Big Trouble In Little Japantown

by Mr.Redgren

A lost soul is given a new chance at life, with a whole new bag of tricks. The catch? He has to survive in the hostile environment known as Night City. Good luck Jumper, you're going to need it.

3. Chapter 3

AN: Hello to my people, it's been a long time (longer than I would have liked, but what can you do?) but we finally have ch.3. Once more, I want to thank my editor for his help in making a fun idea into a good story, and of course, all of you guys that see this little passion project of mine as worth the time it takes to read (and wait for).

I love reading the comments and look forward to seeing more in the future. If you have questions, feel free to leave a comment, I'll do my best to address them (just make sure your settings allow for a response). If I don't get to you, chances are that I can't, for one reason or another.

Two questions that I wanted to answer, however are:

Is Sasha alive?- I'm afraid not, at least not in this timeline.

Akira x Gloria?- It's in the pipeline, but it won't be for some time, for reasons that will become clear as we move the story forward.

Now, Let's get into it.

Getting started

(part 2)

-Gloria-

To say that the last two-or-so days of Gloria's life were anything but hectic and full of twists and turns... would perhaps be the greatest understatement of the century. Perhaps even the millennium.

First was getting called to Arasaka Academy to have one of the most uncomfortable meetings of her life, because her son had pulled one of the stupidest stunts she'd ever heard of. The amount of chrome he'd inadvertently scorched was mind boggling, and as a result of that…misfortune, basically gave them free reign to strong-arm her and her son into dropping out of the school. She could still feel the heart palpitations from when they showed her the damages and costs. Then came the horrific car wreck that nearly claimed her life, and most likely would have, if not for the timely intervention of the... admittedly handsome redhead. Shortly later, after a medical check-up that raised more questions than answers, she had a rather embarrassing emotional breakdown in front of said redhead, one that led to a long overdue heart-to-heart with her son. And then, just to pile on the crazy, she had gotten a job offer from the same redhead, and before departing, just dropped a metaphorical PILE of money in her lap. She might or might not have briefly fainted as a result.

The morning after was almost just as stressful.

She ended up taking the principal's offer to pull her son out in exchange for waiving the damages, but by god, they acted like some of the smarmiest, smuggest, most irritating jackasses about it. When they heard the news, they didn't even try to hide the glee on their faces, just giving faux condolences and well wishes, talking about what a tragedy it all was... while sporting toothy grins. Gloria swore that, if it wasn't a holo-call, she would have slugged at least one of them on the way out. It may have gotten them into a bit more trouble, but it would have been oh-so satisfying. She still cursed them out something fierce, though.

Then, she had gotten a call from her main EMT job whilst in the middle of her lunch meeting/prospective job interview. It was her boss, Royst, the head of the division she was a part of, and a true dumpling of a man. Despite his chrome, he always looked like he was constipated and blamed it on anyone in his line-of-sight. He was short, round, overweight, and had a tempter that spoke of years of repressed impotent rage. And because of the rumors that circled the office, that last one was more literal than you'd expect. He'd called her up and started screaming at her right off the bat, demanding to know why she hadn't come into work yet. She had sent a message the night before, and sent another one this morning just to be safe, explaining what had happened and that she wouldn't be able to come in for a few days. That apparently wasn't what he wanted to hear, as he started screaming even harder, questioning her loyalty and work ethic while dipping into swears every now and then. He even started ranting about deductions and marks and a whole bunch of other bullshit. By that point, she'd had enough.

If this had happened the day before the accident, she most likely would have cow-towed to his fat ass, bowing her head and begging for forgiveness, all the while dreading whatever... unsavory means he might demand of her to keep her job. If his history with Linda was anything to go by, then he definitely gave better treatment to his... favorites.

But this wasn't before. Between the accident, the emotional turmoil, the pain of dealing with the school, and the already in progress job offer that looked miles better than what she had before... She'd had enough. She finally had the strength to leave behind that rotten bastard, and she wasn't ever going back.

The next several minutes consisted of some of the loudest and most flourished bout of curses that she'd belted in what felt like a decade, and becoming the angriest she'd remembered being in just as long. Not since... Not since Richard, anyway. That was a very old wound, one she didn't expect to open up again, and most certainly not like this.

If she were being honest, even if that call hadn't come in to cement her decision on quitting, she most likely would have done it anyway. The "signing bonus", as he called it, alone had taken care of pretty much all of their overdue bills, as well as topping off their rent, with enough to buy a fridge full of groceries, and even a freaking car! They didn't have to subsist on microwave burritos and street corner kebabs anymore. They could eat food made at home, without having to worry about the dubious source of the meat in said kebabs. The thought of being able to actually *cook* homemade meals again warmed a special place in her heart, that morning's breakfast bringing up happy memories for the first time in a long while.

For Gloria, Akira may have been the only real choice now. For better or for worse, the money and hours he'd offered were simply too good to pass up, too good to say no to. No one in their right mind realistically could. To compare, her EMT job paid just 6k a month, and that didn't even cover medical expenses or insurance. Add no time off, no overtime pay, and an ungodly amount of hours per week onto the pile of financial depression. Her new job would have all of that, with decent hours, and making four-times as much per paycheck. She wouldn't even need to run any of her side hustles anymore, that's how good this job actually was. Sadly though, that does mean that she's gonna have to stop visiting Maine to drop off the chrome she'd been secretly pocketing. She was going to miss him. The man might be an Edgerunner who buys sketchy chrome from black market dealers, with a dubious set of morals, but he could make a damn good cup of tea.

The next visit would have to be the last, just to get rid of what she had on her. She hoped he would be understanding about it.

She was currently sitting in the driver's seat of her new vehicle outside the diner where the lunch had been held. Well, "New" isn't exactly right; It was new to her. It was a navy blue Thorton Galena G240, a boxy little piece of shit that did pretty much one thing: Drive, and it doesn't even do it that well. It was actually the same model as her old, now destroyed car, though that one was colored bright yellow, ironically matching her favorite jacket. It hadn't been driven all that much, according to the retailer, but it'd just been sitting in his lot for the past few years, collecting dust and rusting away. Said that the guy who owned it last never left his house in the decade he'd had it. Never said why, just kept muttering about "them", apparently. Because no one would buy it, she was actually able to haggle the price down from 13k to 9k. With the money they got from scrapping the old car, they were able to get the new car, have it cleaned up and oiled, and have a nice and pretty 5k left over from their "Signing bonus".

Overall, not a bad deal.

Sitting in the seat next to her was her son, arms all crossed and brooding, like teenagers are want to do. He looks so cute when he's doing it too.

They were currently waiting on her new boss, who was still inside the restaurant, dealing with the aftermath of their meal. Apparently, when you finish a giant burger that only six others have ever finished, it's a real big deal. There were people coming over to take pictures with him, he was getting his face put on the wall of fame, he got a big sash that said "Winner" across his chest, it was a chaotic mess. He told the both of them to wait in the car and to let him deal with the crowd, which they gladly accepted.

So far, it'd been about ten minutes, and based on his attitude, David was getting impatient. The time had given her a bit to think things over so far, and now... ask a few questions.

'What is going on with me?'

What was that... lapse she had at the table? She hadn't even thought about anyone like "that" in years. But he just lifted his shirt and... her brain went to static. Why? Why did that happen? She would admit, she'd been just a bit... "out of sorts" for a long time, between overworking and stress, but she'd never been like that before, daydreaming about someone just because they showed their stomach. It wasn't even a particularly ripped stomach, all things considered, being just as devoid of muscle as it was fat. A far cry from the physique of those action movie stars or one of those steroid monkeys you find in the Animals. Why did he even do that anyway? They were just talking about the job, then all-of-the-sudden he just goes and pulls up his shirt. Who fucking does that?

'Get it together, girl.', she admonishes in the confines of her mind, giving her cheeks a couple of pats to psych herself up. 'The guy is only a few years older than your son, and he's now your boss. You aren't here to fulfill the fantasy of some trashy workplace-romance novel; you are a professional. You have a job, you do the job. That's it. Focus!'

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, doing her best to calm her beating heart. She lets the breath back out in a sigh, letting the calm wash over her. She needed to get whatever this thing was under control, to let it fade away into the background, to-

(Knock knock) "Hey, Gorgeous."

"Ahh!"

(Beep!)

-Akira-

I piled into the back seat of the car after Gloria unlocked the door, Still clad in my new "Winner" sash, which I probably shouldn't be as proud of as I was, and carrying a to-go box that the diner's cook was able to put together for me. It seemed like a waste to just leave all those extra fries behind, even though I only had to finish the burger, so I asked him to chop up some bacon and melt some cheese over the top of 'em for me. Yes, I essentially asked them to make Baconator Fries from Wendy's. The guy thought it was a bit of a weird request, seemingly forgetting that chili fries existed, but hey, he did it anyway, so I can't really complain. I did have to pay extra, but screw it, I got my money back from the burger anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. Cheeky fucker still charged me 50 € for it though.

I, of course, shared with the duo, because bogarting road snacks is a dick move of the highest order. I may be an asshole, but I certainly ain't a dick.

Gloria eventually worked up the nerve to ask about where we were going next. Well, you know... she asked after she'd calmed down from the jumpscare I apparently pulled on her. I honestly wasn't even trying, yet she still needed a bit just to get her breathing under control. She definitely needed to take it easy for a while after this. If an unexpected knock was all that it took to get her winded, I can't imagine how she'll handle the... less than unlikely chance of needing a speedy getaway/epic car chase.

Soon enough, she started up the car and we were off, in search of the first thing on the grand shopping list: a clothing outlet with semi-reasonable prices.

They both gave me a weird look at the declaration, but both went along with it anyway, if the way they shrugged their shoulders was anything to go by.

Wanna know a little difference that I've noticed between the Game version of night city and the real life version? The lack of people and other cars on the road, in any way that was larger than a community park, I mean, was definitely an issue with either the game engine, or with the developers doing something behind the scenes. Wanna know how I've come to this conclusion?

The traffic is fucking horrible!

We had been sitting in the exact same spot for the past 20 minutes, barely having moved an inch since we got this far. What should have originally been just a 20 minute drive, max, had ballooned into a nearly hour-long slog of a traffic jam. And I thought San-Francisco was bad. This made San-Fran look like a tutorial level.

"Ugh...", I groaned as I sat up from my previous position, lain across the back seat like a sun-bathing cat, "Is it always like this?"

My question merely got a morose chuckle from the two night city natives. "Pretty much.", replied David, clearly used to this bullshit.

"Not all the time...", corrected Gloria, a slight chiding tone towards her son, "It usually only gets this bad if they're doing construction or some sort of repair. There must be a burst pipe or something up ahead." She slightly sat up in her seat, trying to peer over the long line of cars ahead. "Can't see anything from here, sadly."

"Or maybe some Gonk decided to play Russian Roulette with a shotgun and they have to clean the pavement.", snarked David. He got a small smack upside the head.

"Ugh...", I so eloquently summarized my annoyance once again, before flopping down in the back seat like a depressed fish. I set my forearm to rest over my eyes once again, doing my best to block out that one annoying ray of sunshine that decided to slip its way through the cracks between buildings, just to hit me right in the face and keep me from napping through this hell. Fucking Sunny bastard. "The first chance I get, I'm installing tinted windows in this bitch."

I heard David snort from the front seat, followed by a small giggle from Gloria.

The three of us all fell into a mutual silence as we waited for the traffic to get a move on. We would have turned on the radio or something, but of all the things out of the car that could have died while it sat still in a back-lot for years, it was the goddamn radio. I couldn't even play any holo-games, as I had none installed on my deck, and I wasn't going to download any until I got some decent anti-virus software first. I would have asked David if I could have borrowed his BrainDance headset, but I was certain that if he actually had it on him, he would have been using it already.

So, that left me with jack-diddly-squat to do, and it was eating at my sanity.

Thankfully, someone broke the silence.

"So, Akira...", Asked David, tone clearly just as bored as I was. I slightly shift my arm to peek at him, just in time to see him peer around the back of his seat at me. "If you don't mind my askin'... What did you do?" I raised a questioning eyebrow and he quickly added, "You know, before."

I gave him a small nod of understanding as I shifted my arm back. The kid was a curious one, and with how suspiciously quiet Gloria got as well, so was she.

I'll be honest, I probably could have just brushed them off and it would have been fine, "Mind your own damn business" and all that. But for some reason, I felt I had to give them something. I felt like I owed it to them, after how much I messed with their lives already. Granted, I've made them better for the moment, but there's always the possibility of things going wrong. So very wrong. They don't deserve knowing nothing.

So... I started speaking.

"You guys can keep a secret, Right?", I asked, once more lifting my arm to look out. I saw the eyes of David widen slightly as his brow rose to meet his hairline, and while I couldn't see Gloria's, I did see her still in her seat. They both gave their nods, so I continued. "...Uzumaki... wasn't always my name."

"I knew It!"exclaimed David from the front seat like a vindicated watcher at the end of an episode of the scooby gang, right after the big reveal. His outburst was met with swift retaliation, as Gloria smacked him upside the Mohawk-sporting head of his again. "Ow! Mom!"

"...Anyway.", I continued, slightly annoyed with the kid, "I changed my name when I got to the city. A bit before it, actually. Needed a new start, so I thought this the best place to go.", I refocus on David, "And before you ask; no, I won't tell you my old name... *(Sigh)*It's not like you'd recognize it anyway..."

"Why'd you leave, then?"

"...Familial dispute, you could say.", I reply, deciding to sprinkle in a bit of the truth to make it more realistic and believable, "My brother's widow decided to push me out of a window.", I say completely casually, most definitely to the shock of the duo. Still, I kept going on. "Greedy bitch wanted my inheritance, and she thought that taking me out of the picture would make it default to her." I felt myself let out a dark chuckle to a joke only I would ever get. "But as it turns out, I ended up getting the last laugh in the end."

"...How long ago was this?", I heard Gloria ask, voice simmering with outrage.

"Oh, about... ten years ago, I think?", I say, pulling a random number out of the air.

"When you were nine?!", David exclaimed, appalled at the news.

I noticed Gloria suddenly grip the steering wheel tight enough that the wood was creaking.

"Yup. Didn't work, obviously. I thankfully landed in some bushes that broke my fall. Ended up breaking the tailbone in my ass, though. It hurt like a bitch.", I pause to idly rub my hip, the phantom pain from the time that I actually did that returning briefly. "Anyway, to make a long story short: The bitch got what was coming to her, I got to keep my inheritance, but I was pretty much under house arrest from that point on. Parents brought in private tutors to school me, I spent most of my time in my room otherwise. It was... really boring, to be honest. Then one day, I grabbed up what I could carry, snuck out, and hopped on a train to wherever it took me... Night City seemed like as good a place as any.", I finished, giving a casual shrug, though it didn't come across that well, since I was laying down.

The pair went oddly quiet for a long moment, which, while not out of the norm for the pair when I talked, given the emotion I'd heard just from them, it was certainly odd. I took another quick peek from under my arm, spying the two of them looking directly out the windshield, staring straight ahead with contemplative looks drawn on their faces. They didn't look shocked, per-say, but more like they're mulling something over in their minds. It was then that they shared a look, one that carried an unspoken question between them, which soon evolved into the kind of body language that only two people having a silent conversation gave off. Soon enough, they each gave the other a small nod, before going back to gazing out the front window.

It was then, after a longer moment of silence still, that Gloria finally spoke.

"Akira... Thank... Thank you for confiding in us."

"...You're welcome?", I reply, a little confused.

As if sensing the perfect time, we hear a large horn blare in front of us, and the cars ahead start to show movement.

"Oh, thank god." I groan as I sit back up again. "The wait's finally over."

It didn't take much longer to find the kind of place we were looking for, once traffic started to let up.

I was standing in the "pre-owned" section of one of the most mundane clothing stores I'd ever remember being in. We'll, mundane for Night City, at least. Place didn't even have a proper name, the sign outside just said "Boutique" in hand painted letters.

I was perusing through a standing rack of mismatched tops and such, looking for something in my size. I wasn't having much luck in that, sadly. Most of it was either too big, or too small, or just plain made me wanna stick forks in my eyes at the sight of it. What made the search even harder was wanting to find something that didn't have rips and tears all through it. There were a few standard t-shirts, a few tank tops, some mascot memorabilia for some cartoon I've never heard of, all sorts of random shit. It was as I got closer to the end of the rack that I noticed that a good amount of them had mysterious "stains" on them, and I was fairly certain none of them were put there by some spilled tomato sauce from Sunday night dinner.

'...I think I just found out where all the excess armor I picked up from dead scavs ends up after I sell it.'

It wouldn't surprise me. Night City is the kind of place where nothing is valueless. Everything is worth something to someone... even if that thing needs a healthy helping of bleach to get the blood out.

'Fair enough, Rob.'

Mind explaining why you're in the "pre-owned" section anyway? You've got plenty of money to buy some nice clothes, even stuff with built-in armor that should protect you a fair bit. Why waste your time looking through rags? Oh look, that one has a mustard stain!

'Okay?... (sigh) I'm here because I'm trying to save as much cash as I can. That monthly 'trust fund' you give me isn't going to get me very far if I plan to make a name for myself. You gotta spend money to make money, as the saying goes, and I can't afford to waste what I have left.' , I mentally reply, grabbing a shirt from the rack that was my size. It was a long sleeve, but the sleeves were torn to shit and full of holes. I took it anyway and tossed it into the nearby basket I'd been carrying around. I could turn it into a tank top or something if I wanted to, so It wasn't a big deal. 'I mean, you know how much I spent yesterday. And that was just in one day. I've gotta save every penny I can for equipment, upgrades, repairs, and emergencies.'

But how are you gonna make money, though?

'As I said before, by becoming a Merc. There are people in night city who need things done, even if they are less than legal, and are willing to pay out the nose to get them done. Plus, while it may be in bad taste in reality, going all Loot Goblin on your dead enemies can lead to a lucrative payday, even if the job goes bust. Hell, that's how the Scavs are able to support themselves, even if their method is more... stomach turning than simply pocketing stray bullet casings after a fight.

And what about after that? What do you plan to do after you get more money? You can't be just a Loot Goblin for the rest of your life.

Rob's question made me pause slightly, my arm outstretched to grab another shirt off the rack that looked in okay condition. I shook my head slightly before I continued my stride, mentally continuing the conversation as I walked over to another rack with my basket in-hand.

'I have... several ideas in mind. Some of them profitable, some altruistic, some... out of retribution, I will freely admit.', The image of a certain cybernetic mercenary flashed through my mind, a hulking mechanical monster that willfully discarded his humanity, standing over-top of a certain main protagonist in his final hours, arm cannon aimed right at his head and poised to fire. I had to force myself to not accidentally snap the hanger in my grip at the memory, taking deep breaths to calm myself all the while. '...(exhale) But in order to accomplish any of them, I must point you back to my earlier conversation with Gloria. I need three things: Reputation, resources, and Opportunity; the three keys to success. Right now, I have none of those. Before I can make any moves, I need to build those up however I can, even if I have to do unsavory work to gain them. After that…', I paused, trying to find the right words I needed.

And as if, being placed there to punctuate the point like cheesy TV drama, my hand trailed across an Arasaka branded jacket, a stylized version of their logo emblazoned across the back. I felt myself grip the fabric tightly, to the point that it creaked under my fist. Suddenly, I had the perfect words come to mind, backed by the knowledge of all the heinous shit that goes on behind the scenes, and by a good bit of anger at what I know happens in the future thanks to the virtual overlords of the city. Overlords in everything but name.

'I'm gonna grab them by the short hairs... and yank until they say my name…'

...Uh, do you maybe wanna rephrase that a bit?

'What? What did I say?'

Akira... It didn't sound like you wanted to be serious and cool... it sounded like you wanted to give them a "happy ending".

'What, no it didn't.'

Yeah, It kinda did.

'But that's not what I meant! You know that's not what I meant!'

I don't know... It sure sounded like that to me... (Snicker)

'...(sigh) You know what, Never-fucking-mind. Just forget it.', I groaned, lamenting my moment of trying to sound badass. Looking back on it now, I just wanna crawl into a hole, desperate to hide from the cringe. What the hell was I thinking?

You sure? I could change your name to "Daddy" to make it authentic. It's just text in a box, you know. Just a little edit here and...

'I said: Forget it!'

Okay... "Daddy". (Snicker)

'This is hell, I'm in hell.'

BWA HA HA HA AHA HA!

And just to rub it in even more, the laughing idiot that lives in my head went on like that for pretty much the rest of my time in that store. Up and down each aisle, looking for whatever garments I could find, I had his shrill, warbling laugh echoing in my mind. When I was in the tops, the pants, even the freaking packaged bundles of socks, he just kept on laughing. Nearing the end of the trip, I noticed a twitch in my left eye starting to develop. I did my best to tune him out, but I wasn't very successful, and was probably only one step away from bashing my head through the nearest wall to shut him up. I wasn't sure if it would work, but I was damn sure willing to try.

He did eventually shut his freakin gob just as I was passing a rack of assorted hats, thank god. I was perusing the selection of various caps and such when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed David of all people standing in one of the display cases. You know, the ones with mannequins showing off the expensive shit to draw in the customers, even if they can never afford it. Curious, I grab the trucker hat off the rack I was looking at and quickly slide it on, then start making my way over to him.

He doesn't immediately notice me as I walk up, probably because of how intently he was looking at the display case, with a look that I'm pretty sure anyone could recognize. That look of longing that you get when you're a kid: There's something you really, really want, but you know you can't get it for whatever reason. Either because it's too expensive, it's not as good as you think, they don't have any in stock, pick your reason. That's the look I see on David's face as he continuously shifts his attention between the placard on the case, and what's in the case. And what is in the case... Is pretty nice.

It's a brown, faux-leather bomber jacket with a high-rimmed collar that goes round the neck in a "U" shape, ending just about where the shoulder meets the neck. The sleeves on the model appear to be short, but a closer glance revealed that they were just rolled up to about elbow-length, just below these... I'll be honest, I have no idea what they are. The only comparison I can draw is to say they're "Nipple-like". So there are these four round... Nipples protruding out the bicep-area of the sleeve, just under the shoulder, on both sides. There's also a couple of straps on the shoulders themselves, a weird diamond pattern down the right side of the zipper, and pretty much the whole thing has strategically placed LEDs that make the accents glow, with the biggest and most obvious being the inside rim of the collar. I also noticed that there was a stylistic, almost pencil-sketch depiction of a tiger and a dragon fighting drawn across the back, both appearing to be locked in combat atop a mountain. It also had LEDs, placed in the eyes of both beasts, and adding definition to the lightning aura radiating off the tiger, as well as the fire breath billowing out of the dragon's mouth.

The whole thing looked pretty tits, though ironically, I will never understand Cyberpunk's fashion sense. It's definitely the shoulder nipples.

I leaned over to get a look at the price tag, and jeez, I could understand the kids' look.

[Crystaljock Bomber - (Custom): 2500$]

"Holy Shit...", I gaped, the words escaping my lips as my jaw dropped. That price was absurd, bar none. Even with it being marked as "custom" that price was simply too much for a freaking jacket... Even if it looked fucking awesome.

"Yup", I heard David agree from beside me, dejection clear in his voice. I lean back and glance at him, though he continues speaking when it's clear he has my attention. "This thing's been here for years. No one in this neighborhood has the spare cash to burn for it, so it's just sat here...", He gestures to the case and the store at large, "collecting dust."

"Hmm...", I reply, turning my attention back to the case. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Not much to tell, really.", He answers back, crossing his arms with a shrug, "Supposedly, it's the last work of the artist who made it. Story goes: He made it on commission for some gonk, and after it was done, the guy tried to get out of paying by shooting the artist. His first shot missed, which allowed the artist to fire back, but they both shot the other at the same time, flat-lining the both of them. The jacket was impounded as evidence for a while, then after that...", David paused, his gaze falling back to the jacket in the case, "No-one's exactly sure how it ended up here in the end. It just kinda... showed up one day." His gaze turned back to me, expression forcefully nonchalant. "Been here ever since."

"Really?", I ask in something approaching disbelief, "No one knows how it got here?"

"Pretty much. There's some rumors floating around here and there, something about a crooked cop selling off stuff stolen from an evidence locker, So most people just chalk it up to that. But, as far as I know, nothing has been confirmed as of yet. It's the most likely story, don't get me wrong, but given how much confusion there is about the whole thing...", He stopped for a moment, eyes shifting around the room with a natural roll, "...I have my doubts."

"What's with that look?", I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

He let out an annoyed sigh, "Nothing, There's just... Some gonks out there think up the dumbest shit when they get high off their tits. I just remembered one of the dumber rumors. Get this: some say it's haunted.", he explained, before bringing up his hands and deepening his voice, sounding like the narrator of an old spooky cartoon while wiggling his fingers like spiders, "They say that the soul of the dearly departed artist still roams the streets to this very day, looking for his lost masterpiece before he can finally move beyond the veil, and any poor fool caught in the possession of his precious work...", he brought his thumb to his neck and slid across his throat, making his head go limp and letting his tongue hang out as he played dead.

I let out a little chuckle at his antics. "Yeah... whoever started that one clearly needed to lay off the Zaza."

David let out a chuckle of his own, "I know, right?", before stopping for a moment, a confused look on his face. "...The what?"

I playfully roll my eyes, blatantly ignoring his question as I ask, "So, is that why you're interested in the jacket? The story around it?"

He huffs in that way that teenagers do when they know you're messing with them, but nonetheless replies with, "...Not entirely. It's... it's a really cool jacket, okay?", clearly giving away his thoughts with the amount of passion he put into that 'Really'. "Me and mom come here every now and then, when we can afford it, and I've seen it sitting in that damn case for years now. I've always wanted to get it, but... Well, you see the price! If my mom ever found out I spent that much money on a jacket of all things, I'd end up like the freaking dinner table!", he crossed his arms once again and turned back to the display case, that look of longing returning to mar his face. "I've considered getting a job or something to pay for it, but with Arasaka breathing down my neck with their ridiculous standards, I'd probably be dead on my feet halfway through my first shift. Now though..."

He fell silent after that, a clear look of determination forming on his face. That's a thinking face; the face you break out when you're making a plan to accomplish a goal, working out all the angles and such. I recognized that face, as I've had to break it out on many occasions myself.

In fact, I had my own thinking face crop up in this encounter, though it ended much quicker than his, soon to be replaced with a little smirk that I couldn't help but let slide. I mean... when you have such a devious idea pop into your mind, you can't help but follow through, Right? It's only natural.

I quietly left David to his pondering as I made my way to the checkout desk, a handful of questions dancing on the tip of my tongue for the lovely girl behind the counter.

This is gonna be hilarious.

"...And you're sure you'll be fine here, all by yourself?"

"(Sigh) Yes, Gloria, for the third time: I will be fine.", I reply as I was crouched down, stretching my legs and limbering up, "(grunt) I'm going to be doing my cardio here for the next few hours, so I'm not going to need you. Go take care of whatever you need to do, and come back and pick me up around 5:00." I let out a groan as I felt a pop in my joint that was particularly nice. I stand back up and turn to her, doing my best to give her a reassuring smile.

The three of us were standing at the entrance to one of the few uninterrupted stretches of land you can find in all of Night City: The Pier. Well, technically it's a boardwalk, as the actual concrete pier itself stretches into the ocean a good ways, and it actually has a fair few concession stands and vending machines that pepper its length. Though, most people now just call the whole area The Pier, as the entire stretch of beach has become rather rundown, no doubt thanks to the piles and piles of garbage that now litter said sandy beach. All up and down it, you can find broken down cars shoved into its dunes, leftover food packaging, empty beer bottles; the place looked like an environmentalist's worst nightmare. And that wasn't counting underneath the pier, where there was a non-zero chance of finding a dead body, a crackhead, or both.

The place was originally billed as a beachtime hang-out and party spot all-year-round, though especially in the summer, so much so that they literally built a mall just on the other side of the beach, one that has obviously become defunct and fallen into disrepair as time has passed. The Grand Imperial Mall, commonly shortened to "GIM"(pronounced like "gym"), had never actually finished being built. It was designed as one of those tourist traps that drew in people from out of town, with an absurd number of stores and attractions planned for it. But eventually, funding dried up, and it was just left to rot. Pity, The mall honestly looked like it'd have been a sweet place to visit if it was ever finished. That is, if you can get over the smell of corporate greed and ego-jacking that permeated the whole theme of the place. They even had a roller coaster fully built and functional, along with a Ferris Wheel, so it really is a shame. I'll deal with some corporate propaganda if I could eat some decent Fro-yo on a Ferris Wheel, no cap.

Sadly, the now crumbling building is just being used as a squatting location for either the homeless, junkies, or whatever gang decides to move in that week. My money's on Scavs.

That being said, while it may not be the safest location, it is one of the few in the city where you can get some decent cardio in. I could have gone to a gym or something, but I need to save money, and I don't trust any sort of business to not screw me over with any sort of membership fee they'd impose. While running on a treadmill may be a better workout, running on the beach is free, so it's clearly the better option, the need to not accidentally step on garbage notwithstanding. Still better than Florida, though.

"Well...", Gloria started, bringing my attention back to her, sounding hesitant, "...Alright. If that's what you wanna do, who am I to object? You're the boss, after all.", she acquiesced, holding up her hands in deference as she turned, heading back to the car. She motioned to David, who was leaning against a nearby abandoned booth, to follow her. "Come along, Mijo, let's leave him to his business."

"Actually, mom...", David spoke up, not moving and looking off to the side, "I think I'm gonna stay here."

Both me and Gloria stopped at his words, quickly sharing a glance to make sure we had both heard the same thing. Based on the surprise clear on her face as well, we had. "Really?"she asked, crossing her arms and starring David down with a gaze that said more than her words did. Sadly, I don't speak 'concerned parent', so I can't offer a translation. My best guess was something along the lines of: 'Boy, you best not be about to act a fool'. Then again, that might just be my 'Late 90's TV' side talking.

Her question made him slightly more nervous from what I saw, judging by the way he was rubbing awkwardly at his neck as he kept going, "W-Well, It's been a while since I've had a good run and all, so... I thought, 'Might as well', Right? Since he's gonna be doing it anyway, why not tag along?", he supplied as he leaned off the booth, trying to give off the best facsimile of a confident smile. "Besides, a gonk like him would probably get lost and walk straight into the ocean without someone to watch over him."

"Hey!", I exclaim, slightly offended. "I'm right here."

The look on Gloria's face was conflicted. She seemed like she wanted to tell him no right off the bat, but something stopped her, my outrage completely ignored. She took a long moment of silence to think, making the moment oddly tense, despite how mundane the situation was.

I thought the question was a bit odd, obviously, but I certainly wasn't going to turn the kid down if he wanted to hang around. Any chance to talk to the kid and help him to level out emotionally was a good one, especially if it helped me prevent him from going cyberpsycho in the future. With his mom still alive, that chance was significantly lower for the little protagonist, but you never know when a relapse can happen. It may take a bit of molding on my part, but I think I can eventually get him to a level of greatness on par with what he had in the original timeline, maybe even greater than before, and let him keep his sanity in the end. I had initially planned to enact this master plan a bit more subtly, with a handful of developmental conversations and off-hand comments sprinkled here and there, you know; Subterfuge. Like a ninja. But if he was going to stick around for a bit, I couldn't let this chance slip by.

"I wouldn't mind the company...", I started, cutting Gloria out of her deep thought as she turned to me. I turned to David though, a grin that may or may not have had sinister undertones plastered on my face, "But, if you are gonna work out with me, I will not tolerate any falling behind. If I'm gonna be working and sweating like a dog...", I gesture to myself with my thumb, before pointing at David with the same hand, "...then so are you. Think you can handle that?"

David was somewhat taken aback by my declaration, but he was able to quickly collect himself and gave a simple nod back.

I turn back to Gloria, a disarming smile on my face, "See? Everything's gonna be fine."

Gloria didn't say anything back after that, oddly. She just looked between the both of us for a moment, before giving a nod of her own and climbing into the car. She seemed oddly calm while she did it too, if maybe a little jerky. Then she revved the car for a few cycles of the engine, before peeling out of the parking lot at impressive speeds, scorched tire tracks following behind her the whole way out. I even heard the honk of her horn a few times as she made the turn onto the highway.

Me and David, for the second time that day, were left confused at his mother's departure.

"Well that was rather... abrupt. I wonder why..."

-Gloria-

"WHY-(Bang) DOES-(Bang) HE-(Bang) HAVE-(Bang) TO-(Bang) SMILE-(Bang) LIKE-(Bang)- THAT!(Bang)", cried Gloria, each word punctuated by a rocking headbutt to the steering wheel. She needed to get a hold of herself, for the love of god!

-Akira-

"O-kay...", I mutter awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to start this training 'session'. I turned back to David, who was standing there, just as awkward as I was.

Quick, say something, you idiot!

I almost start at the abrupt voice screaming in my head, but I'm able to rely on my perk to keep it from showing. "So!", I say, bringing my hands together with a small clap, "We're gonna be doing some cardio, I.E., Running... A lot. All up and down the beach. Ready?"

He shrugged, "I guess."

"Good.", I reply as I start walking down the set of concrete stairs that lead down to the beach proper, David falling in-step next to me. Right as we reach the halfway point of the steps, I hear him whisper something in a hushed voice.

"Just a heads up... There's someone watching us. I saw them when we pulled in."

"...You sure?", I ask back, keeping my face neutral, though I may have let a bit of seriousness into my voice.

"Positive. Gonk forgot to turn down the bloom of his visor, and was hiding in the shadow of one of the abandoned booths further down."

"...That's why you stayed behind, isn't it?", I asked as I took my first step onto the sand.

"Kind of... I thought he'd be less likely to target you if there were more people around.", he said, stepping down right after me.

I took a casual glance around under the guise of stretching my arms, and I ended up catching a sliver of movement in one of the booths, just like David said. I'll be honest, If I hadn't picked up [Old fashioned ninja], I most likely would have let that slip me by and been none the wiser. But now...

"Noted. Thanks for the back-up. If he tries anything; stand back, I'll take care of him. But for now, let's just act like we don't know he's there. Got It?", I say, already thanking the fact that I made sure to keep my kunai holsters strapped under my new track suit. I couldn't fit my shuriken without it being obvious, but the sleeves are baggy enough for other things.

"Got it.", He replies easily, falling into silence as we start jogging down the stretch of beach ahead of us.

Meanwhile, I'm coming up with plans of attack in my mind, just in-case whoever is watching us actually tries something. I didn't know if this was something related to my status as an anomaly, but given that this is only my second day, I doubt I've warranted that much attention so soon. So, it has to be someone who was here already. Maybe a scout for one of the gangs? Was he alone, or was he just waiting for some suckers to call and sick his crew on? I don't have that much cyberware installed that would be noticeable, neither did David, but that didn't stop someone like the Scavs before, why start now? That is, if it was the Scavs at all.

It was approaching the two hour mark of our cardio session, and you could easily tell that we were both exhausted.

We were resting in the seating area of one of the abandoned picnic spots that peppered the beach, the kind that used to have lights strung up for nighttime events or large parasols shading the tables for daytime rays, only now the string lights are just a fire hazard, and the parasols are full of bullet holes. I was sitting at one of the stone tables, body draped across its surface, while David was sat across from me, splayed across the bench on his back, face protected by the one sheet of fabric overhead that had the least amount of holes. We were both huffing and puffing, desperate to catch a breath, though I couldn't tell who was in worse shape. Given that I was the one who was freshly reincarnated, and I hadn't had a chance to truly put my new muscles to the test yet, I'd say it was me. Didn't stop David from all but collapsing into his seat the second the timer was up and we sat back down.

We'd been keeping a steady pace for about the first hour or so of the run, making an effort to conserve our energy so we didn't tire ourselves out too early. Once we crossed that hour though, I started to really *feel* how green my new body was. That's when the burn sets in, for both my legs and my lungs; that burn you feel when you put your muscles to the test after not using for so long. That burn that you both loved and hated, as it was a sign of progress, that you were on the right track for your growth, but also a massive "fuck you" from your body to tell you it's time to stop now. No wonder everyone with the cash to burn wants to fix themselves up with robot parts, because seriously exercising *Sucks*. The only reason I was able to finish the quote/unquote "Jog", If you wanted to be nice with the language, was because I could be a real stubborn bastard if I wanted to be.

"(gasp)This... (gasp)fucking... (gasp)Sucks!...", I heard David groan out from underneath the table, in between deep breaths that sounded as ragged as he looked.

"No... (gasp)arguments... (gasp)here.", I reply back, desperately hoping that my regeneration would kick the fuck in and give me back use of my limbs, as I couldn't even crane my neck to properly respond, my message being muffled by the tables surface, and my stupid face.

"Why are... We doing this... Again?"

"Because... The life of a Merc... requires living... a very active... lifestyle."

"Couldn't you... just get some chrome... for this?", I heard him question, exasperation apparent as he tried to sit up a bit, a groaning hiss escaping his lips when he used the table to support himself. "Because it feels like... having someone rip apart your spine... would be *less* painful than this... bullshit."

"Can't...", I say back, regaining enough control to be able to tilt my head to the side, so I can be heard more clearly. Internally, I felt a knot form in my stomach. Despite the seemingly innocuous question, it sent up a whole bunch of flags in my mind, just because of who was asking it. I understood how... loaded that question was, even if he didn't; how precarious it would be if I didn't choose my words properly.

I could see it; a small inkling, barely a whisper, of what would eventually become the obsession with cyberware he would develop in the future. The obsession that led to him losing his mind, his heart. It was small, so very small, but it was there. Even if it was so; just like cracks in a pane of glass, that one small break can lead the whole thing to fracture horribly. And if you don't take care of it quickly enough... well, I don't even have to explain how badly that can fuck things up if you're not careful. I hadn't expected any signs of it this early, and while I may be reading way too much into things because of paranoia, I couldn't risk it.

"...One thing they don't tell you about cyberware is that, if you aren't already in some kind of shape, there is a rather high probability of your body outright rejecting the implants.", I start, putting considerable effort into forcing myself upright so I can talk to him properly. That little declaration appeared to catch him a bit flat-footed, judging from his expression.

"Y-you serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack, yeah. Turns out, If you're a really chubby fuck who hasn't left his house in a decade and eats nothing but crap, you aren't gonna take to mecha-legs all that well, Choom. Especially with all that fat and muscle atrophy. Your body just won't be able to take the strain of the new parts, much less the surgery needed to put them in.", I explain, giving my chest a small beat for emphasis. "Now, I'm not saying you have to be an Olympic weightlifter to get a new heart, or a marathon runner to get a new set of peepers, as medical science made that ship sail years ago, probably even before Silverhand's time. Nonetheless, physical condition and training plays heavily into whether or not implants will... "take", if you catch my drift.``

I'll be honest, I'm not *entirely* sure if that was true, but I was trying to make a point here.

"Besides... While Chrome is a useful tool, it's not the end-all/be-all solution to life's problems. It comes with its own downsides, hefty ones. The main one everybody already knows... Well, I'm sure you've heard the stories that pop up on the news every now and then. When they bother to report it at all, that is."

David's eyes widened with recognition, before his expression turned downcast. "Cyberpsychosis...", he muttered under his breath.

I nodded. "That's right. They're the people who dipped too far into the pool and ended up getting pulled under for it." I brought a hand up and lightly tapped my temple, "Every piece of it you get is a gamble with your sanity. Sure, there are people like Adam Smasher, or any number of gangs out there obsessed with going Full-borg that manage to keep themselves in check, but I highly doubt that they're anything but exceptions to the rule, rather than the rule itself. I also heavily doubt that they didn't already have some screws loose in the first place. See-"

(Whistling) (Crack!)

My conversation with David is abruptly interrupted by a surge of inexplicable pain, a flash of blood, and the vague recognition that I'd been hit in the face by something heavy. And hard. And square. Fucking OW!

I'm flung from my seat by the force of the impact and it sends me spiraling face-first into the sandy beach just a few feet from the table. I vaguely remember hearing David call my name and rush over to my side as I was still reeling from the blow. The sand I landed in stuck to my face in places even as I started to pull myself up, thanks to the blood trail that leaked from my face, some of which even got into my mouth. I also, for the third time in two days, had chipped my fucking tooth, as I could feel the shard of it stuck into my gums just behind one of my molars. Well, more broken this time, but I was starting to notice a trend involving my teeth, and I wasn't a fan of it.

I lift my head up from the sand, and from out of the corner of my eye, I notice something sitting just a few feet away, a splash of bright crimson decorating its surface. It was a brick; a regular dark-red brick, probably ripped out of someone's garden pathway or grabbed from the rubble of a ruined building that'd collapsed, or maybe even pulled straight from one of the unfinished mall's walls. Wherever it came from, it was here now, and I was staring at it incredulously, a bubbling anger starting to boil just under my skin.

'Did... did someone really just throw a brick at me?'

Looks like it, Bud.

'Just... WHY? I mean, who actually fucking does that? It's a goddamn brick!'

I shoot up to my feet much faster than I thought I could, the unyielding rage doing a damn good job at suppressing the pain as my regeneration started to work it's magic, knitting a nasty gash across my face back together, a small trail of steam leaking from the wound as it did so. My eyes dart all across the beach, looking for any sign of who threw the damn brick, but nothing immediately stood out in that moment. My mind started marking all the available hiding spots I could see just in case, while I idly started thumbing the kunai in my sleeve, ready to deploy it at a moment's notice. "Alright!", I call out to the absolute moron who had an obvious death wish, "Who's the dense motherfucker going around tossing bricks at people?!"

For a tense moment, silence was my only answer. That is...

"chi-chi-chi-chi"

The sound of... giggling caught my ears. It was low, suppressed, like he was trying to stifle it. He didn't keep the act up for long, however, as that giggle soon turned into a full-on maniacal cackling, a creaky kind of laugh that made me cringe slightly. It had a tin-y kind of quality to it, like someone speaking through a radio that wasn't working quite right anymore, and I could hear it coming from one of the booths that made up the picnic area. The same area I'd noticed and David had pointed out when we'd started the run. So, someone was here to start trouble after all.

Just a moment later, a light-skinned man walked out from behind a corner and into view, an uncomfortable and sinister smile on his face. He was a little larger than me, standing at maybe 6ft'3, but he was much more bulky, like a bouncer at a particularly rowdy night club. What only added to that comparison was the worryingly big biceps and forearms of his implanted cyberarms, looking distended or ill-fitting for his frame. They looked like gorilla arms, honestly. He wore a multi-colored muscle shirt, cargo pants that had seen better days just by how ratty they were, and a pair of sandals, of all things. Strapped to his right hip was a holster, and while I couldn't tell exactly what model it was, based on the shape, it was a revolver of some kind, so it was likely to have some kick to it. I couldn't see the upper half of his face, as it was covered by what looked like a mechanical gas mask that had been sawed in half just above the nose, giving it the "Bat-shit psycho" vibe that he was clearly trying to project, as it paired will the the glowing cyber-eyes that I could see through the lenses, a pair of bright red X's over a black sclera. The ensemble immediately brought to mind exactly who this guy was, and I hated being right.

"Scav..", I hissed, my distaste for this particular group made my knuckles turn white as I clenched my fist. I turned my head to the side, but I kept my eyes on the scav. "David, get behind me.", I say, before turning back to the man, who just kept creepily grinning at us. He appeared to be on his own, as I'm sure if one showed themselves, the rest would crawl out of their holes too. Scavs were twisted like that; they loved their power plays and shows of strength, intimidation was their bread and butter. Still, his confidence unnerved me slightly.

I was still worn out from the jog, so just in case he pulled any tricks, or actually pulled out that gun of his, I started to circulate what chakra I'd managed to wrestle control of so far. It's a pain in the ass, and not nearly as quick as I would like. I needed to stall for time, at least until I could get my arm fully channeled. I had to get him talking. I wasn't gonna dissuade him from a fight, but that didn't matter; every moment I stalled helps me more than it does him.

"So you're the bastard that threw the brick?" I asked with a snarl, subtly shifting into a more ready stance, in case I had to bolt.

The Scav cocked his head to the side. "Da.", he replied in a heavy russian accent, a sickening feeling of pride about the act seeped through his staticy voice. He made a show of cracking his cyber-enhanced knuckles, sounding like a cross between compacting metal and hissing air that felt like nails on a chalkboard. "Got a problem with that, little man?"

"Yeah, you could say that.", I growled out, deliberately plugging one of my nostrils to snort out a quick burst of blood that was making it hard to breathe.

"Heh. You have guts. I like it. It's going to make breaking you all that much more fun.", He purred in a way that sounded way creepier than it should have. He brought his arms back and slammed his fists together, creating a shower of electrical sparks that spelled pain for anyone hit by them, probably a few million volts worth of pain. Pain I was not interested in feeling, ever.

Even after only a single exchange, It was painfully obvious what kind of guy I was dealing with; he was one of those sadists who got-off on torturing people. He used intimidation to make his victims back down, and if they didn't, he'd instill the fear he wanted by beating them. So, in short, he was your garden-variety bully. A bully with cybernetic enhancements and a sadistic streak a mile wide, but still just a bully. And I learned years ago how to deal with people like that...

I scoffed, "Are those things supposed to intimidate me? The misshapen tin-cans you're calling arms? That's just... adorable.", I say, a condescending smirk on my face.

...You make fun of them.

The smile immediately drops from his face and twists into a snarl, clearly not appreciating my commentary. But I wasn't done.

"Dude, what are you doing!", I hear David exclaim from behind me, even going so far as to grab my shoulder.

I give the hand a slight brush off and say back, "Don't worry, I said I'd handle it, so I'm handling it."

"You call insulting him and making him madder, 'Handling it'?"

"Yup", I reply back, before returning my attention to the target of my ribbing. "Are you trying to make yourself look more intimidating by cosplaying as a silverback gorilla? You have the gangly arms for it." I gave a quick sniff of the air and immediately covered my nose back up. "You certainly have the smell down. I'm surprised I didn't know you were hiding over there from the stink alone."

That comment made his snarl even more twisted, straight up growling and showing teeth now. Be began walking closer, fingers clenching and unclenching in rage. "I'm going to rip off your arms and shove them down your throat, сука. I don't care if your corpse brings in less eddies with damaged organs, I'll take the hit." He growled, his voice box growing more unstable.

I scoffed again, "...Seems I wasn't all that far off from the truth, then. Bit of a sensitive subject, eh? A little too close to home? Because only a brain-dead ape would think that grabbing clothes out of a dumpster like a cracked-out hobo would be anything even resembling a smart idea. Same for that dumbass mask of yours. If you're gonna disguise yourself so that your handlers don't catch on and cart your ass back off to the zoo, it's best to cover the *whole* face, ya know?", I mock, waving a hand in front of my own face to taunt the psycho.

"THAT'S IT!", He screamed in rage, breaking into a sprint at the drop of a hat, his charge actually faster than I expected, getting within a couple feet of us in just a few seconds. If not for the fact that I saw him rushing the whole time, I would have thought he'd had a sandevistan installed. He raised one of his arms and swiped down at me, which I was barely able to dodge, rolling to the side while David rolled the other way, letting the bastard skid right through where we just were and kicking up a wave of sand into the air. He reeled around, face bright red with veins bulging in his neck, eyes screaming bloody murder as he locked back onto me. "I WILL USE YOUR SKULL AS FLESHLIGHT, ТЫ БОЛТЛИВЫЙ УБЛЮДОК!", He screamed, kicking up another cloud as leapt after me once more.

His swings were fast and wild, but barely controlled, going wide rather easily the moment I ducked it. Overhead, uppercut, hooks, he threw punch after punch at me, and I deftly avoided each one, though just barely. AS I bobbed and weaved, I kept a watch on my chakra, which was almost fully channeled into my arm, the gentle flame beneath my skin growing stronger with each passing second, the precious seconds that the back and forth got me proving to be invaluable. It was only a moment later that I felt the energy take hold, and I was ready to take this guy out. I just needed the right moment...

"There!", I shouted in the confines of my mind as he went for another overhead swing that I once again dodged, but this time, instead of backing off when he whiffed, I got in closer. I reached out with one hand and took hold of the collar of his shirt, and yanked down hard as I reeled back, slamming my forehead right into his face, breaking his nose and forcing a stream of blood to burst from its now shattered remains. That move fucking hurt, both him and me, but I didn't focus on the pain, just on finishing it. With a flick of the wrist, the kunai in my sleeve slides right into my hand in a forward grip, and with a chakra-enhanced thrust, I drove the blade up through the underside of his chin, cutting through any sort of resistance and lodging itself, hopefully, right into the bastard's brain. He froze as soon as he registered that the blade had pierced his skull, a gurgling noise escaping his lips, along with a croak of pure suffering. I let go of the blade and slid out from his reach, ducking under his arm and shifting to his back, snagging the revolver from his hip for good measure. Didn't want him to just be pretending to be dead and whipping it out on us when we're walking away, after all. He fell to his knees as I stepped out of the way, his misshapen arms coming up to claw and scratch at his throat, desperately trying to do something to stop the pain.

I didn't give him the chance.

I brought up the revolver that I'd stolen and pointed it at the back of his head, barrel only a few inches away from touching it. It felt heavy in my hand, as I'd never really used a real gun all that often. A BB gun a few times, yeah, but the real thing had so much more weight behind it. A lot more kickback too, I'd find, as with a gentle pull of the trigger, I felt the weapon kick so hard that it nearly flew from my hands entirely, my white-knuckles the only thing keeping it firmly gripped. The kickback hurt like a bitch as my arm flew back, the point-blank shot being off-center slightly, turning what would have been shower of gore and blood into a glancing shot that, while still lethal, kept most of the skull intact as the bullet rent the top left section of his head from the rest. I did get some splashback from the shot, a splatter of crimson and gray matter painting my outstretched hand and most of my pants. The high-pitched whine kept ringing in my ears long after the shot, even if I could hear perfectly fine after a few moments.

They say that you never forget your first kill... and I sure as hell didn't.

The guy's body fell to the ground with a dull thud immediately after the shot. The gentle flame flame under my skin died down as I let go of it, nearly falling to the sand myself as the inevitable adrenaline crash hit me like a runaway truck. I stumble, falling back onto the cinder-block wall that divided the picnic area from the rest of the beach. My hands resting on my knees keep me from falling off my new perch, the gun temporarily set to the side as I catch my breath. My body is in rough shape, as I hadn't recovered fully from the run yet before arms showed up. Pretty much *everything* hurt, most of it was even worse than before. But hey, I wasn't dead, just sore. That's a good sign.

My eyes glance up to find David, kneeling stock still in the sand, staring at the body. His wide eyes looked on unblinkingly, breathing deeply and quickly. He seemed to be one step away from a panic attack. He'd probably seen violence before; hell, this probably wasn't even the first dead body he'd seen so far, but I was willing to bet that it was the first he'd seen so up close, so personally involved in, that wasn't part of a Sim. I had to say something, something to catch his attention, something to distract him and calm him down. Relying on my charisma to help me out here, I said the first dumb thing I could think of to try and break the tension.

"And that...", I started, weak and a tired smile plastered on my face, pointing a lazy finger towards the dead asshole. His eyes immediately shot to me, somewhat shaking from the shock. "...Is why cardio is important."

My words didn't seem to have the intended effect I wanted, as he didn't say anything back, just looking on in shock before his eyes went back to the body and stayed there. "Y-You... You killed him..."

"Indeed I did.", I reply casually, forcing my aching body to stand up once more, despite its many protests, as I leaned over to inspect the body. I was curious as to why my shot didn't do as much damage as it should have. The guns in cyberpunk were, pardon the pun, packing some serious firepower, especially the big-frame revolvers like this guy had. Even a glancing shot should have exploded his head like a watermelon, so unless the subdermal implants in this world were a lot tougher than I remember, or there was some funky shit going on.

A cursory inspection of the skull revealed that, yes, something fucky was going on. The guy's skull, and I mean the entire thing, was made of metal. I talked about the mask before only covering the top half of his head, but now I learned that that mask pretty much was the top half of his head, as from his jaw upwards, all of his meaty bits were encased in some sort of metallic shell that was either fused with or Replaced his skull. I wasn't even sure how that was possible in the first place. There was a gang in the game that kinda worked like that, the Maelstroms, one of the borg' obsessed gangs I mentioned earlier, but there's a major difference in seeing a stylistic decision in a video game, and seeing it in real life. It was fucking freaky, man.

Anyway, I start rooting through his pockets for loot, but aside from some Eurodollars, the official currency of the city that everyone just shortened to "Eddies", and a handful of rounds for the revolver, the guy had shit on him. Sadly, that was partially literal, as while I said it as an insult initially, he really did smell terrible. I then pry the holster off his belt and attach it to my own, because both it and the gun are now mine by the international right of "Fuck-with-me-and-I-take-your-stuff", the creed all Mercs follow. I also took back my kunai, because that was my stuff to begin with. Made sure to wipe them both off first.

Once I placed the revolver in its old/new home, I turned back to David, who wasn't paying attention to the body anymore, but instead was staring at me like I'd grown a second head. Well, granted, I did just kill a man and loot his corpse, but... Okay, I think I see the problem.

"You okay? You're looking a bit shaken up.", I asked, reaching out a hand to help him up.

He looked at it, then me, then back to the hand, before awkwardly taking it. I hoist him up to his feet and give him a bit of a pat down to brush the sand off him. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. He didn't hit me."

I raise a brow, "You know that's not what I asked." He clammed up instantly, looking away and rubbing his hands together, foot lightly stomping like a nervous tick. I know that tick, I'd seen it enough to get an idea of what was going on in his head. I wanted to pry, try to get him talking and take care of this now, but my instincts were telling me that right now wasn't the moment, that it needed to settle first. He wanted to talk, but he wasn't ready to. I had to give him a bit of space to open up. With that in mind, I turned around and started walking towards the boardwalk, where I knew there would be vending machines, as I had a sudden hole boring its way through my stomach, thanks to the dead guy and his bullshit. I say, "Whatever, you'll talk when you're ready." I made it a few steps more before I realized that he wasn't following me. I looked over my shoulder back at him, and saw him standing there, eyes glazed over in thought. I call out, "Hey, You coming or what? I'm buying."

My words snap him out of his stupor and he quickly follows me up the boardwalk stairs, but he's pretty much silent for the rest of the time we were at the beach. I sent a text to Gloria to come and pick us up early while I was getting a chalupa from one of the machines. That asshole pretty much took whatever stamina and energy I had left, so I decided to cut it off a bit early, plus I knew the kid was gonna need some time after this. I just hope his mom doesn't start asking questions when he gets home and ends up staying all day in his room and not talking... Nevermind, he's a teenager, she'll never notice the difference.

It didn't take long for Gloria to show up, after that, ten minutes at most. When she pulled up to the parking lot, I gave David a quick look, one that he quickly returned, and we both silently agreed; "Do not tell Gloria anything".

I like Gloria. She's a nice lady with a big heart, and has looks that would make most 20-somethings jealous, don't get me wrong... but that chick scares me. While I might be her boss now, there is not a shadow of a doubt in my mind that I would get the mother of all whacks to the head if she ever found out about what happened today. I will tell her eventually... but only after I've put several sheets of bulletproof glass between us first.

I casually strolled past the car as Gloria stepped out of it, walking up to David and giving him a big hug, mumbling questions and things that I couldn't hear. I was headed to the trunk to grab a new set of clothes, discreetly hiding the track pants in one of my other bags, as bloodstains raise a lot of questions. I also took off my new gun and wrapped it up in the jacket of the track suit, tucking it in the same bag. Replacing them was a pair of acid-washed jeans that I found that didn't have holes in them, and a random pink tank top I grabbed from a different bag. It had a cartoon character on it, I think. I also grabbed that trucker hat, because... why not? Speaking of which, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a special bag that I had bought on the down-low earlier today, being careful not to let either of them see it as I loaded it into the trunk. I had certain plans for this item, certain hilarious plans, but given what's happened today though...

"Eh, fuck it, it's not a big deal.", I mutter, grabbing the bag and slamming the trunk closed. Gloria was walking back towards the car when I looked up, while David was just behind her. I took a few steps forward and held out the bag to him. "Here Kid, Happy early birthday or some shit. Was gonna save this to mess around with you later, but I'm not feeling up to it.", I say before shoving the bag into hands so he can't decline, because I knew he would definitely decline if I told him what was in it. Immediately turning around, I'm sure missing the look of absolute confusion on his face, I open up the back seat and climb inside, not even bothering to buckle up. I all but collapsed on the seat, turning on my back and closing my eyes, ready for a much needed nap.

It was a bit later before I heard either of the doors open for the pair to get into the car, and when I barely peaked an eye open, I was tickled to see David seated in the passenger seat, clad in his brand new, and rather expensive, jacket. He also had the biggest dopey smile on his face.

I closed my eyes and let a cheeky grin slip onto my face.

'Good. Glad the price was worth it.'

The drive home was pretty uneventful, though given that I was asleep for most of it, that was pretty much a given.

Gloria ended up dropping David off at their place while I was conked out, so when I eventually woke up, thanks to an obnoxious driver slamming on his horn during another jam, it was just us sitting in the mid-evening traffic. It was just as mind numbing as the first time, but thankfully, this one didn't last nearly as long as the other one had, finally getting a move on soon after I woke up. I slid up to the front seat while we were stopped at a light, and from there, the two of us drove back to my place in relative silence. The atmosphere got a little awkward after a while, as neither one of us seemingly wanted to be the one to start a proper conversation yet. I could understand her hesitance a bit; the corporate landscape probably ingrained into people like her that they pretty much got paid to shut up unless asked otherwise. It was still the first day, so there was gonna have to be an adjustment period before we started getting truly friendly.

That being said, and I wasn't exactly sure why, but she seemed to be on edge for some reason. I was fairly certain she didn't see either the bloody pants or my new firearm, as she was distracted by checking David at the time and I hid them rather well, I think. Was it something I said?

"So...", I start, trying to be rather casual with my tone, to put her at ease a little, "How have you been feeling today? Recovery from the burnout going well?"

The question brought a smile to her face as she glanced at me, though it felt a bit strained. She gave a curt nod before she looked back at the road. "I am doing much better today, thank you. The doctor said it's gonna take a little while before I'm back into what could be considered 'healthy' range, but I'm gonna get there, so long as I get plenty of sleep and proper meals."

"That's good. I was a little worried, you seemed a bit 'off' earlier.", I reply, trying to convey my relief as best as I can.

Gloria tensed a bit, a small bit of red starting to dust her cheeks again. "I-I apologize for my lapse at the diner, I didn't mean to-"

I waved her off, "Don't worry about it. You're still recovering, so a moment here or there is nothing to start slinging sorry's over. Just make sure that if you start feeling off again, just let me know, okay? You're my employee now, so that means you're under my care and are my responsibility. No one, especially me, would want you getting hurt because you didn't tell me when something was wrong."

She paused, the smile on her face turning much more genuine for a moment, "...Of course, Akira. Thank you."

"No problem, Gloria.", I reply, turning my head to gaze out the window. A silence fell between us once again, A comfortable one this time; a calm that stretched on as we drove down the highway.

The neon lights of the overhead billboards and holographic signs springing to life bathed the car with an electric glow as we passed them by. They did what they were designed to do, advertising this product and that. From simple things like beer and food, to more expensive things like the newest model of car, to even recreational things like shows and movies, even if they were completely ridiculous by my world's standards. And of-course, there's the swath of advertisements for performance enhancers for the bedroom, both chemical and cybernetic, plastered on every building-side like an email infested with spam. Ninja's aren't the only horny bastards, regular people can be just as depraved, sometimes more so, if the ad for quadruple breast implants we passed by, or the ad for a beer brand where the model had a can sandwiched between her cleavage, were any indication. It didn't even bother censoring anything on those either. They aren't all like that, but an overwhelming majority of them are.

As we were passing over the bridge that crossed the threshold into the southern tip of Japantown from Vista Del Rey, I heard Gloria speak up again.

"Um... Akira?", She asked, and I turned to her, eyebrow raised. "I... I have a bit of a concern."

"Oh? Is it serious?", I ask back, second brow raising to meet its brother.

"N-No... at least, I don't think so?", she gripped the steering wheel tighter, nervously biting her lip, "It's just... It's about the crash."

"...Yes?", I ask, keeping a calm exterior.

"When you brought me to the clinic and had them look me over... they said I was fine. Not the sort of 'Fine' that you are after a couple of life-saving surgeries, like you would expect after a serious wreck, but the kind of 'Fine' that's closer to putting on a few bandages after falling down the stairs. Now... in any other circumstances, I would've just chalked it up to a lucky day and never thought about it again... but I can't do that here.", She said, her voice becoming sadly vulnerable as she spoke. "I felt the pain, Akira. I felt the pain of my ribs breaking, the wetness at my side of where the bone pierced through. I remember how hard it was to breathe. I worked as an EMT, I know that those kinds of injuries just don't go away, especially so quickly. Add on the fact that I feel better than I have in months, even before I got a proper night's sleep. When I woke up on that road, I noticed so many little aches and pains that were just suddenly gone, despite the new ones I had from the crash... So, I guess what I'm asking is...," She paused, turning to me with a look that felt like she didn't know how to phrase what she wanted to say. "Did... D-Did you do something to me? Do... Do I have something to worry about?"

'Ahh... So that's why...', I thought, a look of realization framing my face. It was obvious, really, looking back on it. I was a little disappointed in myself for not figuring it out sooner. She was an EMT, so of-course she would notice things like that, especially with how bad of a shape she was before I stepped in. Seems like my quiet hopes of her being knocked unconscious on impact had gone up in smoke. Now it was making me answer awkward questions; ones that I had no desire to answer, the worst kind of all. Now, I could've just ignored it, hand-waved it away like it wasn't a big deal and hope Gloria just drops it. That would be the easiest option, probably the smartest. But I didn't want to do that, not to Gloria. I know what it feels like to have questions fester in the back of your mind, that uncertain weight. She just had a boatload of stress pulled off her shoulders, weighing her down for who knows how long. Given my choice of eventual employment, some stress is going to be expected, but I sure as hell wasn't gonna be the one to tack on more if I could help it.

"I see...", I mutter, not dragging my eyes away from the road ahead. I had to think of something to put her at ease, something more believable than 'Magic ninja blood', even if that was the truth. Healing in the cyberpunk world was a lot more 'realistic' than it was in the game, given that the MaxDoc inhalers are just basically painkillers in a tube. So, by that logic, all the other healing items from the game are also more mundane versions of their digital counterparts, and I was fairly certain that all the healing implants you could get were also bogus.

Then, like a dinging lightbulb, it hit me; the perfect answer. Cyberpunk's own version of the phrase 'a wizard did it'...

Blame it on the chrome.

I kept quiet for a moment longer, giving the impression that I was thinking over something, before I spoke.

"Do you remember that story I told you earlier today? About where I came from?", I ask, casually glancing over towards Gloria, who had a confused look on her face, but nonetheless nodded back. "Well, there's more to the story. See, that tumble I took out the window had more of an effect on my parents than you'd think. They became downright paranoid about my well-being, so far beyond common sense that it was almost comical. I was already watched for all hours of the day, sequestered away from the world in a veritable bunker of a room, with a revolving door of tutors and caretakers. I had people taste my food to check for poison multiple times a meal, I had people bathe me because they were afraid I'd slip in the shower, all these things that were completely unnecessary. Then one day... they brought The Doc in.", I explain, playing into my 'runaway scion' backstory I'd made up. It wasn't that hard, because I did have controlling parents in my old life, but nowhere near as bad as I'm making it out to be for this new one.

"The Doc? What, like a RipperDoc? For chrome?", she asked.

"Yup.", I replied back, "Not sure what his name was, but he was very official; very white-labcoat and sterilized rubber gloves. Also had a rather punchable face, if I do say so myself. Anyway, he comes into my room and tells me that it's time for a check-up. They changed out doctors regularly; seeing new faces out of nowhere had become routine at that point, so I didn't even question it. He takes me through the standard tests that you do for a check-up, then out of nowhere, he shoves an inhaler in my face and-", I snap my fingers, "-I'm out like a light."

"...What did they do?", she asked, voice a little low.

I didn't respond initially. After a moment of contemplating how best to explain it, I just decided to go for broke. Without another word, I flicked out my hidden kunai, and in just a second, I'd drawn it lengthwise across the top of my forearm, a long cut that started to bleed profusely. The sight of the act caused Gloria to absolutely freak the fuck out, and given that she was the one driving, that wasn't a very good thing. The car made a sudden swerve as she yanked the wheel to the side, narrowly avoiding a truck whose path we'd drifted into. She quickly pulls the car over to the side of the road and parks it, the sound of the truck driver laying on his horn and belting swears just passing us by. "Are you fucking insane?!", she screamed as she darted her head back to me, eyes wide like saucers.

I hold up a hand, "Gloria, calm down-"

"Calm down!?", She asked rhetorically, "How can you tell me to calm down?! You just-"

"Calm. Down.", I say again, with emphasis. "I'm just trying to show you, now watch." I gestured with the arm that I'd sliced.

She looked at me like I was crazy, and probably would have started yelling again... if my regeneration didn't have a sense of timing and chose that moment to kick in. From the long gash across my arm, a small haze could be seen forming just above the wound, from one tip to the other. A moment later, steam began emanating from the folds of skin, the trickle of blood that seeped out soon being reabsorbed into it as the epidermis stitched and sewed itself back together. The sight caused her eyes to widen further, her brows reaching up into her hairline as she looked on in disbelief, but also in fascination, as she didn't look away as my regeneration ran its course. She even learned in further to get a better look up close. From there, it took a good ten seconds for the wound to fully close, with a quick wipe from my shirt to clean up any excess that didn't get absorbed.

"Wha... What?", Gloria mumbled, dumbstruck.

"Nanomachines.", I reply, getting her attention and drawing her eyes away from my arm, "They're all throughout my body, fixing and repairing any damage I suffer, using my bloodstream as a medium." I give my chest a few taps, right over my sternum. "They replaced my heart with a synthetic implant that serves the same purpose, but also acts as a housing for the bots. Thing is, you wouldn't be able to tell, as the bots take care of any scarring that would have been left behind from the surgery. Really experimental chrome they shoved in me. Doesn't even have a serial number, as far as I know."

"I'll say it's experimental...", she drifted off, her gaze quizzical. "But wait, what does that have to do with-", she suddenly stopped, a look of realization taking over her features. A moment longer, she turned her head away, attempting to hide the blush that was creeping over her cheeks.

"Yeah... See, I didn't have any medical supplies on me when I was at the crash scene. So, I decided to try using nanomachines to help you. But in order to do that, I needed to get them into your body...", I trailed off myself, the admission making me feel kind-of awkward in hindsight. "It was a very public place and I didn't want to draw too much attention, so I had to... you know..."

"The CPR...", she raised a hand to her lips, blush becoming nuclear.

"Yeah... If it's any consolation, the bots should've worked their way out of your system pretty much immediately once they were done, so there shouldn't be any side effects..."

Now, what happened next... I don't actually know. It all happened so quickly that I have a hard time actually remembering. All I do remember is... sitting in the front seat of the car, trying to calm Gloria's fears about any effects that my "Nanomachines" may have had on her, then next thing I know, she abruptly gets out of the car, starts speaking in a rather absurdly quick manner, barely pausing for breath. Then after that, I'm standing on the side of the road, which was coincidentally the street outside my HAB-Complex, with my bags, and Gloria was speeding away in the car, with the horn rapidly honking over and over again.

"...What?"

After... whatever that was, I headed inside to prepare myself for what was gonna be a rather long night.

See, I wanted to at least get in another round of mediation and a quick nap in before I headed out for a proper night on the town. I may have to sublimate my energy levels with untold amounts of caffeine and sugar in the process, but it's nothing that my years of collage week-long study sessions didn't prepare me for. And given the commercial energy drinks available in this place, several of which I'm sure the FDA has never even heard of, it's not gonna be that hard, just gotta make sure to check my left arm regularly and get back before the inevitable crash. Speaking of crashes...

My second round of meditation wasn't all that different from this morning. Focus on the pools, carve the path, let the water flow through, feel the euphoria, rinse and repeat. My legs were the focus of this session, and I'd gotten pretty far into both, but I had to call it quits when I reached my knees. The strain and stamina tax of the process got too much for me to handle any longer. Add that onto the stress on my legs from my earlier run, I was ready to call it quits about twenty minutes in. It seems that, every time I meditate, I'm opening up the flow of chakra so that I can add more points to my ever expanding network, but when I'm done with that session, I can't keep the flow going too long without actively focusing on it, so I'm hit with a "Chakra Crash" every time. It's not as bad as actual chakra exhaustion, where you just don't have any reserves left, but it's still debilitating. To bring the comparison home, it's much like the sudden loss of energy you feel when caffeine wears off, leaving you in a tired state, but still somewhat able to function if you push it. Try to push it too hard though, and something is gonna break.

If I had to guess, If my percentage of chakra access was about 5% that morning, then I'd just upped that by a few points, which wasn't great. I'm pretty much stuck at a standard civilian of the naruto world's level in terms of control. There are literally school children that outperform me.

It's decent progress, truth be told, especially for someone who didn't even have chakra the day before yesterday. That's probably my [Genius] trait at work, making the whole process just slightly easier for me, if no less time-consuming. Unfortunately, until I can get the good majority of my chakra under control, I'm gonna have to be relying on my physical prowess and my tools, with maybe some physical boosts by channeling like I did at the beach. Kinda makes my acquisition of that revolver rather timely. Overtures kick like a fucking mule, I've found, but since it was essentially free, I couldn't complain all that much.

As I'm laying down for my 3rd nap of the day, and having a flash of worry that I'm becoming narcoleptic, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I was forgetting...

-[*?*, 1 hour earlier]-

In a small, tucked away corner of Santo Domingo, just a stone's throw away from the river that ran through the city, sat a nondescript abandoned warehouse, one that had since been converted into a makeshift garage in recent years, once it fell into the hands of a rather portly gentleman by the name of Aldo. There were large shipping containers stacked-up high all over the parking lot, scattered remnants left behind from a now defunct and dissolved shipping company, their cargo having been either stolen or sold off long ago. Recently, Aldo started renting out the space to whoever would pay for it, and he made sure that they could keep up the payments. Violently, if need be. Thankfully for his clientele, it takes only one stupid bastard who thinks he can skip out on the bill for the lesson to properly sink in, especially when said lesson is punctuated by the blunt end of a very large hammer.

"(Sigh)...Feels like the wastes today. Knew the weatherman was full of shit."

Sat just outside one of the garage lots was one such client, relaxing in the midday sun under a large white and yellow parasol, reclined back in the salvaged remains of an old plastic deck chair, now reinforced to handle his weight. He was quite the large man, you see, easily standing at seven-foot when on his feet, and had the bulk to match his frame. He gave the impression of the kind of man that you don't want to cross if you can help it: Bleach-blond hair shaved into a buzz-cut, open black blazer that showed off his impressive torso, sleeves ripped show off his arms, both obviously enhanced with sub-dermal armor plating, a pair of onyx-black shades, a high-caliber pistol strapped to his hip, ready and waiting to be drawn at a moments notice. This is the kind of man who could be seen as the physical embodiment of the word "Cyberpunk". And if you were to say that to his face, he would most likely take it as a compliment.

This man is known as Maine, and he's waiting on a delivery.

He reached over to the table that sat at his side, grasping a small porcelain mug with gentle ease that you wouldn't expect from a set of Gorilla arms. He calmly took a sip of the mellow liquid inside, the drink providing a sense of refreshment needed on a hot day such as this. He'd been waiting for 20 minutes now, and while it wasn't that long of a time, given that he was supposed to have received his package yesterday, he was getting a tad impatient. He knew the courier who was supposed to deliver it rather well, they've been friends for a while now, and she always pulled through on a job. So, when she set up a meeting time the day before and never showed up, practically ghosting him all the while, he began to assume the worst. That maybe she'd been got by some low-life in an alley somewhere, or someone had gotten onto her side hustle and called in a corpo hit-squad.

If that was what went down, then there was gonna be some gonking bastards missing their heads by tomorrow morning.

The sound of crunching gravel drew his attention, a navy blue shitbox of a vehicle pulling into the car park just a couple of yards away. He didn't recognize the car, but he did notice the driver, and a small smile made its way to his face. The car parked in one of the lot's many empty spaces and out stepped a familiar face, one that he was rather glad to see. She walked up the path and came to a stop in front of the man, hands resting on her hips, expression neutral. A beat of silence passed between the two.

"Gloria...", he greeted.

"Maine...", She greeted back.

"...Missed you at the meet-up yesterday.", He says, idly pulling a pack out of his vest pocket and popping a ciggie into his mouth. He takes a big puff after he lights it, the smoke he's careful to blow off to the side.

"Yeah... sorry about that, I got into some...'Car trouble'."

Maine doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he gestures to the other empty seat underneath the parasol, an invitation to sit down. She accepts, casually strolling over and leaning back in the chair as Maine pours her a drink from the awaiting pitcher of tea. Sweet tea, with a hint of lemon. Her favorite. She took a sip of the refreshing beverage, the sugary and tangy taste doing wonders for her stressed-out nerves.

"...That's not your car.", Maine pointed out.

"Well, It is now. Old wheels got totaled, so I had to find something else.", she replied, setting her drink back on the table.

"Hmm...", He took a sip of his own cup, "Did you steal it?"

She shook her head, "Bought it, actually. Completely above board."

Maine raised a questioning brow, "Where did you get that kind of money? Ya didn't take out a loan or something from one of those sharks, Did ya?"

She shook her head again, letting out a small scoff at the thought, "Trust me, I ain't that stupid. I've just... came into some money recently. A new job, with a very nice signing bonus. I'm not gonna be an EMT anymore though, so you're gonna hafta find someone else to swipe your sketchy implants for you.", she says, a somber smile on her face.

"For real?", Maine asked, skeptical. When Gloria nodded to confirm, he took a deep drag of his cig. "Damn... always a sad day when one of the good ones goes straight. Sounds like it's a sweet deal, I'd say, if just the bonus can get you a new car.", He took another drag, "...Though, I am gonna miss this little side thing we got goin' on. I enjoy these little chats or ours. I Definitely know Dorio is gonna miss ya."

"Well... technically, it's new-ish. It'd been sitting for a while, So I was able to work down the price. But still, it was a last minute purchase, courtesy of my new boss.", She corrected, "And yeah, I'm gonna miss her too."

"ooohh..."Maine intoned like he finally understood something, "You'll miss her, but not our talks? I see how it is, Choom, I see how it is..."

Gloria was slightly taken aback, but then a smug grin formed on her face, "Well, can you blame me? Between the two of you, Dorio is clearly the one with better...", she motions towards her chest, lifting her hands like she's bouncing something on her palms, "...'Assets'."

Maine points at her with the fingers the nearly gone cig rested between, "Now hold up, Girl, That just ain't fair. Dorio's still organic up there, Meanwhile I'd have to borg' up just to compete in the first place.", He said back, mock offense on his face. "Them's some stacked brackets. I ain't one to take a gonk's bet. And besides...", he paused to take another drag of his smoke, "We both know that between the two of us, you're the one jealous of *my* dashing good looks."

The pair glared at each other for a long moment, both faces twisted into a challenging scowl towards the other. They looked into eachother eyes, or at least they tried to, as Maine was still wearing his shades, but that didn't stop Gloria from silently daring him to flinch. But, as expected, neither of them could keep up the charade for much longer, as both struggled to keep from cracking a smile, in a way that looked like it was causing them real pain. The pair of good friends fell into hysterics at nearly the same split-second, belting out laughter in a way that people who'd been in on a joke that no one else was privy to, and that made it all the funnier to the duo. They'd had many back and forths like this over the past few years, though they usually lasted much longer than this one had. The infamous "Pie vs Cake '' debate of 2074 was a good example, as that debate had devolved into a near week-long Campaign, with both of them roping any of their friends that they could into it to break the stalemate.

To this day, Dorio refuses to take a side, partly because she thought the whole affair was stupid, but mostly because she didn't have the heart to tell either of them that she preferred Brownies.

"Aha... Aha...", breathed Gloria, coming down from her laughing fit, still clutching her sides. She wiped a tear from her eye. "Hah... Thanks Maine. I needed that."

"No problem, Gloria.", he sighed back, leaning in his seat from his own fit. With things in a much more jovial mood, Maine asked, "So... Tell me about this new boss of yours. He treating you right?" He brought up one of his massive hands and gripped tightly, the metal plates embedded within creaking under the strain as he flexed. "Need me to pay him a visit? You know, just to straighten 'em out?"

"Heh heh, no Maine, that won't be necessary.", she replied, awkwardly running a hand through her scarlet hair. At least, she hoped it wasn't.

The last 48 hours have been one long and emotional clusterfuck for Gloria, one that she was still trying to get a proper grasp on. It still didn't feel real to her. She kept waiting for the other boot to drop, and not on her miraculous new job either, it being revealed to be a ploy to kidnap her and sell off her organs or something stupid like that. Her organs weren't good enough for that anyway, she checked. No, she was afraid, even if just in the back of her mind, that nothing was real. She'd been expecting it to happen at any moment now; for the sights and sounds of her world to crumble like a pane of broken glass, or slip through her fingers like a river of cruel sand. For her to wake up back on that bloody street, and that everything had been a sick joke that her brain decided to play on her as she bled out on the pavement.

She knew it was stupid, just a paranoid fear weighing her down. She hadn't had many good things happen in her life that she didn't make for herself. Save for her son. She'd been burned one too many times by things seeming too good to be true, and she'd gone against her instincts enough times to say that they always were. Her "marriage" had been the straw that broke the camel's back. From that point on, she didn't take anything the world threw at her, good or bad. No settling or taking handouts, she'd carve the life she wanted from the city itself if she had to. The best life for the both of them.

Then, the accident changed all that. It gave quite the bitter wake-up call. For all the sacrifices she'd made, all the things she'd done for that life, it never even occurred to her to ask what David wanted. She'd grown bitter, resentful, so stuck in her mindset of making her choices be worth it that she'd ignored the suffering of her child. Worse than ignoring, she'd dismissed it outright or just chalked it up to teenage angst. That was something she'd probably never forgive herself for. That's why she wanted to believe Akira was genuine, desperately so, to make up in some way for all that's gone wrong. She wanted to start over, build a better life, free from all that. He'd already done so much for them, in just a short time. The funds, the healthcare, even just his job offer was enough to give her the strength she needed to tell off her boss like she'd always wanted to.

A small smile graces her face. That was a particularly satisfying moment.

"He's kind...", she said, the words slipping from her lips before she realized she'd said it. She looked back to Maine, who'd raised a brow at her comment, but said nothing. He gestured to her to keep going. She readjusted in her seat as she composed herself. "...He pays well. Much better than I was making as an EMT.", she waves a hand at Maine, "Still not as much as you and your 'Jobs', but for someone like me, it's more than enough. Hours aren't too bad either, I can actually get through a day without having to drink 12 cans of ColdBrew." And she was eternally grateful for that, ColdBrew tastes like old dishwater. The only reason she drank it was because it had the highest caffeine content you could legally get before going into heart-attack territory.

"Hmm... (inhale)Interesting. What's his name?"

"Akira... Akira Uzumaki."

Maine grimaced, "Sounds like a corpo name. Probably connected to Arasaka."

"Actually, believe it or not, he isn't. He wants to be a Merc, too."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Not a bit. Told me himself. He's doing some personal training at the beach at the moment."

"How long has he been at it? He got a handle, maybe I've heard of him?"

"I doubt it, he's only been in town for a few days. He-"

Gloria stops in her train of thought, a brief flickering of light could be seen in her eyes. Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she shifted attention; got a text, if Maine had to guess. From this new boss of hers, if he guessed again. Her expression briefly shifted to surprise, before it became neutral again, and she nodded her head once, the flickering in her eyes fading immediately after. Her eyes refocused again, landing on Maine, where she gave an apologetic smile.

"Heh, sorry about this, but duty calls. Akira needs me to pick him up.", she says, standing up from her seat, briefly stretching as she does so. "Gonna have to finish this up now, then." With practiced ease, she then slides an arm around her waist and reaches into the back of her jacket. Her hand snakes in between the lining and a special fold she'd had sown into the faux-leather of her coat, specifically for jobs like this, and pulls out the package that Maine had been so eager for.

Wrapped and sealed inside an Air-tight plastic bag was what looked like most of a human spine, or a facsimile of one, made of metal and wire. Consisting of 7 individual plates: 4 tapered pentagons that travel up the spine, two bracing plates that sit at the base of the neck and skull, and a "Tail", for lack of a better word, that would sit at the small of the back, all connected together by a series of arms that branch out every other plate, ones with locks and bolts for mounting the device to the very vertebrae themselves. It was still covered in the blood of it's previous owner, with splotches of red and white staining the plates, and the wires jutting out from the arms frayed and torn; reminders of the sad fate of the owner, and the rushed job required to remove it before anyone would notice it was missing.

"Hear you go...", exclaimed Gloria in a fake chipper voice, reminiscent of an old, early 21st-century tv salesman. "One 'freshly acquired' Sandevistan: military grade! This little baby sends your brain into overdrive and sets your reflexes to turbo! Just one little jump of electricity to your cerebral cortex and watch as the world around you slows to a crawl. Never worry about your enemies getting the drop on you again!", she then covers her mouth with her hand and starts speaking in a deep, sped-up voice. "Warning, The Arasaka corporation is not responsible for any illegal activities perpetrated with the use of our products. Side effects may include: headaches, nosebleeds, uncontrollable bowel movements, severe possibility of gray matter leakage, and death."

Maine couldn't help but let out a boisterous laugh at Gloria's act, clutching his belly at how random it was.

Gloria smiled sardonically, "Yeah yeah...", she says as she tosses the bloody implant into the man's lap. "You should be giving me extra pleases and thank yous for that little number there. Had to cut it out of a guy who went psycho and took out a whole lotta cops. And Corpos. And pretty much anyone else who had the bad luck of being in the general area when shit went down, so there was a lot of heat. The job was done in-transit, so if the wires are a little mangled, suck it up. It was the best I could do, and I barely got that done."

Maine let his laughter die down as he picked up the implant, but it didn't diminish his joy in the slightest. In fact, unless you knew him, the look on his face could be misconstrued as a simple approving smile and accompanying nod. But Gloria did know him, so she could tell he was like a kid at Christmas right now. How else are you supposed to act when you just got the hottest "toy" on the market?

"Alright alright...", He intoned, taking a drag that was so long that he completely depleted the freshly lit deathstick between his lips. "(Exhale) ...This some good shit right here. You really came through this time, Girl. As promised...", His eyes flickered for a moment, and Gloria received a notification from her hud: A deposit into her account, one that was a few grand higher than what she was expecting. She turned her glance back to Maine with a silent question. Maine just looked smug as he lit up his fifth cig since they started talking. "Consider it a farewell gift, and congratulations on the new job."

"Hmm... Thanks Maine.", She says, reaching out hand. He takes it easily, his grip easily dwarfing hers, but he's careful with his strength. The pair of friends broke of the handshake after a moment, and Gloria turns towards her car, hands tucked into her pockets as she strides towards it. "See you around.", she calls back over her shoulder.

"See you around, Gloria.", he replies, giving her a single wave as she unlocks her car and steps inside. In just a few moments, she's backed the car out of the lot and is on her way, driving down the highway and far out of sight.

A somber mood falls over the lot as Maine takes a drag, his smile falling to a more contemplative expression.

Despite his earlier protests, he was secretly glad that she had gotten out of the game, at least directly. He wasn't quite sure about this "Uzumaki" character, but even if he wasn't completely above-board, he's still probably better than the corpo option. Maine figured that they would have to break things off at some point anyway, as bodies can only turn up with missing chrome so many times before people start asking questions. And in the corpo world, questions never end well. For anyone. He's just glad she got out before things got serious. He would still keep an eye out for her though, there wasn't even a question of that. She was one of his people, after all, and he takes care of his people. Even if he has to bust a gonk's head or two every now and then.

His eyes fell to the gift in his lap, a piece of chrome he'd been wanting to get his hands on for quite a while now. And what was better: it was military grade, and that meant experimental. It probably had a few bugs and kinks to work out, but hey, what's a couple of glitches when you're fast enough to take out a whole room in the blink of an eye. He was gonna be unstoppable!

But, despite his internal musings and deflections, Maine couldn't help but have a small tingle at the base of his spine, this... odd sense that he couldn't quite shake as he looked at the implant in his hands...

Shifting sands...

He shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn't start getting cold feet now, he had a job coming up. And this little puppy was gonna make it a piece of cake.

His eye's flicker once more.

"Dorio... I got it... Also, Gloria says Hi."

[End of chapter.]

AN: Well folks, thats it for chapter 3, thank you for reading, please leave a comment if it strikes your fancy and I'll see you next time.