I was practically vibrating with delight as I crept into my apartment in Megabuilding H11 in disguise, walking into the corner that the toilet occupied and looking around, paranoid of hidden cameras, or windows. The journey and the jostling of the crowds had done nothing to reduce my excitement all the way here. I'd kept careful watch for followers, security cameras, and anything else that would notice me on my way to my home. I wanted to be completely private for this. No one could see anything. No one could know anything. And if anyone did see anything, they'd simply see me playing with my agent for a few minutes before leaving.
Justifications and reasoning tumbled through my mind like rain. I ought to do this. I wanted to do this. I had to do this. For once, my desires and my needs had reached a perfect parallel. All I had to do was follow through. I ran through my course of action one more time in my mind, not to check for points of failure, but to justify it to myself again.
The cyberpsycho needed to go. I couldn't find the cyberpsycho as I was. Ergo, I needed a power that would let me find the cyberpsycho. Logical, straightforward, and all the better in its simplicity.
This had been what I'd been saving up for all this time. The moment I ran into an issue that the current me couldn't solve with dire consequences, I would finally spend some of my reserve of Credits. My Skeleton Key solution. My quicksilver bullets.
On one hand, I'd hoped that I could save them all for the next world, in case defenses or other things turned out to be vital. On the other, I was so fucking ready to finally be more than just another face in the crowd. There was no need to be worried about Cyberpsychosis, or to work at gathering the wealth necessary. All I needed to do was push a few buttons, and I'd be something better.
Holding off on pushing it up until now had been damn near painful. A constant weight on my mind. There was certainly nothing unbearable about my apartment, or the food, or anything else I could have improved about my life, but it just wasn't worth it compared to what I could put them into instead.
I'd planned this out days ago, sussing out the right Template that would let me find the cyberpsycho, no matter where it was, no matter what would be hiding it. A Template with vast utility, that I wouldn't regret picking up even in the distant future.
A power that none else would have. Divination. The ability to ask myself a question and receive the answers I needed.
There were qualifiers, of course. The first was that it needed to be a power that I knew intimately. A power that I knew the effects, limitations and uses of. One that I knew would be able to do exactly what I needed it to do. There were probably countless Templates that could accomplish what I had in mind, but the ones who I knew down to the detail were vastly more limited in number.
The second was that it had to be something I could use "Immediately out of the box", whether it was at Tier 4 or 5, it had to be something that, upon purchase, I had full access to immediately, so that limits and issues from downgrading like what I'd run into using the [System] would not be an issue.
The third was less of a qualifier and more of a pleasant detail. It had to be hard to detect, something that I could reliably use without anyone being the wiser in the surveillance state of the dark future. Preferably something out of context, requiring methods to detect which the world of Cyberpunk would have absolutely no way to access. Like my arcane power, but even harder to notice.
Of course, things like True Divination rarely appeared at a useful level in low-grade Templates, and they were seldom reliable. There were plenty of god-like beings that would have the ability, but they would be diluted, and the effect of that dilution was something I couldn't risk.
My heart thumped in my chest as I carefully made my choices. It was all so simple, a few moments of my hands and…
[Active Skill Granted: Hamon!]
Hamon
Lvl 31
The power of life, similar to that which emanates from the sun, generated by steady, controlled breathing. An ancient technique born to rebel against the machinations of man-eating monsters and their undead servants.
[Passive Skill Granted: Unarmed Combat 23!]
[Passive Skill Granted: Total Combat 16!]
Strength: 39>48
Vitality: 47>54
Dexterity: 45>86
Intelligence: 43>67
Tech: 22>25
Charisma: 12>29
My grin was so wide I felt like it could split my face. This wasn't earned. I had done nothing for this power. But I didn't care, it was mine now. Mine to use as I see fit. Mine!
The passive skills were an admirable bunch. My skill with hand to hand had jumped from garbage to incredible in moments. It was better than every other passive skill I had, now. Even my skill with pistols was only at Level 16, and I think I'm pretty good with that, making head and body shots pretty consistently in the chaos of a firefight. And now, my ability in unarmed combat exceeded that. And my ability with improvised weaponry was just about equal. From wine glasses to rope to torn off tufts of my own hair, if it didn't make sense, I could use it like a pro.
Though, I was probably going to have to actually test it before relying on it. Best to get accustomed to my new tools before I trust them in any capacity.
I hadn't expected the enhanced statistics, but I really should have. Joseph Joestar was what we in the business liked to call "A Shonen Protagonist". Not capable of nonsense such as busting planets with Ki attacks or cracking mountains with sheer willpower, but still capable of superhuman feats even when not using their actual superpowers.
But the superpowers… oh, the superpowers.
One was the generation and manipulation of one's own vital energy. Its name was [Hamon] or sometimes [Ripple]. By using the correct breathing techniques, I could massively boost my strength, my durability, and conduct vital energy through all sorts of mediums, whether it was my own body, substances such as water or metal, or the bodies of others. The tricks one could achieve with it were myriad, and I had just gained access to all of them.
Not that I had experience with them, and that would have to be important to keep in mind. I'd have to redo my training plan from the ground up with these new skills in mind.
And the other was something different. It was named a [Stand]. A manifestation of the soul, an avatar of one's fighting spirit, an embodiment of one's psyche. In the media it had originated from, all of them had unique powers depending on the user, and though mine wasn't unique, it would be no less useful for it. And best of all, it would be invisible to those without their own mastery of the soul.
Which was nobody else in the entire fucking world.
I was goddamn high on my own hype, I knew it, but I couldn't help it. Superpowers. Honest-to-god superpowers. It was like the first week and having access to mana all over again. Eventually, I would calm down and recognise the drawbacks and limitations of them all, but still. Superpowers.
I didn't even wait to mess with the status popups hanging in the air. Instead, I quietly walked over to the television in my apartment, a device I had used several times during my workout sessions, but honestly more a source of depressing news than anything else. It was far less important to me than my agent, which made it perfect for testing purposes.
My hands seized the sides of the device, and I breathed in, before willing my new power into motion, willing it to coil around the device. Then, I waited for the television to flicker on.
Nothing happened.
I frowned, the new muscle memory and instinct was relatively clear about the steps I was supposed to take. I'd take a hold of something electronic with a screen, and then purple vines would appear, and the screen would change to show me what I want.
My [Stand] was a part of me, like my limbs or organs. Arguably it was more vital than any other part of me, given that it was a piece of my soul given form. So why wasn't it responding to my will? I stared at my hands, waiting for a purple aura to appear, but nothing did. I noticed something else.
Glowing translucent orange circuits slowly crept along the ground, moving like snakes and extending further and further, traveling up the walls and slowly enshrouding the televisions sides. It stopped after framing the television, its lines glowing brighter and brighter before suddenly the screen flickered on, showing static.
My eyes followed the circuits along the ground until I saw their origin point, growing out from my status windows.
My [Stand] and my [System]… were one and the same.
I paused, before willing my power into action again. This time, jagged orange circuits seemed to fizzle into existence around my arms, glowing with a sickly pale orange light. "You could have done what I wanted before," I muttered to myself. "So why not just-"
"HAhahaHAhaHAHAhahaHA!" The television suddenly shifted, and canned laughter, way too loud and raucous, smashed into my ears. My gaze turned, to see the television channel rapidly flickering, countless voices and faces united in only one way. Laughter.
My own goddamn soul had pranked me.
Fuck, I was literally being haunted by the ghost of my own broken sense of humor.
I heaved an aggrieved sigh, suddenly brought back down to Earth. I put my hands on my hips and gave my television and [Stand] a pointed look. "Please tell me I can at least rely on you when we're on the job."
The screen briefly flickers orange, before it flickers off, the ghostly circuits vanishing from sight.
…I think I'll choose to take that as a yes.
I shake my head turn back to my stats, eyeing all their improvements with interest. Dexterity was the winner of the lot, becoming my highest stat by far, while my Intelligence had enjoyed a substantial boost as well. Strength and Vitality hadn't exactly gained much, but I imagined that they would benefit the most from my new [Hamon] skill, and Charisma had jumped a decent degree as well, though honestly I had barely any clue what that meant.
Even Tech had risen. Slightly. No idea what that meant either, though. Maybe my adaptability to cyberware has risen?
My fingers itched. There was just one step further I could go. I had planned to raise my Dexterity to 100 for the fight, but the inclusion of Joseph's physique had changed things. On one hand, it was so much closer, I would only have to invest a fraction of the stat points that I previously would have had to get it up to that level.
On the other hand, did I need to?
…Well, I wanted to. Really badly. There was a certain fantasy I held in my heart. The gunslinger, the swordmaster, the DPS role. To rip the squishy into pieces in moments and to shred the tougher foes. To move so fast everyone else seemed like they were standing still. Magic was cool, don't get me wrong, but there was a panache to being so good at what you did that reality itself couldn't keep up.
The Tsubame Gaeshi from Fate came to mind, a blade technique so well-developed that one could achieve the impossible and strike three times at once from multiple directions. Or Gae Bolg, a spear that conceptually struck the heart no matter what shield or armor would be placed before it.
I hadn't ever seen anyone with with a stat as high as a hundred before. Even Maine was kicking around 80 in Strength, and the guy's arms were packed with cyberware. There might be others who had triple digit stats, but they would be few and far in between.
I could treat myself, just this once, right?
My finger hovered over my status screen, before I pressed it down. Dexterity rose to the triple digits… and I pressed the button to confirm.
[Due to Dexterity passing 100, random Skills related to Agility will be gained]
[Active Skill Gained: Reflex]
Reflex
Lvl 1
Is it just me, or is everything moving slower than usual? Well, more like you're just thinking twice as fast. Take care, though. Your body still needs the usual amount of time to catch up to your thoughts, and you can't keep this up forever before you need to cool off for a long, long while. Mana isn't the issue here, it's that your brain can only handle so much, so keep that in mind before you pull a David.
…On one hand, I was pretty sure my power was talking to me. Which suggested it was intelligent. It had shown hints of that before, but now it was really obvious. And terrifying. On the other hand, I was just short of squealing, my eyes bright and heart in my throat. This was unlike the other powers I had obtained. It was ultimately derived from a Template, sure, but I had put blood, sweat and tears into this. It wasn't the result of an impulse, but a protracted campaign of exercise, jobs and killing. It was mine in a way that Joseph's powers and skills weren't.
And on the third, it was too damn much.
I could barely keep track of Joseph's skills, let alone the one I had just gained. I had figured I would get my hand on some feats that would remain active in the background, not even more superpowers.
I counted on my fingers. [Hamon], [Stand], [Reflex], [Mana Barrier], and my previous buff skills, if I counted them as one, made five different things that I had to keep track of. I breathed in, and I breathed out, a brief surge of energy flowing through me as I reflexively utilized my new [Hamon] skill.
I needed to get a handle on things.
I walked over to the electronic mirror and turned it on, I looked at myself for signs of anything as I took a deep breath, then another. Air rushed through my lungs in a steady flow, and energy sparkled over my body, illuminating the area and flowing through my arms. I shut my teeth with a click.
Too visible. As I had expected, but I had to confirm. Next power.
I willed my [Stand] to action, and neon orange circuits lept out from my hands, branching out into the air before bending downwards, too weak to support their own weight. I gave it a frown and a once over. My implanted knowledge suggested that it should be more than strong enough to support its own weight, but maybe merging with my [System] had affected things.
I glanced in the electronic mirror, and smiled when nothing appeared. A power I could actually use while I was out and about, though I was going to have to be concerned about affecting devices, and whether or not it would be connected back to me. And now…
I flicked a mental switch, and watched in awe as my palm slowly flipped. "Huh." I muttered, my own voice sounding slow and low pitched as I listened. My eyes took ages to crawl up to the mirror, and I looked carefully for any signs of change.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Quickly, a headache encroached, and I bore it for as long as I could before it became splitting. The world resumed its usual pace as my hand shot up to my head and I winced. Ten seconds for me. Five for everything else. And judging by my headache, I expected it wouldn't be ready for a while yet, and me straining it had definitely not helped things.
Poor, compared to even a market-grade Sandevistan, let alone David's. For now. But there was nothing visible about it. I could use it constantly. Test its limits. Force it to grow and grow, dilate time more and more, longer and longer, until I could be a man living in a world where time stood still.
Of course, that did nothing to enhance my own body's speed, but that was just an unfortunate limitation that I would have to work around, or develop past. Maybe I should work on Intelligence and spells, if it was only my thoughts that could keep up in this slowed time.
So I could use [Reflex] and the [Stand] whenever I wanted, and if time permitted, [Concentration] and [Iron Skin]. And if the worst came to pass, I could probably justify [Hamon] as a type of bioware, while [Mana Barrier] was nearly impossible to explain, but a powerful lifeline for only the most vital circumstances.
Order established, I shook my head. Alright, Razzle. Head in the game. Cyberpsycho. Has to die. Find it. Find it. Find it. My hands reached up to the electronic mirror, and the screen flickered, crackling with static as I focused. It was missing teeth, I was pretty sure. It had red optics. A leather jacket? Something along those lines. It would kill Pilar. I had to stop it, or eventually the others would find out. Logic dictated it. If I was going to live forever, or something along those lines, every secret I kept would come out eventually.
So I couldn't let myself fail. I had to succeed. I-
An orange glow intruded in the side of my vision. I turned my head to see a map of Night City, and a blinking arrow showing where I was, and a small icon of a cybernetic skull in the middle of Northside.
The [System] had never had a map before, but it seemed like the fusion had resulted in a few benefits. "Well." I took my hands away from the side of the electronic mirror, suddenly feeling sheepish. "That's handy."
----------------------------------------
Northside didn't change much from day to night. The streets were pretty much deserted, and the orange hue of the street lights dyed the roads and sidewalks. It was Maelstrom territory, and any normal person would certainly be at risk of being torn to shreds for a hoot. But as I walked, the streets seemed almost peaceful.
It was a beautiful night. The stars were missing from the sky, everything stank of trash, and cold tendrils seemed to brush up and down my spine constantly, signs of Maelstrom activity. I could even see them on the map sometimes, but I wasn't here for them.
I followed the directions on the map unerringly. The icon had been moving as I'd approached, slowly making its way from the North-East towards the center of Northside. Not that it mattered. My hand was at my side, revolver at the ready in case anything got in my way.
Nothing did.
I was humming to myself, a half-remembered song tumbling from my lips. I'd practiced guitar once. One of the songs my teacher had insisted on teaching me. I'd never liked it as much as my favorites. The lyrics simply never made sense to me, and the tune never jived with me, but I could see the merits in it, especially in this one instance. "," I softly sang. "Quest que che. Fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better." There was a grin on my face, as I savored the lyrics. "Run-run-run-run-run-run, run away…" I slowly drew my Overture from its holster, loading it with something I had specially prepared for this occasion.
Armour piercing rounds. They were remarkably easy to get ahold of in the Night City underworld. One call to Regina was all it took. They were expensive, so I only had two clips. I would have to make them count for the fight up ahead.
In the game, Cyberpsychoes were miniboss-type enemies. Walking bullet sponges, capable of taking massive punishment and dishing it right back out again. They were loaded up with all kinds of cyberware which made each one unique and hard to deal with, and some of their abilities even rendered certain approaches useless. Those with speedware could dodge every shot you fired at them, forcing you into melee or using grenades, while others had cyberware that made them immune to stealth takedowns, for example.
Some even retained the skills their sane selves had, such as controlling turrets and drones, laying minefields and piloting linear frames. I doubted that this one had its own set up, but one could never be too sure.
But real life wasn't a game, and I'd be a fool to not take advantage of local information. In the news and the media of Night City, they were monsters and demons. Men and women who were driven completely insane by their poor decisions and purchases to become freaks that were more metal than meat. They could take bullets without even blinking, whether due to their zombie-like resilience or their subdermal armor, and they were equipped with a variety of built-in weapons, from slicing blades to hydraulic pistons.
They were the boogeymen of Night City. Walking arsenals that could appear anywhere, at any time, killing dozens before the NCPD's most finely equipped and trained Maximum Tactical Force Division would arrive and put them down with their state of the art equipment. And anyone could become one. Your neighbor could be one. You could be one.
It was almost casual, the way that I found it. It was in one of the many alleys of Northside between the abandoned factories, simply standing there and looking at nothing. It was dark in the alley, and barrels filled with burning trash provided scant illumination along with the obstructed light from the streets. Its back was turned, and it failed to notice me as I approached, my steps completely silent. My movements were controlled and precise, careful to give absolutely no sign that I was here until it was too late.
The alley had only a little cover. A dumpster, a few barrels, and that was it. I recalled it had a projectile launch system, which could fire anything from rockets to sticky grenades to even mines if the advertisements were accurate, which meant that I couldn't rely on cover. I'd have to rely on my ability to dodge and reflexes to keep me alive. I pulled the motorcycle helmet off my head and took a breath, I wanted a clear view for this fight. [Analyze]
???
Cyberpsycho
Lvl 27
Str: 22
Vit: 96
Dex: 17
Int: 6
Tech: 6
Cha: 8
No fight left.
Notable Abilities: Projectile Launch System
My grin widened with puerile glee. "There you are." My dexterity had more than doubled, and it showed. Aiming and firing my Overture seemed like the simplest thing in the world, now. Even the recoil barely seemed to matter, my awareness of the gun allowing me to tell exactly when it was ready to go again. Two shots came immediately after I announced my presence. The first shattered his right arm, sending his wrist flying off. The second made a sparking, broken mess of his left, that clicked repeatedly as internal mechanisms failed to activate. "I've been looking all over for you. Honestly, did you have to make yourself this hard to find?"
The cyberpsycho turned, and I caught full sight of it. It was wearing a ragged long coat, leather boots of some kind, and absolutely nothing else. Its chest was exposed, with all sorts of glowing green cybernetic enhancements underneath. In fact, its entire body seemed to be covered in cybernetic enhancements, in every limb and up its spine as well. Its hair was patchwork and balding, while its face had an unshaven stubble. Its mouth was filled with teeth that were either yellowed or missing entirely, while its eyes were completely lifeless and dull.
It was mumbling incoherently as it raised the stump of its right arm at me, and nothing happened as the mechanisms within began to click.
I tilted my head, watching with a raised eyebrow. "Pay some attention, won't you?" I said as I levelled my gun at his left shoulder. The shot carved through his cybernetics, ripping the limb from its socket and sending the arm to the ground.
The cyberpsycho didn't even react. Clicking noises, clear and simple to my ears, repeatedly emanated from the right arm right up until my fourth shot severed his right arm from its port.
The two of us stood there, staring at each other. I waited for the cyberpsycho to make a move, my brow now furrowed. "C'mon." I muttered. "You're down your arms. Now what?"
It took a while for it to even notice looking down at where its arms had once been. It began to shamble towards me, slowly. I watched it curiously as it approached, confused at its behavior. Its mumbling grew louder, still completely incoherent to me.
Suddenly, it tripped over its own feet, its slack face hitting the ground with a thud. I stared at its prone form in disbelief.
Nothing happened as it laid there. It did nothing to get up from the ground. Absolutely nothing of consequence occurred as I walked closer and flipped it over with my foot. Its mouth moved, but nothing of meaning emerged, and when I looked at its face, there wasn't any expression. Just a flat, slack jaw and a rasping noise coming from its throat.
I stared down at the thing, waiting for it to do something. Anything. I levelled my Overture at it, but I didn't take the shot. There was a distant thought that I should finish things, put him out of his misery. That I was prolonging his suffering.
"You can do better than that, right?" I muttered instead. "You're better than this."
There was a gurgling noise coming from his throat. White synthetic blood leaked from his joints while his red eyes stared down the barrel of my gun. He didn't even sit up. Couldn't? Wouldn't? I wasn't sure.
My mouth was dry, all of a sudden. My hand was completely still, my control over my muscles beyond human. My synthetic eye was lined up with the iron sights, and seconds ticked by. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to say. I only knew what I was supposed to do.
My Overture barked, and a hole was drilled in his forehead. He was still moving, somehow, his legs drawing up to his chest and pushing against the ground as he shook. I fired again, the second shot spraying gray matter over the ground.
In defiance of logic, he curled up like a dead spider, legs still moving, I grit my teeth and brought my fist down, and then I did it again, harder.
[Power Strike]
He spasmed.
[Power Strike]
He twitched.
[Power Strike]
He laid still.
[+2000 EXP]
I huffed, scooting back. I was sitting on the ground, and there was a wet feeling on my fists. I stared at the corpse, waiting for it to move again. When seconds passed and nothing happened, I relaxed. I felt the urge to check the body for loot, but I hesitated. In my mind, I doubted ammunition or eddies would be found on the body.
There was a strange feeling in my gut, the pit was back, aching and empty. There was a strange sensation of pricking and heat on my back and a headache had formed without me realizing. I stared at the corpse in silence.
He had been dangerous, I recognised the fact that throughout the… conflict between us, he had been trying to kill me with his cyberware, even if he hadn't noticed that I had disabled them in the opening moments. There was little doubt that if he had somehow beaten me, he would have gone on to kill. Maybe Pilar. Maybe more.
This was a win. For me. For Night City.
I unloaded my Overture, shells plinking on the ground as I shook them out. I barely even needed the speed loader now, I simply let the barrel roll as I slotted in six bullets in sequence and flicked it closed. How long had it taken for me to reload? Two seconds? Less?
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
I felt wrong, somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on why. It wasn't regret that I felt. Or shame. Or any form of unhappiness at what I had done. I could have handled the situation better, but I had succeeded in what I had set out to do. There was just this... strange sensation of malcontent that had no direction that I could find.
My thoughts were jumbled, and I needed to clear them out. I took a deep breath and thought of static. Loud, buzzing static that drowned out all my other thoughts until it was silent. It was a trick I had come up with ages ago, and I looked around the alley as I let the breath out again.
I was still unhappy, but there were ways to change that. Maelstrom was still a problem, and now, there was nothing they could do to hide from me. I could see dots on the map, scattered across Northside in groups. There was even one close by, only a few blocks away. I gave my gun a considering look, before I nodded to myself.
A few hours cleaning up Northside to make something of today, and then I'd call it a night. I donned my motorcycle helmet again, and the Overture vanished into my inventory.
The Defender appeared in its place, feeling lighter than ever in my hands, and I took off running, ready to put my new stats to the test.
----------------------------------------
There was a feeling of satisfaction as David walked down the streets of Northside. Everything felt right in a way that defied explanation. Maine and Dorio were off to the side as they walked with the group, Maine's massive arm slung over Dorio's shoulders as they chattered amicably. A drunk Pilar casually offered Lucy an invite to Lizzie's later, only for her to give him the cold shoulder. Rebecca was regaling Kiwi about the novel she had read the other day, while his newly painted jacket hung on his back.
He'd shown it to the others earlier, and the design had elicited mostly approval, with some neutral looks from Lucy and Kiwi, as per usual. Even Pilar had seemed happy about it, and not even in a backhanded way.
More and more, he was feeling like a part of the crew. Like an edgerunner. He was still a little green, and it showed sometimes, sure. For example, there was still a sensation of muted awe sometimes when he looked around the Afterlife, where the legends once had their drinks, but nowadays he could mostly just relax and enjoy the atmosphere.
The group was headed to Rebecca and Pilar's place to drop them off, before they'd swing by a few other districts, ending with David's home in Arrayo. David wasn't sure where Maine and Dorio were going to go after that, but he figured the two of them would be able to handle whatever trouble that might come their way by themselves.
But for now, David simply basked in the moment, enjoying it for what it was.
Then, he heard something in the distance. The echo of gunfire riddling the chatter around him like bullets through synthpork. His head perked up, and heads turned all around him as they listened to the sound.
"Loud dickheads." Pilar muttered, scratching his mohawk. "Couldn't they have their turf wars somewhere else?"
It really did sound like a turf war, the loud and repeated sound of machine gun fire interspersed with bursts and barks of other types of guns, and it sounded kinda close, too. A few blocks away, maybe. He also heard shouting, indistinct due to the distance involved.
David realized that the rest of the crew hadn't even broken stride, while he was just standing there like a gonk, and he quickly jogged forward, catching back up with the rest of the group.
The gunfire echoed out for a few seconds longer, before just as quickly as it started, the sound stopped. Pilar huffed in annoyance, "Yeah, that's right. You'd better shaddup." He grouched. "Gah, my head's already killing me. Becca, can I have some of your Real Water when we get back?"
"Sure, bro! Just take it when you start actually replacing the stuff in the fridge!" Rebecca said with a mask of cheer.
"Oh, sweet. Thanks." He muttered, running his golden fingers through his hair. Her expression shifted to one of annoyance.
"I swear, if you actually take my shit one more time-" She started off, only for Kiwi to clap her hand over her mouth.
"Heads up, we've got company." Kiwi said. The crew went silent again, but before David could ask what she meant, he heard it.
The sound of footsteps. And it was rapidly growing louder and louder. Whoever it was, they were sprinting in their direction. David tensed, his finger on the mental trigger as he prepared to fire off the Sandevistan, his metal spine seeming to thrum on his back. The crew was more casual about it, but he could see them all tense as well. Hands went to iron, and Rebecca outright drew her gun from its holster with a feral grin. "Good, I could use something to shoot right about now."
They stood and waited, keeping an eye out as the sound of the running grew louder and louder, before a figure burst out from around the corner far ahead of them, wearing a motorcycle helmet and wrapped up in padded armor over a long leather jacket, both way too much and yet faintly familiar, like something from the front page of a Solo magazine or something. There was blood on their body, both synthetic white and natural red, dripping on the ground and leaving a trail.
They were also carrying a bulky Defender, holding it with both arms. The weight of the gun didn't seem to slow them down in the slightest as they sprinted down the street. They didn't even stop to look at the crew, charging forwards like a man possessed. Rebecca's barrel followed the figure, but they didn't stop or turn, instead, they vanished around the corner.
A moment of silence passed as the footsteps grew quieter and quieter.
"Huh. Guess he was in a hurry." Maine stated, seemingly unfazed by the strange encounter.
"Psh." Rebecca grumbled, as she pointed her sidearm up in the air. "Could have at least given us an excuse."
"Guess if you wanted some action, you shoulda just shot first! Heh." Pilar grinned, only for his face to abruptly turn into a frown as gunfire resumed, far closer than before. "Aw, c'mon! Some of us have a headache!" He complained, loudly.
"Leave it be, Pilar." Kiwi advised as she started to walk again. "Because if you get us into a gunfight, I'm leaving your gonk ass behind."
"Kiwi, you might be the most frigid bitch in all of Night City, but it don't matter! Know why?" He threw his arms out wide. "It's 'cause the rest of my chooms got me! Right guys?"
Silence was his answer as the rest of the group resumed their walk. David gave him an apologetic smile.
Pilar deflated. "Aw, screw you guys."
The gunfire cut off as they rounded the corner. The figure was standing some distance away in a parking lot, in front of the fresh bodies of a few Maelstrom gangoons. There was an eerie silence as they leaned down and set the Defender to the side, snatching up clips and eddies and even the guns. Their movements flowed into one another, and their hands seemed to move almost like a machine's, without second guesses or any sort of pause. They tucked their spoils into their massive jacket and immediately stood up, the Defender back in their hands again like nothing had happened.
The figure stood utterly still, not moving even slightly, seemingly unaware of the crew as they kept walking. David's eyes narrowed, there was definitely something familiar about them, but what exactly was it that rang a bell in his mind? The coat, maybe?
"Hey jackass! Keep it down!" Pilar yelled out, flicking the middle finger at the figure. "People are trying to sleep right now!"
The figure's head snapped in their direction, and only the head. It was like there was no momentum to their movements. One moment, they were looking away, the next, they were staring at Pilar.
Immediately, David began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut as they prepared to trigger his Sandevistan. The entire crew subtly prepared to spring into action, with only Pilar not doing anything more than making rude gestures in the figure's direction.
Then, the figure seemed to slack ever so lightly, like the weight of their body had suddenly caught up with them. "Oh. Hey, guys." The figure called out, casually giving a perfectly human wave.
Wait. That tone. That cadence. It was muffled, but unmistakable.
"Razzle?" David's voice was utterly disbelieving.
The man shifted the Defender to their back and reached up to their motorcycle helmet, tugging it off and revealing a familiar blonde mop. The look on his face seemed tired, but there was still a smile. "Sup, David." His head turned to Rebecca. "Becca." Then to the group overall. "...Crew, whose hands are concerningly close to their iron. Speaking of which." His head turned back to Rebecca. "Can you please stop pointing a gun at me?" He asked wearily.
"Huh? Oh! Sure!" She said, holstering her sidearm. "What'chu doing out so late?"
"Uh." His head turned to look at the bodies of the Maelstrom, before turning to look back at them. "Collecting bounties."
"Collecting bounties?" Lucy's voice was tinged with disbelief.
"Yes." He nodded.
"At this time of night?" She pressed.
"Mhm-hm." He nodded again.
"In Northside." Her brow was furrowed, now.
"Yep!" There was a grin, this time.
"Where we just so happen to be." Her voice was completely flat.
Razzle paused, tapping his chin, before he raised a finger. "You know, when you say it like that, it sounds like I'm making awful life decisions right now. Speaking of awful life decisions." He turned to David. "It was dumb of me to turn down that invite earlier. Like, I tried to make plans of my own and wow." He chuckled a bit, putting his hands on his sides. "They… really did not turn out well." He paused. "Well, they turned out okay, but honestly. This whole night? Complete disappointment." His tone was remarkably flippant, given the situation.
"Oh. That sucks." David said, before his mind rebooted and he remembered that Razzle had just gunned down a small squad of Strom. "Hey, Razzle…"
Razzle's hand suddenly smacked his head as he sucked in a breath. "Fuck!" He exclaimed. At David's look of confusion, he shook his head. "Just realize that I was being an idiot. Don't mind me. Sorry for interrupting. You were saying?" His words tumbled out quickly.
Lucy was staring at David, and he wasn't sure why. Still, he pressed on. "Hey, uh…" His thoughts were jumbled. There had been this whole rant earlier, and he had said something about Maelstrom being bastards and now he seemed almost… manic. He had seemed okay, but now he was running around, covered in blood. "You good, man?"
The smile on Razzle's face froze awkwardly. His expression shifted slowly, his eyes wandering from the bodies to David before they went to his feet. He seemed lost for words for a while, as the poor lighting in the street cast a shadow over his face.
He took a breath and sighed. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a while. He made an aborted attempt at a gesture, his hand hanging in the air. "...Nah." He finally managed, his tone an awkward attempt at casualness.
David's brow furrowed, and Razzle shook his head with a sigh. "Fucking… okay." He muttered, before he turned to look at David with a grin. He held it for a moment, before it abruptly vanished as he fell silent again. He seemed to struggle to say anything, but eventually, he spoke up. "Going to be completely real with you, David. No. I'm not good."
"Ah." David stated.
The two stood there in awkward silence, and David quickly felt the pressure quickly pile on. Fuck, why had he asked that question? He had no idea what he was supposed to do here! What would his mom do? Fuck!
Before David could think of anything, Rebecca broke the silence casually. "Dang, that sucks. Wanna come to my place?"
Everyone's heads turned in her direction. Pilar jabbed a finger in her face. "Hey, whoa whoa whoa! I did not sign off on this!" A pink sidearm was pressed into the direct center of his monovisor. "I sign off on this." He immediately announced.
"Preem!" Rebecca said with cheer, before turning to Razzle. "You coming?"
He stared at Rebecca, the look on his face caught somewhere between disbelief and relief. "...Sure. That sounds good." He finally said, with a slight smile.
----------------------------------------
I think I was getting to the core of my malcontent. It became clearer and clearer as I went nuts on Maelstrom, and now, I'm pretty sure I've gotten to the root of things.
It's too easy, now.
Point and click. Point and click. There's a concept that I remember hearing about called "Rocket Tag", where even if two sides in a game are perfectly "Balanced", if both sides can kill each other too easily, then any fight is going to be boring or frustrating because any conflict would be over way too soon to be fun, and always come down to who notices the other first.
And I think that's what I'm feeling here. Boredom, or some sort of frustration. Though genuinely I feel more numb than any sort of intense emotion.
Of course, it's a stupid feeling to have. I can clear up these Maelstrom members so quickly, so easily now, that it's a little scary to even me. Pretty much any fight with these low-level goons I get into, it'll be handled in a cinch. And that's good. It's always better to win for sure than to face the possibility of loss, right?
Though, saying that in my head doesn't help me feel any better.
It's not like I've run out of challenges or worthwhile opponents or anything. There's still plenty of things out there that can stop me in my tracks. People with subdermal armor, more dangerous cyberpsychos, and that's just the streets. The corps definitely have the kind of thing that can stop me, even setting aside the lone freaks or prototype technologies like Adam Smasher or the Cyberskeleton. Tanks, full conversion borgs, and armies so large I'll run out of bullets before they run out of troops.
Yeah, there's plenty more to worry about, so I can just enjoy being busted for my current level until the difficulty of the work I'm hired for catches right back up, right?
But what if the others figure out that I've gotten way too good, way too fast? Lucy already suspects something, and I don't doubt that the others are starting to suspect things too. I can probably explain away the scene they saw as me taking the Maelstrom goons by surprise with a machine gun, but Rebecca's good with guns, she can probably tell if I start doing headshots just as well as, if not better, than she can.
I heave a sigh, thankful for the silence that seems to have taken over the crew. I give a glance over to the group, only to look away as Lucy's cold stare meets mine. Yep, she definitely already suspects something.
David is thankfully silent, and so is Rebecca. Pilar is quietly rubbing his chin while looking at me, and Kiwi, Maine and Dorio don't seem to be paying much attention to me, which is… good. I think.
Eventually, we come up to an apartment building, and the group splits in two. Rebecca and Pilar in one, and everyone else in the other. It takes me way too long for me to realize that we're at our destination, and prepare to follow Rebecca and Pilar in, only to stop at the threshold and turn to look at David.
"Thanks for your concern." I say, doing my best to look him in the eye. Eye contact doesn't come easily to me, so I have to focus on it to actually make it happen, otherwise, my gaze wanders off to anything else. It's strange, having total awareness of my body yet still fidgeting. It feels like my body is not entirely under my control, even though it is. I simply don't have the focus for it. "I would have had a lot more trouble admitting that there was something wrong, otherwise."
David seems unsure what to say, but he gives a sheepish grin and a nod. Behind him, I can see Lucy's eyes narrow further, though I can't decipher the expressions on anyone else's faces. I thumb back to the building, "I'll just be going, now." I say, putting on a smile.
He gives a wave. "Take care." He says, and I give him a wave back before I turn around and walk in.
I let out a breath I've been holding in as I follow Rebecca and Pilar into their apartment. It reminded me of my own apartment, but much more lived in. There were carpets, books, and a divider set up in the middle of the apartment. It was homey and warm in a way that mine wasn't, despite the place being bathed in blue light.
"Got a change of clothes?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow with a quirk of her lips as I took off my stained shoes and walked in. "Your current look is gonna turn some heads, you know."
"Yeah, 'cause he looks like a damn cyberpsycho fresh from butchering a mall." Pilar grumbled. Rebecca turned around with a look of annoyance, but I headed the argument off the best I could.
"Yeah, I got an extra shirt in one of my pockets… somewhere." I said, tapping my coat, before shaking my head. "I think the pants are fine, it's the coat and the shoes that need to be washed off." I muttered, walking over to one of the side rooms. The shower was handily marked, and I stepped in. I shucked off my coat, and folded it with my shoes to wash later, before stepping and turning on the water.
There were muffled sounds that I figured were some sort of conversation, or maybe an argument, but I did my best not to listen in as I rinsed myself off to the best of my ability. I paused when I stepped out of the shower only to realize something. "Hey Becca?" I called out.
"Yeah? What is it?" She called back.
"Is there a towel I can borrow?"
"I'll bring one over in a sec!" I heard loud and clear, before there was a hiss that I probably wasn't supposed to hear. "I swear to god, if you ruin this for me-"
I frowned, doing my best to distract myself as I willed the translucent orange wires into being around my arm. "Appreciate your help, too." I muttered under my breath, before allowing it to fade away.
Eventually, a towel was passed inside, and I drew a shirt from my inventory and threw it on, along with the pants I had worn previously, before stepping out to see Rebecca sitting on a couch that had been moved. Her coat was gone, leaving her only in underwear that looked like it was taped on. I did my best to look her in the eye as she gave me a wave. "Hey! So I'm not sure if you're hungry or anythin', but I got some grub in the fridge!"
"I'm good, thanks." I shook my head. I was considering whether or not it would be overstepping to ask if I could have the couch for the night, only for my eyes to flicker from the couch, which had been moved across a TV screen, to what looked like a few boxed movies conspicuously lying on the table, to Rebecca's hopeful gaze, before thinking for a moment. Now, I might not be the most observant man in the world, but… "Do you want to watch a movie?" I eventually offered.
She gave a grin. "Got a few action classics to pick through, though there's also a few others in the back." I picked them up, looking at them with interest.
"Bushido?" I muttered, turning it over in my hands. The cover looked tacky, but the plot described on the back seemed intriguing enough. I leafed through the others, tilting my head further and further as I read off the covers. "Lady Blade, Cyberspace…" Was it just me, was there a common theme where all of these boxes have action women on them? I shrugged the idea off. Not everything had to be intent, though there was definitely plenty of thought put into all of this. "Bushido looks good." I said, showing her the box.
"That's 'cause Bushido is good." Pilar announced, walking in with a packet of sweets. Rebecca's head snapped around as he dragged a beanbag into parallel with the couch. He flopped down with a satisfied sigh, tearing the packet open.
I briefly caught a flicker of yellow light in Rebecca's eyes as she turned with a smile. "Wow, bro! I thought you said you were too tired to stay up or something!" Her voice dripped with false cheer.
"My bed's on this side of the wall and it's not like I'm going to get any shuteye if you're playing a movie." He stated, gesturing towards an unkempt bed sitting in the corner. "So I may as well join in, eh sis?"
I offhandedly wondered if I had made a mistake taking out the cyberpsycho early, before dismissing the thought with a shake of my head. Whatever private, thinly veiled conversation they were having, it ended with a stalemate as Rebecca turned back, her eyes no longer flickering yellow with messages. "Well, may as well get started, right?"
"Sure." I decided not to point out the obvious, and Pilar slotted the movie shard in as I settled down on the other side of the couch.
The movie was… definitely an action flick, alright. It was about an undercover badge infiltrating an edgerunner crew, and finding love with one of them. There was a remarkable amount of emphasis on edgerunning, dueling and chooms. And lots and lots of women cutting people up with katanas. I couldn't help but be enraptured. My first taste of media from another world. I was definitely sold before I even watched it, and what I saw certainly wasn't bad enough to make me turn away.
I could also feel the woman beside me edging closer and closer throughout the movie. I didn't comment on it, unsure of what I'd even say. It was clear what she wanted, but I couldn't help but be struck with hesitation. Did we even know each other yet? Was it too soon? I stayed quiet as the movie continued, and the protagonist learned of the ancient secret of Bushido, that the true warrior lived as though he had already died a glorious death.
Which I figured in the context of Japanese history meant a life of service to those they had sworn their swords, and not by doing an incredible amount of drugs and driving a sports car through the contents of a city block, but that was Cyberpunk for you. "That man's blood has to be a controlled substance by this point." I couldn't help but comment with a huff of amusement.
"It actually comes up as a plot point in Bushido 5." Pilar mentioned offhandedly.
I raised an eyebrow as I looked in his direction. "How many of these films are there again?"
"Nine." He said, with a swig of a plastic bottle. "If anyone tells you there's ten, they're lying to you. Cut off contact and never speak to them again."
"Pilar, is that my Real Water?" Rebecca said, her voice was sweet, but the way she gripped her pistol was decidedly not.
The man in question turned to look at the bottle in his hands, before he offered it. "Want any?"
I leaned out of the way as Rebecca took aim.
"Okay, hold on, you little psycho- GAH!" A bullet smashed into his gold-plated hands, and he howled in pain. "Be careful with these, I just got 'em!"
"OH, SO YOU WANT ME TO SHOOT THE REST OF YOU INSTEAD?" Rebecca demanded as she advanced.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO HAVING A NICE NIGHT?!" Pilar yowled, scrambling behind the divider as Rebecca gave chase.
"If it helps, I'm still enjoying myself with the movie!" I called out as loud crashing echoed through the apartment.
"WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS?!" Pilar yelled back, "Wait, don't shoot that! I've been working on that one for-" A loud bang interrupted him, causing a wail of agony that seemed more emotional than physical.
"I'm currently watching a woman in daisy dukes decapitate a gang member with a katana. Honestly, the stuff on screen's more violent than what's off of it." I commented, my eyes still glued to the film.
They ended up settling down as the movie was starting to wrap up. I watched the undercover badge gone native and the bald leader of the edgerunner crew had their final duel, the blade of the edgerunner shattering, only for the undercover cop to pass him his own sword instead of arresting the man. I considered clapping as the credits started to roll, only to hold off, looking at the other two.
Rebecca and Pilar were soaked in sweat, Pilar was sagged in his beanbag, which had a few new bullet holes in it, while Rebecca was still playing with her sidearm. "So. What'cha think?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in my direction.
"I really liked the tone and aesthetic." I admitted, waving at the screen. "There was an interesting character arc, too."
Pilar's brow furrowed as he looked in my direction. "Character arc?"
"Yeah, the cop realizing that he had found brotherhood and happiness with the edgerunners, compared to the barely-present esprit de corps of the police force. Him eventually deciding to give up his career rather than lose the meaning or love that he'd found with the crew." I said, turning to look at him. "And I really liked how the film used kitsch and dull lighting to highlight the contrast between his time with the crew and the force. Mind you, I don't necessarily like the bright colors, but I can appreciate what they're going for."
The look on Pilar's face was incredulous. "Wait, back up. Was that french? Since when did you know french?"
"I have a vast soul." I gave a shrug.
I could feel his eyes narrow despite his lack of eyelids. "Pull the other one, you stole that from a movie or something, didn't you?"
"A video game." I admitted with a grin.
His hands came together with a clang. "Fuckin' knew it." He muttered.
"What do you like about the movie, then?" I asked, curiosity overcoming me.
He shrugged. "Hot chicks cutting the shit out of the bad guys."
"Ah." I nodded. "Makes sense, I guess." I raised my eyebrow at Rebecca next. "And you? What did you like?"
"I liked the way they showed the gigs." She admitted, "Pretty close to the real thing. Way better than most edgerunner movies, so I can watch it without thinking to myself," her face scrunched up, "That gonk should have been shot by everyone in the room, and then set on fire." She relaxed again.
"Including the part where they drove a car through a mall?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"More true to life than you'd think. Remind me to introduce you to Falco sometime." She said with a quirk of her lips.
The three of us watched the credits roll for a while. I wasn't sure how exactly to move forward, and it seemed Rebecca didn't either, and Pilar was too busy fixing his hands to say anything. I waited, occasionally glancing in Rebecca's direction. Eventually I noticed her doing the same to me, and I looked away quickly, the beginnings of a flush on my face.
We were close to each other, in terms of physical distance. It was the emotional distance that I was worried about. Should I go for it? I… I didn't want to screw up the slow and steady thing that we had going, but at the same time, I wanted to get closer. Badly.
My thoughts tumbled over each other. No conclusion was reached. My mouth opened. "Want to hug?" Spilled out of my mouth.
"Hm?" Rebecca's head turned fully in my direction, her eyes wide.
I hesitated for a moment longer. Fuck it. In for a penny. "Hug. You and me." I managed to force out.
The two of us stared at each other for a short moment, before she scooted closer without a word. I slowly laid my arm over her shoulder. Her skin, despite its unnatural color, still had a natural texture to it. I could feel goosebumps under my fingertips as I brushed my hand over her arm, as well as artificial divots where EMP wiring crossed her body in circuit-like patterns. I stared ahead at the screen, and was faintly surprised to feel her head settle into the side of my chest and her arm curl around my waist.
A strange, amazing feeling bloomed in me, I could still feel the regret of poor decisions and hesitation in me, but there was something else there, too. A feeling like wonder and glee, but richer in a way I couldn't explain.
My breathing steadied, as I did my best not to move, and the two of us sat there for a time that I couldn't measure, simply holding each other. A sensation of exhaustion, previously held at bay by interest, quickly crept up on me, and I felt my eyelids weigh heavier and heavier. "Mind if I take the couch?" I muttered sleepily, not sure who was asking.
"Feel free. Not like Rebecca will let me move the two of you, anyway." Pilar muttered, getting off the beanbag and flexing his cyberhand. "I'd better not hear anything while I'm trying to sleep." He warned, before flopping into his bed. "Night, suckers." He snapped his gold fingers, and the lights in the apartment died.
"Not gonna be a problem." I muttered, settling down. Briefly, as my eyes slid shut, I saw Rebecca's eyes flash yellow in the darkness of the room, and I couldn't help a smile as I pulled her closer into me, and in the little light exuded by the movie credits slowly winding down, I could see hints that her face mirrored mine.
- - -
Pilar: smooth.
Rebecca: CHROMESNIFFING FUCKFENCE GO CLIMB A WALL OF DICKS