Cyberpunk 2077 is pretty rough-edged, but dangerous. Last Sunday, instead of doing a spot of unpacking and car-washing and painting like I intended, I ended up sucked into the streets of Night City until 1am. Did a few gigs, seriously pissed off the Voodoo Boys, and purchased a cheap car with the handling of a large, road-worthy brick.

Anyway, this just fell out of my head. In Mega-City One this would probably land me in the iso-cubes.

So me and the boys - Big Red, Clancy, Spider, Billy the Squid, and good ol' Zipper - cornered the chump. Just drove that crazy custom bike into a dead end and waited for us to park him in.

- Watch it chooms, - I remember telling the boys, because he didn't run. Just sat there on his bike for a bit and then looked at us.

That look really screwed with me. That crazy helmet had little lightning bolts cut into the visor, looked heavy. Like those crazy-ass shitkicker boots he had on. Like these crazy pauldrons, one looking like a bird, the other... well, dunno. And this big badge with a bird on it and the name BLAKE. And his face... all I could see was his mouth, and it was... not fucking human, lemme tell ya. It was just a grim line. And I'm thinking cyberpsycho.

Billy's looking mad when I check him, and he texts me 'No cyberware'. Which is kinda what the fuck, cos every gonk in Night City's chipped, right? Which means the Squid can't reboot his eyes or fry him with a shortcirc. I mean this creep had interrupted some biz we were doing. Debt collection. Bastard ordered us to surrender, then janked Mary when she pulled him first. Winged Zipper, so the Z was itching for some payback. Six chooms on one gonk should be easy, right?

- Last chance, creeps, - he says, couldn't grok his confidence. - Throw away your weapons, on the ground, hands over your head. -

- You cray thinkin' like you NCPD! You ain't no lawman! - Z freaking. I was kinda wary too. Hanging back, manning the van. A getaway was looking more smart by the minute.

- I am the Law, creep. -

And Zipper got whacked. Three shots, head and heart, like dead-fucking-on, guy must have had ware but not according to the Squid, must've been fucking air gapped or something. So I yell to Red to grab the fucker and take him down. Thought then Billy the Squid could jack in that way.

You know Red, real meatsicle, bit roided but one damn good huscle. Was, I mean. His armour managed to stop the mook's bullets until he yelled - Gun! High ex! - and I am not making this up, the next shots exploded. Blew his fucking head open. And the gang retreated. Billy was first in the van, then Clancy holding up Spider, and I was in reverse and backing the fuck outa Dodge, smacked some Galena didn't get outa the way, and we're haring up the freeway, right?

Then the fucker catches up and his fucking bike has fucking guns on it. No idea how many rounds, but I can hear them hitting, and I'm working the wheel to avoid the tyres getting hit, and Billy is peering out the back windows before dropping to the floor just as the glass breaks.

- That fucking bike! I can't work out its sys! - which is something you don't expect Billy the Squid to say, guy's one hell of a tech, and then this crazy fuck shoots the doors of the back and Billy falls out.

We're down to me, Spider and Clancy, mister I-am-the-law and about three nancy cars, lights and sirens going, and I'm happy as a sandboy to see them. Then I look forward and yell to brace and hit the brakes hard cos a fuckin' nancy AV landed in front of us.

And I do the sane thing, out of the van and face down hands up cos I was not gonna take chances with crazy fuck. Nancies do their usual shouting over each other, and I feel boots on my back and the cuffs going on, and hauled into the AV. Billy was dropped in as well, plenty of road rash, and it's by crazy fuck.

- Aggravated robbery. Assault of a Judge. - Seriously, you could hear the capital letter. - Reckless driving. That's seven years in the iso-cubes. Authorised by Judge Blake. -

Well, while getting all written up, you know what that means, found out that the nancies have been trying to work out where this Judge Blake guy comes from. He's not on their contractor books. Nobody seems to know where he lives. They put feelers out, no club sightings, nothing. In fact, they cut me a deal.

If I can find deets on this Judge Blake, I get a pretty fat eddie roll, more eddies than I can spend in a lifetime. Want a cut? You're a smart choom, you know what comes next.

For the benefit of those without television, 'nancy' is obviously slang for the NCPD. You're not a gonk, you work it out.