Hello all! Sorry for the long wait since the last update, plus this kinda short-ish chapter as well as it being kinda filler as well XD. As for the delay in writing, well work has kept me pretty busy, along with a whole slew of medical issues that has kept the anxiety kinda high, BUT not to fret, things are on their way back to what I consider normal so all is well!
Anyways, sorry again for the wait and I hope you all enjoy the chapter!
His first day of work starts off slow, the sun hanging high and beaming its hateful rage inducing rays of anti-sleep directly onto Harry's face due to the position of the bed versus the windows. A groan of disappointment makes itself known as he kicks his legs over the side of the bed and into a seated position, yawning and rubbing the traces of his rest from his eyes. He sleepily looks around the room, a feeling that dissipates rapidly as a bit of panic sets in for a moment forgetting where he is. Before it can truly settle his memories of the last couple days play themselves in his mind as if on fast-forward. A new future, or a new world, whichever the case may be he is far from home with zero knowledge as to getting back. On top of this, he has reacted to things in a way more brutal manner than he normally would.
'Something is different...' he thinks to himself, not sure whether he should be freaking out heavier about this or not. After all, even when fighting against the Death Eaters he wouldn't have immediately jumped right into overpowered blasting curses and transfigured impalement as combat openers. 'Then again, the muggles here are more prone to violence than any I've ever seen before.' he contemplates the behaviors of the people during the small gang-war he ran into on his first day followed by phantom pains from his gunshot wound.
Another thing giving him a slight headache is the concept of big corporations more or less owning the world. During his online researching of this world's history, he has come across a great many instances in which large conflicts are perpetrated by some company for one reason or another and entire countries go to war for them, it boggles the mind and even that is drowned out at the sheer level of disinterest in the lives of others. The amount of homeless alone is staggering but it really looks like that if you aren't some corpo elite, a term he sees used frequently on forums and blog sites, then your life means less that the chrome in your body, which is a whole other can of worms he really doesn't want to think about right now. Imagining Moody with any sort of combat implant sends a shiver down his spine, 'Back on topic Harry...' he thinks to himself for letting his mind wander.
'Okay, so something in me must have changed.' he thinks as he stands from the bed and heads towards the bathroom. 'Why did I immediately jump to lethal combat? I mean I gave them a chance to let me pass freely, but even still I normally wouldn't be that brutal about it." The screams of the man he roasted alive coming to mind. 'Maybe it's got something to do with the way I came to be here?' his mind wanders as he turns on and adjusts the temperature of his shower.
'Am I over thinking this?' he ponders as he disrobes and steps under the warm-ish spray of water. 'I mean, the last couple days have been increasingly stressful, what with the waking up in some kind of future after fighting in a civil war against evil snake-hitler and his band of likeminded inbred sheep.' The very idea that anyone could go from one extreme situation right into another even more so without being on edge enough to immediately jump right into survival mode is really putting way more faith in humanity than we deserve. 'Besides, it's not like I could have gotten out of there any other way without backtracking again and possibly getting stuck there longer.' But even that justification feels a bit hollow, it can be easy to forget that he's killed people while not even being old enough to graduate Hogwarts yet. An unfortunate, if no less impressive body count for someone so young, having truly started at the tender age of eleven years old.
He discards the depressing line of thought for now and turns his focus on cleaning himself from the grime of the day prior. Once suitably clean he turns off the shower and dries himself with a towel provided by the hotel. Once finished he heads into the main room and puts on some of his new clothes, deciding to go with the faded Samurai shirt and the new shoes with his jeans. Once clothes he spots his wand sitting on the nightstand which brings him to his next big, possibly life altering decision. 'Should I try harder to hide my magic?' The very idea puts a weight in his stomach that is not at all comfortable, the thought of holding himself back and going full muggle pushes him towards a whole new kind of depression. 'How would I even manage it? It's not like I have any practice using guns in a real fight.' The bit of 'target practice' during his rooftop interrogation session not really counting at all. 'And I doubt Pepe would want to teach the new guy how to shoot.'
The pros and cons swirl around his brain like a torrent of anxiety fueled indecisiveness, which only ends up turning his small headache into a mild throbbing in his temple. 'Fuck it, magic is a part of me and I'll not be locking it away in the metaphorical cupboard under the stairs. I'll just have to try my best to be more sneaky about it, worst case scenario I can always give anyone with more curiosity than sense the good ol' Lockhart treatment.' The mental image of the fraud post his mind wipe bringing a chuckle to his throat. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy." With his decision made, harry holsters his wand for easy reach and begins pocketing his money and the still ever present, if not altered resurrection stone. "Though, I should still probably buy a gun and learn to use it. Just in case." He recalls last night at the vendor stalls that there was at least one selling firearms, perhaps a quick stop after work wouldn't be a bad idea.
With a quick check of the clock and figuring he had a few hours before he needed to be at the bar, Harry decides to head out and experience some Night City during the day and maybe grab some food while he's at it. 'If this shift goes well and I land the job full-time then I should probably send my favorite resident and personal hero a message that I got out alive and found employment.' he thinks to himself as he checks over all the windows in the room to make sure they are secured again before heading out, locking the door and heading down to the lobby. AS he passes by, he notices a different person tending to the front counter.
The individual appears to be in his late forties at most, though it's hard to tell if that's due to actual age or just shoddy maintenance of their cyberware. His hair long but balding at the top with a dirty blond color, his skin looks decently tanned like he spends a majority of his days outside. He sits at the counter in the receptionist's chair so it's hard to tell what clothes he has on but the coat rack behind the counter holds a tan long trench coat. His manner comes off as slightly detached from the rest of the world while hunched over and mumbling to himself quietly as he flips through the pages of a magazine. Harry decides to leave him be, his war honed instincts yelling loud and clear for him to stay away. 'He looks harmless at first glance, just another awkward man living his life, but we know better than anyone else that looks can be deceiving.' Without a second glance Harry leaves the building and steps out into street.
'Wow, it looks way different at night, somehow during the day it feels...less science fiction like?' Harry ponders as he takes in his surroundings. His thought only really feeling half accurate, while the buildings still look very futuristic and dystopian, not quite on the levels of the Walled City of Kowloon he read about once at his local muggle library, but still kind of suffocating in how cramped the buildings feel. "Oh, and let's not forget the most charming feature of the local aesthetic, the damn garbage..." he grumbles out loud, the wonder at his surroundings being soured by the total lack of care anyone around here seems to have in keeping it clean. His mood having absolutely nothing to do with waking up first thing buried in it, no sir.
Retracing his steps from his trip there and back the night prior, Harry takes his time to really memorize his route and the things around him now that there isn't so much blinding neon to deal with. With the warm glow of the midday sun casting down upon them, it's easier for Harry to think of the people passing by as just extra colorful everyday people minding their own business and not half robot people prone to ultra-violence. 'Not that all of them are I'm sure, just enough of them to keep up that constant vigilance.' "I really need to stop thinking so much like Moody, I don't think I can live with that kind of paranoia." he grumbles lowly, not really wanting to give the people around him an excuse to stare at the skinny kid talking to himself.
'Speaking of talking to myself, do I want to really think about the voices I'm hearing lately?' he ponders as he stops at a crosswalk, waiting for his turn to cross the road. 'And why aren't I hearing them right now, I mean I was hearing them plenty during the fight...' the light changes to go and he almost misses it if not for someone behind him bumping into him a bit without so much as a quick apology. 'Does it have something to do with my shift in personality, like maybe whatever happened to alter my fight or flight into fight and finish?' Harry checks his agent again to see the time and notices he has about an hour and a half until he needs to be at the bar, so he decides to shelve the thoughts on his fracturing mental state in order to find some food.
His wanderings bring him to a small building that looks like a typical grab-n-go style fast food service, this one being called 'Buck-a-slice', another restaurant that provides synthetic foods and in this case being some kind of pizzeria. After browsing the menu and deciding against the more exotic sounding toppings he settles for two slices of plain cheese and a Nicola, having liked the taste of the one Pepe gave him the night prior. With his food acquired and with some extra time yet, Harry decides to settle down with his meal at one of the outdoor tables set up near the service desk.
The first bite tells him all he needs to know about the quality of what he has ordered. 'Bland would be giving this slop entirely too much credit.' he thinks with a grimace as he forcefully chews and swallows his first of unfortunately many bites of pizza, the only saving grace of this meal being the drink even if the combination of the bubbly soda coupled with the grease of the sliced garbage made his gut roil in an unpleasant way. 'Still, can't afford to not eat it and waste money, at least until I get a few paychecks under my belt.' he laments silently. With his time running nearer to his deadline he quickly scarfs down the rest of his meal, trying to ignore everything about it and get it over with as fast as possible.
With a final bite and swallow Harry tosses the empty can and pizza containers in the garbage bin before heading back towards the bar at a slightly quicker pace. A decision which ended up being quite smart as during his walk he needed to make a slightly detour around an active crime scene with quite a number of police present keeping any civilians out of the way. He doesn't get much as to the reason for their presence but he picks up a few muttered speakers talking of a cyberpsycho inside the building and questioning why the cops weren't inside taking care of it. More mutterings follow and the word 'Maxtac' being tossed around once or twice before Harry gets far enough away from the crowd to get back to his path.
'Cyberpsycho huh? I remember seeing something about that on the net.' Harry thinks, the reality of cyberpsychosis and the possible reasons for how it happens have surprisingly limited conclusions that are based in reality, the one thing every so called professional can agree of is it has something to do with the installation of cyberware into someone experiencing some kind of trauma and not being able to cope. The result is almost always the subject initiating in a bloodbath as they attack everyone around them, sometimes like wild animals but others times as seasoned professional killers. There are theories that it's possible to bring someone who has 'gone over the edge' back from the brink, but not enough cyberpsychos are captured alive for further testing as it's easier for all involved if they are just put down, whether it be done by local law enforcement or by outside sources. 'Meaning local gangs or even corporate agents I'm sure.' he thinks, almost feeling sorry for them.
He's brought out of this train of thoughts as he comes upon the front of the El Coyote Cojo, it's walls covered in fading graffiti and the only windows being on the top floor. With a breathe Harry makes sure he looks presentable for his new employers and then heads inside.
The inside is about as quiet as it was the night before with only a couple patrons in a couple of the booths off to either side of the bar which only give Harry a brief glance before turning back to their own business. Pepe waves him over the moment he sees him and as Harry gets closer to the bar he is tossed a bundled up apron. "Go ahead and put that on kid, we're gonna go over what you'll be doing tonight and I'll be showing you where everything is." Pepe explains while Harry quickly ties on the apron in a half style leaving his shirt exposed but covering his waist and upper thighs.
What follows is about an hours worth of practice handling the equipment behind the bar and being shown where all the drinks are stored for easy reach, once that was done he was then shown the proper ways to handle large orders of drinks and how to hold them for delivery at the various tables and booths without dropping or spilling anything which was surprisingly easy for him due to his years of seeker training as well as his own reflexes both natural and honed from war, not that Pepe would be aware, he was mostly just impressed the new guy didn't break anything yet.
The night started off pretty slow, with only a few more customers coming in for a drink or some food, of which Pepe mostly took care of making the food orders since they hadn't had time to teach any of them to Harry yet. So while he was busy in back, Harry was told to take care of the bar and to run orders to tables as they came up which was pretty easy to accomplish seeing as they weren't overflowing with patrons yet.
The first complication of the evening came when a small group of already buzzed Valentinos came into the bar to continue their night of getting drunk and doing something dumb or dangerous, 'Probably both.' Harry huffs to himself quietly as four of the group grab a table while one comes up to the bar to order their drinks and upon seeing Harry tending the counter instead of Pepe had them confused. "Hey kid, who the hell are you and where's Pepe?" The man asks, the distrust clearly evident by both his tone and expression since he doesn't recognize the young man.
"He's in the back right now, what can I get you?" Harry asks, doing his best to come off as customer friendly, even if the customer isn't exactly as friendly.
The unfriendly gang member gives a slight glare before jerking his head in the direction of the table his pals sat around. "Five Brosephs and five shots of Centzon, don't fuckin spill anything new guy." he says before heading back to the table to join his crew.
Harry just nods before grabbing five bottles of Broseph Ale and places them on a serving tray along with five empty shot glasses before filling each with a shot of the good quality tequila. He pops the caps off each bottle like he was shown earlier and heads to the table with the tray of alcohol. "Five Brosephs and five shots of Centzon, can I get you all anything else?" Harry asks as he places a bottle and shot before each person at the table.
They wave him off and his night continues in a pretty similar manner, people come in, they eye him distrustfully for being the new guy, they order some drinks, some of them talk shit as if he was born without working ears and others just mind their business like respectable human beings. "Well, as respectful as you'd expect in this crazy city." Harry thinks with no little bit of sarcasm at all as he cleans a glass and watches Pepe serve some customers.
All in all, it was a pretty quiet night as far as working a bar goes, not that he's had much experience in such things aside from his trips to the Three Broomsticks back in Hogsmeade. It wasn't until the nearing end of his shift that Pepe flagged him down for a talk. "Alright kid, you've been here all night, nothing broke, nothing spilled and I've yet to hear any complaints about you that is work related. So as I've been given the go ahead, I've decided you can stay on from here out." the man say with a grin, one which was quickly mirrored by Harry's own. "Now don't let this go to your head or anything, you're going to be held to the same standard every night here on, so don't fuck up too badly and you won't have to worry about anything." Pepe says while grabbing a NiCola for Harry and a Broseph for himself. "Now, tomorrow night your shift will start the same time as tonight, but you'll be meeting with the owner first thing so she can have her own little meet and greet, welcome to the family and all that shit. You treat her with the respect she deserves and you'll be just fine, got me?" He explains between gulps of his brew, to which Harry nods in understanding.
"Alright, go ahead and finish your drink, get cleaned up and I'll have your cut of the tips for tonight before you go."
It's about twenty minutes later that we find Harry on his walk back to the hotel from a night of honest work, his pockets two hundred eddies heavier from the tips alone and the promise of a paycheck on the horizon, things were starting to look up for our wayward wizard. At least they were until his view of the streets, buildings and the sidewalk before his if shoved to a flash of black in a spike of pain and the quick sensation of weightlessness before his body impacts the ground harshly.
His vision swims as he tries to regain his bearings, whatever hit him in the face had done so with a strength he hasn't felt since Draco stunned him on the train and kicked his shit in, before he fully gets his sight back under control, he feels hands grab him up off the ground and drag him off, the direction being completely lost in the moment as he is quickly slammed up against a wall and pinned from the front, one chrome hand on his chest and the other shoving the barrel of some kind of pistol into his focus.
The sight of the firearm pointed at his face brings a clarity only the adrenaline of battle can do and all at once his focus in once more surgical in its precision. With a glance to his surroundings Harry realizes he had been dragged into a side alley, not too far off from the sidewalk, the next thing he picks up are the numbers against him, the first being obvious as the one who hit him if the blood on his shiny knuckles was anything to go by "Great, I'm bleeding again, this has been happening a lot lately" he thinks as his gaze snaps to the only other person in the alley, The man seeming slightly familiar to him before he finally places it. "These are a couple of the guys I served earlier tonight, the ones asking after Pepe..." The two men having obviously decided it was a good plan to ambush the new guy at the bar for some reason.
The one standing off to the side starts yelling at Harry in what he can only assume is Spanish, motioning towards his buddy holding Harry at gunpoint and then towards Harry himself, who can't help but just blink hard once or twice before interrupting what i probably some monologue on why he shouldn't be here or some such nonsense. "Listen mate!" Harry says loudly over the other man, ignoring the look of brief shock that someone might dare speak over him. "If you're going to yell at me, can you at least do it in a language I understand?" The question seemed to only enrage the gangoon further, causing him to keep yelling something or other still in Spanish which begins to irritate Harry a great deal. "Fuck this." he says with a sigh as his wand slides into his waiting hand from it's holster.
With a quick flick at the one holding him, a stunner sends the fool into a quick blissful sleep, the sight of which causes the yelling one to stop and gape for a moment before quickly fumbling for his own firearm, it having stuck against the locking strap of its holster, giving Harry plenty of time to repeat the spell upon him, sending him to the floor quicker than the strongest drug. "Merlin, what the hell is it with this place? Is one week of not being threatened with violence too much to ask? Just one?" he grumbles to himself before searching the unconscious thugs for anything of value and relieving them of their guns, both shrunken down and pocketed for later.
"I don't even want to enjoy the walk back anymore, with my luck I'll run into some other shit too." After pocketing what data shards, money and ammo the two had, Harry turns on his heel and disappears with a loud crack, deciding to apparate back directly to his hotel room instead of dealing with anymore people today. His choice to leave at that moment having likely saved his life as not even a full minute later, the form of a twitching figure enters the alley having been alerted to the noise, the sound of soft mumbling being the only thing to be heard from the figure before it sets it sights on the two sleeping victims on the ground.
A call would go out to the police later in the evening as a random passerby would frantically describe a scene of slaughter right out the worst kind of XBD on the market, two bodies of known Valentino gangoons being filleted and pinned to the walls of the alleyway, their organs torn from their bodies and strewn about the wires crossing above the alley like some kind of sick Christmas decorations, the sign of the same cyberpsycho that eluded Maxtac earlier that very same day.
Heyo! Me again, thanks for reading the chapter, I hope you liked it and I hope you guys are looking forward to the next one where we get to meet good ol Mama Welles as well as Harry's first run in with a cyberpsycho that just might result in him meeting some other story important people, who knows!
Anywho, love all ya faces and I'll catch you in the next one, bye-bye!