Cyberpunk: STRAY

Vincent sat on the edge of his dingy mattress, one hand gripping his injured wrist, the other tapping a restless rhythm against his knee. His tiny apartment in Jig-Jig Street felt even smaller tonight, the suffocating red neon glow from the brothel signs outside filtering through the slatted blinds. The air stank of sweat, booze, and synth-spice—typical for this part of Night City, but tonight it felt worse.

Melissa had outplayed him. That was the brutal truth. He had bullshitted his way through countless situations before, but this time? He had been prey, not predator. The dull, throbbing pain in his wrist and busted lip served as a reminder that he wasn't untouchable.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Vincent took a slow breath, forcing his brain to slow down. Melissa thought he had a lead on Songbird. She bought his bluff, at least for now. That meant she would be watching, waiting, expecting him to produce results. And if he didn't? She'd gut him and leave him in an alley.

So, what options did he have?

Run? Stupid. Where? Even if he had the eddies to disappear, Melissa's reach went far. He had seen enough people try to go ghost only to end up as a cautionary tale.

Find Songbird? Impossible. He didn't even know if she was still in Night City. That lie had been a gamble, and now it was a ticking bomb strapped to his chest.

Flip the script and go awol on them? Dangerous. But maybe his only move.

If he couldn't find Songbird, he needed to find someone who could. He needed allies—people with connections, people who knew how to move in the city's underbelly.

His mind flicked to Rita.

Rita's a bouncer that meets a lot of people, ran with the street docs and data thieves, always up to her neck in some shady hustle. More importantly, she had a nose for who was moving in and out of the city's hidden spaces. If anyone could help him untangle this mess, it was her.

With a grunt, Vincent pushed himself up, wincing as pain shot through his wrist. He wrapped a fresh bandage around it, slipped on his jacket, and stepped out into the street, walking for a hour through pickpockets, joytoys and XBD dealers.

He took the metro to Kabuki, found Rita where she always was—hunched over her buster glitching left arm in a backroom of a hole-in-the-wall braindance shop. She barely looked up when he walked in, her fingers digging into the synthetic muscle fibers on her cybernetic arm.

"You look like shit," she said, not missing a beat.

"Feel worse," Vincent muttered, pulling up a stool. "Need your help."

Rita finally glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You? Asking for help? Damn, it must be bad."

Vincent exhaled. "It is." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I need to find someone. Fast."

Rita scoffed. "You always need to find someone. Who's got you this spooked?"

Vincent hesitated. Saying Melissa's name out loud felt like inviting bad luck, but Rita wasn't an idiot. She could read his tension.

She frowned. "Vincent, what the fuck did you get into?"

Before he could answer, the door creaked open behind them. A figure stepped inside, and Vincent tensed, instinctively reaching for the knife in his jacket, not that it will do anything, but gave him a sense of security—until he saw who it was.

Judy Alvarez.

She gave them both a once-over before crossing her arms. "Didn't expect to see you two in the same place."

Rita leaned back, smirking. "Likewise. What brings you here, Judy?"

Judy's eyes flicked to Vincent. "Was about to ask the same thing."

Vincent forced a casual smile, despite the knots tightening in his gut. "Just Biz."

Judy didn't look convinced. "You look like you've been through a meat grinder."

Vincent chuckled, though it came out more bitter than amused. "Yeah, well… Night City's got a way of keeping you on your toes."

Judy studied him for a moment before sighing. "I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but if you're looking for someone… I don't know for sure but I'll see what I can do."

Vincent's pulse quickened. "Go on."

Judy hesitated, then shook her head. "Not here. Too many ears."

Rita rolled her eyes. "Paranoia much?"

Judy shot her a look. "You should be too."

Vincent nodded. "Fine. Where?"

Judy glanced at the door. "Lizzie's. An hour."

Then she was gone.

Rita whistled low. "Well, shit." She turned to Vincent. "Guess you got your lead."

Vincent exhaled slowly. Maybe. Or maybe he was just stepping deeper into a hole he wouldn't crawl out of.

Vincent and Rita arrived at Lizzie's an hour later, slipping past the bouncers and into the neon-drenched haze of the bar. The music pulsed, bass-heavy and hypnotic, as dancers swayed in dim violet light. Judy was already there, nursing a drink at a booth in the back.

Vincent slid in across from her, Rita beside him. As he reached for his drink, Rita caught his wrist mid-motion, her grip firm but not rough.

"Jesus, Vincent," she muttered, turning his hand over. The bandage was already spotted with fresh blood. "This isn't just some bruise. You break something?"

Vincent shrugged, trying to pull his hand back, but Rita didn't let go immediately. For all her usual sharpness, there was something softer in her expression—pity, maybe. He hated it.

"I'll live," he said, voice flat.

Rita clicked her tongue, finally letting go. "Yeah, until you don't."

Judy watched the exchange in silence, then nodded toward the stairs leading to the VIP lounge. "Let's talk. Just you."

Vincent glanced at Rita, who gave him a look but stayed put. He followed Judy upstairs, weaving past the lingering customers until they found a quiet corner. She leaned against the railing, arms crossed.

"So," she said, watching him carefully. "Who exactly are you looking for?"

Vincent hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Just trying to piece together something about a job gone sideways. Got names floating around, just need to see where they lead."

Judy arched an eyebrow. "And you think I got answers?"

"Think you've been around the right people. You know how things move in this city."

Judy sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Not sure how much I can help. If this is about fixing something that's already broken, you're better off walking away."

Vincent smiled, all fake charm. "Walking away isn't an option."

Judy studied him for a second, then shook her head. "You remind me of someone."

Vincent tilted his head. "That so?"

"Yeah. A real stubborn asshole. Kept pushing, even when the whole city wanted them dead." Judy exhaled, eyes flicking to the crowd below. "If you're looking for ghosts, you might wanna check the Afterlife. Used to be someone there who had all the answers."

Vincent's pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral. "That right?"

Judy didn't say anything for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah. But ghosts don't stick around forever."

Vincent nodded slowly, processing her words. She didn't even realize she had given him a lead. He tucked it away, storing it for later.

"Thanks, Judy," he said, voice light. "Guess I'll see where it takes me."

Judy gave him a long look before turning toward the stairs. "Just… be careful."

Vincent watched her go, his mind already working through the next steps. The Afterlife, huh? Looked like he had his next stop...