FOURTH_TIMER: 6%
[IMAGE OF A HAND REACHING OUT TO THE SUN DISPLAYED]
CURRENT_STATUS: "This Broken World"
ENTRY_DATA:
You're rallying support for the gig that will grant you a new possibility, and it's all going smoothly. Nova.
But there are a few more pieces that need to be put in place, and you're really beginning to test your luck now. Doesn't matter how close you are with your chooms, they've got their own ambitions, doubts, interests, and journeys to lead. They might not have it as bad as you do, but they have their own struggles in life they have to deal with, all the same.
Will you drag them all into the new corporate game you're playing, just to cheat death?
"So, will you lend a hand?"
V stood by the gentle campfire alongside Panam, Saul, and Mitch, having left the Basilisk's tent to rejoin the rest of the drinking nomads. They were far enough from the crowd that their voices wouldn't carry, yet close enough to feel the caress of camaraderie and the flickering flames.
Panam closed her eyes and took a long, deliberate gulp from the dark green bottle of beer in her hand, savouring the cool liquid as it slid down her throat. The delay seemed intentional, a way to gather her thoughts as she prepared to answer V's question.
Saul leaned against a nearby crate, his brow furrowed in contemplation, while Mitch poked at the fire with a stick, the crackling of burning wood filling the silence. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of desert sage and gasoline, but the sizzling alcohol kept them comfortably warm.
Panam finally opened her eyes, her gaze steady and piercing as she spoke to the mercenary.
"What are you—stupid? Of course I will." she responded firmly with a bright smile, playfully tapping her foot against V's. "Did you really think we'd leave you hung out to dry?"
V tried his best to veil his sense of relief. "Well, I mean—I did just piss you off…"
"You sure did." Panam quickly agreed, pausing to take another swig of her drink. "But—you know us, we…"
"We never forget our debts." Saul finished Panam's sentence, his voice gruff and tested.
V glanced at the few nomads around him, the sense of relief he felt growing and becoming increasingly more difficult to keep bottled up. While the merc had already considered Panam the most likely person out of his pool of choices to accept his call to action, actually posing the question to her had still felt like a wild gamble.
The flickering firelight danced on their faces, highlighting the resolve that shone deeply in their eyes. V's apprehensions were completely unfounded; the Aldecaldos had proven time and time again that despite their occupancy as a ragtag group of criminals—thieves even—they held a remarkable sense of honour and duty that was not easily shaken. The mercenary silently admired that.
"Still, you should know, V…" Panam's voice softened, her smile wavering as concern overtook her features. "...I don't like this—not one bit. Cutting a deal…with a suit?"
"Yeah, yeah…I know." V groaned, already expecting the lecture.
"This isn't just a gig with a score to be made." she pressed on, worry etched into her face. "You're betting your own—"
V's head snapped towards Panam as she abruptly halted mid-sentence. Her eyes widened in realisation; she could not mention his impending doom, nor that he was betting his life. He hadn't disclosed his situation to the Aldecaldos—and perhaps never would. Panam reacted swiftly, falling into a brief coughing fit as if she had choked on her beer, before speaking again.
"Um, you know…since you're betting a whole lot on this job." Panam corrected herself. "Corpo assholes will promise you the whole world…but at the end of the road…all you get is the finger."
"I mean—you don't even know the guy. You really that sure that he won't—"
Panam's expression darkened and her tone turned razor sharp as she interrupted him. "Yes."
The merc held the same suspicions, but still grimaced at the nomad's answer, desperately wanting it to not be true. This had been the first time in a long while that the faintest ember of hope burned in his heart, but it was already at threat of being extinguished again.
V's voice grew slightly downtrodden. "Well…I still appreciate that you're gonna help."
"Course she will, V. Poor girl's got a soft spot for you!" Mitch injected with a hearty cackle as he rose from his knees and tossed a final wooden stick into the campfire.
Saul and Mitch descended into an amused laughter, watching Panam's face flush a light shade of red with embarrassment. Their amusement quickly turned to retreat as she threw her bottle to the ground and took a step towards them.
"Ughh—go on, get outta here!" she groaned, shooing the nomads away from V until they joined the rest of the Aldecaldos on the other side of the camp.
"They're a riot." V chuckled, shaking his head.
"They're morons." Panam grumbled, clearly annoyed. But her expression softened, and a reluctant smile crept back onto her face. She shrugged in acceptance as she watched them cheer and holler amongst the rest of the nomads. "...and they're family."
The cold breeze of nightly air brushed up against Panam and V both, sending small shivers down their spines, and they glanced at each other. With the moon and the stars out in full view, the time had already rushed past midnight, and even the most rambunctious of nomads were beginning to turn in for a rest.
"It's getting late. Stay over for the night." Panam suggested, though the firm nature of her tone made it sound far more like a command.
"Uh—" the mercenary stammered, gazing at the Porsche parked on the outskirts of the camp. "I can't really stick around, Panam. I've still got chooms I gotta ask for help."
Panam's head tilted slowly to one side. "Oh yeah…? How many?"
"Besides you? Just two."
"Wait—am I…the first person you asked for help?"
V paused for a moment, then cracked a small grin. "Yeah, uh, I guess you were."
The look on Panam's face shifted from curiosity to something more tender, though she quickly tried to mask it, refusing to show the sudden flutter she felt in her heart. And yet, despite her best efforts to remain composed, the gleeful pride she held from being relied on by V radiated off of her, almost as a tangible glow.
"Huh…ahem—" she responded, attempting to sound nonchalant before she awkwardly cleared her throat. "...anyway, you still have to stay the night. I'm not letting you get behind the wheel with those bags until your eyes. You can head out first thing tomorrow, is that understood?"
Unwilling to argue against her sincere concern, V playfully stood at attention and bowed his head.
"Yes, ma'am." he answered cheekily.
With the moment of levity, Panam turned on her heel and led the mercenary away from the campfire, navigating around several nomads that had drunk themselves into a stupor, until they reached the rows of the Aldecaldos' tents. The tattered, untidy tents hardly looked luxurious, but their sturdiness and reliability almost made up for it.
Sand crunching beneath their boots, they approached the tents close to the centre of the row, their eyes catching an older woman as she passed by the pair. With her distant gaze, dark hair, and bright red shades, it only took a moment for V to recognize the woman as Carol Emeka—once a soldier, and now a jaded techie for the Aldecaldos.
Carol's cold stare lightened slightly as she spotted the pair, and she gave them a wave. "Oh, V? Didn't know you were here."
"Hey. Yeah." the merc replied, his voice a bit stilted.
Panam took a step toward the grizzled techie and patted the mercenary on the back. "He's just stopping by and staying the night."
"Uh-huh…" Carol responded, a strange, knowing smile spreading across her face as she eyed the pair up and down.
"W-What?" Panam stuttered as she failed to hide the slight blush creeping up her cheeks.
Failing to notice the smile, V waded past both nomads and approached the tents. He recognized Panam's personal tent immediately and briskly walked past it, choosing to open the flap to the empty tent directly beside it. With the flap resting on his shoulder, he looked back at Panam and Carol and nodded at them.
"Thanks for letting me stay, chooms. I'll be outta your hair by the morning." he said, appreciation teeming in his tone. "Goodnight."
Both Panam and Carol went frigid as they watched the clueless mercenary enter the empty tent, their faces turning incredulous and mostly drained of emotion—especially Panam's. V frowned at the strange reaction from the nomads, almost stepping out of the tent as he wondered what he had done wrong.
"Everything alright…?" he asked, perplexed, raising an eyebrow.
Panam quickly shook her head in denial, unmistakably embarrassed as she frantically scrambled towards her own tent. Her face was a mix of mortification and amusement.
"No, uh—goodnight, V!" she called out, her voice muffled as she threw herself inside her tent.
V, confused beyond measure, turned to look back at Carol, his expression completely dumbfounded. Right at the last moment, he had clearly done something to bother her, but he simply could not tell what it might have been. Stricken with sudden guilt, he observed Carol staring down at him, her arms folded as she shook her head disapprovingly.
"I don't get it—what did I do wrong?" he blurted out, not appreciating the stare that was piercing through him.
Carol sighed, her disappointment evident. "I can't tell if you're a gonk or if you just act like one to avoid dealing with this stuff…"
"Wha—the hell are you talking about?"
Unprompted, Carol unfolded her arms and bent her knees, leaning in closer to the hapless merc to reluctantly whisper a revelation to him. Immediately after muttering the truth, Carol swiftly turned her back and strode off, fading away into the murky darkness of the stifling night and leaving the man all alone to contemplate what she said.
"She wanted you to pick her tent."
"V?! Where the hell have you been?"
With his Porsche barreling across the streets of Night City, V had started a holocall with River Ward—one of precious few detectives of the NCPD left that was not completely and utterly rotten to the core—while committing his line of sight on the road. The blazing sun of a new day was out in full force, casting harsh shadows on the vehicle as it sped past countless red lights and careened around numerous sharp turns.
"River! How've you been, choom? Joss and the kids doing alright?" V happily responded, pleased that his friend had answered his holocall so quickly.
"We've been fine—no, seriously, V." River's stammering voice crackled through the call, higher than usual in pitch as he was caught off-guard, yet still incredibly deep and suave. "Are you alright? You haven't been answering your calls lately…"
V flinched as he heard Panam's words echoed by River, the tinge of guilt once again returning. He would have to recount the story of his encounter with Hanako Arasaka and his declining health again—not to mention an explanation regarding the Relic inside of his head. The mercenary had spoken to precious few people about the prototype that was killing him; River was not one of those people yet.
"Yeah, sorry about that." V spoke with a sigh, his tone growing more despondent. "It's a long story…can we meet?"
River sounded slightly unnerved through the call. "What—right now?"
"Sure, I'm out and about. Where're you at?"
"I'm, uh, parked outside a bar—it's called Red Dirt." River answered hesitantly.
Just hearing the name sent a flood of memories rushing through V's head, clean and untouched despite the degradation of his mind.
Red Dirt. The place where V had surrendered control of his body at the behest of both Johnny and his old bandmate Kerry Eurodyne for an exhilarating, neon-soaked night of passion. It had been Samurai's one-time comeback, a night where the mercenary had felt every movement, every pluck of the electric guitar's strings, as Johnny took the reins and sent a sea of ecstatic faces into the soul-infused frenzy.
It did not matter that he had not been in control, V could still feel the raw energy of that night—and perhaps he even enjoyed it.
Still, he was reluctant to ever let it happen again. Taking a backseat in his own mind and relinquishing control to Johnny only served as a reminder that such a thing would soon be his permanent fate, if he could not find a way to stop it.
Shaking off the wave of nostalgia, V quickly refocused on the conversation.
"Nova, I know the place. I'll be there in five." V said, his voice steady as he gunned the engine, pushing the Porsche to its limits and weaving expertly through traffic.
"Uh—sure, I'll…be right here." River muttered, his voice sounding strangely flat before the holocall abruptly cut off into static.
A flicker in the rearview mirror caught V's attention. Rogue pixels gathering as Johnny materialised in the backseat, lounging with his trademark nonchalance, a cigarette ever dangling from his lips.
"That guy didn't sound right, V. Something's off." Johnny commented aloud, exhaling a stream of virtual smoke. He leaned back, his piercing gaze fixed on V.
V frowned, glancing at Johnny through the mirror, nearly whipping his head around and taking his eyes off of the road. "The fuck? What're you doing back there? You never sit in the back of the car."
"I'm not in the car at all, dumbass." the rockerboy promptly fired back with an amused smile before he continued. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah…course I heard. I dunno what to say, maybe he was just distracted."
"Could be." Johnny replied, a hint of concern in his voice. "Or maybe something's got him by the balls. Still want to ask him to risk his neck for you?"
"You're not gonna talk me out of this, Johnny. I already made that clear." the mercenary growled back.
"Not trying to talk you out of it…you've got pretty good leverage anyway. Could always bring up that you saved his nephew."
V sighed slowly as he imagined having that conversation with River. "It'd…kinda be a dick move, wouldn't it?"
The digital phantom turned his head away for a moment, almost as though he was pondering that question. As his gaze returned to V, his hands readjusted the red shades on his head and his voice grew slightly more stern.
"Yeah…" Johnny confirmed, his digital form flickering slightly.
As the Porsche roared down the road, the towering silhouette of Red Dirt began to loom into view. The neon sign buzzed faintly, casting a crimson hue over the gritty exterior of the bar even in the broad daylight. V screeched to a halt, the tires of his Porsche squealing in protest as he manoeuvred it into a tight parking spot.
He hopped out of the car, scanning the mostly desolate street—the place only had its crowds once the sun went down.
River Ward stood nearby, leaning casually against his own car—a rugged, black Thorton Mackinaw with dents and scratches plaguing its every side. The detective's presence was insanely commanding; he cut an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered.
River's one remaining dark brown eye was sharp, always alert and scanning his surroundings. His chiselled features were marred by a few old scars, as was typical with those that had seen more than their fair share of action. His strong jaw was set in a determined line, and his lips, usually pressed into a thin, contemplative line, twitched slightly as he noticed V approaching.
He was dressed in a worn, brown leather jacket, and underneath the jacket, a simple black t-shirt clung to his large, muscular frame. His jeans, faded and slightly frayed at the edges, hung low over his sturdy boots.
"V…" River greeted, his voice completely marred with unease, so much so that even the mercenary took notice. He pushed off from his car and extended a hand to the merc.
"River." V replied, still smiling and opting to shake his hand, yet it was clear that something was definitely off. "You good?"
The detective took too long to answer, far too occupied with scanning the area around him with a frantic fervour, glancing at every passerby as if they were a suspect. The windows of his car looked significantly different from the last time V had met him as well, heavily tinted to obscure whatever may have rested in the interior, nearly to an obsessive degree.
River's eyes flashed with uncertainty before he quickly masked it and finally answered. "Yeah. It's great to see you again. Just wish…you had better timing."
Johnny materialised, standing beside V, his digital form shimmering into view. He leaned in close to the merc, his voice a low murmur. "Told you, V. Look at him—he's shitting himself."
V nodded subtly, silently admitting that the rockerboy's intuition was right once again, his senses heightened as he turned his attention back to River. "So…this a bad time?"
River continued to glance around before speaking in a low, urgent tone. "Just been…busy lately. You asked about Joss, but I haven't seen them in a while myself—or the kids. Feels like I'm always working now."
"Working…? NCPD's got you sniffing around here?" V questioned as he motioned towards the barren spot they stood in, and the bar that was still not open yet.
River's sole eye darkened and his jaw clenched. "No…no. I'm not a badge anymore, V."
"...what?"
"After what happened with Randy, and all that mess with Harris…" River began, his voice carrying the weight of fresh, nightmarish wounds. "Everything just…fell apart. Couldn't keep it all held together. Thing is—nobody down at the precinct bats an eye if you break the rules…until you break their rules, step on the wrong toes."
"So, what—they kicked you off the force?"
"More accurate to say they goaded me into quitting. Kept making it impossible to work one way or the other. Eventually…I had to let go."
"Huh, sorry about that, choom…" V sympathised with the man, despite how unaffected he seemed to be.
River shook his head uncaringly. "It's fine—good, even. Pay was shit anyway…and right now, I gotta make as much as I can…for Randy's sake. The hospital bills…well, I'd say they're costing me an arm and a leg, but that'd be too fucking generous…"
"You've found another way to make scratch?"
The question immediately made River shift around anxiously, his eyes breaking contact with V's own gaze.
"Yeah, something like that…" the man answered, his tone evasive. "I'm…a private detective now. It's…good. Gives me the freedom to pick my cases, with even less red tape than usual. Suits me better."
V gave a supportive smile at the news. "Nova, that sounds—"
Thud.
The Thorton Mackinaw shook.
The mercenary's attention was immediately gripped by the sudden movement and sound from the vehicle behind River. The entire car had unmistakably shook, and the detective seemed just as unnerved as V by it, though not for the same reason. Peering through the darkness of the tinted windows, V's enhanced optics managed to discern a shadowy figure inside the Thorton, swaying and moving in one of the seats, clearly nervous as it was aware that it had been noticed.
Instinctively, V's hand flashed towards his holster, though his self control stopped him from pulling out his gun. His eyes darted from the unknown individual inside the car back to River, who grimaced as his secret had been discovered.
"River." V spoke, his voice quiet yet burning with intensity. "Who've you got in there?"
The detective finally stopped leaning on the Thorton and straightened himself, holding both of his hands up and attempting to ease the alarmed mercenary.
"Easy, V."
"You know, I came here to talk to you about some serious shit, and you've got someone hiding in your car—listening in on all this?"
"...sorry. I just…didn't want you to know—" River began to reassure his agitated friend, before hesitating and abruptly biting his tongue, a thrashing wave of embarrassment and shame obviously holding him back. It did not hold him for long, however, as he chose to reach behind him to the door of the car. "...forget it, I'll just show you."
The detective's hand gripped the handle, and one of the doors of the Thorton gave a satisfying click before opening. Stepping aside, River allowed V to lean forward and peer into the car. Dark and dingy as it was, the mercenary squinted, his eyes adjusting to the dim light to see the figure concealed inside, comfortably tucked into the seats.
The shadowy figure was a boy—a very young boy, lying casually in the back of the car with his feet kicked up near the windows.
As V's eyes adjusted, he could finally make out the boy's appearance properly. The child had dark hair with a single red-dyed strand running through it and peachy skin. His build was lean and wiry, almost worryingly thin, and his bright hazel eyes shone through the darkness. The boy's outfit consisted of a black leather jacket reinforced with padding, a red t-shirt underneath with a logo that had long since faded, and scuffed, worn-out black trainers. The final detail that caught V's attention was the circuit pattern tattooed on the boy's right temple, an obvious sign of installed cyberware.
The boy groaned, acting allergic to the sun as the car's door opened, holding one scrawny arm up in defence from the bright light of the outdoors, his body sprawled across the interior of the vehicle as he remained lying on his back.
"Urgh, close the fucking door, would you? Trying to nap in here." he opened his mouth to speak, revealing his jagged, shark-like teeth.
V was beyond perplexed. "Who are you?"
"Wha—who am I? Who the fuck are you?!" the boy's sharp teeth flashed in the light as he angrily countered the merc.
Before their exchange could escalate and flare up further, River quickly approached the opening of the car, positioning himself between the mercenary and the riled up youth.
"Calm down." he ordered, his hands motioning between the two. "V, this is Kaito. Kaito...this is V."
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as V and Kaito stared at each other, the silence thick with curiosity and caution. Then, the stillness shattered.
Kaito's jagged teeth gleamed as his mouth twisted into a wide, cheery grin. Recognition lit up his eyes, and he clicked his heels together before leaping out of the car. Without warning, he grabbed V's hand and gave it a firm, enthusiastic shake.
"V?! Oh shit—how the hell are you, choom?!" he cackled, his short, unkempt hair fluttering in the breeze.
Instinctively, V pulled his hand away, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise. "What the—have I met you before…?"
Kaito's laughter echoed, unabated. "Nah, nah, never! But River's told me all about you! Really wow'd me with all the stories of his unstoppable merc friend! Hm…but I thought you'd be taller…"
V hardly knew how to react in the presence of the eccentric, short-statured boy. Of all the people the mercenary was accustomed to dealing with, from all walks of life, children remained at the very bottom of the list. Taking a step backwards, V pivoted to River, praying for a more thorough explanation.
"River, seriously, what the fuck?" he groaned.
The detective looked beyond embarrassed, his expression bursting with sheepish discomfort. He gently pushed Kaito back into one of the car seats, and the boy happily resumed kicking his feet up on the window. With the car door still open, River revealed the painful and shameful truth to V through gritted teeth.
"Kaito Yukimura. He's my...business partner. He manufactures, and I..." River's voice lost all its strength and grew coarse, the admittance proving to be pure agony. "...I sell."
V's eyes widened in disbelief. "You sell…what?"
Kaito, unfazed by the tension, grinned broadly. "Glitter! And lemme tell you, it's making bank." His tone was almost playful, completely contrasting with the severity of River's confession.
V's heart dropped the moment he heard the name Glitter be uttered. The reputation of Glitter had been inescapable on the streets; it was a fresh, new psychedelic drug that could deliver unrivalled highs, setting your soul aflame at the cost of potentially losing it forever. Its burning, red dust was capable of completely tearing weak systems asunder, and despite how recent its arrival was, it had already claimed a fair list of fatalities.
The drug was far beyond dangerous—it was destructive.
"Glitter…? Glitter?!" V repeated in stunned shock. "Are you fucking kidding me? That shit kills."
"All drugs can kill." Kaito gave a retort with a roll of his eyes, answering before River could. "Besides, it ain't the Glitter you know. Just, uh, gimme a sec."
Unprompted, Kaito sat upright and leaned to one side, his hands reaching far into the back of the vehicle. The sound of scraping and clunking followed as he fished through the shadowy mess, eventually retrieving a small, sleek case. Burying his right hand into his jacket's large pocket, he pulled out an entire ring of keys, rusted, old-fashioned, and completely jumbled together. It took him time, but sifting his fingers through the keys, he found the correct one with his sense of touch alone, and inserted it into the lock on the case, rotating the key until the case gave an audible click.
With the case unlocked, he opened it to reveal several vials filled with a shimmering, iridescent red powder. The boy took one vial out of the compartment inside of the case and shook it between his fingers playfully.
"Ta-da! New and improved Glitter, made with ol' grandma's recipe." Kaito lied with a most foolish smile.
"New…and improved, huh?" V repeated sceptically as he eyed the crimson powder.
"What's with that look? I'm serious! This is way better than the stuff you used to find on the streets. I've upp'd the atenolol, added other beta blockers, lessened the lysergic acid, changed the—"
"How old are you, kid?" V impatiently cut him off with a question, not believing a single one of his claims.
The boy did not miss a beat. "Twenty seven."
The digital image of Johnny returned, materialising right by V's side as they simultaneously folded their arms and spoke.
"Bullshit." the mercenary and the phantom said in perfect unison.
"Alright, alright! You got me! I'll quit fucking around." the young boy giggled with uncontrollable amusement. "...I'm twenty one."
V gazed at his detective friend, his agitation beginning to gnaw at him. "I'm gonna kill this kid."
With his embarrassment too much to endure, River shut the car door with one swift motion, hiding the cheeky child back into the recesses of the darkness. As V continued to project his piercing, judging glare, the detective held his head in his hands. For one typically so steadfast and honourbound, the large and muscular man simply looked defeated now, his shoulders hanging low and his expression mortified.
After a few moments, River wiped the shame off of his face and looked V in the eyes. In turn, the merc spoke up again, posing the same question as before.
"...how old is he?"
"He's…fifteen." River whispered to the mercenary, his voice bereft of energy. "Met him during an old drug-busting case…one of the first cases of my career. He's a techie—used to be a Medtech for the Tyger Claws. Despite how he seems…he really is a genius. He's been altering illegal substances to reduce their fatality rates for a while—the only thing he needs is the right equipment…which I've given him."
"You're selling drugs... with a kid, River." V's voice was flat, still reeling from the shock.
"Yeah." the man's reply was weak, fully aware that he had no proper defence for his actions.
"Are things really that bad?" V asked, his tone softening as he took in the haggard appearance of the once-proud detective.
"Worse." River croaked in a hushed tone, emptiness and despair etched into his expression. "Work as a private detective… it just doesn't pay enough, V. All the bills that kept coming in… just to keep Randy hooked up to those fucking machines and breathing… I just couldn't afford it."
He fell silent, the weight of his confession hanging heavily in the air. All the pride that once radiated from River had drained away, leaving a shell of the man who had once stood tall and strong, towering over his cowardly and corrupt peers. Now, he cowered in self-hatred, his head slumped as though he wanted to bury himself in his thick jacket.
V watched him, feeling a pang of sympathy despite the situation. The detective had been a beacon of integrity in a system of corruption, and seeing him brought so low was a sobering reminder of the wretched city they lived in. Though he had never mentioned it as such, the mercenary held a tremendous amount of respect for the man after the time they had spent together, seeing River as the one and only good badge in a sea of ravenous, selfish hyenas.
From behind the shield of tinted windows, Kaito, sensing the tension, remained unusually quiet in the back seat, his earlier bravado fading away into nothingness as he observed the two men. The boy's sharp eyes flicked between V and River, mature enough to recognise the gravity of the moment and know not to interfere.
River finally spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm not proud of this. I hate what I've become, V. But for Randy... I'd do anything. Even…even this."
V took a deep breath, the reality of the situation properly settling in. Coming to terms with the revelation, the mercenary gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders.
"Well…it is what it is."
River blinked slowly, confusion marked on his face. "But…aren't you…?"
"Aren't I what?"
"Disappointed? Disgusted? Take your pick." the detective suggested hopelessly, clearly expecting to be berated and shunned.
"River, look." V began, his tone softer. "I've seen too much in this city to be shocked anymore. Disappointed? Maybe. But disgusted? Nah. I've seen a shit ton worse than this—and they only did to line their fat fucking pockets with more eddies—you're doing this to save your nephew. Hell…the fact you're so embarrassed by all this…tells me you're still a good guy, River. That's just how it is in this city…don't let it get to you, choom."
River's shoulders slumped further, a mixture of relief and lingering shame on his face, the faint trace of a single tear nearly forming in his eye. "I didn't want you to see me like this, V. I didn't want anyone to."
"I know."
"I kept trying to tell myself it's for Randy—but it was still tearing me apart."
"Yeah…I know."
V took a step closer to the detective and placed a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder. He watched as the despair slowly began to dissipate from River's face. It seemed that more than anything, the man needed someone to confess his new lifestyle to, to gain the freeing sensation of a friend's support. River exhaled deeply, ridding himself of some of the stress and anxiety, just in time for the merc to speak again.
"You know… it ain't a lot better than this, but I actually came here to offer you a gig." V said. "It'd make you a helluva lot more eddies than this… and… it'd save my life."
River quickly raised his head, his eyes widening in surprise. "...what? Your… life?"
As they gazed deeply into each other's eyes, the detective could tell immediately that the mercenary's claim was not merely a ruse. V's expression had become the picture of seriousness, stern and grim as he prepared to offer his proposition. River straightened his brown leather jacket, his posture shifting from defeated to attentive, ready to listen intently to his friend.
"Tell me everything." River urged, his voice finally steady.
