I first met Mack when I ‘stole’ his gun. Figured he’d be an easy mark and looked rich with how confident he looked. Saw my chance when he wasn’t looking and swiped his gun. It wasn’t long before he noticed me and started the chase around Kabuki.
Ended with me getting caught resulting in a fistfight. Those cybernetic arms he had honestly packed quite a punch and if I wasn’t using mana then my arms would be broken by now. Of course, I lost but something surprising happened.
He offered me a gig. Said that my skills were a waste on the streets and that I could make some real money. Sounded too good to be true but as a sign of respect, he’d let me keep his gun. And if I didn’t want to work with him, I’d give it back or something.
Honestly, my trust in this city is worthless. You never know if the person sitting beside you is out to kill you or about to kill you from a firefight. I’d rather keep my abilities and life as close as possible to ensure maximum safety. But the thought of earning more eddies made me consider it.
Eddies are eddies, after all. And I need a whole lot.
So we agreed to have me do a couple of gigs and see where it goes from here. My ticket toward bigger stacks of eddies is on the line here.
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Home is where the heart is, that’s what people usually say. No matter what, the place you call home will always be special to you and you only.
Well, it ain’t special but it's home I guess. This small apartment is connected to a building near Allen Street, practically flooding with Tyger Claws but if you know the right building then you get no business with them.
One of the more prevalent gangs here in Night City is the Tyger Claws. They are practically the Yakuza, Japanese Hitmen, with tattoos, style of clothing, masks, bikes, and other minor stuff. The point is that you don’t mess with them, or any other gangers. Not only that but if you live in one of their territories then you pay them some protection fee for ‘safety’.
And yet I still keep seeing Maelstromers lurking about.
The group that kidnapped me when I first got here. More machine than man, those cyborg assholes will kidnap anyone and just outfit them with more chrome than necessary and have them join because no one will take victims of them. Mainly so that they don’t become victims themselves.
I shake my head away from these thoughts, I need to prepare for the gig soon. The apartment I’m living in has no rent, on account that the manager of this place moved out and only left me and a couple of residents here.
Because of that, this place has no electricity or water, and it's dirty as all hell. No one with half a mind would consider this a livable situation.
Fortunately, magic saves the day yet again.
With some… measures in place, this place is running autonomously regardless of its connection. This is my first act of kindness in this city and I prefer it benefit only me.
“Hey, sugar. Looking to unwind some stress?” A sultry voice made me turn my attention towards a scantily clad woman wearing almost next to nothing, accentuating her body and chrome legs. Her neon pink makeup and voice made her sexy to anyone with fewer brain cells.
“Sorry, Lizzie. Not now.” I responded. The hooker, names Lizzie sighed before opening a cigarette pack and lighting it.
“When will you? I don’t like owning favors for long. Are you secretly gay?”
A brief chuckle, I shook my head. “No. Got a gig soon so I need to be on my A-game right now. But who knows, maybe after this?”
A smirk was strewn across Lizzie’s face as she brazenly walked towards me and pressed her body at my chest. “Hmm… Well, that's an idea. I like my boys happy, up here and down there.”
Her cologne wafted to my nose and the smell was nearing my breaking point with this woman. I may be a loner back then but I was still a man. My virginity was already taken by her so I know how she works and it still annoys me how good she turns my switch on.
And just then, she stepped back and took another drag from her cigarette. “But I won’t mess with your first gig. Do it well, and you can mess me up however you want. See you later, Deusy.”
Lizzie walked down the hallway, swaying her metallic hip along the way which had me turning already. Damn woman and their sexy appearances.
Anyway, I opened the door to my apartment and took in the place. It was small with one big room meant as the living space and two other rooms as the bedroom and bathroom. Apart from a few tables and chairs, it was very barren but the place was my own.
I had no plans on making this place my actual home, maybe as a safe house in case, but I just needed some rest before the actual gig. I made a straight beeline towards the shower, taking my clothes off and simply letting the cool water stream down my body.
“Haa…” A sigh escaped my lips and I felt my mind wind down a bit. It still feels so surreal, to be here and living in a world where technology thrives and I have magic. Now that I think about it, this is my blank slate of a person. An adventure of my own in a new world, with a power unbeknownst to anyone.
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I should be having fun and fulfilling my fantasy in this world. And yet, I can’t seem to have the drive for it. Is it because of my first day here? Do I still have some leftover trauma from Maelstrom? Admittedly, they didn’t do much apart from verbal and physical abuse, not much different than my old life. Sure if it weren’t for Elpis then my mental state would be a whole lot worse.
But I know the answer. This common answer practically tells everyone why I make the choices I make, why I feel this way, and how I see everyone in this city.
Fear.
Eventually, I stopped the shower and put on some fresh clothes nearby. Magic is a cheat skill, in a world of technology. With a simple wave of my hand, my clothes are cleaned and dried, and ready to be used. I took inspiration from Black Clover with Yuno’s magic skill and needless to say, I never spent a single enny on laundry.
Being fully refreshed and dried, I decided to waste time tinkering with the pistol I stole from Mack. Bringing up my inventory and selecting the weapon, I was greeted with its info sheet.
“Power pistol… Liberty… Constitutional Arms.” Looking at the pistol, it’s a custom job. With a unique engraving, customized grip, longer clip, and scope.
I grabbed the gun from my inventory and held it in my hands. It is very heavy so any normal person would have difficulty holding the gun, cumbersome to fire it as well. Fortunately, with mana constantly in my body with every breath I take, natural strength ensures I am at my peak so wielding this gun takes no effort.
I did notice that the handle has a string of letters spelling out a name. “Mercy.”
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Mackinaw, otherwise known as Mack, let out a puff of smoke coming from his cigarette. He leaned against the rails with his back on Night City proper, its neon lights and sounds illuminating the background but never distracting him on the gig.
Professionals need to be alert in their environment, no matter how safe it appears.
Mack started this business roughly 20 years ago when he was just a kid fighting for eddies and surviving 2 pandemics. His parents were survivors until the bird flu of ‘59 caught them in their sleep. So he’s been on the streets since, finding ways to survive, and through teeth and nails, he survived.
Now, he is a well-respected solo in the Afterlife and his bank accounts have never been higher. He had enough money to retire and live a good life, away from it all and just dying of old age. But this line of jobs was his calling, his purpose. The money part is good, but the thrill of being in a firefight was when he was at his best.
What was supposed to be a day off for him turned into one of the longest runs of his life when he met the street kid who klepped his personal iron without him knowing.
Admittedly, his detection skills could use some work but that is why he was the muscle of any group and gunman as well. But the kid, Deus he called himself, was a prodigy in the making.
Despite no chrome on his body; he nabbed his iron, ran all across Kabuki, and even fought him against his Gorilla Arms. No one could do what he did and Mack made the choice.
He would take the kid under his wing, see what he could do with such fresh talent, and maybe he’d ride higher than he ever would.
Mack checked the clock on his eye implant, noticing that it was nearly time for the trade. He quickly sent Deus his location and waited some more. Taking in another drag of his cigarette and blowing out smoke, the intoxicating tobacco and other synth-flavors he could taste filling his mouth and synth-lungs.
He soon finished his cigarette and heard footsteps from behind. His first instinct is to reach into his iron, a Nue, and aim at the gonk. But the voice stopped him.
“Hey, Mack. Are we good for the gig?” The kid, Deus, asked. Honestly if he hadn’t chipped in that neural port then Mack would have guessed the kid was rocking a pair of Lynx Paws and Reinforced Tendon.
Mack nodded and aimed his head to his left. Nearby was a warehouse cloaked in darkness with no one nearby. “Meetings in there. The signal is “It was very cloudy today, wasn’t it?” Got it, kid?”
Deus nodded. “OK, so we covered how this meeting would go. How it would end. And the variables that could happen? Any tips in case this whole exchange is a trap?”
Mack nodded. Deus had a point, that this whole exchange felt somewhat sketchy. A high profile rank of Militech, decided to have a conscious and stole valuable data and not expect punishment? In this city, there are no happy endings.
“Run like hell. Don’t look back and keep running. Gangoons and cops are one thing but Corpo’s will want you to die. At least we’re dealing with Militech and not Arasaka.”
Mack is good at a lot of things and kills a lot of people. Arasaka ninjas included but they were undeniably one of the toughest fights a solo like him could win. His Gorilla Arms was a testament to one of the conditions.
“Even if I leave you behind?” Mack nodded. “Guess Night City is like that. I hate it here.”
“You and me both kid. Now, get going.”
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The minutes ticked down, a little past the required meeting time but both mercenaries stayed cool. Keeping to the shadows, Deus waited from the rooftop and stared at the inky black sky of Night City.
Because of the smoke, lights, sounds, and other pollution this city has, star gazing has been next to impossible to see. Not even sound is safe because he can vividly hear the numerous advertisements going off near him.
Deus sighed before remembering an important detail in this gig. He grabbed his phone and dialed in Mack, who answered instantly.
“What’s up? You see him?” Mack’s gruff voice told Deus he was equally annoyed by the late arrival.
“Nope. You sure Dinger chose this specific warehouse instead of others nearby?”
“Pretty sure. Sent the pic and everything.”
“Including deadline?” A scoff was all he needed to hear. “Anyway, that’s not why I called you. I wanted to know the location of this fixer at Westbrook. The specifics, I mean.”
“Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Figured I’d be with you to deliver as well. But sure, just in case. She’s over at Jig-Jig Street, running the pachinko parlor. Ask for the ‘Lady of Westbrook.’”
“Jig-Jig street… that’s where most of the joytoys hang around, right?”
“Oh, a connoisseur huh? I didn’t take for them to be your type.” Mack’s teasing tone was only met with Deus’ rolled eyes.
“Got a friend who works there. Says the money and location are good. Is she a Tyger Claw boss or something?”
“Something like that. You best meet her yourself for answers. The less you know, the better.”
Deus’ nodded, letting out an approving grunt. “Hrm.” That was when his [Mana Sense] detected someone coming nearby. He looked toward the person's location and noticed that it was heading towards the warehouse. “Hold up, Mack. Think I found Dinger.”
“You sure?”
“Probably. I’ll go check.” With that, Deus cut his connection and moved.
To ensure he didn’t break his neck, Deus covered his legs with mana for increased pressure and strength so that he could make long jumps and take landings well. Along with masking any sounds coming from his soles for increased stealth.
He parkoured nearby and took a peek to find a hobbled man in drabs, clutching a high-end laptop while looking around in a frenzy. Deus took a picture with his phone and sent it to Mack.
[Hey Mack, this Dinger?] His text message was sent while keeping a close eye on the suspicious man. His phone buzzed on his hand to take a look at Mack, is that he confirmed the identity of this mysterious man.
[Yep. That’s him alright. Are you gonna take the kill or wait for him?]
The choice made Deus hesitate a little. After the Maelstrom kidnapping and escape, he was sure he wouldn’t kill again. Incapacitate maybe but murdering was the last thing he wanted to do.
His skills were all meant for defense, a couple of offense sure but it was only meant for defense and utility.
But who knows what would happen if he hadn’t killed? The victims that would be on his conscience if the killer was set loose again? The moral dilemma weighed heavily on his mind.
But couldn’t take the plunge. Maybe soon, but not now.
[I’ll wait.] That was his reply as he followed Dinger from above, away from sight and sound but keeping a close eye on his movements.
And that was the last choice he made, before deciding to kill.