I tagged the target downrange with my optics, making sure it fit neatly inside the box that popped up in my vision. Then, I raised the gun and squeezed the trigger. Bullets screamed from the barrel and corkscrewed through the air before embedding themselves in the target and I heard a ‘tsk’ from beside me.

“You know, I wanted to congratulate you after that van thing you pulled off,” said Deng as he watched me shoot. “But then you went and disappeared on all of us. Fred said he’s only seen you once over the past two weeks.”

I clicked the magazine release on the side of the pistol and watched as the entire barrel detached. Grabbing another barrel from the counter in front of me, I slapped it on, and the targeting box reappeared in my vision. I tagged the target again with my optics and fired off a few more rounds.

“And then you show up after chipping that lazy tech,” Deng sighed. “Makes me want to take back all my praise.”

I chuckled and aimed just to the right of the target before squeezing the trigger. The bullets shot out and curved mid-air to stream back and slam into the target.

The A-22B Chao felt good in my hands. It wasn’t clunky, and I was getting used to the targeting box popping up in my vision when my smartlink connected to the gun. The fact that I could still be dangerous without needing to be entirely accurate was a big selling point for the gun. I could just ‘spray-and-pray’ and still hit my target.

“Every edgerunner thinks getting a smartlink is gonna propel them to legendary status. It’s the opposite, kid. You get a smartlink, and you forget how to shoot. What happens when a netrunner messes with your smartlink? You’re stuck with a gun that doesn’t work while people take potshots at you. Or, your bullets fly off in random directions because your target has those glowing tattoos that all the Tyger Claws got that mess with the tracking software.”

“That’s why I’m getting a backup piece,” I explained as I set down the Chao and looked over the rest of the guns laid out in front of me: a Unity, a Kenshin, and an Omaha, all unloaded. I was already comfortable with the Unity, a dependable if unspectacular gun, but I was hoping for something with a little more flash. I always saw the Unity as more of a starter pistol, especially since it was the first gun that V gets in the game. Now that I had some money, I wanted something a little better.

I glanced at the Omaha – the same model Deng had hidden in his holster – and shook my head. It was a good gun but it didn’t feel right in my hands. Every shot felt like a struggle. Finally, I picked up the Kenshin and popped in a magazine before taking aim at the target downrange.

I fired a few shots, getting used to the recoil, and nodded. It felt right.

“Kenshin’s good,” Deng said. “If you’re set on merc work, you’ll need a gun that can punch a hole in a borg.”

When Deng had been helping me pick out some guns to try, he told me a few horror stories about people using the Unity against borged-out cyberpsychos only to find it useless against their subdermal armor. The bullets would plink off the borgs, and that would be that. The cyberpsycho would get close for the kill and someone would call in the meatwagons to clean up the Unity owner off the sidewalk. The Kenshin was a tech pistol and could be charged to punch through thick armor.

The only drawback for the Kenshin was the cost of its ammo. Unlike the Unity’s standard 9mm rounds, the Kenshin used tungsten steel rounds in red triangular casings – expensive, but affordable after the RCS heist and what I got from Dogtown.

After another thirty minutes of shooting, I settled on the Kenshin and the Chao. Deng and I packed up and headed back upstairs to the gun store to make my purchase.

“Hey Alejandro,” Deng said as we entered the shop. “The kid’s made his choices.”

I walked to the counter where Alejandro stood behind bulletproof glass and set down the Kenshin and the Chao. The other guns were discreetly pushed off to the side.

“I’ll take these two. And can I get some extra magazines and ammo for them?” I asked. “Plus, I’ll take a holster for each if you got ‘em.”

Deng let out a knowing chuckle at the mention of holsters and I could feel my ears go red. The last time we were in this shop, I had turned down buying a holster; something Deng warned me against. Of course, when my run-in with Dennis ended with my gun dropping out of my pants while I tried to run away, Deng made sure to remind me of his earlier advice every chance he got.

“I’ve got something for the Chao, but for the Kenshin…” Alejandro picked up the Kenshin from the counter, ensuring it was unloaded before turning it towards me. “This gun is meant to be concealed. ‘Saka ninjas love it because they can hide it in coats and jackets since it’s slimmer than most guns. You don’t want this in a hip holster. Try that.”

Alejandro pointed behind me and I turned to see a jacket hanging on a shelf. It looked just like the jacket V wore in the game, and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. I read the hand-printed sign next to it.

Crystaljock Bomber Jacket. Favorite of Edgerunners everywhere.

I picked it up and looked it over and was about to tell Alejandro I didn’t need a jacket when I paused. Why not buy it? I had promised myself before heading into Dogtown that I would gear up and focus more on my own security once I got back. Just yesterday I bit the bullet and stopped by Yoko’s place to pick up a couple of quickhacks. The jacket would be another tool to keep me out of danger.

The jacket was a washed-out black, with armor plates stitched into the fabric. I slipped it on to get a better sense of the fit and found it didn’t restrict my movements. The armor plates gave it a comfortable weight. The collar was popped up, probably designed that way to protect my neck from blades. I walked around the shop, feeling the jacket settle on me. A grin crept onto my face, but I fought it down as I looked at Deng and Alejandro.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Both of them were chuckling, eyes gleaming with amusement as I moved around in the jacket. I just rolled my eyes at them.

“Okay. I’ll take it. How much?”

Alejandro turned his amused expression to Deng before saying, “how should I know kid? This is a gun store; I don’t sell clothes here.”

I looked over at Deng, confused, but found him smiling at me with a look of pride.

“No,” I said. “I can’t take this.”

“Relax, kid. You know how much I got from your van thing? And all I did was stand there while it drove up to me.” He reached out and patted my shoulders, checking the fit of the jacket. “Looks good on you. Should help you from getting shot when you do stupid stuff like run into the middle of a gunfight.”

Alejandro drew my attention back as he pushed the Kenshin and two extra magazines towards me. “There’s a built-in holster on the left side of the jacket. On the right, you’ve got room for two magazines.”

I holstered the Kenshin and the magazines, stretching a little to see how everything felt. The gun felt natural, snug at my side, and I barely noticed the weight of the magazines.

With my purchases complete and my guns holstered, Deng and I left the store and made our way towards the alcove at Lizzie’s. It had been about two weeks since I had shown up there, and on our walk, Deng quizzed me on what I had been doing. I told him I was mostly just shut away in my apartment, going over netrunner stuff. That was only half a lie.

The day after I got back from Dogtown, I went to Vik’s clinic – having made an appointment this time – and gave him a steep discount on all the cyberware I had stolen in exchange for installing the face implant for me.

It took him almost an entire day to wrap his mind around the tech of the face implant. It was unlike anything on the market. Not only did it have a behavior scanner chip that required an install in my optics, but it also had these subdermal…thingies that needed to be implanted under my skin.

Vik had told me their name, but it went in one ear and out the other. I just referred to them as thingies. They synced up with the faceplate implant and, when activated, did some kind of magical science stuff to change my skin and body to mimic another person.

It took me a week to heal from the surgery. I spent all that time locked up in my apartment, not wanting anyone to question what type of cyberware I had installed that required a full weeks’ worth of healing. People knowing about the face implant would defeat its purpose and threaten my future anonymity.

I couldn’t even lie and say it was to recover from getting a sandevistan. When I got to Vik’s clinic and handed him all my loot from Dogtown, I asked him if he could install the sandy. My dreams of being a ninja and cutting bullets out of the air crashed in moments as he gave me a puzzled look and asked why I wanted to give up my cyberdeck. It turns out, the neuroport that makes cyberware work, couldn’t handle a cyberdeck OS and a Sandevistan. I thought that was for gameplay reasons, but it turns out that if you tried to run both you’d fry your brain. And since I definitely still needed my brain, I had to give up my dreams of sprinting around like the Flash.

As we reached the alcove, I noticed a somber mood blanketing the place. Usually, when I visited Fred and Mor, there was a boisterous party going on. This time, everyone seemed slightly drawn and quiet.

Deng and I picked our way through the crowd and eventually sidled up to Fred and Mor, who were perched on one of the couches. The mood had affected them as well, and they weren’t as animated when Deng and I showed up. Neither seemed willing to tell me what had happened, but when I looked to Deng with questions written all over my face, he let out a deep sigh.

“It’s Tomas.”

“What about him?” I asked.

“He’s gone missing,” said Deng. “A couple days now."

“He mostly hangs around Kabuki,” added Mor. “And when someone goes missing in Kabuki…” He left the sentence unfinished. Fred and Mor had warned me often enough about wandering around Kabuki alone for me to know it was dangerous. Everyone knew there was a Scav presence in the area, along with other troubling rumors.

“What?!” I stammered. “What happened? Why wasn’t he with something?”

“He hadn’t been going out much lately,” said Fred, picking up the thread. “He was mostly staying in his camp.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he go out?”

Fred and Mor exchanged uneasy glances, each hoping the other would speak, but Deng stepped in.

“They don’t wanna tell you because they think you’ll blame yourself. Which would be stupid if you did.”

I gave Deng a puzzled look. This was the first time I was hearing about Tomas. Why would I blame myself? We weren’t that close, and I hadn’t seen him much since leaving the alcove.

“After your van heist, the four of us got together to decide what to do with the money,” Mor began. “Fred was talking about building a safe spot in Northern Watson and—"

“And it’s not a great idea,” Deng interrupted, glancing at Fred who threw up his hands in frustration. “We’ve already had this conversation.”

“Yea, we’ve all been trying to convince Fred to stay out of North Watson. He’s agreed it might be too dangerous and is looking at other areas for a camp.”

“I still think you guys are wrong. You know what’s happening up there. We need to band together, now more than ever. If we can set up a safe haven in the area, it’ll help a lot.”

Deng and Fred seemed ready to argue again, but Mor cut in. “After we set aside money to build a camp, we found we still had a ton left. More than any of us had ever earned from a single job.”

“Tomas didn’t have to scrounge anymore,” Fred explained. “He had enough to buy all the food and drink he wanted. Eventually, he got into glitter and black lace. We didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

“Best we can figure,” Mor continued, “he went out in Kabuki by himself a couple days ago. We’ve asked around, but nobody’s seen him since.”

I sat back on the couch in shock. I hadn’t known any of this. Could I have done something if I’d been around more? Could I have stopped it or…done anything?

Mor could see me beginning to spiral.

“Hey. We take care of our own here. I told you that on the first day you showed up all beat to hell. That means we protect our people, stopping them from getting jumped or dragged off by gangs,” said Mor. “But that requires being smart about the risks they take. That’s why Fred and I harped on you so much when you were doing stupid things, and we tried to teach you to never work alone.”

The three of them kept talking, trying to find the words to help me come to terms with the fact that Tomas was presumed dead. They kept insisting that it wasn’t my fault he got into glitter and black lace, and I wasn’t the one who told him to venture into Kabuki by himself. But that wasn’t entirely true.

I remembered visiting Tomas after we had hit Dennis’ crew. He had glitter and black lace in his pockets. It was his ‘reward’ for helping me out. Was he addicted before that? Doubtful. It was entirely my fault that he was introduced to the stuff.

Fred and Mor kept trying to convince me it wasn’t my fault. Deng tried to tell me it was stupid to carry all that pain on my shoulders, saying Tomas was an adult who made his own decisions. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had done and what it led to.

Who was Tomas to me? He always treated me like a brother, craving some kind of family out here on the streets. I had never really clicked with him the way I had with Fred and Mor. I definitely didn’t treat him like an older brother. Hell, I don’t think I even really treated him like a friend.

And that thought stabbed me in the chest.

I had never really been there for him. Now that he was gone, I started scrutinizing all my interactions with him. Would he have reached out to me in the past two weeks if I hadn’t been busy with my heist preparations or shut up in my apartment? Could I have stepped in and stopped him from wandering off to Kabuki to find a glitter dealer? Could I have done anything to ensure he was still around?

I spent hours on the couch, barely listening as Deng, Fred, and Mor chatted and shared stories about their time with Tomas. Sometimes it felt like they left openings for me to interject and share my own experiences. But instead of talking, I just sat back on the couch and listened. And thought.

He’d been kidnapped in Kabuki. Fred and Mor had always warned me about going into that neighborhood alone. That never sat well with me. In the game, Kabuki was relatively safe for V. Sure, there were Tyger Claws around and a few missions that took you over there, but it wasn’t any more dangerous than other Night City neighborhoods.

So what had twigged Fred and Mor’s danger sense so much that they’d push me away from Kabuki? Scavs? I tried to remember all the Scav haunts from the game. There was one on the rooftops of Kabuki, I think. And then there were the Tyger Claws. But they shouldn’t have been messing with Tomas. They weren’t as violent to the homeless as Maelstrom was.

And then it hit me. Kidnapping people in Kabuki. Disappearing those who nobody would look for. Who could do all that and operate out of Tyger Claw territory?

Jotaro Shobo.

I stewed in my own anger for the rest of the night, convincing myself that one of the worst monsters in the game had kidnapped, tortured, and killed Tomas.

I waited until most of the attention in the alcove wasn’t on me and then quietly slipped away. I turned the corner and dialed a number that had been in my contacts for the past two weeks. A few rings later, she answered.

“Mr. Batty. You’ve been curiously absent for the past two weeks. I thought as soon as I let you know I had work, you’d be banging down my door.”

“Yea, sorry about that. Had some stuff come up.” I paused, unsure of how to proceed.

“You called me.”

“Mm. Yea. Looking for information. What would that run me?”

“Depends. What kind of information?”

“I need to know about a cop. Think she works the Watson beat. Her name is Anna Hamill.”