Cyberpunk 2077 – Cyber Dogs

Day 1 – Decorating the Hideout 

We hit up a local paint store, expecting the usual rundown Night City dump—grimy shelves, empty cans, half-lit flickering lights. But to my surprise, the place was actually… pretty decent. Clean even. Turns out, paint's a booming business when half the city's gangs are spraying their logos all over their turf like it's some kind of twisted art gallery. 

V scanned the rows of paint buckets, then turned to us with a sigh. 

"Can we please pick another color? Just… not those." 

"Sorry" I replied with a smirk. 

"Woof," added Lola. 

My pick was green—deep emerald, like stealth and tech mixed. Jackie, of course, went for gold. Gotta stand out. Lola? She pawed at a vibrant purple bucket like it was fate. 

V shook her head and took charge. "Okay, if I leave this to you guys, we'll end up with a circus. Let's do red wine with black for the entrance—gives it a warm, classy vibe. Navy blue and yellow for the basements to keep things clean and sharp." 

Jackie squinted at the wall. "It'll probably take two, maybe three days to paint all this." 

"Not necessarily," I said, trying not to grin. "I built something to speed this up. We'll be done in a day." 

"Oh yeah? What'd you make now?" V asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"A paint gun." 

Not just any paint gun. I modeled it after smart weapon systems—calibrated to fire exactly the right amount of paint with insane precision. It adjusts to corners, handrails, and even wall texture. Looks like a rifle outta Splatoon. 

(If you want, picture a Splatoon-style paint weapon here—something tactical but colorful.) 

By the end of the day, we were covered in paint, cracking jokes, blasting music, and actually enjoying ourselves. I handed the paint guns to V and Jackie. 

"Keep 'em. Might wanna redecorate your places someday." 

Day 2 – Found Treasure 

BANG. 

"All clear. That's the last of the Maelstrom scum," V said, wiping her blade clean. 

We'd taken a gig to wipe out a Maelstrom hideout in a low-income neighborhood. Families, elderly folks—good people. They tried calling NCPD, but of course, no response. So, they pooled together some eddies and hired mercs. 

Honestly, most mercs wouldn't bother. Not enough cash, no reputation boost. But we took it anyway. Sometimes it's not about the money. 

While scanning the place post-op, something caught my eye. I knelt down and pulled out a dusty red carpet with deep crimson patterns. 

"Guys! Look what I found!" I held it up like it was treasure. 

Jackie raised a brow. "You found drugs or cash?" 

I rolled it out. "Nah. A carpet." 

Jackie blinked. "Seriously? A rug?" 

V leaned over and actually nodded. "It's not bad. Kinda ties the room together." 

"Exactly! From now on, if we spot any good furniture while doing gigs, we bring it back to the hideout." 

"We'll earn money and furnish the place," V said with a grin. "Smart move." 

And just like that, scavenging for style became part of our side hustle. 

Day 5 – The Brain Project 

"8, you down here?" 

"I'm in the first basement!" I called back. 

V and Jackie came downstairs and froze. The space had transformed into what looked like a next-gen Ripperdoc clinic. High-end medchair in the center, cables everywhere, a massive helmet rig resting beside it. 

"Choom… this looks like a clinic Vik would kill for," Jackie said. 

"What's with the big helmet thing?" V asked. 

I spun around in my chair, smiling. "Not a Ripperdoc setup. It's something I've been wanting to build for a while. Helps strengthen the brain." 

Their faces? Pure confusion. 

"Okay, hear me out," I continued. "Cyberware improves everything—heart, lungs, arms, legs. But the brain? It's still human. Think of it like a motherboard. All that cyberware are the components. But if you overload the motherboard…" 

"It fries," V said, eyes narrowing. "Cyberpsychosis." 

"Exactly. Each new implant chips away at your sanity. The brain struggles to handle the input. Maelstrom's a prime example—they keep installing more until they go full psycho or drop dead." 

"So this chair… helps prevent that?" Jackie asked. 

"Yeah. It scans the body and brain, figures out your cyberware limit, and delivers non-invasive shock therapy. Conditions the brain to handle more mods." 

"Will it cure cyberpsychosis?" V asked, serious. 

"Dunno. I'd need to test it on someone already too far gone. For now, it's about prevention." 

Jackie jumped in first. His brain capacity was solid. Then I showed him a 3D image on the monitor—no abnormalities. 

V's turn. Hers? Nearly double Jackie's. Impressive. 

"This thing's a game changer," V said. 

I nodded. "Might upgrade it later. Add a BD interface. Judy used something similar to teach her friends self-defense. Could be useful." 

Day 7 – Memories and Meditation 

"Take a deep breath… clear your mind… let the soul be cleansed." 

Click. 

"8! Please don't take photos during meditation." 

"Sorry, couldn't resist." 

Misty was visiting, guiding Lola through a soul-cleansing ritual. I snapped a picture using an old-school instant camera—the kind that spits the photo out right away. 

She brought charms too, saying they'd protect us from bad energy. We even hung one on the wall next to our "Memory Wall"—photos of us painting, cleaning, laughing. There were even handprints and signatures. 

"To think you convinced me and Misty to leave handprints here," came a familiar voice. 

I turned. "Vik! You're part of this too, choom. You and Misty are our friends." 

Vik smiled. "Thanks, kid." 

I pinned the new photo on the wall. 

"Alright, while we wait for V and Jackie to get back, let me show you my evil lair! Wahaha!" 

"8. Meditation," Misty warned gently. 

"Right. Sorry. C'mon, Vik." 

Underground Innovations 

I showed Vik the modified gorilla arms—looked like high-end tier 5s. 

"These can punch through solid steel," I said. 

He whistled. "These look expensive as hell." 

"Even better—they're mine. Three times stronger than standard issue." 

Then I pulled up my in-progress Focus. 

"Wait, the Focus? Like the netrunning wet dream?" Vik asked. 

"Not done yet. About 30% complete. In the original game, teams of scientists took years to build it. I'm just one guy." 

"Still… impressive as hell." 

"Now check this out." I held up a transparent heart. 

"Is that… a human heart?" 

"Artificial. 95% close to the real thing. Did a comparison against gangsters with cheap plastic knockoffs. This? This is the future." 

"Kid… your brain's a goldmine." 

I shrugged. "Credit goes to an old movie. Bicentennial Man. Robot wants to become human. Eat, feel, love. One of the best." 

"8, you down here? You gotta see the sofa chair V and I found! Oh—Vik! You came, choom! Wait… are those gorilla arms?" 

Jackie's voice came from the stairs, full of excitement. 

Vik, already standing beside me, chuckled. "Figured I'd drop by since I had some free time." 

I glanced at Jackie, who was staring wide-eyed at the cyberarms. 

"…Hey, kid?" 

Jackie blinked, snapping back. "Sorry, did you say something?" 

I smirked. "Looks like someone's interested in my cyberware. You know, I can sell it to you—friend discount's still good. How about twenty-five grand?" 

Vik raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. Can't blame him—I was basically offering Tier 5 gear at Tier 2 or 3 prices. 

"Think you can go any lower?" 

"Nope." 

"You idiot! That's Tier 5 stuff! That kind of gear usually goes for at least ninety grand. And this one? Modified by 8 to be three times stronger! Worth half a million or more, and he's selling it like it's some Tier 3 junk!" 

Jackie's eyes went wide. "Wait, seriously?" 

I shrugged. "Yeah… or maybe I should just stash it away. Or tear it down and use the parts for something dumb, like a toaster." 

Jackie's panic hit full gear. "Wait, wait, wait! Sorry, I'm in. I'll pay the price. Just don't take it back!" 

Vik and I burst out laughing at Jackie's sudden freak-out. 

In the end, deal sealed—I sold him the gorilla arms. 

"Vik, discount applies to you too—just tier 1 to 2. I'll be careful selling tier 3s. Don't want trouble showing up at your clinic." 

"You won't make much this way." 

"They'd just collect dust otherwise." 

"Alright then. Let's do 50/50. My clinic, your gear." 

I paused, but Vik raised a hand. "My terms. Take it or leave it." 

"Deal." 

Upstairs, Misty was cleansing V's soul now. Lola helped, waving scented candles with her tech tentacles. 

"Sorry to interrupt, but I wanna show everyone something." 

They gathered around as I unrolled a large paper. It was a drawing of a German Shepherd—Lola—but with half her face stylized in cyberware: glowing red optic, metallic jaw, synthetic muscle lines across her neck. A cyberpunk terminator dog. 

"Well?" I asked. 

"It's beautiful," Misty said softly. 

"Using Lola as a mascot?" Vik smirked. 

"No complaints from me," V said. 

"Choom, this looks sick," Jackie grinned. 

Lola barked in approval. 

"Alright," I said. "Everyone's on board. All we need now… is a name." 

End of Chapter.