The Gonk and The Forge (Cyberpunk Edgerunners/2077)

Chapter 9-

Watching the moving targets inside my new gun range explode after being shot by two bullets and be replaced almost instantly is a trip and a half. I have no idea where the damned metal plate is reappearing from, but I am glad it does.

Just watching it pop out from the floor like it's some Call of Duty bullshit is fun.

And knowing that there really shouldn't be another target there waiting to pop out is trippy as fuck. I had checked, thoroughly.

Either way, shooting things is a damn good way to blow away the last remnants of sleep and soreness from my body.

Falling asleep inside the weapons lab was not a fun experience. Sleep in general has not been a very enjoyable experience lately. Especially, falling asleep while working on my new submachine gun.

Well, the complete redesign, and rebuilding of it. While listening to "Classification of Elements and Periodicity in Properties" on the TTS of my smartphone. Turns out, I had done a very good job at making my version of TTS not sound annoying. So much so that it was calming and made me want to fall asleep.

Or that could have been the sleep deprivation that I had forced myself into for the past few days? Or it could have been lethargy catching up to me after everything. It had been a day and a half since everything that happened at the diner.

Thankfully, I hadn't been bothered much on my outings and shopping trips any of the times I had stepped out. There hadn't been much word from Archie, or anyone else and I got the time to prepare somewhat.

I'd forced myself to head to Jig-Jig Street once again before starting my project; to purchase an SMG from the Budget Arms Vending Machine in the square there.

I had wanted to make use of my holotable's weapon schematics breakdown feature and compare the design of the cheapest SMG available in NC to the schematics the forge had basically handed to me preinstalled in the holotable's database.

The SMG I had gotten was called the Budget Arms Guillotine, worth a little over what had been my weekly wage at the diner at about 350 €$.

It is an ugly thing made mostly out of cheap plastic. So much so that it looks like a nerf gun. A really ugly, yellow Nerf gun. But that was to be expected, it's in the name after all.

Budget Arms.

They're really into holding up the 2nd Amendment here in NC. Considering the US Constitution isn't the law of the land here, I don't understand why. Which puts my fear of 'being put on a list' for purchasing a gun sound totally stupid in hindsight…. but well….

The gun is so impractical that it's almost funny. The labels on the thing outright guarantee that the gun will melt after running through two magazines, about ninety rounds of automatic fire. That is if the gun hasn't already been destroyed under the heat of the sun via melted plastic or exploded in your hands while firing.

Though, now that I think about it with a clearer, less sleep-deprived head, the gun is meant to be disposable. It's a disposable, untraceable crime gun. For all the criminals that would love to have a firearm that wouldn't be linked to them if found on the crime scene….

If you had some guy you wanted to off; well, you could pop on over to the vending machine, get the gun, empty the clip in the poor idiot's gut, and move on with your day. By the time an entire magazine is emptied, well all markers and indicators on the gun would have melted off…. and there'd be nothing left to connect the gun to whoever had used it.

Truly the perfect poor man's assassination weapon.

If only it were in any way practical for an all-out shootout… as in the very thing it was marketed for.

The only thing that is even remotely praiseworthy about it is the integrated holosights. The fact that such a cheap, unreliable weapon comes with sights that effectively keep track of rounds in the magazine, as well as automatically zero itself to the distance of the target it's being aimed at is a massive feat.

I had replaced everything else about it in my redesign of it. From the wire stock to the plastic shell, and even the basic structure of the damn thing itself. I would have dismantled the gun entirely if I was simply modifying it, but that was a lost cause. The gun would likely forever sit in my lab's armory now.

The new gun I had crafted, certainly made good use of the programming of the sights the Guillotine came with. Only now, I had an attachable version of them rather than an integrated piece.

Along with a proper folding stock, a fully metal body, and a grip handle for accuracy. All from the best of the best weapon schematics my forge granted holotable had to offer. This mixed with the homing rounds and magical bullet effects…. my new gun was exactly the kind of over-engineered monstrosity I needed in a city like this.

Yes, needed.

Bullets on their own were already excellent at killing whatever they were fired at. A bullet to the head will absolutely kill anyone... provided they are not toting skin tougher than iron and laced with subdermal armor.

Which basically meant every other person in the street.

Subdermal plating was so standard that a clean shot to the head wasn't the end of a fight—it was the opening of negotiations. With every shot you had to think about how many layers of chrome you would have punched through before doing any sort of viable damage. Which also explained why the goddamned NCPD had authorized shooting limbs as warning shots in their negotiation protocols…..

No. I should not be attempting to make excuses for them!

Though I didn't need a hundred different magical effects to effectively neutralize anything and everything, just two effects placed alternatingly in the magazine would do.

I was already making use of freezing bullets. To compound the effect and make it more deadly, I had chosen to go for an instantaneous thermal effect for every second round in the magazine. In a way to induce thermal shock….

Its funny…. A few months ago I would have been the last person who would be figuring out the best way to ensure that whatever I shot died instantly. Heck just a few weeks ago, even if I had the means to build what I had managed to right now, with the skills and resources I had; I would have still hesitated on following through. On account of maintaining my illusion of 'privacy' or not bringing unwanted attention to myself….

Now?

Well, fuck that too.

Privacy was quite literally an illusion here. Whatever false pretense of privacy I had hoped I would have here, had already been destroyed first by Kenta, then the scavs, and now even by Okada. Hell, even the Junkie on the street knew me to some measure….

There was no hiding away and hoping that people would leave me alone. Honestly, I had hoped that I would have some time before my privacy was forever violated and people would come after me. I had no delusions that I would be forever left alone in the city… well not really, I did have some hope for that, but internally I knew that it was an inevitability either way, I had just hoped it didn't happen so quickly.

I suppose that's the ground reality of living in a hyper-futuristic corporate surveillance state. Every two-bit computer geek with Kiroshi's in their eye sockets, and a cyberdeck in their head has access to anything and everything from your shoe size to your deepest darkest secrets, all courtesy of a few corporate databases.

Either way, even if I could maintain my privacy, I was preparing for a very dangerous situation.

We were planning to attack some part of the operation led by Jae-Hyun's scav cell, a gang operation…. and I have no idea what an appropriate response to such a thing should be… I was hoping that my philosophy of 'throw everything I have at the problem' was enough to pull me through it.

That it would be enough to make sure that Archie, her boyfriend, whoever else Archie gets to join in and even the merc Rebecca live through it.

The most I could do to create a layer of obscurity between me and whoever else would come looking for me because of my actions, essentially amounted to hiding my face, wearing a mask, staying invisible using a potion, and hoping it would be enough.

Likely not. I didn't have the capabilities to actively hack into people's Kiroshi's and cameras and obfuscate their visions of me…. disregarding the goddamned ethics of doing that.

…. yeah. It felt like I would be violating the very sanctity of people's minds if I even attempted that. The very fact that I was even thinking about the idea was enough to show how much Night City had affected me.

Fortunately, it was decidedly not a possibility… yet. Hopefully wouldn't be for a while…

I need to get out of the workshop. I have been here, asleep for… about five hours now and my back was so stiff and numb, I half-expected it to creak like an old door. The gun I had been working on is complete, now resembling a more standard compact SMG. Thankfully, testing the gun had done wonders for my back.

I had designed it to be a concealable weapon, something I could hide under my jacket, and I think I have succeeded. Before heading on over to la la land, I'd even managed to finish about five magazines worth of my bullets for it. Freezing, and thermal rounds alternating one after the other, chambered in .45 caliber hollowed-out bullets.

I considered it a very productive day.

Stretching to ease the last of the aches in my back, butt, and legs, I look around at the rest of the workshop. Everything else seems to be in order…. apart from the shiny new bar of Gold beside the goddamned chemical synthesizer.

I had mostly made use of the synthesizer to produce CETN-3 for the freezing bullets, apart from the one time I had gotten it to produce that bar of Gold. I wanted to not waste my ingredient supplies on the freezing bullets, when I could produce them in nigh infinite amounts with this.

I had instead used most of my supply of ingredients for the flame bullets. My potion-imbued bullets start a fire that burns through everything it touches, indiscriminately for about a minute. Now, I was just about out of ingredients, and cash in hand to head out to Kabayan to purchase more.

Apart from the meager sum in my bank account…. and this bar of gold.

Honestly, I had printed this in a sleep-addled state of mind. Selling gold for quick cash, seed capital and all that was genius… but I had neglected one thing. I had no idea where to sell the damn thing in the first place.

El Dorado Pawn Shop comes to mind first…. I had gotten my old phone from there….. okay, bad idea. Walking in there with a twelve-ounce bar of gold is bound to get me some weird looks, and people asking questions, especially after the fact that the last time I'd been there, I had been strapping for cash to afford a decades-old phone.

Somebody discrete was necessary…. That fixer, Okada is whom I can think of next.... yeah, no. I am not going to a Yakuza with this. She was already looking into me …. I do not want to add to whatever else she knows about me already.

Goddamn it, I had been trying to ignore that! A Yakuza Leader is involved in the management of my apartment. Has such massive leverage over me, over the place I live…. I can't deal with that.

A problem for fucking later! Like so many others. I will probably have to move out soon.

I think I will worry about selling the gold later as well, as I put on my newly worked-over jacket, and clothes and hide away my new weapons beneath them. Thankfully, the way I had worked on these clothes had helped massively.

The last thing I was able to upgrade were my clothes. Kevlar was cheap enough in small quantities, and I had effectively integrated it into my jacket. But I had spent some time trying to look for some other, better options to help me toward complete and utter bulletproofing. I was not there yet.

What I had come across was not something I was very keen on making use of…. Turns out, RealSkinn cyberware are fabrics. Gene-Tek fabrics that essentially mimic realistic skin. I had a small supply of it, from my forage through dumpsters… It was bulletproof to a degree and was essentially always meant to be paired with other cyberware. Most often just simple subdermal armor…..

Yeah…. I was not keen on wearing other people's skin on account of making myself bullet proof.

Moving on….

As soon as I get out of my pocket dimension by the closet door, I feel a vibration in my trouser pockets as I get a notification for a text message on my smartphone.

Its Archie. She's finally reaching out looks like.

Archie:

Im zippin u the coords for a club called Empathy. by corp plaza. We're meeting here on 2nd flr lounge. tell the chick up front ur here for Lounge 3, she'll let u thru.

Me:

Hey! how are u? and a club? fr??? why? and why in corp center?? U sure that's a good idea?

Archie:

does it matter? ethan set it up. says hes chooms with the owner. larry or some shit. we'll go over the detes of everything I got from wakako there.

Me:

…alright… when am I s'posed to be there?

Archie:

in about an hour or so. right after midnight. ethan and I will be there by 12.

Me:

got it. i'll be there. anything else i should know?

Archie:

yeah. pack ur iron. especially what u showed me

btw… u said u were checking ur contacts for peeps that cud help. anything pan out?

Me:

yeah. one of the mercs ur dad hired back at ethan's. owed me a favor and said she'd help. rebecca.

Archie:

the short chick? pale realskinn, lime green hair, pink tats? wore a jacket with her bra n undies out??

Me:

lol yeah. her. she's cool. she seemed nice when we talked. seemed like she'd be one who keeps her word.

Archie:

u trust her? why she sticking her neck out for this? did you offer her some pay? how much did she ask?

Me:

she didn't ask for money. she'd given me her number. said she owed me for 'sticking my neck out for her' or whatever. u know what happened.

Archie:

ugh… yeah. ur dumbass gonk move. but ok. she's paying off a debt. zip her the coords then. see u there.

Me:

👍😊 take care, Arch.

That means I have to leave and be in the Corporate Center in an hour…. damn, I slept way too long.

I waste no time gathering the rest of my things; potions, keys, and revolver as I place a call to Rebecca down the building on my way to the car. My SMG is already secure in my jacket.

It takes her a while to answer the call, I have already turned out of the garage and into the late-night street when she picks up.

I had already filled her in about what had happened earlier that day, and she had agreed to help almost instantly.

"Heey~ round cheeks! Did you get the detes on the op your friend wanted to set up? Is your friend ready with her crew and everything?" She asked, as my new phone displayed a holographic rendition of her on the dash of the car where my phone was propped in a holder.

I'd repurposed the holovid tech of the Seocho, and combined it with the holographic pop-out display to be able to do this. A Pseudo holovid. The only thing it lacked was a way to accurately map my face for the other party to be able to see me.

I kept my focus on the road, as I said "Hello, Rebecca–"

"Aww, I told you already, you can call me Becca, y'know" She cut me off as she grinned soulfully at me.

"Ahh.. yeah. Sorry." I answered sheepishly.

Rebecca was very personable and extremely easy to like. She was also a merc and therefore very dangerous, so I was having difficulties treating her as the excitable person she clearly was. 

"Hello, Becca…." I corrected myself "I just got word from Archie. I am sending you the location of a club. It's called Empathy, over in Corp Center? Apparently, we're meeting there in an hour. Will you be able to make it?"

Rebecca's eyes shot up, and she let out a long whistle "Empathy…. wow. I have never been there, too rich for my blood. I've heard they've got preem laser pop over there all night. Bet that's her little vampire's doing. What's his name? Evan or something?"

She meant lawyer. "Ethan Kim. And yeah, she did say he set it up."

The excitable woman nodded "So, what do you think? Think we're going through with the op tonight?"

I nodded and gulped as I drove up along traffic over the Silk Road Bridge. "…Archie told me to pack some iron, so I think so. Yeah…"

Rebecca must have noticed my trepidation as all hints of levity vanished from her face "…. Tell me honestly…. You're really doing this sort of thing for the first time, aren't ya?"

Hot damn I was bad at hiding things. It's not that I don't know how to lie or keep secrets. I've told my fair share of them; I am no saint after all. But there are so many things to juggle, so many things happening that everything up and including this new 'Op' we were going on was overwhelming.

"Tell ya what?" She said after a moment, "I am not that far away from Corpo Plaza at the moment. I will meet you at the club in ten? Lets you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

I have no idea what she'd want to tell me. I was ready for this. I was not backing out of hitting back at the scavs or whatever. They needed to pay for Rafael….. but I would appreciate a friendly ear, from someone who's experienced similar high-stakes situations happening frequently in her life.

I nodded and said "Yeah…. I would appreciate that. I have some things I want to ask you too. Meet me inside? The lady up front should let you in after you tell her that you're there for Lounge three."

She smiled at me through the hologram, even though she couldn't see me "Preem, see ya soon then!"

And she cut the call…. Is it weird that I am dreading the interaction that I have just agreed to? No, the weird thing is out of all the different things that I'm going to be doing tonight, I am dreading a goddamn talk with a potential friend.

Alright. No backing out of commitments, ghosting people is rude and mean. Especially, if they're trying to help. I didn't have such problems back home. I was a sociable person. I was merely overwhelmed by all this.

I didn't need to be. I had prepared for the Operation… shootout… whatever we were doing. My overkill SMG is with me. My potions are also on me. I am wearing cross-patterned Kevlar-integrated clothing. I have nothing to worry about.

It didn't take me long to reach the club that Archie had booked for us. There was still time to midnight.

The club was near the mega-corporate shopping center and had an alley at the side, in which I parked my car.

The entrance to Empathy was a sensory overload in and of itself, even by Night City standards.

Neon lights bathed the area in a sharp blue and pink glow, with the club's name blazing bright in bold red letters above the doorway. Holographic pole dancers twisted and swayed on either side of the entrance, their movements smooth and hypnotic. Behind them, giant cyberbabe posters advertised "Love Hur," with other sultry models beckoning patrons inside.

Laser pop music thumped through the air, its sharp, synthetic beats vibrating through the pavement. The crowd milling around was a mix of corporate elites, street punks, and everything in between, each dressed in bold, cutting-edge fashion. The atmosphere buzzed with energy.

The line to get in stretched down the block, guarded by bouncers with glowing optics scanning IDs and biometric data, and SID chips. Even from this distance, I could feel the pulse of the club reaching out like a beacon, drawing people in with promises of escape and indulgence.

I cut past the entire thing. I was not wasting my time standing around in a line, especially when Archie'd gotten a reservation or something.

The bouncer crossed his arms as I approached, towering over me with the kind of presence that told you he didn't need half his chrome to break someone in half.

"Can't see the line, choom? Or do you think you're preem enough to skip it?" He said staring me, scanning me non-stop.

I couldn't help the faint twitch of annoyance at his tone. "Im here on reservation…for Lounge 3?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, glowing a faint orange as he scanned me from head to toe even more thoroughly; running my face through some corporate database.

After a moment, his expression relaxed slightly, though his overly cocky demeanor didn't vanish. He stepped to the side, motioning me toward the front desk.

"Alright, you check out. Head inside, go to the front desk. She'll sort you out." He intoned.

I gave him a curt nod and moved past. The heavy bass of the laser pop grew louder as I stepped into the glowing, pulsating club.

I heard the others in the line complain as I walked past them.

"Hey! Why are you letting him in?! We've been waiting for over an hour at this point! Do you know who I work for?! Arasaka bitch!"

"…sheesh, they'll let anyone in these days..."

"Aren't monks not supposed to be in clubs and shit? They're supposed to be seeking Moksha or something right? My guru told me about it this one time I was in Nepal…"

I ignored all of that, as I approached the front desk of the club. The entire room was bathed in soft blue light. There was a door to my left, that was covered with red scanning lasers.

A woman sat behind a sleek, glowing terminal at the front desk. Her outfit was very corporate; suit, pants, tie; and all that. Fitting for a high-end receptionist. Her smile was polished and professional, her tone smooth as silk.

"Hi! Welcome to Empathy, you can forget all your worries with us! What can I get for you today?" she smiled, gesturing toward the pulsating atmosphere of the club. "Looking for a private dance? Maybe a hardcore BD? Or how about some of our latest virtus with the city's best dancers? Or… something softer?"

I paused at the questions. They offered BDs for people to experience…. Maybe I could…? No, I am not here for VR porn bullshit, and this is definitely not the place to be asking what the hell XBDs are. Besides, I don't have the Cyberware to interact with neural interfacing and shit.

I shook my head "I'm here for Lounge 3," I said firmly.

Her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted slightly, and she nodded, turning to her terminal. "And whose name is the reservation under?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the screen.

"It's under Ethan Kim, I believe," I replied, keeping my tone polite.

The woman nodded and began typing on her terminal, the faint glow of the screen reflecting on her perfectly manicured nails. After a few moments, she glanced back up at me with a practiced smile.

"Ah, yes. There's a private booking for Lounge 3. It's not open yet, but in the meantime, feel free to survey the bar—or, if you'd prefer, enjoy the company of one of our dancers. Privately, if you would prefer," she offered.

I shook my head quickly, trying not to make the moment awkward. "No, thank you. I'll wait for Lounge 3 to open."

She nodded, unbothered by my refusal. "Of course. Welcome to Empathy. The way inside is to your left," she said, gesturing toward the door lined with red scanning lasers.

I nodded in thanks and made my way toward the entrance. As I approached the laser weapons detector, another large bouncer stepped in front of me, blocking my path with a raised hand.

"Not so fast, sir" he grunted, his glowing orange optics narrowing as he looked me over. "This is a civilized establishment. Strictly no-iron zone. Place your weapons in the locker to your side." He gestured toward a sleek set of lockers built into the wall. "Scan your biometrics or SID to lock it up…"

I had looked up SIDs when I had arrived here. Subcutaneous Identification Devices. They were key to life here in NC and worldwide A global standard really. They were placed on top of the thumb, by the metacarpal bone I believe.

They were used as identification that were used for just about everything, opening doors to houses, cars to large payment transactions that required signatures, IDs, etc., and even Voting…

I didn't have it. Obviously.

This also meant I had no voting rights in Night City, not that I even knew who were the right candidates to vote for here. I knew Lucius Rhyne or some other fat ass was the mayor, but I didn't know who he was, what he did, what he wanted, or whose pockets were lining his.

Frankly, I didn't care about that.

I had no voting rights. I was not a citizen here. Well, that was clear, obviously. I was a nomad refugee after all. And one of the major requirements to being a citizen …. anywhere in the world, was to have a chip installed in my hand.

Yeah…. I don't think I am getting that. There has to be a way for people like me, who have no cyberware to live properly here in this world.

Oh, who am I kidding? Corporate greed won't allow that. I can't be deluding myself about shit like this anymore. Too much had happened already to have such naïve hopes. My efforts to become a naturalized citizen would need to come about some other way.

For most mundane things, SID signatures could be generated by other devices, like my smartphone. Can't have people not paying for things now, can they?

Voting on the other hand, oh no. No, sir. You need a chip that always tracks you and does whatever other bullshit they can get away with for that.

I sighed, as I placed my SMG, and revolver inside one of the lockers to the side and locked it with my handprint scan, and smartphone's data term encryption feature. I had no issues with being unarmed here, I still have my potions on me.

The cops had overlooked those in patting me down the other day, and I don't think they will be cause for concern to anybody. They genuinely look and seem like water, vinegar or sour lemonade on casual observation.

"See wasn't that easy?" The bouncer snarked and stepped aside letting me through.

I ignored him and walked past…. and this place was a strip club. Of course. I should have figured.

The club was a chaotic symphony of neon and motion. A massive double-tiered platform rose in the center of the room, elevated like some cybernetic altar to indulgence. Laser lights crisscrossed the space, casting sharp beams of pink and blue that danced across the glossy floors and pulsating walls.

At the base of the platform, a crowd moved to the sharp, synthetic beats of laser pop, bodies pressed together in a hypnotic rhythm. The air vibrated with bass, almost overwhelming, the music and lights melding into a sensory overload.

Above them, on the elevated platform, dancers moved with impossible grace. Women and a few men, their scant clothing replaced with shimmering LED cyberware that traced glowing patterns over their bodies. The women, completely bare except for the thin, pulsating lights running along their curves, swayed in time with the music.

At least they had some form of tech clothing that covered their privates. Well, if being covered by perfectly shaped cyberware pasties stitched into their bodies that flashed neon and attracted attention to them could be considered covered, then they were covered.

Their bodies practically became living, glowing dance-boards, the neon trails accentuating every movement and pulsing with the beat of the music.

I had been to bars, dance clubs, house parties, and the like back home. But a strip club was new to me. My mom would be so disappointed if she knew I was here. My sister on the other hand would be laughing her butt off, that I had stepped into a strip club.

Not the time to think about them. Nope.

I ignored the dance floor, and the dancing babes, and made my way to sit at the bar. There were other seats and booths around me with bead curtains around me. Some of them had dancers performing semi-private dances for the patrons seated inside.

"…I'm telling you choom! The bitch klepped all my money, the gig went perfect like…" a woman slurred as I walked by.

"ugh… yer bein' a gonk. Fixer told you to do it on the hush-hush, no witnesses and all." the woman's friend replied "Of course if you kill all of em there, she'd not going to pay you what was agreed upon!"

"aww…. But I left no witnesses. Like she asked" The woman hiccuped dramatically "There was no one left to talk anymore, were there…?"

Right.

I arrived at the bar, ignoring all the chatter, and sat down.

I was feeling nervous, honestly. A lot was about to happen. I was going to be deliberately attacking a gang operation or something. I was going to have some sort of a chat with a nice mercenary lady. A really cute, nice mercenary lady.

Okay, that was not important… but still. I was dreading both those things. Actually, I didn't know what I dreaded more than the other. The talk with Rebecca, if I have to make a choice. If only it was a more immediate concern…. and nothing else.

"Hey, I'm Angie! What can I get for you" The barmaid said, as she walked on over to me. She smiled at me, "Something for your nerves?"

I hadn't sat down to actually drink anything but now that I was being asked, I couldn't help but look through the selection they had on the shelf.

A lot of it was already a no-go, on account of my alchemy sense pinging off weird mixes inside. But surprisingly there were a couple of bottles that seemed clean to me. Donaghys, Almagnac, a Chateau Delen if I am reading the labels correctly.

Fuck it… I could go for some liquid courage right about now.

I finally settled. "Yeah, I'll have two glasses of Almanac, please? With ice."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she let out a low whistle. "Ah, The good stuff. Alright, I see you. Big night, huh?"

Her comment made me shift in my seat, uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just waiting for someone. That's all…"

She picked up on it immediately and raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, no worries. I'm not prying," she said, her smile softening. "Just doing my job. You need anything else, though, I'm right over here alright?"

I nodded, grateful for the tact. "Thanks."

She poured the drink with the kind of precision that spoke of years behind the bar and slid it over to me with a casual ease. Then she turned and moved on to another customer.

And finally, at last after over a day of dormancy, the forge awoke again in the back of my mind.

The galaxy stirred, faint points of starlight shimmering in the infinite expanse of my mind. A constellation began to shift, its stars revolving in an intricate dance.

One star pulsed—bright, golden, steady. Its light grew, flooding the void, before collapsing inward, settling deep into my soul.

I blinked as the forge stilled. My hands flexed instinctively, a quiet understanding forming. Crafting now wasn't just about utility. Beauty, form, and elegance flowed naturally. Whatever I made next would catch the eye, whether mortal or divine.

Wonderful… another nail in the coffin over my delusions of privacy.

Did Gods even exist….? I suppose if the forge existed, and eldritch entities did… then Gods weren't a far fetched idea. I don't know if I liked the implication of all that…

A few minutes later, as I was halfway through my drink, a drunk woman stumbled up to the bar. She had long, wavy hair and a neon flashing dress that sparkled under the neon lights. She smiled at me, leaning on the counter with one elbow.

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world, handsome," she said with a slight slur, swirling the straw in her brightly colored drink. "Bad day? Bad week? Spill. I'm all ears!"

I recognized what she was doing almost immediately. She'd marked me to push something onto me.

I shook my head politely. "I'm just waiting on someone."

She giggled, . "Well, if you need something to take the edge off, the boosters here are amazing. Bathrooms are stocked if you're interested, look for Otis." She leaned in a little closer, her smile turning mischievous. "And if you wanna forget whatever's eating you, there's–"

"Zaineyyy! There you are!" Someone cut in. I remembered that voice. "I was looking for ya all over this gonk place!"

Rebecca was finally here. She was dressed in her jacket and was smiling up at me from behind the woman seated beside me.

Her arms had been replaced by two massive, mismatched Pink and Blue Gorilla arms. Wait… cyberware like that's allowed in the club?

No… not my problem.

The woman turned to Rebecca, her brow furrowed in confusion before glancing back at me. "You know this bitch?" she slurred, clearly unimpressed.

My patience snapped. "Hey, that's uncalled for! I won't have you insulting my friends," I said firmly, my tone colder than I intended. "Please, leave."

Her eyes widened in outrage, and she opened her mouth to fire back, but Rebecca was faster. "You heard him hag! Scram," she said.

The drunk woman huffed, glaring at both of us before pushing herself off the bar. "This is what you get for trying to show some kindness to gonks," she muttered under her breath, and then turned to me one last time "When you come to your senses and want to mingle with civilized chooms…. I'll be over there!" pointing to a booth in the corner with some of her friends and left.

What a bitch!

Rebecca sighed heavily, sliding onto the stool the woman had vacated. She glanced at my glass, then at me, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "So, you always go for the top shelf in places like this?" she asked, resting her elbow on the bar. Her gorilla arms thudded on the counter.

I shrugged, swirling the remaining Armagnac in my glass. "It's the only thing I thought I'd like." Passing the other glass to her.

Rebecca stared at me flatly, her smirk fading into a deadpan expression. "Right… and you always let the whole club know you can cut eds like that on drinks and shit like this?"

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. "It's not like that, I don't have …." I started.

Ah, I see… I'd basically advertised to everybody that I had money to blow through tonight. I was dipping into my savings account with Marmur bank for this. I could afford it now, I suppose. The gold bar in my pocket dimension is answer enough for that.

But she's right. I should be more careful.

"Sure it's not," she said, taking a sip of the offered drink and humming at the taste, her oversized arms failing to grasp the glass properly a few times. She didn't let me offer to help. "You're lucky half the gonks in here are too busy ogling the dancers to care. Next time, maybe don't flex your wallet like a Corpo's kid slumming it for a night."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and then sighed "Y'know, if it were anybody else… they'd get the wrong idea."

I glanced at her, finishing my drink and then signaled the bartender for another. "What are you talking about Becca?"

Rebecca shrugged with a smirk, swirling her glass lazily. "I mean, you invite a girl to a fancy-ass place like this, pay for her drinks, defend her honor and all that… what's a girl supposed to think?"

The bartender returned, setting down my fresh glass with a soft clink. I picked it up, looking at Rebecca with a flat expression. "Right. And that's clearly what I was doing here. Just an elaborate ruse to get with you, nothing else. Definitely not wringing my head over the fact I'm about to get into a deadly shootout or anything tonight."

Rebecca quirked a brow, leaning back slightly. "Hey, you made the choice there, choom. No one's forcing you. You can still back out, you know."

I stared at her for a moment, letting the words hang in the air before replying. "You know that's not possible. My friend's dead, and someone needs to pay."

She didn't respond immediately, her expression softening just a fraction as she stared into her drink. After a beat, she sighed and nodded. "Right. Alright then, you're doing this." She swirled the last of her drink before downing it in one quick gulp. Setting the glass down, she stood up, stretching slightly. "Let's have that chat we said we'd have."

I frowned slightly, watching her. "Where are you going?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "We need quiet. I've got a lot to ask, and you don't look like you're gonna relax here. We're heading to the lounge."

Quiet sounded good. I turned to the bartender, pulling out my smartphone. "Send the tab over to Lounge 3?"

She nodded, giving me a small, professional smile. "Of course. I'll take care of it. You two take care now."

Rebecca waited for me by the edge of the bar as I stood and followed. For some reason, Rebecca decided to climb the stairs using the fingers of her Gorilla arms like makeshift spider legs…. moving on.

The view of the dancers was somehow even more provocative from up here.

I ignored them as we approached Lounge number 3. Rebecca scanned her SID on the pad, and the lock flashed green. The door slid open.

The lounge was dimly lit, bathed in a pulsing orange and red glow that bounced off the sleek, metallic surfaces of the room. A massive screen dominated the far wall, displaying an image of a werewolf holding a knife to its own head, flexing against a bright neon-red background. The sound of muted bassline laser pop pulsed faintly.

In the center of the room, a low, rectangular table stood on a geometric-patterned floor, with a holoprojector embedded just above it. It was currently displaying a life-sized holographic woman dancing provocatively on the table. Her body was fully naked, though her privates were barely obscured—her nipples flashing neon, and a thin glowing strip of cyberware covering her womanhood.

To the side of the room, a private bar was stocked with an impressive selection of premium drinks. Bottles of every shape and size lined the shelves, glowing faintly in soft blues and greens under the lighting.

And more importantly, on the couch, there were two dudes half naked, locked in a heated make-out session.

Rebecca cleared her throat, loud and deliberate, attempting to gain the attention of the two men tangled up on the couch.

They didn't even flinch, too busy shoving their tongues down each other's throats to notice anyone else in the room.

She turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "You said we'd have this lounge to ourselves…? What gives?"

I glanced at my watch, frowning. "Yeah, this is supposed to be our time. It's just about midnight."

Rebecca nodded, her face flat and unamused. "Right then."

Without warning, she curled her mismatched Gorilla Arms into fists and brought them down hard onto the table in the center of the room. The loud thud echoed off the walls, sending the two guys scrambling and tumbling off each other in a flurry of limbs.

"W-what the hell?!" one of them shouted, still half-drunk and wide-eyed as he tried to straighten his shirt. "Can't you see we're busy in here?!"

Rebecca crossed her arms, leveling them with an unimpressed stare. "Well, lovebirds, your time's up. You need to leave."

The other guy, a little braver—or dumber—leaned back on the couch and smirked. "Hey, you guys can get your own little corner if you like. There's plenty of space in this room for all four of us."

Rebecca clicked her teeth, her hand moving to the pistol holstered on her thigh. She brandished it casually, the gleaming barrel catching the glow of the hologram. "Sorry, couldn't hear you over the laser pop. What was that?"

The smirk disappeared in an instant, and the guy stuttered, raising his hands in surrender. "O-okay, okay! We're leaving! Chill out!"

The two scrambled to gather their belongings, avoiding Rebecca's icy glare as they made their way out of the room. The door slid shut behind them, and the lounge finally fell quiet again.

Rebecca plopped onto the couch, grabbing a bottle from the nearby bar and pouring herself a drink. I looked at her, still processing the interaction. "How'd you even get the gun in here? Didn't they take it off you at the entrance?"

Rebecca turned her head slowly, giving me a deadpan look. "Of course, you fell for that." She muttered and took a sip of her drink. "I should've figured." She eyed me for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "You're a total gonk brain… d'you know that?"

I stared at her in silence. I did recognize that I had been stupid over a lot of my decisions in the past month, but she would have to be more specific about what she was talking about.

At my lack of response, she continued "Alright… I'm gonna cut the bullshit and tell you what I know."

I nodded and she finished the last of her drink.

"You're not a nomad." She stated, after righting herself on the couch.

I did not react. It was true. I did not care if she had figured it out.

"That is very clear. You're new to the city. That's also very clear. You're like… super sheltered, and I mean, I can see that whatever happened with your friend hurt you… but you're still in over your head with everything…." She said.

I looked at her flatly. "Go on, I'm listening…"

She sighed and then took her time gathering her thoughts "And I don't want to know what's the deal behind that… you're clearly uncomfortable about whatever happened that landed you in the city, I can respect that. Shit, I gave you my number in case you needed help in whatever fucked up mess this city puts you through…"

I leaned back in my chair and nodded. At the least, I appreciated her not wanting to know the actual details about my past.

"But then…" she continues "out of nowhere… you go and pull this. I expected you'd call when you fell into some deep shit. Like, I don't know, the Tygers came after you for rent money, or whatever. But nooo… you called because your choom died, and you want to help your choom's daughter get revenge."

Rebecca leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her eyes locked on mine. Her tone was sharper now, less teasing, more serious. "Look, I'm not saying that's bad. Wanting to help your friend's kid? That's preem. That's loyalty. But this?" She gestured around the room, then at me, her mismatched Gorilla Arms flexing slightly. "You're gearing up for a full-on bloodbath, Zainey. And the thing is, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who's used to that."

I didn't respond, letting her words settle. She wasn't wrong, but I didn't know what she expected me to say.

Rebecca sighed, leaning back into the couch and running a hand through her lime green hair. "Here's the thing—this city chews people up for way less than what you're planning. You step on the wrong toes, and suddenly it's not just you in the crosshairs. It's Archie, her boyfriend, everyone else you care about. You ready for that? People like me… most of the time we can handle on that… fuck half of us live on the edge."

Rebecca sighed, her eyes dropping to the drink in her hand as she swirled it absentmindedly. "Still not enough," she muttered. "You know, just yesterday, David showed up with this gig from Wakako, got it right after we were done with yours actually. A clean rescue job, supposedly. Except she stuck some kid on us to 'help.' Julio. He was young—hell, younger than you, younger than David." Her voice cracked slightly, and she quickly downed her drink before continuing. "The gig went well, yeah. We saved the target. But Julio? Kid walked onto a mine."

I stared at her, the weight of her words settling uncomfortably in my chest. She leaned forward again, resting her elbows on her knees and looking at me with an intensity I hadn't seen before.

"So I need to know, Zain," she said, taking her feet off the table and leaning forward. "What's really going on here? Who are you, really? I don't need the details—I'm not asking for your life story—but I need to understand what I'm getting myself into. What I might have to bail you out of when shit goes sideways. And it will go sideways, trust me."

I took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. She deserved something, some kind of explanation, if I was dragging her into this mess. "You're right," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. "I'm not a nomad. I've never stepped foot in the Badlands. Hell, a month ago, I didn't even know what the Badlands were."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she stayed quiet, letting me speak.

"I can't go into detail," I continued, rubbing the back of my neck. "But what I told you the other day? Most of it was true. Except for the nomad part. I really did just… end up here, somehow. I don't know how or why, but when I did, there was already a background for me, like someone had laid it all out. My apartment? Paid for. My 'nomad' cover story? Already set up. I'm just a guy, Rebecca."

Rebecca's expression softened, just a little, as I spoke.

"I'm worried sick," I admitted,. "About all of this. About Archie. About everything. But I don't have options. This city's left me with none. My friend is dead, and I'm in over my head, but… but damn it, Becca, I'm not gonna sit back and let the bastards who did it get away with it. I can't."

Rebecca nodded slowly, her lime green hair catching the dim light as she leaned back against the couch. "Alright," she said after a moment, her voice softer now. "I believe you, Zainey. if you're doing this, you've got me, and I'll make sure you don't get flatlined on your first rodeo. Deal?"

"Deal," I said, my voice firmer this time.

"Great!" She chirped, and her expression brightened "And for that…. I got you something!"

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a large book. It looked like a magazine really. A scribbled over magazine.

"A visitors nomads' guide to Night City!" she announced. She pushed the book in my hands and continued "It's written by this Aldecaldo nomad… I think she goes by Dacota… I've read it, and it will cover essentially everything you need to know if you really want to stick to this backstory of being a nomad or whatever."

I looked at the book in my hands, running my fingers over the worn cover. "Rebecca… thank you," I said, softly but sincerely. "This means a lot."

She gave me a small nod, her lime green hair catching the dim light as she leaned back, sipping her drink.

I held the guide tightly, my thoughts swirling.

Could I trust her? I didn't know.

She'd been straightforward, willing to help, but she was also a mercenary… and there was still too much I hadn't shared.

The forge… I hadn't told her about it, and I didn't plan to. That was one secret I intended to keep, no matter how long I had to. It wasn't just about trust—it was about protecting something no one else could ever understand.

The silence stretched between us, the quiet hum of the holoprojector as the projection danced on the table, and the faint bass of the club outside filling the room.

Then, the door hissed open.

I looked up, ready to greet Archie—but stopped dead.

Archie stepped … She was different.

Her right arm was gone, replaced by what could only be a Kendachi Projectile Launch System. Her left arm? If I am reading the labels on the damn thing correctly was an Arasaka Mantis blade, as she flexed her arm unconsciously.

I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. "Archie ….?"

Archie noticed me staring, and her grin widened. She flexed her left arm, and with a soft mechanical hiss, a telescoping blade—easily twenty inches long—extended from her forearm. It gleamed menacingly under the lounge's dim lights.

On her right, her hand folded in on itself, parts shifting with an almost surgical precision, until a cylindrical barrel extended outward. The barrel glowed an ominous red as it charged momentarily, a soft hum filling the room. Then, just as quickly, her hand reassembled itself, returning to its normal shape.

"I got a few upgrades! You like?" Archie asked, her voice filled with excitement as she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I stared, still processing the transformation, noting seams and joints on her face that hadn't been there before. She'd had work done there, too. I nodded, a little dumbly. "Uh… yeah. Looks… impressive."

Archie's grin grew wider, clearly thrilled at my reaction. Then, she turned toward the door and called out, "Hey! How long are you guys gonna wait out there, ya gonks?"

A moment later, Ethan stepped in, followed by a woman I didn't recognize.

Ethan's appearance took me off guard. He was dressed in tactical gear—combat vests, armored pants, the whole package. As soon as he stepped in, his eyes fell on the holographic naked lady dancing on the table and whistled appreciatively.

Archie scuffed him on the back of his head for that.

Beside him, the woman looked far more casual. She was Asian, probably middle-aged, though something about her suggested she might be older. She wore a plain plaid shirt and pants, her dark sunglasses hiding her eyes effectively.

"Well, now that we're all here," Archie began, clapping her hands together. "Let's get the intros out of the way." She gestured toward the woman. "Zain, this is Yoko Tsuru. She's an old choom of my mom's. A netrunner, owns a shop up in Kabuki. She agreed to help out."

Yoko gave me a polite nod, her face impassive behind the shades.

Turning to me, Archie continued, "Yoko, this is my choom, Zain Vargas. He worked at the diner with us. He's a techie, good with weapons and other gadgets!"

Finally, she turned to Rebecca. "And you must be Rebecca. I remember you from the other day." Archie hesitated briefly before adding, "Thanks for your help with all of this. Really."

Rebecca shrugged, giving her a small, lopsided grin. "Don't mention it. Me and Zain, we're chooms now."

Archie clapped her hands, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Alright, take your seats, everyone. Let's get this started."

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small shard, its metallic surface glinting faintly under the dim lights. She handed it to Yoko. "Slot this in and project it from the holo, please."

Yoko nodded, taking the shard without a word. She tilted her head slightly, reaching back to insert the shard into the port at the base of her neck. The hologram of the dancing woman on the table flickered and disappeared, replaced by a new projection.

A life-sized image of a man appeared. He was bald, with a full beard and mustache, and a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his head. His sharp, Asian features were accentuated by visible auditory cyberware on both ears.

Archie gestured toward the hologram. "This is Jae Hyun Lee," she began, her tone steady and cold. "Leader of the scav cell we're after. The man responsible for my father's death. Unfortunately, Wakako's intel couldn't pinpoint his location, but he's our primary target."

The hologram shifted, now showing a second man. This one was lanky, with brown hair, clean-shaven, and slightly muscular.

"What we do have is information on this guy," Archie continued. "Peter Uppman. Jae Hyun Lee's right hand and the guy who oversees all the cell's cargo deliveries and handoffs."

The hologram shifted again, this time displaying a map of Watson. A portion near the dry docks north of Charter Street and Kennedy was highlighted in red.

Archie pointed to the map. "Fortunately for us, tonight happens to be one of the nights he's scheduled to hand off a shipment to the Tyger Claws. The deal's going down in a few hours. What we want to do is crash that party and take Peter alive. Through him, I'm hoping to get the information we need to find Jae Hyun Lee and the rest of his cell."

She looked around the room, her gaze sharp and expectant. "Any questions so far?"

I raised a hand slightly, cutting through the tension. "Wait… this intel came from Wakako, right? And Peter's delivering to the Claws? Why is Wakako giving us information on Claw business? Doesn't that seem… odd?"

Rebecca leaned back in her seat, her mismatched arms resting on the couch as she smirked knowingly. "Not odd at all, choom. Wakako does this all the time. Fixers like her make moves into the Claws' power structure whenever they see an opening. Using crews like us? That's just her play."

I frowned, still trying to wrap my head around it. "But why not just handle it herself? I mean, isn't this a bit—"

"Complicated?" Rebecca cut in, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, maybe. But her power games are all about indirect moves. Deniability something something. Wakako gets what she wants, and if something goes wrong, it doesn't come back on her. You get it now?"

I nodded slowly. It made sense, even if it felt like a lot of trouble. Although… I wondered why Rebecca of all people was so forthcoming about this. Last I remembered, Wakako was her 'auntie' or something.

I didn't voice the question, however.

Ethan cleared his throat, leaning forward. "Alright, so about this place… what kind of opposition are we talking? What's the layout like?"

Archie turned to Yoko, nodding once. The netrunner tilted her head slightly, and the hologram shifted again. The docks layout appeared, with key points highlighted in red.

"There'll be ten to fifteen scavs on-site," Archie said, gesturing to clusters of red dots. "And about the same number of Tyger Claws."

Ethan let out a low whistle, leaning back. "Sheesh. That's a lot of heads."

Archie nodded, her voice firm. "It is. That's why we're relying on Yoko. She'll disable their Cyberware before we move in. Once that's done, we hit them hard and fast. No time to think, no time to fight back."

Ethan squinted at the map. "And the cargo? Any idea what it is?"

Archie shook her head. "No specifics, but considering it's a scav op? Probably stolen Cyberware. High-end shit, more than likely. We'll salvage as much as we can."

Rebecca tapped her metal fingers against her leg. "You're planning to sell it off?"

Archie shot her a look. "No. The salvage goes toward funding the next step. This is bigger than a payday for me, alright?"

The room fell quiet for a moment as everyone absorbed her words.

Archie broke the silence. "Alright, last thing. Everyone packing iron? Everyone ready to roll?"

Her eyes landed on me, eyebrows raised. "Zain, you got the revolver?"

I nodded, keeping my voice calm. "I brought more than that."

Ethan tilted his head at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before I could answer, Archie cut in with a grin. "You'll see. Trust me, it's nova. The scavs will regret everything they've done to me and my family."

Her grin faded slightly, and her tone grew serious. "Alright. Any other questions?"

The room was quiet. No one had anything to add.

Archie stood, adjusting the sleeve of her jacket. "Good. Then it's time to face the music."

We all stood, the air in the room thick with anticipation. This was happening. We were really doing this.

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(A/N)

This was a little bit heavy focus on Rebecca, and some world-building. I hope it all made sense. And sooooo much dialogue.

Rebecca's very witty, emotional, but smart, and intelligent. She's also quick to attach to people and cares a lot, once she thinks they are people she likes.

She also smelled Zain's bullshit miles away.

Zain on the other hand is shifting priorities. Clearly. He's becoming a bit more cavalier, and careless if that's the proper way to describe it.

About Zain consuming outside food here. Food and consumables in Cyberpunk is graded by Quality. Essentially, High and Top Quality Consumables are real food, and things with nothing wrong with them. (In a broad sense)

Rolls for this chapter:

Domain: Quality: Appearance

Beauty in the Arts (God of War) (200CP)

The Greeks and their gods have an eye for the aesthetics of their surroundings. Whether it is the statues around them, or the floors they walk upon, or the things they carry and wield, it is better if it is appealing. Your ability to design any of your crafts has increased with this knowledge, able to appeal to form without sacrificing function. Regardless of what you create, it's going to look good enough that the gods might take notice... might. Whether this is a good thing, or a bad thing is for you to decide.