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Authors Note: This is my first attempt at a story. All feedback is welcome and will be considered.
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Chapter 1: Open Your World
Tuesday, March 16th. The city hums with static, alive with a heartbeat of neon and steel. Even in the dead of night, the streets are flooded with light and noise by advertisements. Promising everything you could ever need, for a price. The rain falls in a constant drizzle, washing the grime down into the gutters, but it never cleans anything. It just spreads the filth around.
They say in this city, you have two choices: the quiet life or a blaze of glory. I'm not sure which of those lives is right for me. The more I think about it, the more I start to believe that choice was made for me a long time ago. I can't change who I am, but I'm here for a reason. I move through the streets, amongst the crowds of people. The sound of chatter is drowned out by the distant rumble of an AV overhead. Two years in this city has made me more than the man I used to be. I've become one of them, hardened, and willing to do whatever it takes to stay afloat.
The city doesn't sleep. It festers. Every corner is a breeding ground for something rotten, something waiting to tear at the seams. But that's where I live. In the cracks. In the darkness between the flickering lights. The corporations think they own this place, that they can control it with an endless supply of eddies, and a collection of owed favors. But they don't know what's coming. They don't see the inevitable change that will shake the foundations of Night City.
I do.
Tonight, I have a job to do. A text message appears before my eyes, barely any information to go off of, just a name. But it's enough. It's always enough. I know where to go, who to find. The city is a labyrinth, but I've memorized every twist, every dead end. I know where the predators hide, and I know how to hunt them.
The rain starts coming down harder. The street is quieter now, the crowds have dissipated. I pull my coat tighter around me, the fabric woven with tech to keep out the wet and the cold. I stop at the edge of the block, looking out at the street. It's busy, even at this hour. People lost in the glow of their devices, chasing some digital dream that'll never be real. They don't see me. They never do. I'm just another one of them, another poor sucker living in this cesspool.
But I see them. I see everything.
An interconnected web of devices, optics, cyberdecks, cameras, servers. Secrets and lies floating in a cloud of data. I just reach out, pluck it from the sky, and it's mine. Everything I need to thrive is right here.
It doesn't take long for my target to show himself. I know his routine, he visits a local bar down the street. Four times a week, always on the same days. He takes the same route home, surrounded by the same friends. Do they know who he really is? Do they know his secrets? Do they know what he's done? The cheerful sound of friends drunkenly making their way home is interrupted by the sound of pained grunting and sparking cyberware. Of shouted curses and the panicked shuffle of fleeing feet.
I watch from the shadows as his friends abandon him. Loyalty is a luxury in this city, and none of them can afford it. The man staggers, his movements erratic, his cybernetics glitching from the sudden surge through his neural interface. He claws at his neck, trying in vain to save himself from the high voltage shocks tearing through his nervous system like wildfire. He doesn't stand a chance. The light fades from his eyes as he slumps to the ground, lifeless.
My eyes scan the area, picking up on the faint whir of a security drone hovering nearby. It's distant, out of range for now, but I know it'll be here soon. It doesn't matter. By the time it arrives, I'll be gone, just another poor soul wandering the streets. I turn and walk away, leaving the body behind to be discovered by the next unlucky soul who happens to pass by. The city will move on, just as it always does.
As I move through the streets, the rain begins to let up, leaving the city slick and gleaming under the neon glow. I keep my head down, blending into the crowd once more. The streets are alive with movement.
I make my way to a nearby maglev station, the high-speed train system that snakes through the city like a metallic serpent. The platform is crowded, as always, a sea of faces illuminated by the harsh white light of the overhead fixtures. I slip through the crowd, finding a secluded spot near the back. The train arrives with a rush of wind, and I step inside, the doors hissing shut behind me.
The ride is smooth, the city's lights a blur outside the window as we speed through the urban landscape. I keep my eyes on the reflections in the glass, watching for any sign of pursuit. But there's nothing. No one is following me. Not yet, anyway.
A single thought initiates a call to my employer. Exactly two rings later, she answers, "Ah, Mr Quinn. I thought I would be hearing from you soon. Pleasant evening?"
"As well as can be expected. The job's done."
"Excellent. Your payment will be arriving shortly." The call ends quickly. The Lady of Westbrook is nothing if not efficient.
The train glides to a halt at the Watson district station. I step off and merge with the trickle of passengers spilling into the rain-slicked streets. The electric pulse of neon signs lights the way, casting vivid reflections on the wet pavement. The buildings rise up around me, towering monoliths etched with digital ads and grime. Each edifice seems to breathe with the life of the city, its neon veins pulsing like a living organism. My apartment is a few blocks away, nestled in a crumbling high-rise that has seen better days. The building's facade is a tapestry of rust and neglect, but it's my sanctuary—a place where the chaos of the city can be shut out, if only for a moment.
As I approach the entrance, I take a moment to scan the area. There's nothing out of place, just the usual crowd of late-night wanderers and the occasional security drone patrolling the vicinity. My paranoia is almost a second skin, a constant companion that keeps me alert. I slip inside, the cool air of the building lobby offering a brief respite from the suffocating rain outside. The grime on the floors and flickering lights are almost comforting in their familiarity.
The elevator ride up is silent but for the faint hum of machinery. I step out into the dimly lit hallway, my apartment door only a few paces away. The door slides open with a soft hiss, and I'm greeted by the familiar scent of stale air and artificial cleaner. I enter, and the door shuts behind me with a gentle thud, sealing me off from the outside world. I lean against the wall for a moment, allowing the weight of the day to settle on my shoulders.
I make my way to the small, cluttered living area, tossing my coat onto a chair. The place is as orderly as I can manage given its size—every item in its place, every surface wiped down. It's a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a carefully controlled environment in a city that thrives on disorder.
I sit at the edge of the bed, peeling off my boots with slow, deliberate movements. The constant hum of the city is a distant murmur through the walls, a reminder of the world I've left behind for the moment. I stretch out on the bed, the mattress offering just enough comfort to help me drift away.
The soft glow of the city outside filters through the window blinds, casting a muted light across the room. My mind races through the day's events, replaying every moment with meticulous detail. The job is done, but the echoes of it linger in my thoughts. The man I hunted is now just another ghost in the city's dark corners, his secrets buried with him. By all means, the city has already forgotten him.
As exhaustion pulls at me, I close my eyes. The sound of the rain against the window, the distant hum of the city, the occasional electronic blip from a stray broadcast—all these sounds merge into a lullaby of sorts. Sleep comes slowly, but it does come, wrapping me in its dark embrace as I slip into the void.