat made of pure leather—the real kind.

Keep in mind, in this world, most biological life has long since gone extinct, making this kind of real leather coat far from cheap.

If he activated his scanner and connected to the NCPD's criminal database, the scan would likely return:

"Not found, or you lack the necessary permissions."

Sitting outside the staircase leading to the basement were a few men wearing cheap, woven clothing. Their cyberware was simple and functional, clearly modified for gunfights—straightforward, direct, and professional.

They looked relaxed, likely mercenaries waiting for a job.

Heading underground, there was a corridor before the actual entrance to the Afterlife. It was filled with mercs standing in small squads, all sporting numerous combat cyberware enhancements.

For such specialists, the industry had a more fitting name.

Edgerunners.

They walk the edge of legality when working, teeter on the edge of a breakdown mentally, and every mission feels like they're running on the edge of life and death.

As the trio stepped into the corridor leading to the nightclub, Leo's phone rang—caller ID: Rogue.

The Queen of the Afterlife, the most influential fixer in Night City.

Rogue: "I've heard about you from Padre for a while now. Didn't expect you to take so long to show up here. Quite the patience you've got."

Leo: "If you can't be patient, you can't handle the big jobs. And look at me now, I've caught the attention of the Queen of the Afterlife."

Rogue: "Interesting, kid. Come on in."

Finally, after passing through the corridor and past these edgerunners, the three of them reached the entrance to the Afterlife Nightclub—

There stood a massive figure, comparable to Jackie in size, with his hands clasped in front of his abdomen, standing like a mountain.

As Leo, V, and Jackie approached, the man raised his right hand, quickly confirming their identities before stepping aside.

But the expression on his face as he looked at them was a bit peculiar.

No doubt... it was because of that ridiculous name.

"This is it." Jackie stared at the seemingly ordinary double doors, catching glimpses of flashing lights through the glass—

Stepping through the door.

The pulse of intense rock music slammed into their brains, and the pungent smell of smoke instantly sobered them up.

Blinding light pollution was everywhere, surrounded by heavily cybered mercenaries, low-profile hackers in black leather jackets, and customers wearing outrageously expensive clothes. Everywhere—every room, every corner—could be the site of a major deal worthy of making headlines.

Everyone here had the potential to become the next legend, dying at Arasaka Tower or some other place fitting for a legendary death.

Or they might be found in the junkyard tomorrow, curled up in a box like an unwanted toy.

But either way, they were all headed toward the real Afterlife.

Jackie walked like he was on cloud nine, taking in everything around him as he went—

"The heart of Night City! It's right here, always beating—do you hear it?

Can you imagine? Susan Forrest, even Morgan Blackhand—all of them sat on these stools, passed out on this bar."

Jackie mumbled as if in a dream, finding a spot at the bar to sit down, the dazzling lights reflecting in his eyes.

V chuckled and said, "Now it's our turn."

Leo sat next to them, just as an elderly woman in a yellow robe and black leather pants walked by.

The two exchanged glances and nodded—a silent greeting.

Jackie whispered, "Whoa, that's Rogue! The most powerful fixer in Night City! The Queen of the Afterlife! She looked at us!"

Leo waved dismissively, "Alright, Jackie, you're acting like a brain-dead rookie."

Just then, the bartender approached, a smile on his face: "What can I get you guys to drink?"