Sewers

October 22nd

2069

The city was covered by a blanket of smog as Sophie guided her bike out of the sewers and into the streets of Westbrook. The air was warmer than she expected, though there was a breeze on her face that kept her cool. She adjusted her jacket as she started the engine and mentally made sure all of her weapons were secure. They were and she set off, speeding towards Heywood.

As she rolled through the streets of Westbrook and onto the main road toward Heywood, Sophie noticed how quiet everything seemed in comparison to the chaos she’d seen just the day before in Watson. The war between the Tyger Claws and Maelstrom had turned Watson into a battlefield and the entire district was on the verge of being locked down. But in Heywood, the air was untainted by conflict, aside from the occasional road rage.

She rode slowly, taking in her surroundings. The buildings were a mix of old and new, with some towering in concrete and steel while others showed cracks and faded paint from decades of neglect. The streets were relatively clean, at least for Night City standards though the occasional Valentino-themed graffiti marked the walls, benches, and even some of the parked vehicles.

Golden skulls, roses, and religious iconography were everywhere and Sophie found that she quite liked the Valentino markings. They were more unique compared to the classic tiger image the Tygers used all over the place at least.

Then there was the Valentino presence, which was impossible to miss. ‘Tino members loitered on street corners or leaned against their lowriders, the shine of gold chrome and the morning light reflecting off their tattoos. Sophie slowed her pace, observing them. They didn’t pay her much attention, though she caught the occasional glance, more curious than hostile. She figured it was the menpo making her stand out.

Turning onto another street, Sophie took in the charm of Heywood. It wasn’t spotless or pristine, but it felt alive. Children played on sidewalks, their laughter carrying through the air. Vendors called out to passersby from their stalls, offering fresh fruit, tamales, and trinkets. An older man sat on a porch, strumming a guitar, his voice carrying the bittersweet notes of a ballad. It was... peaceful. Like Jackie Welles would say, the people of Heywood seemed to be one big family.

But the tranquility didn’t last.

A loud commotion snapped Sophie out of her observations. The unmistakable roar of an engine, followed by the sound of gunfire, echoed down the street. Her head turned just in time to see a car screeching around the corner, barreling straight toward her.

Her instincts kicked in. Twisting the throttle, Sophie veered her bike to the side, skidding into the safety of a side alley as the car thundered past. It was covered in 6th Street decal and a hail of bullets followed, ripping through the air where she had been seconds ago.

She barely caught her breath before another car roared past, this one adorned with Valentino colors and chasing the first. The occupants leaned out of the windows, firing at the people from 6th Street.

Sophie watched the chaos unfold, her heart still racing. “Huh. Don’t see that everyday,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

She checked her surroundings and once sure the street was clear, she returned to the road, her pace slower than before. The incident left a sour taste in her mouth, even though it shouldn’t have. She was fully aware that there was nowhere in Night City that was truly peaceful.

Eventually, Sophie reached her destination: a narrow alleyway at the edge of a residential block. The entrance was marked with a mural, a golden skeleton clutching a bouquet of roses. She parked her bike nearby and stepped off, taking a moment to study the artwork. She found it quite pretty and she was curious how the artist managed to capture the level of detail.

Shaking her head and adjusting her jacket, Sophie walked into the alley. The walls were covered in more graffiti, layers of messages and tags competing for space. Some were simple, just names scrawled in hasty script while others were elaborate works of art. The deeper she went, the quieter it became, the sounds of the street fading behind her.

The alley took a sharp turn to the left, and Sophie hesitated for a moment before continuing. As she rounded the corner, the space opened up into a small courtyard.

Padre sat at a table in the corner, surrounded by a group of Valentinos. Some of the gang members leaned against the walls, smoking or chatting quietly, while others inspected their weapons or adjusted their gold-rimmed glasses. Despite their relaxed demeanor, she felt a distinct sense of danger.

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A cursory examination proved her instincts right. Everyone she looked at had at least one visible weapon, whether a pistol or a rifle. Some had multiple and almost all of them had chrome that looked designed for combat. She turned her attention to Padre himself.

The man was dressed casually, a red shirt covered by a burgundy sweater. Around his neck was a gold cross, likely as a homage to his time as a priest. He leaned back in his chair, a cigar resting between his fingers as its smoke curled lazily into the air. His eyes, still clear but filled with a sense of peace and calm, locked onto her as soon as she appeared.

He waved her over, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Sophie hesitated briefly, then began to make her way toward the table. As she moved, her eyes continued to sweep over the gathered gang members, watching for any sign of an ambush. The Valentinos turned their heads as she approached, clearly curious.

Padre’s smile didn’t waver, though his eyes seemed to be studying her every move.

As Sophie reached the table, the faint smell of cigar smoke mixed with some kind of floral scent from nearby. She stopped a few feet away, trying to look relaxed even as her hands scrambled to find a resting place.

“Padre,” she greeted, her voice quiet. She inclined her head slightly, offering a nod of respect she felt was appropriate.

Padre’s smile widened just a fraction as he gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sophie, I presume. Please, have a seat,” he said, his voice was warm but she could tell he was still assessing her.

Sophie moved cautiously to the chair, feeling the Valentinos’ eyes tracking her every step. As she lowered herself into the seat, Padre raised a hand, signaling to the gang members.

“Give us some space, gentlemen,” he said, his tone polite but leaving no room for argument.

The Valentinos exchanged glances before retreating a few steps, scattering to the edges of the alley. Soon, the two of them were left with a semblance of privacy.

Padre turned his attention back to Sophie and she saw kindness in his eyes this time. “They made you uncomfortable,” he said simply.

Sophie hesitated, surprised at the observation. “A little,” she admitted. “Thanks.”

Padre waved a hand as if to dismiss the formality of gratitude. “No need. I like my conversations free from distraction and I suspect intimidation is not the best way to speak with you,” he replied, leaning back in his chair.

He studied her for a moment, the silence stretching just long enough to feel heavy. Then he broke it as he posed a question. “Tell me about yourself, Sophie.”

She shifted slightly in her seat, unsure of how much to reveal. “Not much to tell,” she began. “I don’t have much going on aside from my work. I spend all of my time on the streets completing gigs or training for the next.”

“For one so young, I must wonder why you live that way. But I suspect I already know the answer.” He gave her a knowing look and she put her head down, clenching her fists.

“I hate…I hate the gangs, the scavs. Almost everyone. The way they...treat people. I hated the feelings of powerlessness.” She stopped herself, unsure why she was sharing so much with someone she’d only just met.

Padre nodded slowly. “Understandable. You’ve experienced that feeling yourself, haven’t you? When you mentioned scavs specifically, there was hatred in your voice.”

“Should I not feel that way about them?” She snapped at him.

“No, your feelings are understandable. Few things are more revolting than treating human lives as nothing more than raw material,” he said. “I believe it’s this hatred that gave rise to the slight decline of scavenger presence in Watson and Westbrook?

Sophie glanced at him, unsure if he was humoring her or genuinely agreeing. “Mmm, they’re my preferred target. But it seems no matter how many I kill, they continue to rear their ugly heads.”

“You’re being modest,” Padre said, his smile returning. “Rumors of your work have even reached my ears. Your actions may not have purged them from the city but you’ve demonstrated incredible skills. Discretion, ruthlessness and a willingness to eliminate those that deserve it. These are qualities I admire and appreciate.”

Sophie shifted again, her fingers brushing against the seam of her jacket. “I…Thank you,” she said carefully.

Padre leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “With that said,” Padre continued, “I don’t make decisions lightly. I’ve learned that trust is built on more than reputation.” He reached into his jacket pocket, producing a datashard, and placed it on the table between them.

Sophie’s eyes flicked to the shard, then back to him. “What’s this?” she asked.

“A test of sorts,” Padre replied. “There’s a group operating here in Heywood. Youngsters, really; teenagers trying to prove themselves. I’ve given them a number of warnings but they seem content to ignore me. Recently however, their actions have crossed a line. I have reason to suspect they are working with scavs now.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. The mention of scavs reignited a familiar anger within her.

“They’re not scavs themselves. Or at least, they weren’t a few days ago” Padre clarified, as if anticipating her thoughts. “But just yesterday, the group’s leader was seen speaking with one.”

Sophie nodded, her jaw tightening. “So, you want me to take care of it?”

Padre nodded, his expression calm. “Not necessarily in the way you’re thinking. These are kids, Sophie. I don’t want their lives ended if it can be avoided. But I need you to find out exactly what they’re up to. If they are, as I suspect, beginning to work with the vultures, you will remove them, permanently. But if you can avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I’d prefer it.”

Sophie picked up the datashard, turning it over in her fingers. “Got it,” she said simply.

Padre leaned back again, his smile returning. “Good. Bring me results, Sophie. And if you impress me, there may be more work for you in the future.”

She stood, slipping the shard into her jacket pocket. “I’ll take care of it,” she said resolutely.

As she turned to leave, Padre’s voice stopped her. “Sophie,” he said, his tone softer this time.

She glanced back at him.

“Be careful,” he said, his gaze steady. “Heywood may look peaceful on the outside but it has its dangers, and I’d rather not see someone with your potential snuffed out prematurely.”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “I’ll be fine.”

Padre said nothing more, simply watching as she walked back toward the alley entrance.