I always did like fishballs. Especially spicy ones.

No, there isn't a big philosophical journey I'm currently working through. No deep dive into my personal motivations or any examinations of how the comfort foods of home turned the dark future into something just a bit more bearable, though that was self-evident. I was peckish. I was getting bored waiting. So I bought spicy fish balls, fuckin' sue me.

[Effect Blocked: Minor Food Poisoning]

I chewed on another rubbery bite as I looked over the Kabuki Roundabout, keeping an eye out for the people I'd be hanging out with for the day, taking in the view as I did so.

It was a bit like somebody had decided to take your average roundabout and imbue it with the quintessential qualities of a chinese market, along with all the glitz and glamor that the future ought to have. All around the edge of the roundabout were street stalls and hole-in-the-wall places selling foodstuffs of mostly asian styles. On the walls of the central building, neon wire letters and signs lit from within signified the identities of countless shops and services, while above the entire ensemble was a cylindrical screen showing slowly rotating advertisements. Cables hung from the central tower, the low-tech, cheap and efficient solution seemingly the only thing grounding it in the poverty of Watson.

It, and the rest of the Kabuki district by extension, had in it many qualities I appreciated about Cyberpunk overall. The neon. The chrome. The human soul under it all. It was a nice middle-ground between the insane displays of wealth, power and arrogance that the most powerful of Night City presented and the ruins they left of the people in their way.

It also had a great deal of goods and services that I only had some amount of scratch for, but that would have to wait. I spotted a particularly memorable yellow jacket moving through the crowds, and I waved its owner over.

David Martinez

Edgerunner

Lvl 21

A little wary, but not paranoid. Part of Maine's crew, kind of like an intern. Chipped in a piece of cyberware that lets him hit way above his weight class.

David approached with a guarded look on his face while I finished chewing and swallowed. "S'up?" I announced.

His face scrunched up. "Sup?" He echoed, obviously confused.

"Oh, you know me. Doing my part to ruin the English language in my everyday war against meaning." I paused. Well, I was certainly coming off way too weird way too early, wasn't I?

"I don't know you. At all, actually." David answered.

"Sounds like a problem." I offered him my hand. "Razzle."

He looked at my hand like it was a poisonous snake for a short while. When I didn't retract it, he took it and gave it a brief shake. "David." He looked me up and down. "I didn't take you for coming from a corpo family."

I shrugged. "What makes you think I did?"

"Only time I've seen anyone offer a handshake when they first meet up face-to-face is in corpo circles." David stated, looking vaguely wary.

I raised an eyebrow. "Ain't this our second time meeting?"

"That doesn't count." David scratched his cheek, looking thoughtful. "What was that, by the way?" At my look of confusion, he elaborated. "The whole... 'Aether' thing."

"Oh." I'd totally forgotten about it. "Your voice just reminded me of someone. That's all." It was true, in a sense. What went unmentioned was that "someone" was fictional. Except maybe not. Like David had been. Except he wasn't.

I did not want to think about it. So I didn't.

"Uh huh. And that someone's named like a corp?" David sat down, putting his hands in his pockets and raising an eyebrow.

"Nobody picks their names. Except for people who do. Like me." I said, gesturing towards myself with a small grin.

David seemed to have nothing to say to that, so instead he decided to busy himself with looking for the third member of our little get-together.

The silence between us stretched for a while, neither of us saying anything. I found myself reflecting on how goddamn weird it was to talk to someone who you saw die, even if it was on TV.

David Martinez, the boy with a higher tolerance for cyberware than most, who'd chipped in a Sandevistan from a cyberpsycho and, after about six months of mercenary work and tragedy, would end up giving his life buying time for his friends to escape. A walking, talking and now breathing cautionary tale about the dangers of ego and what Night City's legends really were.

Lucky until they weren't.

In some ways, I felt like an intruder just sitting next to him. Like I was trespassing in someone's yard. It wasn't like Night City was anybody's turf, except maybe Saburo Arasaka, it just felt strange that I could just... do something about the events I'd seen. Whenever I wanted.

It also felt strangely irksome that, despite all my current strength, he could probably kick my ass in a literal instant, but that was the difference between me, him and a thousand other mercs in Night City. He was chipped in. I wasn't. Though, that was going to change sooner or later.

"So-"/"Hey-" The both of us began, just to stop as we realized we were interrupting the other. I looked at him. He looked at me. I pointed at him and raised an eyebrow. "You go first?" I said without speaking.

He gave a wince. "Eh..." He stalled.

I just shrugged. "I'll go, then." I communicated, before opening my mouth. "So." I muttered, before pausing. I really hadn't thought of a topic before opening my mouth. Probably a bad idea, but c'est la'vie. "If you could be a tree. What kind of tree would you be?"

The look of David's face cycled from uncomprehending to confused to flabbergasted as I broke down laughing, my terrible sense of humor sending my sides to orbit. "...What?" He hissed, exasperated and vaguely concerned as he watched me absolutely lose it.

I barely managed to seize control over myself as I heaved with laughter. "Ah... sorry. Just- I couldn't help myself. The look on your face. Pfft-" I snorted, shaking my head.

He seemed caught between taking offense and asking if I was okay, but he was interrupted by a yell from some distance away. "David! Raz! You made it!" Rebecca cheered as she walked over, hopping onto one of the seats. "You guys already having fun without me?" She said with a grin as she folded her arms behind her head, leaning against the food stall and completely ignoring the look the stall owner gave her. Offhandedly, I noted that there was a monster of a gun strapped to her back, almost as large as she was.

"Some idea of fun." David muttered, as I took deep breaths.

Rebecca gave me a questioning look, but I waved it off. "So." I said, before pausing. "Yeah, I've got no idea what to say." I racked my brain, going through all of my social experience. "I did my first job the other day. With a fixer and everything." I finally managed to offer a topic of discussion.

"Hey! What'd I tell you?" She grinned, offering me a fist bump which I took with a grin. "Knew that a fixer would notice you sooner or later. Congrats!"

David just blinked as I went from deranged meme-loving idiot to vaguely functional psychopath in moments. He seemed to want to say something, but thought the better of it. I offered an apology in the depths of my mind. It had just seemed so funny at the time. Now there was an awkward air between us. Oh well.

Instead, I focused on Rebecca. "Yep. Regina Jones gave me a call outta nowhere right after I finished up with a Maelstrom squad trying to drag me off the streets. Wanted me to handle a Scav den, so I walked in with a Defender and plastered them all over the walls." I grinned, but then my thoughts drifted to the other guy I'd seen, and my grin flickered and died.

Rebecca noticed the look on my face quickly. "Did somethin' else happen?"

My face went neutral as I looked away. "Found out that I wasn't the first guy that she'd called. There were a whole lotta organs, and an agent they hadn't wiped yet. Dug into it and found out that Regina had sent in another guy the other day. Got literally torn apart." My stomach failed to flip, but there was still a sickened feeling. I looked at the rest of my fish balls, before setting them to the side. I grimaced as I turned to look back at the two of them. "Saw a bundle which I'm pretty sure were his limbs, just... tied together and wrapped up with a garbage bag."

David looked faintly disturbed, while Rebecca just shrugged. "But you handled it, right?"

"Yeah. Just... it's kinda fucked up, seeing what could happen if I mess up, you know?" I explained.

Rebecca gave me a grin. "Seems like you need a choom to watch your back. Or your pieces, if it ever comes down to it. Tha's all."

I shrugged. "It's Night City. Trustworthy people don't exactly grow on trees around here."

Rebecca raised her eyebrow at me.

"What?" I paused. I thought about what she'd said. "Wait, was that thing earlier an offer?" I asked, slightly incredulous.

"Eh." She made a so-so gesture. "If you get a gig and you don't think you can cut it, I'll watch your back! For a cut, of course, but still."

"I thought you already had a crew. Not that I'm saying no, of course." I hastily added on at the end.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're stitched together, you know. Not all of us get brought in on every gig." She folded her arms. "So if I ain't got anything on..."

"Fair enough." I tilted my head as I thought it over. On one hand, a possible witness to my out-of-context superpowers, on the other hand, somebody to trade small talk with on the job. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Just that I got nothing on my plate at the moment."

"Give it a few days. Any good fixer knows that mercs need steady work." Rebecca hopped off the seat. "Wanna get going?"

"Sure." I bit off the rest of the fish balls on the stick and gestured for her to lead the way.

David got up, hands still in his pockets. "Where's we going first?" He asked, glancing over to Kabuki Market.

"Straight Shooters." Rebecca gave the two of us a vicious grin. "It's time to get the two of you some real iron."

----------------------------------------

The three of us stood at the shooting range as Rebecca grumbled to herself, kicking at a few stray casings as David and I watched her work out her frustrations. David winced as he pulled up his pant leg, while I kept a side eye on my health bar as it slowly ticked back up to full.

We'd gone into Straight Shooters, only for Rebecca to start us off by trying to buy us a trio of Defender LMGs. Apparently, "real iron" to Rebecca meant enough firepower to mow through a small army. David's concern that he couldn't lift the damn thing and my argument that I already had a Defender had gone completely ignored, not that it mattered, because the store owner made it clear that he wasn't going to sell to a "trio of street punks".

Things had quickly gotten heated, and when I noticed her hands inching towards the inside of her coat, David and I had promptly traded a look, picked her up by the arms and walked down to the shooting range in the basement as she yelled death threats and kicked at our shins.

Eventually, Rebecca gathered up her self control and heaved an aggravated sigh. "'Kay, so we're not gonna be getting the two of you some real firepower. Sure. Fine. Just fine." She tsked, "The two of you at least brought your iron, right?"

"Yeah." David pulled out an automatic handgun, while I drew my revolver wordlessly. Then, we both turned to stare at each other's guns. "...A revolver? Really?"

I held up a finger. "Yee, and I cannot stress this enough." I lifted the second. "Haw." I shrugged. "Besides, you're using a Lexington. You got nothing to stand on."

He gave me a challenging look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're firing rounds that barely do anything? Seriously, what's 9mm going to do in Night City?" I said incredulously.

"And six shots is all you need on the streets?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Aim at the head and you can generally take someone out of the fight." I pointed at his gun. "You shoot that at Maelstrom faceplates and all you'll hurt is their feelings."

"Not if I shoot them from the side!"

"But why use a gun that makes it so that you have to take a goddamn hike to use it-"

There was a loud bang as a bullet zipped through the space between us and struck the wall. Simultaneously, we turned to look at the spiderweb pattern spreading outwards at the point of impact, before we turned to look at Rebecca as she raised an eyebrow at the two of us. "We good?" She said, cocking her gun.

"Yeah, totally fine." I said, giving a thumbs up.

"No problem here." David gave a forced grin, throwing a hand over my shoulder.

"Don't see even the slightest issue with the Lexington. None whatsoever." I added on, throwing my hand over his shoulder in turn.

"Yeah, and revolvers are totally preem!" David threw in with a vigorous nod.

We both forced some laughter. Rebecca snorted, seemingly satisfied. "Alright. Now com'on. Let's see what you're made of, eh?" She gestured at the range.

I considered it for a moment. A plan quickly sprouted up in my mind. "Actually, can we make this a competition?" I suggested. "Set some stakes on it."

"What kinda stakes?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. "Some cash, maybe? Just a hundred eddies or something."

"That little? Why even bother with a prize, then?" Rebecca goaded. "What? Don't think you can win?"

"I see the game you're playing, Becca. I'm not putting extra in the pot. Hundred if I win. Hundred if you win. Fair?"

She grinned. "Fair."

It was not fair.

The "competition" was an insult to the word. I'd known she was good, I hadn't known she was 'hit the bullseye on every target while dual-wielding pistols in a single pass' good. In the time that it took for me to reload, she'd hit every target in the range three times over.

The only thing that kept me going throughout the minute-long match was my rapidly rising scores.

[Dexterity: 41 > 42]

[Handgun: 15 > 16]

Rebecca was good. Much better than I'd anticipated, and as a result, my [Martial Talent] had kicked in with a vengeance, doing its best to try and catch me up to her level. Of course, I was nowhere close, considering the fact that we'd only gone head-to-head for a minute, but I was that little bit closer, and that was what counted.

I briefly considered asking for another rematch, before shaking the idea out of my head. Didn't want to seem like a sore loser, and there would be plenty of opportunities in the future. "Alright, yeah. You totally beat the shit out of me. Here."

I pulled a bill from my pocket, which Rebecca took with relish. "Easiest hundred eddies I've ever made."

I rolled my eyes in good humor, before looking past her and seeing David standing there with his Lexington in hand, finger on the trigger, looking focused. Rebecca noticed my staring, and turned to look at David as well.

We both watched as he took several deep breaths, his grip tightening more and more as he stared down the sights. He breathed in deep, but he didn't fire. Instead, his hands began to tremble.

Eventually, he let out a sigh as he lowered the gun, setting it down in front of himself. There was a look of frustration and melancholy on his face that Rebecca winced at, before she turned to look at me with a smile that looked somewhat forced. "SO! Why a Nova, of all guns?" She asked loudly, catching David's attention.

I blinked and scratched my chin. "Well, I wanted a revolver first and foremost, I guess. And the Nova was the only one sold nearby. I'd take an Overture if I could find it, but so far, no dice."

"You're not gonna find iron like that just lying out in the streets, Raz." Rebecca tapped her head with the barrel of her gun. "If you want an Overture, you might as well buy one. I'm pretty sure this place sells 'em, too."

I shook my head. The guy upstairs probably wasn't going to sell to me after all the threats Rebecca had tossed his way, and honestly I just didn't want to deal with that awkward situation. "I'm trying to save up for chrome." I stated. "The Nova's working out fine for me thus far."

"Maybe for now, but do you have anything that can get through Subdermal Plate?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Just saying, if it comes down to it, an armor-piercing .42 can get through where a Nova can't. And compared to, say, a Nekomata..."

"It'll actually fit my budget." I muttered, thinking about my arsenal for a moment. I had Tacticians, Copperheads, a lot of Pulsars, Novas, and one poorly-maintained Defender. Fact was, most of my guns were guns that either relied on small calibers and large volumes of fire, thanks to my looting of gang members. As far as I knew, getting through armor was generally a matter of piercing it in one go, not shaving away at it with attritional fire. I just didn't have many good answers if I ran headfirst into a cyberpsycho, or somebody with a Metalgear on.

The idea of paying money for a gun when I already had so many rankled me, but that was an emotional reaction, not one based on logic. I could sell some of my extraneous guns off and make up the difference, probably. Just had to find a buyer. Maybe Regina could find a place for them?

Still, I had one final concern. "But Maloran's got a rep, hasn't it? Wouldn't that mean that every gonk off the street's going to try and take it off me?"

Rebecca gave me a blank look, and seconds ticked by as she seemed to think over her response. "David. What do you do when some gonk walks up to you and asks for your gun?" She finally spoke up.

David blinked in surprise at being addressed. "Uh, tell them to piss off?"

A bullet slammed into the ground at our feet, David jumped in place with fright, while I blinked, a deer in the headlights. "You do that. Or you aim a little higher." Rebecca stated, a serious look on her face as she addressed the both of us. "You can't think like that if you want to get ahead, you know. You can't just be dangerous, you have to think dangerous. Act dangerous. If you don't, then every gonk on the street is going to try and bend you over."

I glanced at the bullet on the ground. Think dangerous. Terrible advice in nearly any other scenario, but when trying to be a mercenary in the deadliest city in the world... it made sense. Probably didn't mean that I had to act like a psycho, just that I couldn't be a pushover in any sense of the world. I ran the thought over and over in my mind, considering it, before setting it to the side for the moment. "Alright. Shoot the fragger. I'll keep that in mind." I gave a firm nod.

"That being said, are we done here? Since, you know..." I jerked my head over to David, who still seemed somewhat lost in thought. It seemed relatively clear that this wasn't his sort of scene, but there had to be shops that the three of us could find interesting together.

Rebecca gave it a moment's thought, before a grin broke out on her face. "Hang on. There's one more thing I wanna try before we go." She unslung the monster of a gun from her shoulder, there was a look of delight on her face as the stock hit the ground with a thump that seemed to cause a quake. "Wanted to get you used to firing this, first. Then we can try out the other stores."

The shock to his system seemed to shake David out of his trace. His eyes turned to the gun, and he blinked in surprise. "Wait, isn't that..."

"Yep! My special gun." Rebecca gave him a wink, "That needs no introduction." Wink. "Whatsoever." Wink.

I gave it a once-over as I picked it up, the pale green weapon with streaks of pink colored much like its owner. It was a massive shotgun that I would have struggled to even lift it only a week ago. As I currently was, it was an awkward weapon to bring to bear.

Guts

A heavily modded Budget Arms Carnage. It'll wreak bloody havoc, though it can be a little unpredictable. Much like its owner.

"Wait, I didn't know the Carnage was made by Budget Arms." I muttered, turning it over in my hands. "I thought you said that this gun wouldn't break if I smacked someone with it."

"Oh, don't worry. It won't!" Rebecca said with an easygoing grin.

I looked her in the eye with disbelief. "Becca, the guns they make melt if they're left out in the sun."

David blinked in surprise. "Wait, they do?"

"Yeah. Because they're made out of cheap plastic." I hissed, before turning back to Rebecca. "Seriously, is this thing going to fall apart in my hands?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Razzz." She drawled. "I have the best intentions, honest!" She insisted.

At my wary look. She put her palms up. "Really! I've used that gun a whole bunch. I've even had a techie tweak it a little, just to make sure that it won't fall apart on me. Because it's my favorite gun." She leaned on a wall with her arms folded, a strange grin on her face. "I wouldn't give you my favorite gun just so you'd break it, would I?"

I gave the Carnage another once-over as I thought about it. It was named, with flavor text and everything, so I doubted that Rebecca was exaggerating her history with this weapon, or her fondness for it.

Still, something about this situation seemed... off. David looked on with what looked like a genuine face of concern, while Rebecca seemed way too excited for the situation as it was.

...Whelp. Not like I could die from this, right?

"Fine." I walked over to the shooting stall, bringing the Carnage up to bear as I aimed at a derelict car that seemed to have been brought down into the range for testing purposes. I was faintly curious about what this beast of a gun could do, even from a distance.

I pressed the stock to my shoulder, and carefully took a stance with one foot behind me to keep me steady. I considered aiming down the sights, before I decided that I frankly didn't want my head anywhere near the thing.

I took a deep breath, let it out...

And pulled the trigger.

[Health: 613/640]

[Debuff Gained: Stunned]

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

[Debuff Gained: Bruised]

The noise was indescribable. Like a bomb had gone off right next to me. I found myself staring up at some indistinct gray surface, my ears ringing as a dull ache pounded my brain. I'd hit the floor, I belatedly realized. The recoil had sent me to the ground, and I'd banged my head against it. I was staring at the ceiling. I still had a grip on the Carnage, but there was a burning feeling spreading across my shoulder, my wrists and the back of my skull.

...The fuck even was that gun?!

A vague pale blue and green shape with red and yellow orbs loomed over me, and there was a sensation like hairs tickling my face, while a yellow and brown splotch came in from the edge of my vision. There were indistinct sounds that slowly but surely came into focus, along with the sight of Rebecca staring at me with a massive grin, while David let his hands fall from his ears with a wince.

I opened my mouth, and did my best to express my feelings about the sum total of the agonies that had been inflicted upon me. "Oof."

Rebecca began to cackle madly, and I snorted, beginning to giggle as I curled up, pain and amusement breaking the dam. David just sighed, giving two of us a vague look of exasperation.

"You took a Carnage and gave it even more recoil?" I barely managed, clutching my shoulder and my stomach. "The fuck?!"

"I know! It's amazing!" She barely managed. "Pilar thought I was insane, but he thinks I'm insane anyways. And look!" She held her arm out, and pulled me upright.

I looked at the car I had fired at, now a ruined shell of warped metal and holes. "The fuck went into this thing?" I breathed, staring at the wreck.

"Oh, just some elbow grease, a little sweat, a few dozen extra depleted uranium pellets." She grinned. "You like it?"

"Gonna take a rain check on that." I touched the back of my head, checking for blood. When none showed up, I gave a thumbs up. "Okay, it's awesome. Think your techie does commissions?"

Rebecca gave me a grin. "I'll put the two of you in touch." Then, her face swapped to a look of genuine concern. "Seriously, though. You okay? There's a ripperdoc just a few minutes away, if you need one."

I glanced at her, thinking about it. "You know what? Sure. Sounds good. A ripperdoc sounds great right about now." I got up off the ground, wincing in pain as I passed the gun back over to her. "You gotta let me try it again some time. Once I get my bones reset, or whatever."

"Sure, if you let me watch!" She said with cheer.

----------------------------------------

As it turned out, no, the store owner did not have any Overtures for sale, especially not for us. Maybe it had something to do with our antics scaring off a few customers, just spitballing here. But that didn't spoil our mood as we made our way to the nearby Dr. Chrome for a quick checkup, and to check out the stock.

"You seem fine. Didn't even dislocate your shoulder." The man in charge of the store muttered. He was a muscular fellow, with remarkably little chrome for a ripperdoc. In fact, I didn't even see the slightest sign of cyberware, only a gauntlet on his arm with some medical tools attached. "Try moving your arm."

I rotated the joint in its socket for demonstration. I'd taken a Maxdoc puff on the way, so I had few wounds to show. I'd still agreed to a checkup though, for appearances if nothing else. "Not feeling anything wrong with me." I muttered.

The man gave a nod. "You exercise?" I gave a slight nod. "The muscle helped absorb some of the impact. That meant that when you fired the gun, the impact spread out over your chest, instead of knocking your arm out of its socket." He stepped back. "Maybe don't do that again. At least, not with a souped-up Carnage."

Rebecca made a dismissive noise while I gave him a nod of thanks. "Let me know what I owe you. Also, mind if I browse your catalogue?"

The man shrugged as he returned behind the counter. "Be my guest."

I went over to where David sat, next to a panel installed at the front desk. Rebecca was watching the two of us from a couch further back with a wistful look on her face, while David glanced over to the ripperdoc with a look of interest. "Hey, if I wanted to get really good at running, what should I chip in?" He asked.

"Hard work and exercise." The ripperdoc's voice was firm and straightforward.

"I mean, besides that."

"I got nothing in stock that'll beat that." The man rebuked. "Or work with it. Your body, your mind, they all work best when they're in one piece. You start messing with synthetic musculature and redundant systems and you'll start throwing off your body's rhythm."

"Aren't you a ripperdoc?" David asked, looking confused.

"I am. More a doc than a ripper, but business with chromers is too good to pass up." The man offered with a shrug. I felt a faint surge of recognition. I think I met this guy in the game once. Felt strange to think about a living, breathing person like that, but that was isekai for you. "If you really need it, Syn-Lungs are your best bet, but I don't have any in stock."

"Right." David heaved a sigh, before turning to me. "You want anything?"

"I'll see if there's anything worth disappointing Mr. Armstrong over here." I said, sitting in the chair and looking things over. "Got any Sandevistans?"

The man's face was flat with disapproval. "Overclocking your nervous system for short-term boosts in speed and reaction time adds up. Like staying up late. You're borrowing from your future."

"Guessing that's a no." I muttered, turning the page. "But you do have a Kerenzikov." I noted, looking at the option hungrily.

The Sandevistan and the Kerenzikov. The two pieces of cyberware I'd had my eye on for as long as I'd been in the Dark Future. They were known as Speedware, cyberware that could boost the speed of your thoughts, your reflexes, your body, making it seem like the world slowed all around you.

The Kerenzikov was a permanent reflex booster that let one react to and even dodge incoming bullets, though it affected your body to a lesser degree due to the strain it would put on your body otherwise. The Sandevistan on the other hand had no such limit, but in exchange it was a temporary boost that lasted somewhere from a few seconds to a full minute, depending on the brand, before shutting off to let the body destress itself. As a side note, David had slotted in one of remarkable quality if the footage I had looked up of cyberpsycho rampages was anything to go by, not that he had mentioned it to me thus far. His kitsch coat did a good job of hiding his replacement spine, and I doubted I could justify bringing it up to him as we currently were.

Maybe one would wonder why one didn't chip in both at the same time. After all, if having one piece turned you halfway into a killing machine, having both would turn you into a combat monster, right? The answer was simple; the result was almost invariably cyberpsychosis. The jury was still out on whether it was due to built-in incompatibilities between the two types of speedware, the human brain simply not being meant to go that fast, or how your perception of people changed when you were capable of moving and thinking so quickly while they seemed to be standing still. Like living in a world of statues.

I suppressed a shudder at the thought, turning my mind back to the panel in front of me. "So. Kerenzikov. How about that?" I asked, giving the man behind the counter a questioning glance.

"There's nothing to recommend." The man stated. "I've had plenty of customers come right back to me a few days after, begging me to take it out. They can't handle it when their bodies refuse to catch up to their minds." He gave a shrug. "But sure. You can give it a shot."

I tilted my head at him. It seemed insane that the guy who was so adamant about not chipping in cyberware would even offer this in his clinic, considering the danger it inherently posed to one's mental state, but now that I thought about it... "Just spitballing here, but I don't suppose that anybody who asks you to chip this in usually ends up swearing off of speedware forever when they come back, do they?"

"I wonder." The man shrugged, the very picture of indifference.

"Clever." I begrudgingly conceded. "Well, if that's going to tank my humanity score, then how about..." I flipped through a few tabs, and stopped at another piece of cyberware that had caught my eye. "Subdermal armor?"

"Slotting in armored plating under the skin often makes one uncomfortable in their own body. Your arms and chest bend and flex differently, and when you touch yourself, it's like touching concrete. Or metal." The look in his eye was serious as he stared at me. "It's apparently quite disquieting to experience first-hand."

"Is there anything that you'd actually recommend chipping in at all?" I tried to keep my exasperation in check. Honestly, he was being a real help, but I'd like to indulge in being a part of the future to at least some degree. If I was going to suffer through visibly insect-based protein and a complete lack of clean water, I wanted something to show for it. "Anything at all?"

"It sounds like you're chipping in for the sake of it." He noted, neutrally.

"I-" I shut up and looked at him, my mind blanking for the moment. Was I?

The idea was stunning. And concerning. I felt the thought turning itself over in my mind as I sat there, rubbing my chin.

Cyberware. Cybernetics. The technology of enhancing the human body, pushing the limits of what humans even were. I liked the idea of it, the concept of going beyond my own limits. Of becoming something better. But now that it was possible, it came with real risk and concerns. It meant introducing things into my body, it meant turning my body into a thing that wasn't familiar to me.

Not like my body was familiar to me at it currently was, though. I had been brunette. I was now blonde. I had been lean. Now I was built. I used to have two eyes. Now I have one. In some ways, I felt like an alien in my own skin.

...Maybe I ought to hold off on cyberware for now. Get used to my new normal. Or at least think about it a hell of a lot more before I started adding more in, after all, not like my eye was going to grow back, and if I was going to be running around with a mechanical eye, It was going to be the best eye it could be.

But eventually...

Active Quest:

Welcome to Night City

Conditions:

Enhance yourself with half of the eight types of Cyberware. [ ]

Reward: Transhuman Heritage - First Augmentation (Cybermorph)

I wanted that power. I wanted to stay sane. I'd have to be careful, balancing going after the former with keeping a hold on the latter.

"Raz?"

I jolted, turning around to see Rebecca and David looking at me with both confusion and concern. "You good?" She called out from her spot on the couch.

"Yeah. I'm fine-ish." I breathed in and out, looking over at the store-owner with a newfound respect. "Okay, cards on the table. I've already chipped in to some degree. Got a cybereye and a cyberaudio suite." I explained, gesturing across my body. "I'm trying to not go off the rails, you got any advice on that?"

He regarded me with an expression I couldn't identify. "Don't look like you lost an eye by accident." He noted.

I shrugged. "Seems like a decision that can't be walked back."

The man hummed as he nodded thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke up. "Those wouldn't affect your mental state too much if you don't load up on features you don't need. You're a merc?"

"On the path to being a Solo, yeah." I answered.

"Dangerous." The man noted. "But I don't decide what you do with your life. There will be people telling you constantly that you need to be chipped in to get ahead, to stay in the game." He looked me in the eye. "They tell you this because they want to sell you something."

"He's right, you know." Rebecca came over, clambering onto one of the seats and giving me the most serious, sober look I've ever seen her wear. "I can't count the number of people that have told me to pick up ballistic coprocessors or smart links just cause I handle guns all the time. What you saw back at the range?" She held her hands up, showing me the lack of cyberware in her hands. "All skill. You don't need chrome to be a merc."

I stared at them both, before I nodded. "Right." I got up off my seat, "Well, it seems like there isn't any other reason for me to stick around then, since I'm healed and all."

"Seems not." The man nodded.

I felt a tight cord in my chest loosen as I looked back outdoors, to the trash filled streets. "Let's vamoose, then. Rebecca, have you got any other stores in mind?"

Rebecca perked right back up, "Well, if we're done here... One more bit of advice, from choom to choom." She pulled me and David in with a devious smile. "In this business, it doesn't matter how well you do something, you gotta look good doing it, too. Your clothes? Your looks? They're everything in the Edgerunner crowd."

"It's rule number one," She explained with a theatrical wave of her hand. "Style over substance."

I thought about her advice for a moment. "...Wait, wasn't that just a long-winded way of calling my fit mid?"

----------------------------------------

David hadn't been sure what to expect, at first. The time they had spent talking the night they first met made it hard to judge Razzle to any degree, but he had seemed quiet. Calm. Maybe a little lacking in self-control, but he was new, so that sort of thing was expected, right?

When he'd introduced himself the second time they'd met, memories of Katsuo had flashed through his mind, and he'd been ready for Razzle to show himself to be a sneering jackass with a chip in his shoulder.

Instead, he'd been... weird. Like right now.

"We don't sell ponchos here." The lady at the counter said with a frown on her face.

"But you sell cowboy hats?" Razzle said with a look of genuine offense on his face, the effect muted by the somewhat out-of-place headwear he'd thrown on without even a word. Moments later, he seemed to grapple with his expression, forcing it down and replacing it with a smile. "Actually, that's fine. You got a mirror somewhere I can use?"

The lady behind the counter pointed over to the side, and Razzle glanced over before giving her a thankful nod. Right as he was about to leave, he turned back to the lady and opened his mouth to speak, only for the lady to interrupt. "We don't have boots with spurs, either."

The genuine disappointment on Razzle's face caused Rebecca to break down laughing, and David couldn't help himself as a smile grew on his face. When Razzle glanced back at the two of them, he quickly perked up, looking happy at their reactions as he walked over to them. As he did so, he snapped his fingers at the two of them, his voice coming out in a strange drawl. "Howdy."

Briefly, David's gut flipped as the smooth tones of his voice seemed to roll through David's ears. That voice had to be chipped, there was no goddamn way his way of speaking was natural talent. Sometimes, it was more intense, and sometimes it was barely noticeable, but that unmistakable sense of honesty and sincerity was always here.

David took a brief glance at Rebecca, wanting to make a comment, only to quickly look away at the sight of the downright depraved look on her face. Nope, he didn't want to think about why her expression was that of when she was dual-wielding Pulsars. Or when firing a Kolac. Or using Guts on a gig. Or when playing with any other iron bigger than she was. Not at all.

Meanwhile, Razzle seemed to be having fun, taking a stance with his hand on his holster, before he seemed to think the better of it. "Right, probably shouldn't mess around with quickdrawing in public." He muttered, shaking his head. He glanced over to David. "You gonna get anything?"

He shook his head. "I'm good, thanks." He liked his current look. Every part of it felt important to him. Felt right on his back. Maybe he'd make some changes later, but he doubted it would be anything big.

Razzle tilted his head, regarding him for a moment, before he seemed to catch himself and nodded. "Fair enough."

"Hey Razzle, say something else!" Rebecca goaded. "Do it just like you did just now!"

He grinned, before taking another pose, one hand in his pocket and the other pointing at them as he thrust his chest out and gave them a stern look from the side. "やれやれだぜ." / "What a pain."

David blinked incredulously as his cyberware fed him the translation. "What kind of cowboy speaks japanese?"

"The kind who's only move is to hustle." Razzle replied with complete seriousness, the absurd, nonsensical statement flying right over David's head.

Another thing he'd quickly realized about Razzle was that he seemed to be overflowing with in-jokes and references that only he understood. Or at least, he was pretty sure they were references. Sometimes he wondered if Razzle made all of it up on the spot. At this point, David simply nodded along no matter what he said. Floor was made out of floor? Made sense. Third-rate gonks with fourth-rate cyberware? Guess there were. Japanese cowboys who could only hustle? Just another Razzle thing that probably happened.

Razzle snapped his fingers, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Though, I'll need something else to complete the ensemble, gimme a sec to pay for this. Mind if I pick the next store?"

David gave Rebecca a look of confusion that she returned, before she looked back at Razzle and shrugged. "Sure, where're we headed?" She asked.

"The time has not yet come." He suddenly uttered in a deep, baritone voice as he waved his hand, before turning around and walking out of the store.

David stared at the exit as Razzle walked off, before he heaved a sigh. He'd seemed so normal at first, and in a strange way, he still sorta was. There was an air of humor about him, but he'd seen him set it aside a few times to talk about serious biz, like iron and chrome. And when he did, he seemed thoughtful. But then he'd spend the next ten minutes messing around. That being said, he did seem to try and reign himself in sometimes, but it was happening less and less as the three of them hung out more and more.

That moment at the ripperdoc stuck out to him, however. All the way up to that point, Razzle always seemed to have something to say. Some sort of quip or in-joke or reference to toss out. But when he'd been asked about why he was chipping in more cyberware... silence. He seemed outright lost.

And in a way, David got it. He didn't have any backups or anyone to turn to. If he got left behind by the rest of the crew, that was it. He'd have nothing. That kept him moving. Driving him to catch up, whatever it took.

Razzle didn't give that vibe. He had a chipped voice, seemingly just for the hell of it, and the way he presented himself had none of the hard edges that Maine, Dorio, Kiwi, Lucy... or even Pilar had. He didn't seem pressed for cash or fame or anything in particular. There was nothing driving him. Not like David.

He was nice to talk to though, and not just because of his chipped voice. There was a genuine sense of care that he wore on his sleeve like a skinwatch. There was still a sense of awkwardness between the two of them, but David was pretty sure that Razzle was doing what he could to involve him, in his own unique way.

"Well, we should probably go after him." David mentioned. "You coming, Rebecca?"

When he didn't hear a response, he glanced to his side. "Rebecca?"

Rebecca was frozen in place, a thin line of drool slowly making its way out of her mouth as her eyes refused to blink.

David briefly considered prodding her, before deciding against it. Instead, he got up as Razzle came back in. "Hey, you guys coming or what?" He asked.

His voice seemed to shock Rebecca out of her daze. "Bwuh? Wuh?" She blinked, looking all around as she blinked, as if suddenly woken up from a nap. "Yes!" She said with a grin and a thumbs up.

"...Okay." Razzle looked a little freaked out, not that David blamed him. His voice seemed to turn mostly normal for a change, which was probably for the best. David didn't want to see what would happen if he'd kept it going for the rest of the day. Or if he'd turned it up like he had moments ago.

Though, when they entered the shop Razzle had been looking for, David wished that he'd kept it on to some degree, if only to keep Rebecca from freaking out so much.

"WHY A KATANA?!" Rebecca demanded, throwing her hands up.

"Because I might run out of bullets! Or have to reload! Or maybe someone will run up on me and stab me in the dick! It's Night City, you have to be prepared!" Razzle defended himself, stepping around Rebecca as she tried to block his path to the counter.

"Then buy another gun! Or mod it! Or hell, chip in gorilla arms!" Rebecca pulled at her ponytails in frustration. "Why does it have to be a sword!?"

"Because it's practical!"

"IT'S NOT!" Rebecca yelled. "The only reason to buy a katana in Night City is to fit in with the TC! That's IT!"

David glanced over to where a cop patrol was slowly approaching. "Hey, guys?"

"Look, just because the Tyger Claws are filthy fucking weeaboos doesn't mean they get to ruin katanas for everybody!" Razzle fired back, sounding genuinely enraged.

David honestly wasn't sure what that word even meant, and honestly he really didn't want to acknowledge the possibilities. "Hey guys!"

"What does that even mean?!" Rebecca threw her head back, her face a rictus of frustration as her hands clawed at the air.

"What it means is that only half of them are Japanese, if even that! And most of that half weren't even goddamn born in Japan! They're glorified weebs!" Razzle shouted, his face one of abject disgust.

"AND NEITHER WERE YOU!" Rebecca lunged for the box with the katana within.

Quickly, Razzle lifted the box over his head, holding it out of Rebecca's clutches. "LET A MAN DREAM, WOMAN!"

"GUYS!" David yelled, smacking Razzle on the shoulder as the man tried to keep Rebecca from climbing up his chest like an angry cat. Razzle spun around, about to yell something back, only for his eyes to bug out as he saw the cops coming in quickly.

"Fuck! Delta!" Rebecca yelled. And they promptly started hightailing it, with Razzle carrying the box under one hand and Rebecca under the other. His hat flew off his head, only for David to snatch it out of the air as they ran.

It took David a moment to realize that Razzle was laughing his ass off.

It took David another moment to realize he was doing the same.

Yeah, he was weird. But the good kind of weird. The kind that told the world to eat your dust.

The Edgerunner kind.

----------------------------------------

"Whelp." I muttered, giving my new katana an appreciative once-over as I took it out of the box. "Guess I'm never going back to that store ever again."

The three of us were recovering from our chase in a trash-filled alley somewhere on the border between Northside and Kabuki. Except for us, the place was completely deserted. It was rather unpleasant, but we wouldn't be disturbed. Though, I was pretty sure we'd lost the cops a few blocks back. Barrels filled with burning trash helped illuminate the poorly lit alley, while the air buzzed with insects.

Rebecca made a noise that was something between the growl of an animal and stones grinding against each other from her place, flat on the ground. Her mood still having not even slightly recovered. "This is dumb. We ran from the pigs for a stick."

"A very, very cool stick, I assure you. The only way this could have been better is if I literally found it on the sidewalk." I nodded sagely as I strapped the katana to my waist, before I stopped. "Wait, fuck. I think I forgot my hat."

"S'all good." David gasped, passing me my missing hat. "Picked it up before we ran." Then, he slumped back over.

"Ah, thanks." I picked it up, doffed it, and put it right back where it belonged. David gave me an envious look that I blinked at. "Hey, you had plenty of opportunities to get your own hat."

"Wha-? No, it's just... how long have you been running?" David asked, still panting.

"Uh." I looked down, suddenly feeling somewhat bashful. "Technically only for a day." I stated.

David shook his head. "I mean, how long have you been running for? You barely seem winded."

Oh. "Oh." I muttered, as I realized what he meant. He was gasping for air, while I had been carrying Rebecca and the sword with me as we ran and I was still relatively fine. I looked away awkwardly, "...Not long enough." I admitted.

It was probably silly to feel undeserving of my musculature, considering all the other unfair bullshit that I'd been stacked with, or that this was all vital in the long run to keeping me alive in this hellhole of a city, but I still hardly felt like I'd earned it.

David just looked at me weirdly but decided not to comment, and silence settled between the three of us as we each recovered in our own ways.

But as I waited for him to recover, I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, like a cold finger running up the back of my spine. At first, I thought that it was a trick of the senses, only for it to happen again. The third time, I straightened up, glancing around.

There was a strange feeling in my gut. A sense of anticipation slowly began to grow within me, and I found myself starting to walk. "Hey guys, gonna go check something out. Might be a moment." I called back.

Following the sensation was a bit like playing a game of hot and cold, I took a few brief steps down one direction, only for the sensation to grow weaker. But when I doubled back, it grew more intense. "Raz?" Rebecca spoke up. "The fuck?"

"I'm getting in touch with the inner fifthteenth indotribe." I said, like that explained anything. The expression on Rebecca's face made it clear that it didn't. "Now gimme a sec."

The way the alley was shaped made it easy to follow the strange gut feeling all the way to its source. There were only a few turns to take, and once I made a few mistakes, it became easier and easier to pin down the direction I seemed to be pointed towards.

The source made itself known to me quickly, there was the sound of shouting, and I stepped around a corner and squinted past the burning wreckage of a car to see what appeared to be an altercation between a squad of four Maelstrom thugs and two random civilians. The two were kneeling on the ground as the lead thug smacked them around, backhanding one of them to the ground as the others stood guard, keeping an eye out.

For a brief moment, my hand inched towards my Nova, before I heard the sound of a pair of footsteps coming towards me, and I forcibly relaxed. "What's going on?" David muttered as he came closer, but his eyes widened as he took in the scene.

Quest Found!

Assault and Battery 2: Electric Boogaloo

Whelp, looks like those wacky borgs are back at it again. You know what to do.

Reward: 3000 EXP

I grimaced at the sight of the window popping up. I'd suspected that my system had been changing, growing stronger and more flexible as time passed and I kept growing, but this clinched it. Previously, specific skills had failed to appear when I'd expected them, only to manifest despite me doing the same thing at a later date. This was different, though. I'd never been pulled in a specific direction by gut instinct. I was pretty sure I'd been directly brought here by the system, something unlike any other quest I'd experienced. Shame that it had to happen at the most goddamned inconvenient time possible.

Crime was an inescapable fact in Night City, whether it ranged from gang violence to corporate espionage to interpersonal theft to government corruption. People could run into trouble in every corner of the city, no matter who they were or what they did, and if they didn't have the firepower or the muscle to handle it, that was that. You would be another score on the Bodycount Lottery.

I'd run into a couple of these situations during my time here. The first time had been the one to get me hunting in earnest. I still distinctly recall taking a look at the agents of the dead victims and the perpetrators after the fight and discovering that the scene had been the result of a manhunt for somebody who had blown the whistle on Maelstrom activities. Apparently, the cops had offered witness protection, and then they simply hadn't bothered, leaving the man for dead when Maelstrom came.

It still rankled me to think of, like this scene rankled me to look at. But there was an issue. I was with a group. We were having a day out, and I sure as shit wasn't getting them involved in a firefight for no reason in particular.

I released a sigh and turned to look at the other two, only to pause. Rebecca was watching the scene with a neutral, almost casual look on her face, with her arms behind her head, but David was staring at the scene with an intense look on his face. His fists were clenched in a white-knuckled grip that shook a little.

"Hey, David."

David's eyes snapped towards mine as I tilted my head at the ongoing beatdown. "Wanna get involved?"

"I..." He grit his teeth, glaring over at the gang members with a look of hate. "Yeah."

I took in a breath and concentrated, letting my energies flow through me. I relaxed and breathed out a sigh as I felt my skin firm. "Well then."

[Buff Gained: Iron Skin - Minor Armour Stack]

[Buff Gained: Concentration - Minor DEX Multiplier]

"Hey, the fuck you gonks looking at?!" The man closest to us yelled, beginning to walk towards us. He had a Pulsar submachine gun thrown over his shoulder, like a few other of his buddies who were turning to look at us.

I briefly considered the situation. We were right next to a corner that Rebecca and David could use for cover, and they probably had the combat experience to go for that, but just in case, I would make myself a target by throwing myself into the fray. A decision partially motivated by my desire to test my new sword. There were some barrels and car wrecks that they could use for cover, but of greater concern was the possibility of the leader taking the two civilians as hostages-

There was a loud bang as the man walking towards us went down, a spray of blood emanating from the new hole in his faceplate, and for a moment, David and I stared at Rebecca as she casually took aim at another Maelstromer and pulled the trigger, causing him to flop over as his body lost it's pilot.

And then I began to charge forwards, drawing my Nova in one hand and sword in the other. I fired a few shots at the center mass of a man lifting his Pulsar in my direction, causing synthetic white blood to spill from his gut as he keeled over, only for his head to then snap back as another shot from Rebecca ripped through his skull, before more holes presented themselves in his torso as she filled him with lead.

[+500 EXP]

Goddamn, she was quick.

One more Maelstrom began to run at me with- "A wrench? Really?" I snorted. There was no answer from the man as he dove at me, his synthetic voice screaming bloody murder. With the perfect opportunity having presented itself, I brought the katana to my other side and swung it as hard as I could.

The [Power Strike] landed perfectly, smashing directly into his ribcage and carving a wedge into his side, but as it continued through the man's torso, I heard a crack as the Katana met his spine. I blinked as I withdrew the sword, and saw that my factory new sword had snapped in half. "The hell?!"

[+450 EXP]

"The fuck kinda chinese knockoff bullshit is this?!" I demanded as I stared at the broken blade. I'd thought that Arasaka would at least have the goddamn decency to make good Japanese swords! Wasn't Saburo all about Japanese cultural and economic victories or something?

Katana

Manufactured by Arasaka, a modern blade made of modern materials. And by modern, they mean pouring some polymers into a sword-shaped mold. Isn't the future fantastic?

My head snapped up as I remembered that we were in the middle of a firefight. I swore inwardly as the one in charge leveled his Pulsar at the head of one of the victims as he began to yell. "Stay back! Stay the fuck back! I swear if you fucks so much as move a goddamn-" There was a yellow blur and a loud crashing sound as the man hit the ground, his gun and the hostage suddenly missing.

The Sandevistan. I know I'd sworn off of chipping in anything big for now, but seeing it in action really did make me regret that decision, if only just a little. I contented myself with the thought that any Sandy I could buy would probably be vastly inferior.

I raised my gun at the squad leader, but Rebecca beat me to the punch, disposing of the rest of her mag into his body before she reloaded in a snap.

[Quest Success!]

[Gained 3000 EXP]

[Level Up! You are now Level 12]

[You gained 5 stat points]

I glanced around, seeing David approaching while the man fled off behind him, his back a rapidly-shrinking speck. "Nice one." I complimented him, before turning to Rebecca. "And thanks for the assist." I added on.

David gave me a grin, while Rebecca folded her arms with a smug look on her face. "Just doin' my job."

I rooted around a little in the leader's pockets, before fishing his agent out. When it asked for identification I picked up the man's arm and placed his palm and placed it on the screen. Then, I began to dig through his contacts. "Huh. Well shit." I muttered as I checked the latest message.

"What's up?" David asked.

"Apparently the two guys we helped were being targeted for peddling glitter without giving Maelstrom a share of the cut." I noted with a frown. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that for all the monsters and psychos running around Night City, there were plenty of low-level pricks contributing to the problems as well.

David paused. "Wait, so we... shit!" He swore, turning around only to see that the duo had long since vanished around the corner.

"Just another dirty gig, David. That's being a merc for ya." Rebecca offered with a shrug and a sigh. "It's a bummer, but we got bills to pay. Speaking of bills..." She turned to look as I dug the man's wallet out. "What's the bonus?"

"Hundred-forty-five." I muttered, rifling through the bills for appearances sake as I simply read the item description. "Fifty, fifty, forty-five, and the forty-five goes to me?"

Rebecca grinned. "Sure."

David seemed a bit more put out, but he took the cash anyway.

"Oh, and by the way, Rebecca?" I stated, and she perked up with a grin as I lifted the broken blade. "You know what? You were right. Katanas suck. From now on, when it comes to business, I'm sticking with longswords."

I couldn't help but cackle at the utterly wretched look on her face, though I could have done without the damage that happened to my shins afterwards.