Finding a specific hobo in Northside while going undercover was about as tough as I'd expected. That was to say, damn near impossible.

I kept scanning everyone I met and everything I saw. Sometimes, I saw Maelstrom members doing their own thing. Sometimes I saw their graffiti on the walls. Sometimes, my [Analyze] would inform me of a Maelstrom den, stash, or safe house. Those, I made a mental note of, but did nothing about. I didn't want to attract their attention after all, I just needed to find the one guy. A needle in a haystack.

There was the constant sensation of chills running up my spine, my strange sensing ability going haywire with the sheer deluge of things to do. Problems in the making to solve. Everything seemed to itch, even my palms. I tugged at the collar of my new jacket, letting some of the heat and the moisture out into the open air.

I'd decided to fully change my wardrobe for this undercover operation. A completely new set of clothes, something like the Solo that I'd met leaving Vic's clinic. I was wearing a trench coat with kevlar and plastic meshes inserted into the fabric, as well as a motorcycle helmet to hide my hair with. I'd kept the armoring light, but that didn't help the heat much, though thankfully I didn't sweat much over the course of my long search.

I was doing my best to emulate the look of the most stereotypical Solo one could imagine, a man with a shotgun slung over his back and an assault rifle under his shoulder. A man who was the center of the action. Trouble to mess with. I was hoping that it would dissuade any Maelstrom from walking up to me and starting a firefight I didn't want, and earning me the attention I wanted even less.

It worked, though I still occasionally caught sight of a rude gesture or jeer being thrown my way by Maelstrom members at a distance. I kept an eye on those ones until I was far away. Thankfully, they kept their distance.

It was my second day shaking Northside loose, trying to find the cyberpsycho, and so far I'd had no dice, not even a trace. The only reason I was still at it was because I had nothing better to do. Regina hadn't come back to me with another job yet, and working out simply would have resulted in constant thoughts about how I should have been doing this instead.

I knew it was a long shot, but I was hoping that I could solve this issue without any unnecessary expenditures. For now, my pools of both credits and points sat untouched, but I was getting closer and closer to just throwing my hands up and pulling the trigger on Plan B.

…Heh. Trigger.

I was seriously reconsidering my decision to not call Regina over this. I was pretty sure that she'd disapprove of me planning to kill the cyberpsycho. Whether it would be to the degree that she would call in another merc to stop me in my tracks, I didn't know. Not to mention the questions that would be raised on how I even knew about the cyberpsycho. If I also take into account the fact that she'd asked me to stay out of Northside? No, Regina couldn't find out about this. I would have to accomplish this by myself.

I was probably painting my own thoughts into a corner, deciding on what I wanted to do and coming up with reasons and justifications after, but I liked to think that didn't invalidate my reasoning. Of course, that didn't make my job any easier, though I was pretty sure that I still had plenty of time to search. The death would happen sooner or later, so I'd have to keep an eye on David and his crew to watch for certain signs of it happening soon.

A message on my agent pinged in my vision, and I shoved the spark of anticipation I felt as a result into a hole. I looked around for privacy and quickly found an alley devoid of any Maelstrom. I ducked inside before turning on the screen, taking a look at the message.

- - -

Raz: Hey, Archer. Had an idea. You mentioned you were training to be an Edgerunner, right?

Raz: Well, I just thought we could try training together. You know, kick each other into gear.

Raz: Lemme know if you're interested.

Raz: (In case you're wondering, I meant you, David.)

Message Sent, Yesterday at 3pm

David: sure.

David: chipped in some new chrome the other day, haven't had the chance to test it out yet, want-want to see what I can do. break some records.

David: also, what-what's up with the code name? what's it mean?

Raz: Projectiles.

Raz: Also, what is up with your meme of a sentence structure?

David: meme?

Raz: Fuck, David. Why do you gotta suplex my soul like that?

David: now who's messing around with structure? your school not teach you how to spell? your family? chooms?

Raz: Oof. Anyway, back to the True North of this conversation. Where do you want to meet up? I'm not exactly tied down, so I can just show up wherever.

David: know a place. megabuilding H4, 34th floor. can't be there all day, though, got a party with the crew after-afterlife again.

Raz: No prob. Be interesting to have somebody to talk to for once.

David: what? never tried it before? never had another guy keep you on track?

Raz: Never felt like it.

David: how about rebecca then? should we send her a line? see if she's up for it?

Raz: Archer, my fellow gyre of poor life decisions and chrome.

Raz: I say this with all the niceties I can manage.

Raz: Rebecca does not lift.

David: you don't know that. edgerunners gotta be runners too.

David: si-sides, she can lift that carnage of hers, right?

Raz: That is not her lifting, but a miracle of god. One of the last we'll ever see on his green earth.

Raz: You got the time for the meet?

David: yeah, think you can make it in an hour?

- - -

I grimaced. H4 was pretty much on the other end of the city, and there weren't any metro stations in Northside. I'd have to cheese it to the closest station.

- - -

Raz: I'll start making my way, but heads up. If I don't know the route, I can't guarantee the time.

David: just drop a line when you make it.

- - -

I shoved the agent in my pocket, before beginning a light jog. I took a look at the corner of my vision of my cybernetic HUD to time my journey, before I focused on the directions provided by my new eye.

It appealed to me to watch numbers rise and fall. The amount of time it took for me to do things. The amount I could do things. My levels. My stats. It was a simple and straightforward indicator of progress which spoke to the monkey with the dopamine button in my head. It had been thrilling at first. Now, all I felt was a slight buzz that could be described as satisfaction. One that I had to focus on to notice.

Maybe I could see it as me adapting to my new normal? My eyes roamed my surroundings, my 'new normal', and I couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement as I jogged past the watchful eyes of a graffiti mechanical spider.

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

I found myself staring at an advertisement as I waited in the elevator as it rose higher and higher. Screens were plastered everywhere in Megabuildings, but they tended to be simple things. Animated posters, in essence. More rare among their number were actual television screens tuned to specific channels.

For some reason, pretty much every elevator in Night City I had seen had an array of four television screens in them. Though, I'd only really seen elevators in the Megabuildings, so maybe that had something to do with it. Either they would be showing corporation propaganda on the news networks or product advertisements.

That being said, if they were trying to sell something to me, they were doing a remarkably poor job of it. There was loud moaning coming from the screens as they displayed a woman with only pasties, a leather harness and a set of cowboy boots and hat. 'MILFGUARD: Experienced cowgirls looking for stallions' the advert read. '25%: Scan for discount' was plastered next to some sort of barcode. There was also a disclaimer hidden behind the network logo that I couldn't read, because of course it would be.

The elevator door opened. "So, that's what you're into, huh?" David came up to me from the side, looking at me with a raised eyebrow as I turned away from the display.

"Fuck no. The costume is half-assed, the moaning is way too much, and I can see a goddamn c-section scar. The gun-heels are a nice touch, however." I admitted, "Of course, the EEZYBEEF advertisement right beforehand didn't exactly help things." That goddamn mascot man made out of sausages was nightmare fuel. I had no idea who thought that was a good way to sell synthetic meat.

I could appreciate the architecture of Night City. The aesthetics of borgs and guns and cyberware and even people. I even had a soft spot for the animation of the future, or what little of it I'd seen. The advertisements could all go straight to hell, though. Dump all of it into the trash. It reeked of something I had termed 'Fuck her, eat this, kill him' energy. Neat from a distance, and disgusting up close.

I still had no goddamn idea why so many adverts had close ups of naked fat men on them, and I didn't want to know.

"Never knew you were some sort of critic."

"Well, you know what they say." I said with a grin. "The less intelligent people are, the more opinions they have."

David looked at me weirdly. "I really don't get you sometimes." He paused. "Or a lot of the time, actually."

"It's humor." I shrugged. "Self-deprecating, but humor nonetheless."

"You gotta be the only guy I know that enjoys making fun of themselves." David muttered.

"Hey, so long as everybody else laughs with me, you know?" I said with a cheery wave.

"You ever hear me laughing about it?" David shot back. "Or anybody else?"

I paused, tilting my head as I rummaged through my memory. Ever since coming to Night City? "...Come to think of it, not really. But then again, you're kinda the only guy I've done this with." Maybe it was the crab bucket of a culture that Night City had. You had to be big or you were easy pickings. And if you weren't big, the next best thing was to act like it.

He looked briefly flummoxed. "Wait, ever?"

"In this sort of situation, I mean. The streets." I explained. "I used to have some friends who I could share this sorta thing with. Now…" I shrugged. "Well, let's just say they're out of the picture."

The look on David's face was decidedly uncomfortable. "Sorry to hear that."

I waved him off. "Eh. I've made my peace with it. And I netted some…" I stopped as I realized exactly what I'd just said.

Fuck, I should probably say something that doesn't sound like I killed my friends for stuff.

There was an awkward pause. "I mean…" I muttered, my mind desperately racing. "...Fond memories?" I finally managed, the statement coming more like a question than I'd like.

"Nah, I get it." David shook his head.

I blinked. "You do?"

There was a grimace on his face. "Got my sandy from my mom when she died. It didn't make up for it or anything, but…" He trailed off in sullen silence.

I gave him a rough slap to the back. "Hey, can't beat yourself up over looking at the silver lining. Otherwise you're just punishing yourself worse for being dealt a cloud." He stumbled, and I blinked in surprise as he was nearly knocked off balance. "Shit, sorry. Barely know my strength." I murmured.

"Ugh, hell of a time to find out." He muttered. "You've been juicing or something?"

There was a certain context to his question that one wouldn't understand if one weren't a Night City resident. There was a street gang called the Animals, who were generally obsessed with physical strength. Rather than chipping in linear frames or cyberlimbs however, they tended to instead focus on bioware, enhancements that messed with the body's meat rather than pushing in any metal. Vat grown muscles, along with endoskeleton implants and joint reinforcement to keep their bones from snapping themselves.

That, and their home-brewed steroids. Said to be a mixture of ultra-testosterone, horse growth hormones and god knows what else. The results were as spectacular as they were grotesque. Fittingly, they had termed it "The Juice".

I'd considered tracking down the substance for myself, but while I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to suffer from kidney failure or prostate cancer like some did, going bald just wasn't worth the risk.

"Been thinking about grabbing some extra grafted muscle, but I'm not risking the permanent erection from messing around with that." I shook my head.

"Not worried about liver failure?" He raised an eyebrow.

I cracked a slight grin. "I like to think that I'm a little tougher than that." I said with no small amount of relish. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have to worry about that ever again in my lifetime. Or any other part of my body randomly deciding to kick the bucket.

He just rolled his eyes. "There's no toughing out an organ deciding to call it quits, you gonk."

"Au contraire! I beg to fucking differ!" I gave a cackle. This was the goddamn best, why did I wait this long to make friends again?

Oh, right. Lack of people who would actually put up with my dumb ass. I shook my head with a sigh as my cackling died down.

"You look like a gonk, by the way."

"Mm." I considered insulting his fit right back, but held off. I knew the origin of that jacket of his, and I wasn't going to poke that piece of emotional baggage. If it was weird to talk to a guy who you saw die on TV, it was even weirder to talk to them while knowing about their sore spots before they even told you. In some ways, it felt like a cliff. Like I had an advantage, or something along those lines.

But friendships were bonds that were based, at least partially, on understanding, right? So I had a head start. No biggie, I'd just have to trade some of my baggage back over time. Even things out a little.

Also, there was nothing stopping me from dissing the rest of his outfit. "And your jays are fake as fuck."

He gave me a look that screamed tired. "That doesn't even mean anything."

"It means you don't shop Supreme."

"Yeah, yeah." When he didn't even respond, I stopped going. Hard to meme when I had nothing to bounce off of. "Saw you had a new eye, by the way." He said with a grin. "What kinda features has it got?"

I grinned right back as I pulled my eye open slightly, showing off the full design. "Scanner, zoom, and security cams can't see my face."

"Preem." He grinned. "Didn't hear you mention any weapons, though. And with that crosshair design?"

"My gun is the weapon. And I can get a laser installed later." I was still smiling as I let my eyelids go. This was part of the reason I'd wanted to meet. To show off a bit to somebody who 'Got it'.

Rebecca wasn't interested in chrome, at least not like David and I were. It was something we shared, an appreciation for the functions and aesthetics of cyberware. The future in us. I hadn't realized it at first, but we'd shared our thoughts on that sort of thing plenty of times by now, and on this we shared the same braincell.

Cyberware was cool.

Shame that it'd end up killing him, if I didn't do anything about it. And possibly driving me insane, if I wasn't careful.

Then again, who knew if what I'd seen of the future was for certain? Sure, my knowledge of Night City lined up pretty well with everything I'd seen so far, but there was always the possibility of my own incomplete knowledge or fallible memory screwing with me.

…Maybe I ought to implement Plan B soon. Just to be sure.

"Crap." David suddenly muttered, stopping in place. I turned to look, and saw a group of grotesquely muscular men and women up ahead, pumping iron, spotting each other, and generally making use of all kinds of gym equipment. Some had synthskin that was patterned after animal patterns. Some had tattoos that I could barely make out through the rashes and bulging veins. One even had a jaw that had been remodeled to look like a beast's. Animal members. "Guess it's occupied." He grumbled.

I scanned the gym, before spotting something. "Not all of it." I pointed out a punching bag hanging at the corner of the gym, seemingly going unused.

David didn't even bother to speak. Instead, he just gave me a dubious look.

"Okay, hear me out. You have a sandy, so you can get out whenever the fuck you want, and I can run really good, and push comes the shove? I'm armed." There was a grin on my face. "No problem."

"Except the obvious one. Seriously, you want to work out that badly?" David stared at me incredulously.

My grin waivered. "I mean, I am kinda naturally lazy. If I don't hold myself to a routine, I slip. Then, I forget I ever had a routine in the first place. Don't want that ever happening again, now that my life's in my hands, you know?"

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"Hell of a routine." He shook his head.

I paused, looking over in the direction of the gym. Of the Animals. I saw two of them in a boxing ring, duking it out. Fists collided with tensed, burgeoning muscle and stopped dead. I could almost see the impacts cause shockwaves in flesh and air.

The thought that these were opponents that were vastly superior to me in strength, in hand to hand combat, ran through my brain. The thought that if I were in that ring, sparring against one of them, I could finally get a hand to hand skill, maybe even some levels in it. The idea that if I refused to use guns, maybe I could gain some more EXP out of it. Maybe even a quest. I remembered there being a quest in the game that was just going around, looking for boxing rings and fighting people in them.

Then, I quietly considered my thoughts. I considered the outcome that I wanted from this encounter. I thought about how ready I was to jump into fisticuffs with a crew of thugs with biceps larger than my head, while somebody that was at risk was right there.

This was different from before. There was nothing going down that we needed to put a stop to, not like the incident with Maelstrom.

"I need to get the fuck outta here." I muttered.

"Huh?" David looked surprised.

I just pointed off to the side. "Let's go. Somewhere else. C'mon." He stared, but acquiesced as I turned around and began to walk away.

I didn't really have a location in mind, I simply started to go where my legs took me, up and down staircases. Through passageway after passageway. Stalls, shops, people and features seemed to pass by in an indistinct, grayish blur as we wandered.

I kept quiet all the way through, thinking about how best to change the subject. Maybe his new chrome? Hadn't asked about that yet. "So, you mentioned you chipped in some cyberware? On that text message?" I started us off, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Syn-lungs, yeah." He said, before he simply stopped talking.

"Oh, for stamina." I tilted my head, thinking about its applications. "You know, I can kinda see how that'd be helpful. Throwing fisticuffs in slow motion, that has to tire you out really quick. The sandy doesn't speed up your blood or your lungs, so you just gotta go for the next best thing and make 'em better." I nodded. "Yeah, it makes sense."

He blinked, before thinking for a moment. "...Sure."

I considered his clueless expression, before I gave a smirk. "You didn't even think that far, did you?" At his sheepish look, I shook my head. "Okay, real reason, then."

"Edgerunners gotta run sometimes, right?" He shrugged. "Don't want to fail a gig because I can't catch up."

"Can't you just fire the Sandevistan if you want to chase a guy down?" I pointed out. "I'm pretty sure you move faster than cars when you use that thing." Then, I considered the fact that we were out in public. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that out loud in a place where anyone can hear, but still."

He considered that. "Huh. Yeah, you probably shouldn't." He shrugs. "What's it to you, anyways?"

"Just trying to make conversation, that's all."

"Well, why don't we talk about back there with the gangoons?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I looked at him in silence for a brief moment. "Okay. I'll drop this topic if you drop that one, okay?"

He grinned. "Deal."

As we walked through the stream of people making their way through the megabuilding, I simply appreciated the hustle and bustle for a while. I glanced at everything, from screens to people to shops of all types. "So you mentioned you were going out to celebrate a gig?" I finally spoke up.

"Yeah. Wasn't there for it or anything, but last night the crew managed to klep some data from Biotechnica. Some sorta design documents or something. It was late, so they decided to have the party today instead, and they decided to invite me along." He gave a grin. "Sipping drinks at the Afterlife already. Gotta be some kind of record."

I rolled my eyes. "Success isn't measured in the things you do, but the money you make from it."

He grinned. "And that's why you can only afford one eye?"

I snorted in amusement. "Piss off. Besides, bars aren't my scene anyways. I'd rather be living somewhere without any bugs. Or eating some real goddamn food. Or…" I paused, thinking about it. "Having a jacuzzi."

"Is that another made-up word, or some kinda reference?" David asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" I turned my head to give him a confused look. "No, it's a type of pool where-" He snorted, and it took a moment for me to realize why. "You fucker!" I jabbed a finger at him. "You dare turn my own spells against me?!"

David just broke down laughing, and I waited for him to stop with folded arms. "So that's why? Couldn't handle another Buck-a-Slice so you decided to live life on the edge?" He said as he wiped away a tear.

"Not really." I workshopped my answer in my head for a moment. How to explain the fact that I grew stronger with every death in terms that would make sense, and not seem too crazy? "It's the gangs." I finally said. "The way I feel, things like Maelstrom, Scavs, there's nothing good about them. You can play Devil's Advocate for the Tyger Claws, maybe. The Animals. Sixth Street Gang. Valentinos. Voodoo Boys. I mean, they're gangs," I said upon noticing David's scrunched up face. "But taking them out would destabilize things for the communities they serve. Or that's the theory, anyways." I shrugged. "Hard to tell whether or not they actually give back anything to the people they fuck over."

"But Maelstrom and Scavs don't have that. They're bastards, plain and simple. I only hesitate to call them evil because I don't think ontological evil actually exists." At least, not in Night City. "Just different kinds of people. Now, deciding your group's going to be the kind that yanks people off the streets to cut to pieces… even if some may be forcibly recruited… that marks you in my book. Makes you part of a problem that people can do without." I explained.

A look of realization crossed David's face. "So that's why, it's not about the money, but the city?" He said, smacking his fist into his palm.

"That's part of it. As it turned out, I was pretty good at killing people." Perks of having the ability to take bullets and keep trucking, and an endlessly rising physical base. "And it's like… if I'm going to be doing it anyways, why not get paid for it?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Gotta eat, right?"

I shrugged. Technically, the money I raked in just for being a beneficiary of the company was enough to feed and shelter me, along with a good deal of other things. The buying power of it just wasn't enough for the kind of food and shelter I wanted, though. "And then it kinda hit me. I'm getting better and better, so the money I rake in will get better and better, and if I do it long enough?" Which was pretty much guaranteed, given the fact that I was goddamned immortal. "Boom. Living the high life. Of course, there's a lot more steps between, but that's the gist."

"So you want to be one of the best of Night City? A legend? Is that it?" David said with a smirk.

I couldn't help but grin at that. "Sounds like a fine thing to me. Though…" My smile lost its luster, as I thought what that would mean. "Corps would want my services, won't they?"

"Huh?" David blinked.

"You know. Arasaka. Militech. They'd want me on their payroll." I said, turning away from him. "Could always use another borged up lunatic to fill graveyards on their orders, right? And of course, fuckers won't necessarily take no for an answer." I snorted. "And that's not even mentioning all the bodies I'm going to have to stack on my way to the top. If I kill enough Maelstrom? Scavs? They won't stop coming after me until they're wiped from Night City. And if I do that? The other gangs are never going to stop looking for leverage on me either."

"And let's say I get my hands on enough chrome to actually pull it off, to turn Northside into a stinking charnel pit. No more Maelstrom. What do you think the NCPD is going to think?" I said, suddenly turning to David.

He just stared at me. "Uh… that you're dangerous?" He said, hesitantly.

"Yeah. Because I'd be running around with enough chrome to wack out any gonk off the street, so obviously I'm just another cyberpsycho in the making, and I better pay their therapists a visit. Make sure I'm on the up and up. Maybe get a fucking tracker too, just so they know what I get up to." I spat out. "And don't even get me fucking started on the media. Fuckers will always reporting on how this is ga-huh-reat for Arasaka! Or Militech! Or some other corp that's spread out over the globe like some sort of garbage bag. You know we got a town in Antarctica just nine years ago? Of course, the only goddamn reason we're there is so that they can drill for fucking OIL!" I hissed.

I was gesticulating wildly, now. "And all the way up to the fucking top, I'll be chewing on fucking insects and rat meat, which might taste fine! Or maybe even great to my taste buds if I put in the goddamned effort to learn how to cook, but it's still fucking insects and rat meat!" I snarled. "And when I get to the top? What changes? Nothing! Just my position on the shitpile that used to be planet fucking EARTH!"

I jabbed my finger at the ceiling in a wroth. "And MEANWHILE, in the fucking stratosphere are dickheads just waiting. Waiting to fire their shiny tungsten rods at whoever if they so much as think of pressing the big red button, which dickheads down below are down to push anyway because things clearly aren't bad enough already! After all, if the President of the NUSA and their board of directors-slash-congress have a literal hedge maze and fucking poodles for everybody then things can't be that bad, can they?!"

I stopped.

I looked at David's stunned face.

I looked at the people around us. There were looks of concern, but everybody was just… getting on with their day. Hurrying to wherever they were needed.

I looked back at David, who was now sporting a more complicated expression. "Raz…" He started off, and I winced at the naked concern in his voice. "You good?"

I just sighed. "Better." I admitted. Hadn't wanted to get all that off my chest, but what's done is done. I shook my head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have exploded at you like that."

"It's all good." He said, his brow furrowed making clear that it wasn't, in fact, all good, but I accepted the polite fiction for what it was.

We kept walking, but where there was a companionable silence, there was now a stew of feelings I didn't want to even think about. I breathed in. And I breathed the bad out. And again. And again. Until all that was left was a headache.

"So, if you don't want to be on the top…" He asked. "What's your dream, then?"

I snorted. "Cause everybody in Night City has a dream, right?" I gave a slight grin. "Well, everybody does, I guess. Not just in Night City." I muttered, thinking it over.

David kept quiet, and I used the time to think. Before everything, before Night City, my wildest fantasies always had two things in common. Immortality and planeswalking. The perfect combination for a life of neverending adventures, from worlds of dragons and dungeons, distant futures, eldritch locales and more. People and cultures, who were as vibrant and myriad as the lands I'd travel to. Monsters to slay. Lives to save. Always a difference to make.

And I sorta had that, didn't I? I was immortal, now. And though the progress on my exit was as slow as molasses, it was slowly rising. And it certainly wasn't like there weren't monsters here. Or people. Or vibrant places that I could stare at in awe. Just… I had to dig into things more. Make friends. Hunt for psychopaths of all stripes. Earn enough or kill enough to carve my place in the glitzy high-rises. Except that would put a target on my back.

"I love Night City." I said aloud. "I hate it, but I love it, you know." I wiped something from the side of my eye. "It's beautiful. Part of it's the corps, of course. The gangs, too. Wouldn't have the graffiti, or the architecture otherwise. There wouldn't be gold-plated runway models if there weren't gonks ready to shell thousands of eddies for tickets to see them. It's all a part of the city. The ecosystem."

I looked at David again. This time, I couldn't decipher the expression on his face. "If I had to say a dream I had… it'd be sorta like what I'm living right now, you know? Just with better food, honestly." I sighed. "I guess I'm just worried about what it means to live it."

I paused. And silence dragged on. Fuck, I was making it all about me, wasn't I? "What's yours?" I asked suddenly, my pep not quite the same as it was earlier in the conversation.

David looked flummoxed, whether it was due to my sudden change in attitude or the question was anyone's guess. "Mine?"

"Yeah. Your dream. Let's hear it." I said, jabbing him in the side with a slight grin. "C'mon. I poured my heart out back there, the least you can do is reciprocate."

He just stared down at his feet, thinking to himself. I gave him the time that he gave me, surveying our surroundings with vague interest. "...I'm not sure." He muttered, eventually.

I nodded. "Fair enough."

He looked at me with a wince. "You're not mad or anything?"

"Why would I be mad? I'm not sure about my dream." I waved a hand. "Sure, I had this whole spiel and everything but… people are complicated. This is all stuff that I'm thinking about, but I don't know for a fact what it means. Maybe it is my dream. Maybe it's a little bit more complicated than that."

"You're not sure?" There was disbelief in his voice now. "You just went on a giant rant about corpos and gangs and street food and you're not sure about any of it?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure about that part. I don't like that stuff, simple as." I scratched my chin. "I'm just not sure about how I want to handle it. About what I want to do yet."

David seemed to fall deep into thought as I did the same. We both just stared ahead of us, thinking to ourselves.

Technically, I was doing something about it right now. By killing gang members and doing jobs, I was accruing power that I could put to use later. Not just personal 'I can kill everyone in a room' power, but economic power as well. Diplomatic power. I was forging ties with the city's underworld, and through it, the entirety of Night City. Everything was shades of gray here, after all.

Of course, it was only a speck compared to the wealth and influence wielded by people like Saburo Arasaka, but it was something, and it would grow greater and greater as I worked at it.

Not like Arasaka became a Megacorp overnight, right?

"Hey. You want to come to the Afterlife with me tonight?" David suddenly offered. "Rogue is cool, she'll probably be fine with it. She was fine with me."

I was dumbstruck at the offer at first, but as I put more thought into it, I couldn't help but give a wince at the idea of the crew's reaction. Among other things.

On one hand, I kinda did want to keep on hanging out with David. On the other, I did have that Cyberpsycho to hunt down. Not to mention that Lucy might be there. And I sure as fuck didn't want to add fuel to her paranoid fire. The sussy fucking baka. I snorted at my own thoughts, and then sighed. My sense of humor was… something else. Right. David's offer. "Nah, I wouldn't want to crash the party." I waved it off. "It's a crew celebration, right? Gonna be weird if you grab a merc from outside for this little shindig. Especially if they've got nothing to do with the job."

"Yeah, but… you sure?" He asked. "Rebecca's okay with you, that's gotta mean something."

I shook my head. "I don't want to cause any rifts. Especially since I'm not planning on getting tied to any crew, you know? We could just hang out again later. Or I can call you in on a job, maybe. Though it'd be hilariously unprofessional to mix the two together."

David raised an eyebrow at me. "Raz the professional."

I gave him a straight-laced look. He gave me one back.

We broke down in our own ways, with David snorting loudly and me giggling like a lunatic. "I swear, I'm a functional mercenary. I only meme on Tuesdays!" I chortled.

He rolled his eyes. "Bullshit, I bet you're having the time of your life. Telling your jokes to Maelstrom goons before you blow their goddamn heads off." I winced, and he pointed at me. "You're not even denying it!"

"I try to be respectful to the dead and dying, you know." I blew him off. "People are still people. Suffering is still suffering. Stress just gets to me sometimes, that's all. Got to relieve the tension."

"Says the gonk who wants to fight a whole pack of Animals with a revolver."

"Piss off." I muttered. I'd totally win, too. I'd take a whole licking as a result, but I was pretty confident in my durability.

He just shook his head. "Well, I gotta go. The commute takes a while, you know?" He said with a grin, holding out a fist. "Catch you later."

I gave his fist a bump. "Will do."

He gave me a wave goodbye, and I froze as I saw the emblem on his back. Newly painted, it had to be. I didn't remember seeing it on him before. Green paint, with a symbol consisting of a Stylised E and R.

The sign that it was now possible. That Pilar could be killed.

Fuck. It was a party. At the Afterlife. Of course, why else would David's crew meet the cyberpsycho in Northside? If they were in Watson for a party at the Afterlife, then they would all be there together as a crew. And… and it didn't matter the reason why they would be together.

I was certain now. It was tonight. I had to pull the trigger on Plan B now.

I whirled around, heading for the nearest elevator. It was too soon. My stats hadn't hit the point where I'd wanted them to be yet. I was mostly ready, but not entirely. I could feel the pressure on me now, like when I'd left an assignment to the last moment, but way more intense, because there wasn't just a life, but a friendship on the line.

But despite the pressure, the stress, the worry that somehow I would fail despite my plan, I found myself grinning, my heel bouncing against the ground as I waited for the elevator to descend.

Finally.