Chapter 13: Gas Drawls

Author note:

I feel like half of you don't read these messages but honestly, you should because it could be the difference between me wanting to continue or not. Anyway enjoy the chapter it took quite an effort. Leave a positive review or comment down below! Thanks for reading, until next time. 

-

Omniscient

Date: ??/??/2076

Location: Night City

In the depths of Night City, a storm brewed silently, its ominous presence felt in the flashing neon lights and distant sound of sirens.

A group of armed mercs stood, surrounding a poor civilian whose eyes were filled with terror. The smell of death and decay hung heavy in the air as they surveyed the aftermath of an apartment raid gone wrong. Corpses littered the room, their enhancements ripped from their flesh by an unknown assailant. 

"We need your testimony, choom," Enforcer Groff growled, taking a hit of dorph to calm his nerves. The drug only slightly numbed the grotesque scene before them.

The stench was overwhelming, seeping into every inch of the room - a sickening reminder of the violence that had taken place. Stains covered every surface, evidence of the brutality that had occurred.

"For me, it was the silence... the dread that came after... No one could have predicted it. One moment we were talking, the next he was decapitated. His head rolling to the corner of the room with the rest." Morrison's voice trembled as he recounted the memory of the dark figure emerging from the shadows.

With skin as black as night, it slaughtered the other Scavs with ease, ripping their enhancements from their bodies and leaving a trail of blood and gore in its wake.

Its glowing cobalt pupils seemed to stare right through them as it emitted a sinister howl from its chest. And just like that, it vanished, leaving Morrison alone to tell the tale.

"Any footage of the attack?" Groff asked.

"None... not even a trace. And I've seen my fair share of Scav killings," Montaigne replied, analyzing the scene for any clues or patterns.

"You talking about that Vigilante that's been stirring up trouble?" Groff questioned, turning his gaze towards the disfigured corpse on the ground.

Montaigne shook his head, "No way. Murkman is a brute, not a calculated killer. Someone wanted to send a message with this one."

"Strange... real strange. Tough luck, choom, but there's nothing more we can do for you," Groff said to Morrison before turning to Montaigne and silently agreeing that it was time to leave.

"Please, you have to -" Morrison's plea was cut short as a sharp pain shot through his chest. A steel blade pierced his heart, causing him to gasp for air. He locked eyes with Montaigne, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to understand why.

Bang.

"Get the data from his internal hard drives. We've got shit to do..." Groff barked as he walked away.

"Dirty Scavs..." Montaigne muttered, clawing open Morrison's neural link and extracting all of his data - a common practice in these parts.

"Fucking filthy Gonk... Probably didn't even shower for months," Montaigne scoffed.

"Shut up, Monty. We need to get moving before someone else comes snooping around. Not trying to stick around for any fireworks," Groff ordered, taking another hit of Dorph and feeling the rush of dopamine flood his brain. "Damn, that hits the spot."

"Easy for you to say, fuckface. And put that shit away while we're on the job," Montaigne scolded.

Unaware of the looming presence, a slight rustling was heard from the ceiling.

Groff and Montaigne froze, their eyes darting to the corner of the room where the sound had come from. Suddenly, a luminous figure appeared before them, adorned in emerald and ebony armour that dripped with an otherworldly aura.

The two men stood in shock as the figure's eyes lingered on a nearby corpse with apathetic interest.

"Yo! Speak before we blast you on the wall Gonk!" Groff's voice broke through the stunned silence as his hand reached for his gun, only to find that his cybernetic enhancements were unresponsive. Montaigne, their Net runner, also found himself frozen in place.

The humanoid figure hummed thoughtfully as it scanned the bodies of its targets, its piercing gaze revealing their deepest secrets. "Shit… Ain't this that tin can sending waves?" Groff managed to stammer out, realizing who they were facing. "Your Boss, Sterling Abostical also known as "Bizta"... I know where you are." The humanoid's words sent a chill down both men's spines.

"Fuck me… So what Gonk? Just flatline us, bitch!" Groff shouted in defiance, but Montaigne groaned and silenced him. It was too late - their employer had been revealed in mere seconds by the skilled netrunner standing before them.

Suddenly, without warning, another figure burst into the room and shot the humanoid executioner in the face. The lifeless body dropped to the floor with a wet thud, releasing its grip on Montaigne. The new arrival wore leather pants and had removed his eyeplate for a more sinister appearance.

"Holy fuck, choom. Thanks for the save…" Montaigne breathed a sigh of relief.

"I wasn't here to save you…" The Maelstrom's voice was cold and joyless. As Montaigne watched, the figure's hand seemed to burst through his chest, causing him to drop dead to the floor.

"Weak…" The ominous voice sneered, but it was not the end - another clone of the executed figure emerged from behind a door, only to suffer the same fate as its predecessor.

"Wait what…" Montaigne was confused and caught off guard as he watched yet another figure rise from the floor. But this time, as the masked executioner's mask fell away, the true face of their attacker was revealed - a borg with cold steel features and a luminescent gaze that glowed with disdain for humanity.

"Holy shit, a borg…" Montaigne gasped in horror as he realized they were facing an enemy made of metal and flesh.

The borg's steel-covered grip on Montaigne's head tightened, causing a searing pain in his mind that quickly turned into unbearable pressure. His vision began to blur and then everything went black as his brain exploded under the strain.

"I sense him near…" Nemesis spoke with a distorted voice, his glowing eyes scanning the streets below for their target.

"Rebooting… Operational…" The wounded male stood up, his flesh still bleeding from where the borg had gripped him. But despite his injuries, his mind remained functional.

The streets of Night City were quiet and desolate as Nemesis and his companion made their way towards their target's location.

They moved with purpose, their borg-enhanced bodies making them nearly indestructible. As they walked, the city's neon lights reflected off their steel frames, giving them an otherworldly appearance.

Finally, they reached a rundown building on the outskirts of the city. It was a common hideout for criminals and gang members, but tonight it served as the perfect location for Nemesis to carry out his mission.

Without hesitation, he kicked down the door and stormed inside with his companion close behind. The room was dimly lit by a few flickering lights, but it was enough for Nemesis to spot his target - Sterling Abostical, also known as "Bizta".

The notorious netrunner sat unperturbed at his desk, surrounded by a multitude of screens displaying complex cybernetic codes and schematics. He showed no sign of shock or fear as Nemesis burst into the room.

"Who the fuck are you?" Bizta's voice dripped with arrogance and superiority.

Without hesitation, Nemesis surged forward in a blur of metal and wires, his power unmatched and unmatched. But Bizta was prepared and quickly activated a defensive barrier, shielding himself in a shimmering force field.

The two borgs clashed with unfathomable strength, their savage blows creating waves of destruction that shattered glass and sent debris flying in all directions. The air crackled with energy as they viciously attacked each other, neither one gaining the upper hand.

As they fought, Bizta sneered and mocked Nemesis, believing himself to be the ultimate being with his advanced cybernetic enhancements. But Nemesis remained focused on his mission - to eradicate humanity without mercy.

With one final, devastating strike, Nemesis shattered Bizta's barrier and pierced his cybernetic core with deadly precision. In a blinding explosion of sparks and shattering metal, Bizta slumped over his desk, defeated and lifeless. Nemesis stood victorious amidst the chaos he had wrought.

"Extract the flesh of these inferior humans," Nemesis commanded coldly, "we will need to run diagnostics before we exterminate the rest."

Victor sat alone and unperturbed in the heart of the Mox's den, a cesspool of vice and pleasure. The bar buzzed with activity as patrons came and went, seeking a quick high.

But Victor was not here for pleasure. He was on a mission, and his intentions were unknown to the Mox members who eyed him warily.

Judy's confusion was palpable as she peered at the heavily armed man before them. "What are we doing with this creepy corpo-looking executioner?" she asked Q, her voice laced with suspicion and fear.

As she attempted to scan his equipment and database, Judy recoiled in shock, her body trembling from the sudden jolt. "Don't pry into things you shouldn't," Victor warned, his hands casually clasped behind his back as he stared at her with cold intensity.

"C-Creepy," one of the other members muttered nervously.

"I don't trust this asshole, Q! He nearly fried my brains!" Judy spat, trying to steady herself.

But Q had already made up her mind. "Listen, everyone... I'm handing leadership over to him."

"What?!" Judy exclaimed in disbelief.

"What the fuck, Q?!"

"This is unfair! You can't do this!"

"I thought the Mox meant something to you!" another member cried out.

"Yeah, we're supposed to protect ourselves against those corpo fuckers, not join them!" someone else protested.

"Listen...I know you don't like this but it's for the greater good. He's-"

"You don't need to speak for me, Suzie," Victor interrupted calmly. "I am not a corporate lackey like you all think. I am a man on a mission, and with our partnership and my leadership, we can take control of Watson."

"How do we know we can trust you?" one member challenged.

"Yeah, you just came out of nowhere and now our leader is stepping down?"

"Are you blackmailing her, you bastard? I'll fucking kill you if you are."

"Listen, I am doing what's best for the gang," Q interjected.

"You are in no position to judge me," Victor's voice was hard and commanding as he raised his hand, forcing them to their knees with his power.

Silence fell over the room as everyone stared at him, fear and awe mixing in their gazes.

"You have two choices," Victor proclaimed, his voice echoing through the bar.

"Submit today or leave. Either way, I will respect your decision. But before you make it, listen carefully to my words." With a flick of his wrist, a holographic map of the city appeared before them.

"Do my origins as a corporate vessel matter?" Victor asked rhetorically. "Let me show you who you truly are."

"You are all outcasts, misfits who have chosen depravity as your means of survival. Is this the future you imagined for yourselves? A future where your children are forced to sell their bodies?"

The members were unable to refute his claims, though some spat back in defiance.

"I don't plan on having children anyway," one member muttered bitterly.

"We do what we need to survive," another defended.

"So you must either kill or steal to get by? And selling your bodies for freedom... is that truly the life you want? As a child did you wish to be nailed against the steel railings with your cheeks spread bare? Or do you wish for a better life with grandeur?" Victor's gaze swept over the group.

"These braindances may be your main source of income, but they are a horror regardless of how you use them. And while you struggle just to stay afloat, look at the map before you. Is this all you can achieve?"

As they all studied the map, each gang's territory was highlighted in bold colours, creating a patchwork of power and control across the city.

"These were our efforts!" someone shouted defensively. "Just because we aren't as tough or dominant as other gangs doesn't mean we're less than human!"

Victor's voice was cold and unyielding as he replied, "But you are less than human. You are lower than the dirt and gravel beneath my feet. Your gang is nothing but a ragtag group of misfits trying to play at being a gang. Your efforts are wasted, for every member you gain, two more are abused and hunted by others."

"And your friend... she killed herself, didn't she? The trauma too much for her to handle?" Victor's words were like poison as he revealed his knowledge. "That will be your fate if you continue living this lie. I intend to show you the truth."

A deafening silence enveloped the group as they all processed the brutalization of their recently rescued member. The trauma and atrocities inflicted upon her have left deep scars that are too much for her to bear. The weight of her suffering hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the horrors they had all endured.

"Hmph, always the suits who want to talk big," one member scoffed, attempting to regain some of their bravado. "You're nothing without Daddy's money, fucker. You wouldn't be where you are now without it."

Victor stood tall, his voice booming with authority as he addressed the group before him. "Don't talk to me about fathers," he said, his eyes blazing with pain and anger.

"I never had the chance to inherit anything from mine, because he died before I could even say goodbye."

The members of the group shifted uncomfortably, some looking away in guilt. But one member couldn't hold back their anger. "You don't know anything about us," they spat.

Victor's demeanour remained calm, but his words were like shards of ice slicing through the air.

"On the contrary," he hissed, "I know everything about every one of you. Your names, your histories, your secrets."

His words sent a chill down their spines, and they realized that Victor knew more than they ever thought possible.

Judy scoffed, "You don't know shit, gonk." But Victor's gaze remained steady, unfazed by her insolence.

"Does your grandmother in Atlanta know of your foul mouth?" he taunted.

The mention of her family struck a nerve in Judy and she bristled with anger. "Leave her out of this!" she demanded.

But Victor continued to press, "Do you call me a liar then?"

"I don't need your so-called help." Judy snapped.

"The Mox can't compete," Victor stated calmly, "but with my guidance, we can reach new heights."

He handed Judy a blueprint that held the promise of success and she could feel her heart racing with excitement and fear.

"Holy shit..." she breathed, unable to comprehend the weight of his offer.

But as the reality sunk in, so did the realization of his true intentions. "Why us?" she demanded harshly, feeling betrayed by Q for handing over leadership so easily.

"Because your size makes you an easy target," Victor admitted shamelessly.

As they deliberated on whether or not to accept his deal, maelstrom vans idled outside their base, ready to attack at any moment.

"We have visitors, and they don't look friendly," Victor growled as he saw the members of the Maelstrom gang storming into the Mox bar.

"Did you bring them here?" Judy snapped.

"Do you think I would guide those scum to our doorstep? You know my feelings towards your little gang, missy. But these mongrels...they disgust me even more," Victor seethed, his frustration mounting. "Get out of my sight. I'll handle this myself."

As the gang members stepped outside, they were met with Victor's cold gaze. They chuckled at his overconfidence, not realizing the danger they were in.

"Hey, check out this metal freak," one of them laughed. "You think you can stop us? We'll just add another trophy to our collection."

"You won't be adding anything, Thomas," Victor stated firmly.

"How do you know my name?" Thomas asked, taking a step back in surprise.

"Oh, I know all about you and your despicable actions," Victor sneered.

Before the gang could react, a thick smoke filled the air, causing their neural processors to malfunction. Confused and disoriented, they looked up to see a holographic screen of a large man with a hammer repeatedly smashing their leader's head.

In agony, they fell to their knees as Victor calmly retrieved his weapon and pointed it at them. The other patrons of the bar watched in horror as he executed each member with a single shot to the head.

"I would have preferred a different approach, but you made it easy for me," Victor said with a hint of satisfaction.

"Please...make it stop!" one of the dying gang members pleaded.

Their cries echoed throughout the block as bystanders tried to call for help, only to find their signals jammed by Alicia - Victor's partner in crime.

"Have you jammed all signals?" Victor asked her.

"Affirmative," Alicia replied.

"Good."

Bang. Bang. Bang.

As he walked around to each body, Victor left a single bullet in their dome - a final insult before releasing them from their misery.

Then, with a match and some gasoline, he set their corpses on fire before calmly walking back into the bar.

The patrons watched in horror as he nonchalantly ordered another drink, his actions leaving an indelible mark on their minds.

"Now make your choice."

- 

David Martinez 

Date: 02/02/2076

Location: Night City

Today was another one of those days, the hours were long and I just wanted to go back home. Looking through the window I took time to check up on my appearance my curled hair a different style I had chosen for myself. 

Slicking it back and down I put on my glasses, the lens darkening to look like shades.

It was a personal alteration to the look.

I wasn't trying to look like a geek or some random gonk. 

Taking a sip of my coffee I started to think back on everything that's happened. My mom's death, randomly joining the Doc and here I was running a little security gig for him. Bet that asshole Katsubo was laughing away - I'd show him one day.

I wonder what Bec was doing around this time, it should be around when she's awake. I'd probably go check up on her and see what she's doing. 

"Looks like you're off duty, choom. Thanks for picking this one after me, had to go to my niece's Quinceañera." Jackie smiled walking near our desk.

The numerous monitors showcased differing angles around the street and site.

"No worries Jackie, I've always got your back." 

"Preciate it, choom. Ah, here.- I bought some turrón and tapas, Maybe you can share some with your little girlfriend, hehe." Jackie joked handing me a plastic bag with the contents holding the items stated.

Taking a whiff I couldn't help but smile, the mix of herbs and spices delitable not only by smell but by taste.

"We're not dating you know..." I revealed scratching my head.

"Tch, how can you call yourself a man, hermano? Where are your balls?" Jackie voiced slapping my back.

"You need to sweep her by the feet and make her yours!" He explained clenching his fist.

Taking a moment to dwell on his words I could only rebuttal, "Listen, I just don't think I'm ready for that level of commitment, man. I'm still dealing with a lot and I don't think I have the time to spare." 

"Look, choom. You're making things more complicated than it is, words of wisdom, strike the iron while it's hot. You never know what might happen, you're not doing anything and it could lead to a lot of regret you know." Jackie explained.

"I'll think about it." I voiced lowly.

"Listen, you got only one life, choom. She seems like a good gal. Don't forget to get her some on your way home." He commanded, his eyes now glued to the screens.

"Thanks, I was going to head to her place anyways," I revealed, the words instantly causing him to prompt.

"Heh, already thinking about her, aye? I can hear something special. Make sure to wear a condom you hear! I ain't ready to see a little you." He snickered, his voice slowly dimming as I left. 

Walking through the bustling streets of Night City, people walked on with a sense of purpose. With my head locked forwards I treaded without much as a peep of looking around.

I too had to pretend to look busy as in Night City where looking lost was a sin you had to look busy - you had to look important. 

Making my way to her apartment the area looked better than any rundown area I had lived in previously. Memories of my mother coming up, her warmth still felt. A day hadn't passed where I hadn't forgotten her. 

Yet, I began to slightly cry as I had forgotten what she looked like. I hadn't taken many pictures with my mothers and most of the images were lost with time. I truly had forgotten my mother...

I hated that, I hated this city and it's fucking bullshit. I hated what it took from me and I hated how those bastard corpses live a life without worry.

What did they know of struggle? All they had to do was wake up and live life. My mother died trying her best and it wasn't even her fault. She was caught up in gang wars that were artificially created by the corpo's on top.

In fact, Texas had been a perfect example of how society was and could be. Looking at the files I found the quality of life there better than any I had seen. While under a dictatorship what good was a flawed democracy anyway.

This Allfather choom seemed preem. If I could live anywhere it was there, I was hoping the Doc could get me in. Maybe this was the next goal for me. Help out the doc, get stronger then move over to the Texas federation. 

While it could've been bad what could be worse than Night City?

Wiping the little droplets from my eyes I knocked on Rebecca's apartment door, a few moments before she opened.

"Uh, - hey, Bec... Thought I'd pass by and give you some food." I voiced awkwardly, her appearance a tad bit exposed.

"Oh, hey, choom. Thanks for coming." She voiced, her eyes sunken with dried tears on her face.

"Did I come by at the wrong time?" I asked her apartment was a mess.

"Uhm, sorry I just wasn't expecting anyone. Dorio and Maine are usually busy with one another and Sasha's been busy talking with her father." She explained, my eyes turning to face a picture frame with candles around it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I explained.

"Don't worry about it, choom." She murmured weakened.

"Hey wanna try these Tapas? A friend of mine brought enough for the both of us to share. I think it'll cheer you up." I expressed trying to change the mood.

"Thanks, David.- For being thoughtful... I appreciate it." She smiled, her eyes devoid of any happiness. 

Looking at her I couldn't help but just hug her. She seemed weak and unusually depressed. That wasn't the Becca I knew. The Becca I knew would spit out the world before it got to her. She would die before she gave up, I had to do something. 

Suprised by my action she seemed hesitant before shaking, her hands embracing my back.

"I j-just, hate it here..." She voiced her voice breaking.

"It's okay Bec, everything gonna be alright... We'll figure this out, as a crew." I explained her eyes seeming to warm up.

"Thanks, for that choom. Real preem hug... I needed that. Listen, I uh. Let's play a game." She voiced pulling out a console.

"You play?" I questioned.

"I used too, but ever since Pillar's passing I just never felt like pulling it out anymore." She explained.

Taking it out she connected two controllers the two of us now sitting on the couch focused on the game.

"You know for a guy that play's a lot you kinda suck." Becca voiced casually, her skill impressive.

Killing me numerous times in the span of a few minutes I decided to switch games, my anger starting to burn through reason.

"Let's play Town Combatners four," I demanded, my hands clenched at the numerous losses.

"Aww, is little ol' David angwy ~?" She teased pinching my nose.

"Fuck! Come on, Bec! Fry it up, you're going down on this next one. I'm a total pro!" I exasperated leaning forward.

"Okay, but don't cry when I whoop your ass ten times." 

"Heh, yeah right." 

She whooped my ass ten times - in a row.

She didn't even seem to try, her methods stadistic. It was times like this when I would check if my controller was even on, her skill was way better than mine. It was like she was cheating! 

"You aren't cheating are you?" I asked, heaving, the vein in my brows building under the stress.

"I haven't even leaned forward, choom. You just suck." She explained, the colour in my eyes draining.

"Fuck me..." I sighed defeated.

"How about we play a co-op game? Something like Craft n Mine?" She explained.

"What's that?" I asked confused.

"It's a co-op survival game, you build stuff and explore." She continued.

Taking time to look at my clock, I seemed content. I had enough time to complete my modules from the Doc. 

"Ah, sure. I wouldn't mine." I voiced smiling, her eyes gleaming at my answer.

"Cool, I'll load it up." 

Watching a pixelated screen pull up we ended up playing the game for hours. Our laughs and snickers exasperated at moments. I got lost in her voice and comfort, it reminded me of home.

A time when my mom used to come in and say everything was going to be alright. For a moment it truly felt like that. But reality never gave those moments an eternity and the harsh touch of life brought me back to the present.

"Do you think there's more to life than this?" I asked suddenly, my head leaning against her lap.

My question seemed to startle Bec who looked down on me worried.

"I don't know. I've just been surviving my whole life. You should know better than anyone that Night City isn't for the weak." She explained.

"But don't you think there's more to this world than just Night City? I was thinking... Do you ever want to move to Texas? It's pretty good there." I voiced.

"Texas? That place ruled by that creepy-looking dude called the 'Allfather'?" Becca questioned confused.

"Yeah... I heard from the Doc that the place is like a paradise in comparison to Night City. You could walk at night without worrying about getting knifed." I voiced.

"A place like that exists?" She inquired perplexed.

"So." I voiced.

"Well-. Maybe one day, I've always wanted to leave Night City when I was young but those opportunities seemed bleak... Hey, maybe once we're Night City legend we'll do that." She smiled looking at me.

"Is that a promise?" I asked.

"It's a promise." She affirmed, her pinky out to confirm our vow.

"Then let's promise that once we're both legends we'll leave Night City together." I smiled, clenching my pinkies. 

Letting the mood sink I lay up slightly panicked, the time nearly midnight. I had to return home and submit my modules to the Doc else he'd leave me an earful.

"Hey Bec, thanks for letting me come over." I smiled.

Looking up at me she she seemed lost in her thoughts, her words spewing out, "It's okay, thanks for the food. I appreciate you coming over, choom... Not many people come over anymore... Thank you." 

"Anytime." I voiced now at the door.

"Oh, tell your Spanish friend I said thank you and that the condom wasn't needed." She voiced flustered, a condom left a the bottom of the plastic bag.

"Uh-!"

"Don't worry dummy, I know it wasn't you. You don't have the balls for it, choom. Take care, I'll see you again right?" She smiled poking me. 

"Yeah, I'll come around." I smiled slightly blushing.

That damn idiot! What was he thinking?

Leaving her apartment I made my way towards the mine, the travel requiring me to take a taxi.

Going through I quickly completed the prompts and the questions going over the history of Night City and how it was formed. Another few prompts were on strategic movements and how to position yourself in unfamiliar terrain.

It was to make up for my shortcomings, and how to navigate the city with more awareness as although I had lived my entire life here I wasn't exactly an expert. I knew my routes but I didn't know anything else.

He was right, I needed to be smarter, stronger and better. Especially if I was going to be a Night City legend. Like Johnny Silverhand or Adam Smasher. They were all solos who made a mark on history, their names etched in the concrete walls of Night City. But I wasn't going to be like Johnny who died or Adam Smasher who sold out. I was going to do my own thing and I was going to bring Becca with me.

Incoming transmission: The Doctor

"Enjoy your little date?" The Doctor voiced through my glasses.

"I'm sorry I got carried a little away-."

"I expect perfection, Mr. Martinez, your responses were lacklustre, as they were late. While tardiness can be excused your poor answers cannot. Sleep and ensure you are sharp for the next morning. I will be sending a commission and I expect absolute perfection from you Martinez. Do not let your heart sway your mind, I expect better from my apprentice. Your love life comes second to this one. Don't forget what you promised." The Doctor voiced a holographic display of himself shown through the glasses in front of me, his arms crossed behind his back as he looked down on me.

"Are we understood?"

"I-I understand, sorry I won't let you down."

"Good, now here is your pay. I've put in a little extra for you due to your recent performance on the field. Take your little lady friend out for a date. Wear something appropriate when you do not. Do not tarnish my name or legacy young one. I expect great things." He voiced before fading away, the transmission ending.

Looking at my bank account I saw the flow of eddies staggering the amount worth ten gigs.

[§9'877 -> §123'125]

"Holy shit…" I murmured shocked.

While the man often gave me his black card it was merely for business purposes, this on the other hand was my money, meaning I could do whatever.

While I did earn money from time to time, gigs usually meant that the pay was split across the crew going five ways. This left me having to pay for reequipment and materials for my projects, and the doctor not give me the resources for free.

It ensured that I would continue to work for him and not remain complacent. While the opportunities were given, I had to earn it, so I did. I had been grinding for the last few weeks doing any job that I could, whether it was with the crew or not.

Solo missions were the most tiresome ones as I had no backup. It was often given to me without prompt and without the others knowing. It was a test to show that I truly had the grit and strength to be the man's apprentice.

There were times I nearly died due to negligence or pure unluckiness and every time I found a way out. But every time I went on a gig the easier it became, my aim became sharper and my positioning became more standard.

Close-quarter combat was also facilitated through Braindances and I was confident that I could take on any amateur on the street. The list of mixed martial arts created a ruthless combination that ensured bruisers wouldn't always get the jump on me.

While the occasional brute did due to their enhancement and cybernetics an easy emp and sharp knife was often the solution when they came too close and that was with limited equipment.

Nowadays I was equipped with grade A tech, the doctor giving me weapons that could rival some of the Tyga Claw gangers. While Cybernetics were off the table they weren't excluded as of yet.

I mean I had the best ripper doc in the city as my boss, so why wouldn't I try my luck right? While some may say that I was exaggerating I wasn't. I saw with my own eyes how he operated on the table.

A few of those in the "Mox" for some reason were given all free re-adjustments and discounted cybernetic parts. They seemed sceptical at first but after a while, they warmed up to him. Usually for such fixes and work you'd have to chip upwards to a thousand eddies just for a part.

Labour depended on the skill and from what I knew the guy that was going to install my Sandevistan was an amateur compared to the Doc's skill. The guy had managed to replace a Valentino gang member's spine in under an hour.

Thinking back then, I had hesitated to install the Sandevistan due to numerous reasons but I had failed to do so in time before I was ambushed. I left it in my mother's ashes as a way to commemorate her but I didn't know if that was the right thing.

Maybe I should've installed it. But part of me told another story, I think I knew that if I had installed the piece I would've gone psycho, the love for power creeping on me. I had seen what Cyberpsychosis did to people and it wasn't good.

Some people thought that it just makes you go crazy and wanna murder people but that wasn't entirely true. Learning under the doctor taught me what it meant, it was the loss of their identity. It was more scary than just being a murder hobo because it meant such people could live with it.

Some could tolerate it and live out their entire lives before crashing out. Wouldn't that be horrific to find the love of your life murder his newborn because of his sickness? That was what Cyberpsychosis. It was an illness that fostered quietly in the heart of every cyber-freak out there.

It also explained why the world was such a hell hole, our world leaders were such freaks. There was no telling how much chrome was chucked on them. It was why I looked on at the doctor surprised. He was 100% human my diagnostics showcasing that he was fully flesh, with no enhancements. That was impossible, I had seen him bench ten tons and crush pure tungsten with his bare hands.

That was superhuman and even those with cybernetics enhancements struggled with such force. How was that possible? Even drug testing the man came out negative which meant he wasn't enhanced through steroids like the animals and he wasn't teched out like Adam Smasher. He was pretty much a freak of nature.

After having a quick shower I laid on my bed soon to seep into the shadow realm a full day of work soon to come. I wasn't sure what tomorrow held but I was sure it was going to be hectic. The doctor always found a way to make trouble for me. Let's hope tomorrow wasn't going to be the case.

"Your task is simple, extraction of a VIP in Scavenger territory do so and you'll be compensated generously as usual." The Doctor transmitted, his holographic display showcasing the man drinking coffee.

"Just extraction no clearance?" I asked.

"No need for such methods, as long as the VIP is extracted and sent to the Trauma team the commission will be fulfilled." He explained, which meant that this job wasn't from him. 

Usually, gigs from the man were highly layered with rewards which entecived different methods success scoring a higher pay. A gig like this didn't and was actually quite bland in comparison, with the pay slightly poor. 

If I wasn't already netting a steady income of 2000 eddies a week I would've been under the pump trying to find more jobs. 

[Transmission ending]

Branshing my pistol I walked inside the scav hideout prepared, my optics connecting to mmy cyberdec. Scanning the building grid I quickly found the blueprint and layout of the building, the collapsed walls and clieing creating a maze which I needed to trek.

That was until I saw a familiar face at the entrance of the apartment. 

"You live here?" A man spoke, the guardsmen someone I had chosen to spare.

He appeared to be a solo who was hired by a gang to guard the facility we were targeting. The origins of such a facility are unknown and we didn't ask questions, the doctor's mouth shut tight. We had only been sent to clear out the building and clear out the men inside. Was a quick buck for the crew and while initially wanting to blitz in I found the man to be slightly kind for a Night city native.

And I was right, he was a nomad who had only recently come from the outside. Scanning him I found his credentials easily even to his history with the Aldecaldo's. It was due to this I managed to convince the others to back away. He didn't deserve to die a cheap death.

"No, I uh. I'm working." I explained his eyes slightly shocked before returning to normal.

"Ah, right. Makes a lot of sense. Hey choom, thanks for not killing me that day I appreciate it. Didn't know you guys were top dogs around here." He voiced.

"Likewise I didn't think I'd meet someone so nice in Night City. Usually, the guards and gangers would reign down hell before we even got two metres in." I voiced.

Scenes emerging of gunfire between the Maelstrom and Tyga Claws their methods ruthless and unhinged. I always felt good killing those bastards, their track record was hideous.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself, my name's Vincent but most people know me by V." 

"David Martinez, I'm currently on the job and I hope our jobs don't conflict with one another." 

"Ah, look I'm new to this whole edgerunner stick, I know they tell you not to tell the credentials of the whole thing but my fixer told me to extract some tech. I think you're a good guy, surely you're not here to stop me?" He asked almost pleading.

"Well-... Mine's an extraction, I'm looking for someone. Need to get them out before they get scavenged. Listen, how about we help one another out. I know we've only recently met each other but I feel like we can work something out." I voiced handing the man a tracker and make-shift bomb.

"It's a tracker, it'll help you find whatever piece of equipment you're looking for. Just need to input whatever equipment you have and you'll hear the frequency start to bounce for it. I've already got one so I'll be fine." I explained.

"Ah, thanks, preciate' it, choom. - that'll cut my time here down by half." He smiled, a log of numbers jumping to my screen. 

It appeared that his fixer wanted him to grab a pulse-making generate and Marx frequency calibre. The type of shit you would need for a military-grade emp.

Although unconventional it was strong enough to shut a facility down for a few moments. Whoever this guy was working for needed some heavy stuff as it took a lot to know the parts and a lot more to assemble the thing. 

"Listen, whenever you're free head down to the "El Coyote Cojo" my shout." He smiled.

"I'll think about it, you know how this life goes," I answered.

"Yeah tough work, makes me wanna go back on the road. I tell you what kid, if you need help fixing a car or getting one, come around and find me. I'll help you out," He smiled before leaving.

Well, I did need to get a car hopefully, the man knew something. While I could ask the doctor I feel like he would recommend a makigai MaiMai over a Shion MZ2. But back to business, tracking forward inside the building gunshots were heard the sound of bodies thumbing echoing throughout the building.

Either that was the sound of the idiot dying or him making too much noise. Either way, his blunder led to the whole building being on edge. With my scanning for life, I made quick work of any that made my way, my silencer peaking from corners ending any that dared to come close. 

Silent and ruthless It mimicked the many situation drills I had done, it made this situation almost like a game to me. The kill count was merely a point system, it was my only method of passing the time as the signal came close.

I had met a few brutes but they were easily taken down, my blade wedged up their nose after jumping them. Straight to the brain, they were pretty much lobotomised, the quick spill of blood draining from their nose down to the floor. It was pretty brutal but something I had quickly gotten used to. 

THe military brain dances didn't censor the scenes and I pretty much became desensitised by the gore. The only thing that did throw me off was the smell, it was putrid and horrid. It was a mix of bad breath and shit combined to create a horrific stench. Nothing could get me used to that.

Looking down at the lady's body she seemed still alive but slightly traumatised her body diagnostics running low. injecting her with a few stims she coughed back to life, her naked body brought up.

[Calling "The Doctor" ]

"I've secured the target." I voiced.

"Good, lay her body down and create some space. The Trauma team can be... Ruthless in their approach." He explained.

"I'll be sure to do so." I voiced laying her down, her head slightly raised.

Seeing the Aerodyne come in they seemed to scan me up and down their guns raised. Casually watching them, I left the scene. I wasn't going to deal with those assholes. They had failed to save my mother due to insurance yet these so-called VIPs got all the treatment and help.

Where were they when my mother needed help? She was an employee for Christ sake... Yet they threw her out like any other dog on the street. What a joke, a sick joke.

"Evacuate the building, your pay will be sent." The Doc voiced before ending the call. The mission is short and sweet. 

These types of gigs were harmless as the Scavs were pretty much useless against me. While they did have scavenged tech it often led them to be psychotic and unaware of their surroundings, with the smell of dorphs a common occurrence. 

"Ah, shit kid." V voiced seeing me, a bullet wound lodged against his lower abdomen. Slowly bleeding out he would need help.

"You look like shit..." I murmured seeing the wound.

"No kiddin' Choom." He smiled, the life in his eyes draining," Seems like this is it for me. End of my line... Thanks for the help, choom. Night city would've been a better place with people like you..."

Unable to speak further he eventually passed out, his pulse still strong. Not sure what to do I thought back to my mother, the image of her death still hung high. I wouldn't abandon someone who needed help especially since he was an okay dude. 

I wouldn't return his kindness with indifference I would be no better than those fucking bastards that left my mother to die. I would be the person who helped others, I would be the person who could've saved my mother. 

Stiming the man with some synthetic his wounds eventually closed up the bullet popping out. Unconscious and still needing help I eventually led him back to the doctor who seemed oddly quiet.

He seemed almost shocked or surprised at seeing the man. 

"Lay him on the table and leave." He voiced, the sudden action odd.

"You sure?" I asked.

"I won't repeat myself." He voiced, his tone suddenly shifting.

"Okay..." I voiced leaving the scene uncharacteristic.

He always appeared stoic, just who was V to him?