Sophie emerged from the sewers just as night began to fall over the city. Her dinner, another burrito, had barely made a dent in her hunger after her training during the day.
The city’s cool air hit her like a wave, a sharp contrast to the humid conditions in the sewer pipes. She adjusted the strap of her bag, ensuring that it didn’t dig into her shoulder too sharply. When her hand fell, her fingers briefly brushed against the Nue pistol holstered at her waist. She hadn’t brought the Copperhead with her. It would be fairly conspicuous for a young girl like her to be carrying something like that. Stealth faintly agreed with her.
She had numerous objectives for the evening. Her primary goal was to explore Westbrook. It would be her main area of operation for the foreseeable future, so she wanted to understand where she was and the people in the area. She also wanted to grab a better dinner, find some clothes and train her Stealth. Being in a crowd would hopefully help with the latter.
Sophie moved along the streets, curiously looking at the different clothes and styles people wore. Eventually she found herself standing at the edge of a large, busy night market. She observed the crowd for a bit then decided to join in. She slipped into the throng of people moving through the district, allowing herself to be hidden amongst the crowd.
As she wandered, she smelled an intense scent cutting through the regular city stench. Her feet carried her towards the source. As she got closer, the smell of sizzling meat and spices drew her in even further and her stomach growled in response. The vendor, a middle-aged asian man with a gruff demeanor, barely glanced at her as she handed over a few eurodollars for a hot skewer of grilled meat and vegetables.
Most of the meat in Night City had a similar taste, considering it was all made of scop but the spices the man used on the skewer were incredible. Sophie moved to the side of the stall, savoring each bite. The food was greasy, slightly overcooked and yet it was so good. Definitely gonna come here again.
As she ate, Sophie kept her eyes open, taking in the sights around her. She watched a pair of corpos in cold suits stride past, their conversation quiet. Some distance to her left, a group of teens, barely older than her, laughed loudly as they passed around a can of spray paint. They all had some variant of Tyger Claw markings, though not much. Entry level grunts, she assumed.
It was also noisy. Very noisy. Street vendors shouted over the top of each other, trying to hawk their wares. The stores that enclosed the market were covered in holo-ads for cyberware or imitation designer clothes. There was a mix of languages, though one aspect stood out. Slang.
If I want to fit in and go unnoticed, I need to make sure I understand the slang everyone uses. It’s also a good idea if I use it myself. Being overly formal will make it clear I’m not from around here.
With that in mind, Sophie started paying close attention to the different terms the people around her were using. She grabbed another skewer from the grumpy chef, then set off back into the crowd.
She wandered aimlessly for a while, observing with genuine curiosity. Night City was an interesting place, with layers upon layers of complexity. A few streets down from the skewer stall, she noticed a man arguing with a Tyger Claws enforcer, his voice rising in desperation. Her hand fell to the grip of her Nue, tempted to try and take out the lone ganger. In such a crowded place though, it would likely cause undesired trouble.
Sophie quickened her pace past the alley, keeping her head down to appear as inconspicuous as possible. The gangs had immense power in every part of NC. Pissing one of them off before she was ready was a terrible idea.
Eventually, Sophie’s steps took her to a small clothing store tucked between two larger shops. The neon sign above the door flickered periodically, and the inside looked quiet. She stepped inside, the bell above jingling softly. The store clerk, a tired-looking woman with neon-green hair and cybernetic eyes, gave her a brief glance before returning to whatever she was doing behind the counter.
Sophie browsed the racks carefully. She needed clothes that fit better than the oversized ones she wore now but still had enough room for the growth she would undoubtedly experience when she put on some weight.
After a few minutes of deliberation, she chose a pair of sturdy black pants, a grey hoodie that wasn’t too bulky, and a black jacket with reinforced padding. Nothing special but it would provide enough protection until she could get something better.
At the counter, she placed the items down and handed over her eurodollars without a word. The clerk raised an eyebrow at her muddy appearance but didn’t say anything, sliding the clothes into a simple bag. The look made her realise something.
She was filthy. Her skin sticky with sweat and dirt, her hair greasy, and her jacket caked in sewer grime. Putting on clean clothes now would be a waste. She needed to clean herself up first.
Somewhat nervously, the teen asked a question.“Um, any chance you know where I could go to clean myself?” The woman looked at her for a moment before her eyes turned blue. At the same time, a notification appeared in Sophie’s HUD. A set of directions from the woman, leading to what looked like a public bathhouse.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“It’s expensive, so most folk only go once or twice a week. Shouldn’t be too busy right now.” The clerk said.
“Thank you very much.” With those words, the girl tucked the bag of new clothes into her own and left the store, her eyes scanning the directions she had received for her destination. Everything feels so…transactional. Everybody just minds their own business, no questions asked. It’s odd. With similar experiences from the skewer chef and the clothing clerk, that was Sophie’s observation. It didn’t matter much though. She wasn’t interested in making friends with anyone. They’d only get hurt associating with her.
The teen continued walking, on the hunt for the bathhouse. After a while, she spotted a sign glowing faintly in the corner of her vision. It was old and slightly weathered, its flickering letters spelling out: "Urban Wash & Refresh". She paused, studying the building. The entrance was recessed slightly into the wall, the glow of cold white lighting spilling out onto the sidewalk. From the outside, it looked quiet.
She approached and peered inside through the reinforced glass door. The interior was relatively clean, a sharp contrast to the grime of the streets. Rows of private shower stalls lined one wall, and a few larger communal areas were visible farther back. Each stall was equipped with a simple keypad, and bright holographic signage displayed the pricing.
The clerk was right. It was expensive.
Sophie frowned as she glanced at the rate: 60 eurodollars per session. It was steep, especially for her dwindling stash of cash. She was down around 1000 eddies after the clothes and food. But the place was completely empty, save for a tired-looking cleaning drone trundling along the far corner. The emptiness made her decision easier. Privacy was worth every eddie.
She pushed open the door, the soft chime signaling her entrance. Inside, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant. A single terminal stood at the entrance, its interface glowing slightly. Sophie tapped through the options, selecting a private stall. She fed the necessary eurodollars into the machine, wincing as she did so. It was understandable why most people would only clean themselves once a week.
A soft beep sounded, and one of the stalls unlocked, its frosted glass door sliding open with a quiet hiss. Sophie stepped inside and locked the door behind her.
The stall was small, though she didn’t mind too much considering her size. There was a bench, hooks for clothes, a mirror and a basic shower system. A panel offered a few settings: water temperature, pressure, and a choice of basic soaps and shampoos. Sophie placed her bag on the bench to ensure her new clothes didn’t get wet.
She stripped off her filthy clothes, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction as her skin was allowed to breathe. The water sputtered to life as she adjusted the temperature, settling on a warmth that wouldn’t burn.
The first blast of water was almost blissful, the heat melting away the grime that clung to her body. She leaned into it, closing her eyes as the water cascaded over her. For the first time in months, she felt clean. The soap dispenser activated automatically, releasing a foamy substance into her hands. She scrubbed furiously, working the product into her skin and hair. The smell of sewerage and dirt was replaced by something slightly sweet.
As she washed, Sophie reflected on everything that had happened to her. Her death, when the roof of her house collapsed on her. Her reincarnation, finding herself in a new, beaten body in a new, broken world. Then her first meeting with Mia and the introduction to the other kids. The memories took a darker turn as she relived the memories of her torture. Mia’s death, still fresh in her mind, caused tears to run down her face. She didn’t notice, too emotional to think properly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Mia. I wish I could have saved you.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. When she opened them again a minute later, she caught sight of herself for the first time.
Her inky black hair fell just past her shoulders and her fringe was dangerously close to covering her slightly dull, red eyes. Her face was gaunt, as expected but it was her body that drew a gasp. “That’s me?” She breathed out quietly.
Scars, of all different shapes and sizes, covered her body. There was nowhere that wasn’t affected. She could recognise all of them. The lacerations, the drill marks and the whippings. Everything. And she was little more than a stick. Her ribs pressed against the inside of her skin as though desperate for air, though the same could be said for most of her skeleton. Even her breasts, which she knew should have been fairly large, were barely visible. There simply wasn’t enough meat to fill them out.
The clear, visual impact of just how much she had suffered was dulled somewhat by the silence of the bathhouse. It gave her time to process.
She lingered longer than she probably should have, letting the water soothe the ache in her muscles and mind. Finally, the automated timer chimed softly, signaling the end of her session. Sophie sighed and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the neatly folded stack provided. She dried off quickly and dressed in her new clothes: sturdy black pants, a grey hoodie, and the dark blue jacket. The fit was far more comfortable than her previous clothes, and the fabric was clean and soft against her skin.
Her reflection in the stall’s mirrored surface caught her attention. Her dull eyes stared back at her. I couldn’t save you, Mia. I couldn’t even save myself. If not for that merc, I would have followed you into the grave. But don’t worry. I’ll get stronger. So strong that nobody can hurt me again. I’ll do my best to make sure nobody has to go through what we did. For myself, and for you. Her eyes seemed to gain clarity. Her determination was properly solidified at that moment. She would do whatever it took to gain the power she wanted, even if it meant becoming a monster. She breathed out an oddly relieved sigh and turned away from her reflection.
Before leaving the shower stall, Sophie carefully packed her old clothes into her bag. They were filthy, but she didn’t throw them away. They might serve as makeshift rags or padding, and she didn’t have the luxury to waste her resources. She slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped out of the stall.
The bathhouse remained as silent as it had been when she entered, the cleaning drone now diligently wiping down another stall. Sophie made her way back to the street, feeling better than she had since her arrival.
As she made her way back to her sewer hideout, she spotted a poster outside of a store. The store sign read ‘2nd Amendment’, a brand she recognised from her playthrough of the game. They’d probably have a gun range. Once I get the eddies, I’ll definitely come by and look to practise Basic Gun Combat.
However, the poster drew more of her attention.
President Myers declares her intent to unify the Free States of North America!
Small conflicts have already broken out between the NUSA and the Free States!
“Well, that tells me what year it is. 2069, huh. I’ve got a lot of work to do then, if I want to feel even a little bit safe when Hansen arrives. Oh, but I guess the Mox will already be around. That’s good.” A system message appeared as she spoke.
New Mission
Complete your first hunt.
Difficulty: Hard
Rewards: 1000 L-Coins, 500 Eurodollars, Common Skill Voucher
“Seems like we’re in agreement then. I better get to it.”