Before I move, I need to confirm a few things. No way in hell I'm going anywhere without figuring out the vital stuff first.
"System."
Nothing.
"Status."
Still nothing.
Didn't hurt to try.
My voice sounds off. Mine, but not. Lighter. Clearer. There's a weird unfamiliarity. Am I myself… or someone else entirely? Love this kind of existential bullshit. Really sets the tone.
"Hi, big G?"
Dead silence. Figures. Even if the big guy's watching, he's not wasting a second on a place like this.
I push myself up from the lawn chair and check myself over. Tall, maybe 6'2", decently fit. Dressed in nothing but a pair of beat-up blue jeans and a cheap, black T-shirt that hugs just a little too close. Pockets empty. No underpants. High fashion, Night City style balls free, dick swingin'.
Everything feels too real to be a sim. No HUD, no pop-ups, no tutorial. Just the smell of piss and dirt. If this was some brain-in-a-jar plugged into a hyperreal cyber RPG, someone somewhere has a sick sense of humor.
The chair I woke up in? Just that, a chair. Not a hidden portal to Narnia through my old armchair I bought at Ikea. Doesn't explain the fresh-ass body though. No chrome in my skull, no interface jacks, no neural ports. No obvious mods at all. Organic. Fully. Skin's got the usual nicks and scrapes, not a clone fresh out the tube. That's... good. And bad.
In Night City, being meat is rare, but not unheard of. Some folks swear by staying chromeless—religious reasons, mostly. Being fully 'ganic makes me invisible to scanners, off the net. Can't be hacked. Makes hiding easier. But it also means if I do wanna chrome up, I'll need a doc to gut me open and start from zero.
No ID. No date. No idea where, when, or who I am on paper. Dangerous combo. In this city, a person with no digital record might as well be a ghost or an easy target.
Still, memory's fuzzy but not fried. I remember the map. This is Night City, south end of City Center. Sea's on my left. Valentinos turf.
Below me are monorail tracks. I'm on top of one of the station roofs it seems. Somewhere in Glen, if I'm right. From here, I can probably just hop down onto the platform, saving me paying a fare.
I sit back down onto the lawn chair and start making a quick mental list.
I need a way to make money, safely. That can be a basic job that is not officially paid and paid cash only, actual paper money, eddies as they call them. Might just go to a mechanic shop since I can actually do things there that will keep me from starving to death. Programming is out of the question because I'm sure they don't use any language I know around here and I will need implants for interaction with 3d net space. Doing odd jobs works too but that's too unpredictable considering how chaotic the violence can be around here, but like hell I'd let chance take me twice.
Shelter is tricky, without money my only option is a bench in a safe area like the park in the middle of the city, jail or an abandoned apartment somewhere in the city, but neighbors there will not be welcoming I'm sure. I will have to do without sleep for now. After acquiring funds I will rent a motel room or crash at a trustworthy person's place, like Jackie or Vik.
Knowledge of the source material really helps with knowing who you can trust, that all applies if this place is 100% the same as the game, otherwise this becomes much harder to survive. Will have to confirm and go to Misty's Esoterica, get my fate checked out with tarot cards since in this world it actually works and is accurate. That should remain high up on the priority list just because of the possible utility of knowing my future.
Bartmoss' cyberdeck. Real game changer if not to sell but to get for myself, even if I cannot acquire data within my current skills. I know his corpse is in a frozen bathtub in a landfill if V didn't get to him just yet. If the year is anything below 2078 I will go and take it for myself.
I don't know how and why I got in this world, from now on this world is my reality, but sure would be nice to find a wormhole to my good ol' earth, don't think I can otherwise create a portal back, too far stretched even for a situation like this.
Basiс rules for myself have to be established that will have to be followed.
I will not involve myself with Corporations unless I have complete upper hand, meaning that is not a slight possibility that they can be in control in our interaction. Complete anonymity and authority is needed to deal with them. Just one wrong interaction will place me in a list which causes me infinite problems if not now then in the future.
I will not be involving myself with gangs in a way that will tie me up with anything that would make me an accomplice and a part of infinite conflicts that are inevitable. Third party is fine to a point that would not make me a target worth pursuing, especially by a crazy bunch like Maelstrom.
I will not go cyberpsycho for any reason, I don't want or need to become a cyborg to survive at a basic level. Thus I will be highly cautious with all and any piece of hardware of software that I shall use.
I will lock the goddamn front door. Also I think I should consider investing in a Trauma Team Platinum plan, even if it means that I will be constantly tracked, pretty sure I can spoof my location if I try hard enough, the basics of how things like that cannot change willy nilly and I will most likely stay alive
Long-term decisions like getting involved in the main plot? Gotta wait. I need more information.
Time to move.
I slap my knees and stand. No much hesitation, I jumped down. From a height over ten feet down to the platform.
And land.
Effortless.
What the hell is this body? Sure is better than the old one. Upgrades people, upgrades.
I wait a few minutes before the monorail pulls in. Almost empty car, only a few people sleeping on the benches, seemingly going around the city in circles. I step inside and lean against the opposite door to catch the city sliding by.
"Leaving station: Glen South. Please keep clear of the doors."
Despite the grime, the neon, the pain that hangs over this city like a bad hangover, there's… something here. Charm, maybe. I'm sure many people fell in to the trap Night City promises. Gotta remember Johnny Silverhand once said:
"A happy ending? For folks like us? Wrong city, wrong people."
Yeah, Johnny. I gotta keep this by heart.
But I'm not here to chase endings. I'm here to survive, at least for now. Maybe, if the stars align, live.
We pass under a bridge and I catch my reflection in the glass. Clean-cut short brown hair, sharp blue eyes, a solid jaw. Not bad. A good 7/10. Looks a little like my old man back when he was but a young lad.
"Now arriving: Memorial Park Station."
That's my stop.
First thing I see are giant holographic carps swimming in the air, fish commonly known to suck the filthy waste from the bottom of the lakes and living overly long lifes. What a beautiful metaphor, still looks cool.
The park's buzzing. Corpos in suits, NCPD patrols, couple kids playing with something they probably shouldn't. Trash everywhere. Society of the future at its finest.
I sit down on a bench facing Arasaka Tower. Big, black, ominous. Power in steel form. Also kinda fucking ugly and that is considering they had a second try building actually a good looking one.
Ten seconds in, a guy in a shiny corp suit sits next to me. No words. Just watching the fish.
Quick glance revealed small chrome cheek panels on the face, hands still organic. Low-mid rank. Not important, not a nobody. I guess it is the middle management of Arasaka.
Time to fish.
"Enjoying the view?" I ask casually.
"I would if you shut up," he says without looking at me.
I grin. "Rough day at the office?"
"Just got off. It's gonna kill me one of these days," he mutters, rubbing between his eyes.
"Man, isn't it like 4 a.m.? I want to die just listening to that."
"You don't even know. My boss told me to either get a cognitive booster or eat a bullet if I couldn't keep up."
He chuckles dryly. No joy behind it.
"At least the pay's good, right? How long have you been at it?"
"Long enough to be completely fucking sick of it."
"Fair. So, how much do you think they spend keeping those holo-fish swimming 24/7?"
He snorts. "Who the fuck cares. You a tourist?"
"Something like that." I let a little smirk slip. Too obvious?
We lapse into silence. Peaceful, for Night City. He glances at me again.
"You a monk or something? Why you still 'ganic?"
"No. Just never needed chrome."
"Now you're just bullshitting me, choom."
"It's pretty nova if you know what you are doing actually. Most dumbasses think that eddies that they receive through the NET cannot be tracked but I'm sure corporations like yours wouldn't allow that to exist. Using cash can make you untraceable if you are smart about it."
He nods slowly. "Might be true. Still doesn't beat not being able to jack in or take a shard. If a corp's lookin' for you and they're digging through your transactions? You're already flatlined."
He stretches, waving his hand dismissively.
"You do have a point."
"Fucking right I do. Never thought I'd be telling someone in 2075 to get chromed. You're late to the party. You afraid of ripperdocs or something?"
Jackpot. 2075 it is.
"Flat broke," I shrug slightly. "Not afraid. Just… haven't needed it yet."
"You know what, when you got the eddies, go see Vik. Clinic's behind Misty's Esoterica in Little China. Best ripper in the city if you ask me. Mention me, maybe he gives you a discount if he is not grumpy. Name's V by the way."
Huh.
He offers a handshake. I look at him properly for the first time.
It's him. Doesn't look exactly like the posters or ads—but it's him. Worn down, tired. Real. V.
I shake his hand, half-joking, "I'll take your word for it, corpo rat. Name's…"
I pause. Shit. What do I call myself?
"…Caelen."
"You just came up with it on a spot haven't you? Anyways gotta go, won't even try to guess how your name is spelt. Don't have a pen and paper to write down my deets, so just contact me through Vik or Misty if you will stay in the city, later." V again joked and promptly left.
And then he's gone.
Damn.
That changes everything. No need to plan some elaborate meet-cute with the legendary V. He's here, and I've got a name to work with.
One more lucky break, and I might just survive this city.
I lean back on the bench and stare at the koi fish swimming through digital air. Night City ain't much, but it's mine now.
Time to earn those eddies.