FOURTH_TIMER: 3%
[IMAGE OF A HAND REACHING OUT TO THE SUN DISPLAYED]
CURRENT_STATUS: "I See Your Eyes"
ENTRY_DATA:
Never make a deal with the devil…isn't that what some gonks say?
With an entirely new possibility for your fate hanging over the horizon, you've chosen to take a plunge into the deep end of a new job, presented by a man you swear you've seen before. But where? Had it been somewhere in this sprawling city? Somewhere hidden in the crowds?
Doesn't matter, you've already decided to dive in headfirst. Just pray that once this is all over, you'll still be able to surface…
"A…bird?" V parroted the enigmatic man's words.
The mercenary was already beyond perplexed. Whatever he was expecting his client to be, it was not this. The blue-eyed man was as lax as one could be, the gleam in his eyes failing to betray even a glimpse of worry, and his posture made him seem like he was already at home in the Afterlife. His legs were crossed, his arms were folded, and his head was tilted slightly to one side as he observed V with an obvious fascination.
"I'm guessing you're trying to talk in riddles or codes…" V sighed as he took a seat opposite from the client. "Not really in the mood for any of that. Let's just talk biz. First things first, who are you?"
"Ah, yes, straight biz. A man after my own heart." the man commented with an elated smile. "I'm not at liberty to give out my real name, confidentiality and all that nonsense…but…'Mr. Blue Eyes' works just fine."
A strange nickname, but V had certainly heard stranger in the winding streets of Night City. It was an apt and fitting name as well, all things considered.
"Okay, Mr. B…" V spoke unnaturally, attempting to shorten the name. "Next thing I wanna ask is how you know my name."
The grin on Mr. Blue Eyes' face grew ever wider in amusement. The very act of conversing with the mercenary appeared to delight him like nothing else.
"Come now, if some throwaway doll holed up in Clouds can tell you what your real name is, do you really think that we can't?" he answered happily.
With every passing remark, V became more and more concerned and agitated by how much the smartly dressed man knew.
Clouds had been Megabuilding H8's dollhouse, where he had first visited to find the late Evelynn Parker, and later as well…to help his friend, Judy Álvarez. A dollhouse that, despite V's best efforts to liberate and make into a better place, ultimately fell into disarray when all of the smoke finally cleared.
But how did this man know anything about the merc's visit to that dollhouse?
V powered through his frustration and spoke through gritted teeth. "Who's we?"
At last, the man's confident smile wavered slightly, his demeanour subtly shifting. He appeared to retract, attempting to backtrack on his previous choice of words.
"Well, I say we…" Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled. "...but I'm more of a representative. Nah, honestly, I'm hardly even that. I'm just a middle man, a talking mouthpiece for them, a nobody, if you will. Tell me, Vincent…what do you know of-"
"Don't." V snapped, his patience wearing thin as he locked eyes with the man. "You don't get to call me that. Only people who know me, really know me, get to use my real name. We clear?"
Without missing a beat, Mr. Blue Eyes offered a swift bow to the unquestionably frustrated mercenary.
"Ah, I didn't know that it was such a sticking point for you. Sorry about that, V." he replied courteously, his response immediate and respectful. "I don't mean to start off on the wrong foot with someone of your…calibre."
Shaking his head dismissively, V urged the man to proceed. "Go on."
"Where was I…? Oh, right, tell me…what do you know of the Night Corporation?" Mr. Blue Eyes continued, posing a question.
Caught off guard by the unexpected query, V hesitated before answering. "Only a little, I guess. They take care of the city. Started by that…Richard Night guy."
Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled softly under his breath at the merc's genuine but rudimentary and crude description.
"I guess that's not untrue." he happily conceded.
"Sorry, choom." V shrugged with an unapologetically blasé attitude. "You guys ain't really been on my radar."
"But you've definitely been on ours, V." the relaxed corpo promptly fired back. "Your rise from the streets of Heywood to the big leagues, your…unfortunate fall from grace, we've seen it all. We know what you are. Like I said…we're a big fan."
Once again the amused man was actively flaunting to V just how much information he had already collected, much to the mercenary's annoyance, but V did not buckle under the pressure, and he adamantly refused to be impressed. The merc had grown accustomed to the inner workings of word games long ago, it did not take him much time to realise that the overly confident client had spoken much, yet revealed hardly anything.
"So you're with Night Corp and you know me. Good for you." V responded, his voice taut with irritation. "Stick to the important detes. You say you got a cure for me. I call bullshit."
The confident smile on Mr. Blue Eyes' face faltered entirely, giving way to a more curious expression. A single furrowed eyebrow arched inquisitively over his pale complexion.
"Is it really so hard to believe? I didn't think you'd dismiss the idea so easily." he remarked.
"Wanna prove me wrong, then? Spill." V retorted, his tone unwavering and insistent.
Unbeknownst to Mr. Blue Eyes, the phantom rockerboy faded into V's vision, sitting on the plush couch right beside the client, his feet kicked up on the table in front and his head nodding approvingly.
"That's it, V. Hang him up by the balls. Don't let him get you off track." Johnny instructed the mercenary, staring intently at the bothersome corpo.
"I managed to speak to our client here while we waited for you, and you're halfway right, V. They don't have a cure themselves." Rogue finally spoke up, having remained noticeably quiet since the mercenary had arrived, more inclined to watch the conversation unfold before her. "But they know what can."
"More specifically, who can. Here." Mr. Blue Eyes finished, eagerly leaning forward with an outstretched hand for the merc, a small shard of information nestled into his palm. "Detes attached."
V watched Rogue closely as he reached out for the shard, and only took it when she nodded to him. A silent conveyance to not be concerned. Slotting the small shard into the implant around the base of his neck, a digital interface with an active display of images and demonstrative videos were immediately fed to the mercenary's Kiroshi optics as he listened to the client.
"As I was saying, V, you've been on our radar for a while. At first, it was honestly out of concern. We've had a share of big names come and go in this city, legends even, but…no one quite like you. A man who's already achieved so much…in so little time. To be honest, you're unnatural. Maybe it's because you're a dying man, with nothing to lose but everything to gain. Or maybe you're just cut from finer cloth than the rest of us. Either way, our people eventually reached an…epiphany. You don't have to be a threat, we can help each other. Not for hit contracts or data retrievals, no, no…something much better, bigger. And, well, that's when Songbird contacted us."
V observed Mr. Blue Eyes closely as the enigmatic man had stood up from the couch during his explanation, pacing energetically back and forth.
"Songbird. The bird…" the mercenary whispered softly, struck by realisation.
Mr. Blue Eyes quickly responded. "Real name…Song So Mi. Songbird is Kang Tao's codename for her."
The virtual display expanded, an army of pixels coalescing to create a holographic image of a woman through V's optics.
She stood at a moderate height, sporting short magenta-dyed hair and light brown eyes accentuated by red eyeshadow. The telltale marks of cyberware were visible on her face, and she wore a grey denim jacket adorned with two miniature belts on the left sleeve—a handy tool belt for her cyberdeck—and untied high-top sneakers.
The mercenary was surprised by the level of detail, but the virtual hologram was still just a simulation—an imitation. As expected, the woman shown appeared devoid of life, her eyes cold, frozen, emotionless.
"Songbird…is like you, I guess." Mr. Blue Eyes began to elaborate, sitting back down on the couch and crossing his legs. "By that I mean…she's unique. Abnormal. What you're looking at, V, is perhaps the best netrunner there is—or has ever been. Born and raised in United Korea, she arrived in our…humble little city when she was the age of thirteen thanks to a scholarship offer from Arasaka Academy, all by her lonesome too—but she never looked back. Graduated just three years later, acing every last exam there was. In case you're wondering, yes, that is a new record."
"That's, uh, really…young." V commented weakly, still processing the information he was being fed.
"Yes." the eager man said with a deep, low chuckle. "After that, she worked extensively for Arasaka, as well as going on a few netrunning ventures of her own—such the invasion of Militech's most secure datafort. Stack ten other seasoned netrunners to try something that stupid, and I guarantee they'd all have their brains fried to crisp. But Songbird…she eats dataforts for breakfast, V. She'd give even the fabled Alt Cunningham a run for her money."
"Bull…shit." Johnny spat in the side of Mr. Blue Eyes' head, his temper flaring dangerously as he clearly wished the corporate man could have seen or heard him. The rockerboy kicked his feet off the table, leapt out of the couch, and pointed a virtual cigarette directly at V. "Nobody's better than Alt, V. Nobody."
V watched Johnny's sudden outburst but remained focused on speaking with the client. "So, she's one of Arasaka's best?"
"She was." Mr. Blue Eyes answered cryptically.
"...was? What happened?"
Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled once more, entirely incapable of concealing his amusement. "You. You happened, V."
"Huh?"
"Konpeki Plaza." the man whispered.
V felt a familiar tinge of pain in his stomach. Of course it was regarding Konpeki Plaza. Everything always returned to Konpeki Plaza. The job that had comprehensively ruined everything. Just the name of the plaza alone was sufficient enough to bring the mercenary's blood to a freezing point, a stifling reminder of what had taken away his closest choom and signed his death warrant.
"Arasaka's precious prototype was never meant to be at Konpeki Plaza or in Yorinobu's possession. He stole it, essentially, from his daddy dearest." Mr. Blue Eyes spoke further. "And I'm sure you've always wondered why—just why—did the Emperor himself have to arrive at that place, on that day? Well, I can tell you that. Songbird tipped him off."
V's thoughts coiled and twisted internally in his mind. Beyond difficult was it for him to decide whether the idea that the mysterious and previously unheard of netrunner had a direct line to Saburo Arasaka himself, or that the even more mysterious client before him somehow managed to acquire such information, was more unbelievable and ludicrous. It was even more frustrating to already know that the man would never reveal how he knew all of this; it was abundantly clear that he adored his air of mystery and wanted to retain it.
"How'd she know that Yorinobu took the Relic?" the merc decided to ask instead.
"She's the director of the prototype Relic, V. She was at the very forefront of the Secure Your Soul development project." Mr. Blue Eyes responded slowly.
"Wha-? She's…she's the fucking director?" V blurted out with widened eyes, while Johnny unconsciously dropped his illusory cigarette, being caught just as much off guard. "Christ, why didn't you lead with that?!"
"Oh? That certainly got you excited." the client commented in delight.
"So, she really did it? She made the fucking bomb in my head?"
Mr. Blue Eyes nodded in affirmation and repeated himself. "Lead bioengineer, netrunner, and director."
The mercenary was stunned. Despite his relentless pursuit of any expert who truly grasped the intricacies of the advanced and experimental technology embedded in the biochip, he'd always come up empty. Hanako Arasaka had kept her secrets closely guarded, and every lead on the creators of the Relic had always led to dead ends.
Turning to look at Johnny, V found him already gazing intently back, his shades removed, his face etched with a serious and resolute expression. Silently, V communicated with his digital companion, intuitively understanding the thoughts behind Johnny's scowl.
You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?
"Yeah." Johnny's response seeped through V's mind, perfectly aligning with his own sentiments. "Fuck that porcelain bitch and her offer. We'll go straight to the source—straight to the one that made the damn thing."
But do you trust this guy?
"Not as far as I can throw him." Johnny responded again. "In case you haven't noticed, he still hasn't said what the job even is."
V spoke up out loud once more, knowing that the rockerboy was right. "You know…you still haven't told me what the gig is, Mr. B. That ain't usual for a client."
"That's because we're not your usual client, V." Mr. Blue Eyes retorted without skipping a beat. "The so-called gig is to retrieve Songbird. After Yorinobu caught wind of who warned his father about the Relic's theft, Songbird chose to defect to Kang Tao—for both protection and new work. Recently, we reached out to her in…closed channels. She's hired us to get her out of there—and that's where you come in. She's acquainted with the high success rate of your work and asked for you, specifically. We'll just be assisting you. In a way…we're more of the fixer than the client."
"If Arasaka's hunting her, she's a hell of a lot more safe with them than with us." V commented quietly, still struggling to understand.
"Well, obviously." Mr. Blue Eyes chirped. "But protection's not what she's looking for anymore—and to find what she is looking for now, she needs to get out. Do that for her…and she's promised to fix you. We'lloffer the same promise."
The plush couch groaned softly under V's weight as he leaned in. "Meaning?"
"Her expertise…and our money. Our coinpurse will be open to you, V, and it's heavy." Mr. Blue Eyes boasted gleefully. "Whatever it takes to save your life—that is our promise."
"Uh-huh, nice of you." the mercenary grumbled, leaning right back into his seat. "But I'm here 'cause you told Rogue you had a cure. That ain't sounding like a cure."
"You're doubting what Songbird can do?"
"Didn't even know she existed 'til right now." V answered.
Mr. Blue Eyes was undeterred, however. Evident by the look on his face, he had already anticipated V's scepticism. He reached into his sleek, expensive suit, retrieving something from his breast pocket—a metallic shard wholly unlike the previous one. The shard was darker in colour, jagged, larger in size, and prominently bore the name 'MILITECH' on one side.
With caution, V watched as Mr. Blue Eyes extended the Militech shard towards him.
"Don't worry, we didn't forget to cover all bases. I insisted that Songbird provide something upfront if she wanted to enlist your services. Eventually, we had this delivered to us." Mr. Blue Eyes explained. "Consider this... a down payment on your life."
V took the shard from Mr. Blue Eyes' fingers and slipped it into his own, staring at its strange shape and its Militech logo. Before he could voice any questions about its purpose, Mr. Blue Eyes reassured him.
"Relax, V." he said. "If I wanted to give you a spiked chip, it would have been the first one. Trust me, you're going to love what's on this."
With a resigned sigh, V inserted the new shard into the port at the base of his neck. For several moments, nothing happened. The mercenary looked inquisitively at Mr. Blue Eyes and Johnny alike, completely unsure of what was supposed to happen.
That was when everything went dark.
[INITIATING INSTALLATION PROTOCOL: NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 (S.N. 8W7F1-1A111-21TRG)
[VERIFICATION PHASE: Accessing User Identity and Authorization]
- Initiating secure biometric scan...
- User identity not found…
- User identity override initiating…
- Authorization level: Administrator
- Security clearance verified: Militech Corporation
[DETECTING BIOCHIP INTERFACE: Scanning for Compatible Neurological Implants]
- Initiating biochip interface scan…
- Detected biochip: Unknown model
- Biochip identification failed…
- Warning: Incompatible biochip detected - Unknown protocol and specifications
[BYPASSING BIOCHIP INTERFACE: Establishing Secure Connection]
- Initiating secure bypass protocol...
- Establishing encrypted connection to biochip interface...
- Implementing compatibility layer...
[SYNCING BIOCHIP: Establishing Data Link and Synchronisation]
- Initializing data link synchronisation...
- Sending synchronisation requests...
- Establishing neural interface communication channel…
- Biochip connected: Mapping neural pathways and interface parameters…
[DATA INTEGRITY CHECK: Validating Program Files and Dependencies]
- Verifying NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 program files...
- Checking for required dependencies and compatibility...
- Validating cryptographic signatures and digital certificates...
[FILE EXTRACTION: Extracting NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 Program Files]
- Extracting main program executable…
- Decompressing auxiliary libraries and modules...
- Unpacking data and resource files:
[MODULE INSTALLATION: Installing Adaptive Neural Buffering Feature]
- Installing core module…
- Configuring neural network algorithms and parameters...
- Implementing real-time monitoring and dynamic adaptation mechanisms...
- Integrating feedback loop control and emergency override protocols...
[MODULE INSTALLATION: Installing Overclock]
- Installing core module…
- Configuring Neural Acceleration Mode and combat enhancement algorithms...
- Implementing energy boost and adrenaline surge functionalities...
- Enabling mode activation and safety monitoring protocols...
[FINALIZATION PHASE: Completing Installation and Initialization]
- Finalising NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 installation...
- Running post-installation integrity checks and system tests...
- Initializing NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0: Startup sequence initiated...
[INSTALLATION SUCCESSFUL: NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 Installation Completed]
- Installation completed successfully: NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0
- System reboot required: Initiating automatic reboot sequence…
- Rebooting system: NeuroGuard Adaptive v1.0 activation upon system restart…
With a gasp, V woke up with Rogue's reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Wha…what the fuck?!" he cried out, slightly delirious from what he experienced. "You trying to flatline me?!"
Rogue gripped his shoulder firmly and whispered. "Calm down, V. You just closed your eyes for five seconds, you're fine."
The mercenary pulled back from Rogue's grip and rubbed his eyes with his palms, slowly breathing in and out until his heart rate slowed back down. Recovering from his delirium, V began to recall the installation entry messages he had seen as he had faded into half-consciousness, several messages pertaining to a program that he had never heard of.
Speaking in a hushed and lowered tone of voice, V glared at Mr. Blue Eyes. "What the hell did I just install?"
As ever, Mr. Blue Eyes displayed not a shred of concern or doubt even as the mercenary growled at him.
"A little gift from Songbird…and one of many souvenirs from her little escapade into that Militech datafort." the enigmatic man spoke. "Congratulations, V. You're no longer dying as fast as you should be."
"Woah, what?!" V reeled back from the abrupt revelation. "Explain what just happened, exactly!"
Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled, clearly relishing in V's reactions at every turn. He straightened his black suit and adjusted his cuffs, his glowing blue eyes locked intently on the mercenary as he prepared to explain.
"You've just installed one of Militech's programs, still in its infancy and not available on any market. I won't pretend like I fully understand it, but from what Songbird passed on to us…this prototype was designed to provide military operatives with advanced neural protection and adaptive buffering, allowing them to maintain their cognitive and motor function even under…extreme conditions."
"Neural protection…" V whispered.
"That's right, V. This isn't your typical kind of protection either—this is cutting-edge, experimental tech, which I'm sure you're accustomed to by now." Mr. Blue Eyes said eagerly. "The NeuroGuard program was never designed with Arasaka's biochip in mind…but it should still work. Its primary function should create a protective buffer around your affected brain regions, reducing the Relic's damage to your neural functions…and even slowing down cellular degradation."
"Should…" Johnny repeated the man's words, taking a spot to stand next to V with a disapproving look plastered on his face.
"Songbird has spruced up the program with her own little magic touch, as well." Mr. Blue Eyes continued talking. "She's tailored it to your…unique neural architecture. The network algorithms she's written will monitor your neural activity, adapting the program's protective buffering parameters dynamically in real-time. For Militech's military personnel, it's supposed to help reduce their stress, block out psychological trauma, and counter hacks from outside forces…for you though…we believe it's bought you some more time."
V's entire body relaxed and loosened, his breathing steadying to a calm rhythm. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, a heavy, suffocating weight was lifted from his chest, replaced by a warm, soothing wave of relief. He gently touched the base of his neck with his right hand, letting out a nervous chuckle as he struggled to articulate his emotions.
"Uh…how much time did she just buy me?"
Mr. Blue Eyes shook his head, responding with honesty and sincerity. "Weeks? Months? Years? I have absolutely no idea, V. She didn't have the luxury of talking to us for very long, all the info she could dish out were the essentials. You'll be free to ask her about NeuroGuard to your heart's content soon enough though, I expect…and she's made sure that you won't expire until then."
"Wow…" V uttered with half of a grin. "This Songbird don't fuck around, huh…?"
"No, she doesn't." Mr. Blue Eyes chuckled back at the mercenary. "Just remember—NeuroGuard is a temporary solution…at best. You may not be dying as fast as before, you may not suffer from the Relic's malfunctions as often, but…you're still dying. She wanted me to stress to you that she can only prep a real cure with a more hands-on approach, and she can only do that if…"
"...if I nab her from Kang Tao." V quickly finished the man's sentence.
"I'm glad you're so quick on the uptake."
"Uh-huh, preem. But how do you benefit from all this? I don't see it."
Mr. Blue Eyes threw on a scowl as he responded, as if he was reprimanding the mercenary's inquiry. "Have you not been listening to me? How could we not benefit from this? Songbird's been in bed with both Arasaka and Kang Tao alike; combine that with her other netrunning mischiefs, and she has a veritable library of dirty little secrets on every megacorporation in this city, V."
"Hm." V hummed upon hearing the off-puttingly familiar corporate talk and ideology. "Lemme guess…if you help her, they'll be your dirty little secrets."
"It'll be a gold mine." Mr. Blue Eyes confirmed excitedly.
The mercenary was unfazed by the typical sleaziness of a suit. "Fine, I can work with that. Just tell me how we're hitting Kang Tao."
Rogue interjected again, pushing a stray strand of grey hair from her face as she fixed her gaze on V, her voice assertively slicing through the conversation.
"We'll discuss that in detail later, you and I." she declared. "Our client already briefed me on a preliminary plan. It's rough around the edges and risky as all hell, but…it's better than a gonk attack on their headquarters, at least."
"Think we can make it work?" V questioned.
Rogue slowly tilted her head from side to side, her expression thoughtful. It was clear she was already fine-tuning and enhancing the plan in her mind, on the verge of sharing a significantly improved one.
"We'll make it work." she eventually answered.
"That's right, you'll hash out the details on your own. Our people mostly wanted me here for another reason." Mr. Blue Eyes commented.
The mercenary returned his focus back to the man. "...and what's that?"
Mr. Blue Eyes tapped his foot against the floor with deliberate slowness, tilting his head back slightly before speaking. His blue eyes appeared to shimmer faintly, then grow brighter, scrutinising the mercenary intently, as if studying every fibre of him under a microscope.
"To measure you up." he said at last, his voice tinged with anticipation. "We have to know that we're working with the right people, and nothing beats meeting that person face-to-face, wouldn't you say?"
"Uh, sure." V agreed, motioning his hand toward himself. "So, whaddaya think? Am I up to snuff?"
Confidence surged through the mercenary as he posed the question, almost certain of the response. Since he had first taken his iron and stepped into the dizzying world of merc work, rejection had been exceedingly rare. With every gig, he delivered precisely what was promised, seldom falling short—as long as the compensation was worth it. His track record had cemented his reputation as an edgerunner anyone could rely on, moulding his physique to match.
His body was a testament to that commitment, boasting an array of military-grade cyberware. From the Apogee Sandevistan and Gorilla Arms to over a dozen other advanced implants spanning from his frontal cortex all the way down to his toes, he had been transformed by his ripperdoc into a nearly bulletproof, armoured juggernaut.
Silence stretched between them, Mr. Blue Eyes lost in a deep, resonant hum of thought. When he finally broke his contemplative silence, his response was the last thing V had expected.
"No." he murmured, his tone grave.
V blinked, staring at the man in disbelief. "Huh? No? After all that, you don't want me on this?"
"Oh, no, no. Please don't get me wrong, V. We want you on this—one hundred percent." Mr. Blue Eyes apologetically. "But not you alone. Trying to handle something like this solo just isn't going to fly. We have a pretty rare opportunity to intercept Songbird in transit…there's no telling when such a chance will show itself again—if ever. That's why our people want all hands on deck with this one, including yours…and those who would risk even their lives to help you succeed."
As the weight of Mr. Blue Eyes' words sank in, V lowered his gaze to the floor, muttering softly. "You're talking about a crew."
"Indeed I am." Mr. Blue Eyes declared, rising abruptly from the couch. With a swift motion, he buttoned up his suit, fixing his stare downwards at V. "And that's one aspect of the deal that's non-negotiable, I'm afraid. Oh, and of course, you're not to mention any affiliation between the Night Corporation and this job to any of them. Deal's off if you do—and believe us…we'll know."
"I don't need a crew." V hissed, his voice seeping with venom.
Despite the assertiveness of his reply, V felt a twinge of surprise at his own reaction. He wasn't so arrogant as to think he could handle everything alone, yet the notion of potentially sharing a gig with other mercenaries went against his very instincts. He was alone. He had almost always been alone, taking on every job that came his way as a solo. relying on no one but himself.
The last mercenary he had worked alongside and trusted with his life was Jackie. He was dead now.
"Everyone has their limits, V. Even someone as remarkable as you…" Mr. Blue Eyes lectured him firmly. "Find the right people—and fast. Call in whatever favours you can…and if they need an extra incentive, ask them how many eddies it'll take for them to pick a fight with Kang Tao. Whatever price they name, we'll double it."
"Double, huh? Pretty fucking confident of you." V remarked, accompanying it with a groan.
"Triple it—even. Just make sure it happens, alright?" the client adamantly insisted before switching his gaze over to the patient woman to his left. "The legendary Rogue is already on board to join you, and I'm sure she can find just the right folks for the job. You're in good hands, V…this is all going to work out great. Until then, however…I'll leave you two to figure things out. We'll talk again on the holo, soon."
As the man in the sleek suit started to turn around and slowly walk away, poised to melt into the club's bustling crowd of belligerent drunks and seasoned killers, V's voice cut through the noise.
"Hey, how are we gonna do that? You didn't give me any contact info!" V shouted, his annoyance evident.
Mr. Blue Eyes paused, bothering to tilt his head—though not his whole body—just enough to cast a final glance at V over his shoulder, showing a lone eye glimmering with a piercing blue light, seeing the mercenary for everything that he was. Despite the ambience of the crowd, his soft-spoken words still managed to reach V clearly and discernibly.
"Oh, don't worry…V. We've got your number."
As yet another hour disappeared over the horizon, another hefty helping of hooch ran down V's gullet.
The sun had finally set over the city, and the club had only grown more crowded as countless more hardened criminals crawled out of the woodworks and made their way to the Afterlife. V was hunched over by the main bar, shifting around restlessly in his stool and effortlessly knocking back every drink that Claire gave him, numbing his senses and drowning out the babbling and chatter emanating from every direction.
"Huh, sounds like a helluva gig. Must have a pretty big payout too…so why do you look so down, V?" Claire questioned the intoxicated mercenary, leaning over the counter to retrieve his empty shot glass.
V had partially shared the information he knew regarding the new job, a candid admission to himself that he needed someone to talk intimately to; it was unlikely that speaking primarily to a dead rockerboy day-in and day-out was at all healthy for his psyche.
Rogue had given him a thorough rundown of the gig and all of the surrounding circumstances the moment that their client, Mr. Blue Eyes, had vanished from sight. The explanation—and the entire conversation they had for that matter—had been undeniably awkward, however. Not enough time had yet passed since Johnny's date with Rogue down at the Silver Pixel Cloud drive-in theatre, in which V had reluctantly surrendered his body to Johnny and remained mostly unconscious throughout. From what the rockerboy described to V afterwards—the long awaited date had gone horribly awry, and things had not quite been the same ever since.
Which made Rogue's announcement to finally join V on one of his gigs even more of a shock.
According to Rogue, an opportunity for the gig presented itself after an apartment in the Corpo Plaza, occupied by Kang Tao officials, had been attacked by unidentified assailants only a week prior. The situation, likely instigated by assassins-for-hire from Arasaka, had prompted Kang Tao to transport their most prized asset out of Night City entirely—that being Songbird.
The megacorporation had arranged to extract her from the city borders via an AV escort in three days' time, passing over the great expanse of the Southern Desert, specifically the Jackson Plains. Rogue and Mr. Blue Eyes had apparently both concurred that the most opportune moment to retrieve Songbird would be over those Plains, hijacking the lone AV mid-flight. It would skirt just right outside Night City airspace, narrowly avoiding the watchful eyes of both Kang Tao and the NCPD—a dead zone. If they tried to hijack any earlier, hellfire would rain down upon them from every direction, and if they allowed it to travel past the Jackson Plains, they would likely never catch up to it. That was all of the information Rogue provided before she left the Afterlife in a hurry, supposedly for preparations.
All things considered, the gig did not seem too messy or difficult. V had certainly taken part in far more risky ventures—and he even knew contacts out in the Badlands that could help, such as Panam Palmer or Dakota Smith.
V had met Panam purely by happenstance, but the two had gotten along together swimmingly, their coincidental meeting proving to be a stroke of good fortune. By this point, he considered her a good friend, and taking into account how much he had done for her, Saul, and the rest of the Aldecaldos, he hoped that they saw him in a similar light. At the very least, V imagined that if he were to call in a favour, they would not turn him away.
But therein lied the issue.
"Like I said, client's making demands—I gotta put a whole crew together…or deal's off." V finally answered the curious bartender.
Claire shrugged haphazardly, failing to understand the issue. "So? I'm sure there are plenty of folks who'd love sharing a gig with you."
"Last time I shared a gig with someone…" V whispered, his head hanging low and his eyes staring lifelessly at the bar's counter. "...it didn't go so well."
Claire's eyes widened and lit up with realisation, followed by an eventual sigh. With one hand, she carefully reached below the counter and brought a fresh new bottle of scotch into view, then slowly poured into a clean shot glass for the mercenary and pushed it across the counter, into V's grasp.
"Jackie Welles, right?" Claire whispered back.
"Yeah…"
The bartender rocked back and forth in place, struggling to speak bluntly, knowing that it was what the merc needed. "I know it must be hard, V. But…you've gotta learn to trust again. You never know out there. Someone watching your back could be the only thing between you and getting zero'd when you're least expecting it."
"Mhm…"
V could not muster the energy to even pretend to be convinced, instead opting to grab the generously offered glass and take another shot, openly grimacing as the heavy liquor crawled down his throat.
The mercenary gazed around, observing the many walks of life in the club, dozens upon dozens of other mercenaries occupied with their lively conversations and their bottomless bottles of beer and other alcoholics, each likely a regular to the Afterlife yet completely unfamiliar to V. Men and women alike had belts strapped with iron, an entire array of hairstyles with bright, coloured dyes, personalised streetwear outfits, and varying degrees of chrome surfacing over their skin. Their faces, however, were blurred and murky, nearly indiscernible. V could not tell if that was due to his intoxication, or if it was his apathy for any fellow professionals.
Pixels crackled and coalesced until they moulded the form of Johnny, resting in the stool to V's right. The rockerboy waved his hand to the crowd of other mercenaries unenthusiastically.
"Just gotta convince a couple of suckers to die for your sake." Johnny's voice echoed inside of V's skull. "With enough money…shouldn't be a problem."
Is that what you think mercs are?
"Fuck no. But that's what they've become, feels like." Johnny promptly snapped back at V's inner thoughts. "It used to be about something more, at least. They had ambitions, risking a bullet to the brain for a reason."
And not for the eddies, huh…?
"Well…" Johnny chuckled as his digital visage betrayed a knowing smile. "The money helped."
The bartender seized V's attention once more, her restless shifting and movements revealing her unease. She glanced over her shoulder repeatedly, as if there was someone in particular she did not want to be eavesdropped by, clearly harbouring something else that she wanted to tell him.
"But…" Claire continued, leaning in even closer to the mercenary. "...do you really want my advice?"
V slowly nodded. "Course I do."
"Then…" Claire spoke anxiously. "Don't let Rogue find a crew for you. Find your own crew, V. Choose people you know and trust. The mercs here? If they have to choose saving your ass out there or their own? I think you know which they'll pick. Your friends, though…they just might…as long as you're genuine with them. Tell them how much this new job means to you and…show some vulnerability."
"Huh…" was all that V could bring himself to say in response.
Claire reached out, offering V a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she quickly moved on, tending to the influx of regulars streaming through the club's entrance. Absently spinning the shot glass between his fingers, V was completely lost in contemplation. He stared into its distorted reflection, his own gaze staring back at him from within the glass.
Rogue probably knows best. She'll pick the best people for this.
"Nah…" Johnny interrupted V's thoughts. "The woman's right. Not liking anything Rogue's doing right now. Used to think Smasher was the only thing that would wake the merc DNA in her back up. I've got no fucking clue what she's thinking right now…and this Claire chick knows what she's saying—protection bought with coin isn't protection at all."
V swiftly turned to his right to stare at the ghostly figure, awestruck.
Johnny…?
The image of the rockerboy flickered slightly as he groaned and looked away from V. "Rogue…Shaitan…Spider Murphy…hell, even people like Santiago…I would've bitten the bullet a hell of a lot sooner if it weren't for them. Only when you've got trust that goes both ways—real fucking trust—can you say that someone's got your back."
Huh…
"What?" Johnny groaned.
Nothing, I just…I dunno, didn't expect you to talk about trust and camaraderie and all that.
Johnny lifted his cybernetic arm deliberately, directing a pointed finger toward the digital dog tag memento that hung around his neck. The gleaming metal of the tag caught the ambient light, shimmering as though there was a life, or a heart, still persisting inside.
"I know what real trust is." the rockerboy declared, his voice carrying a weight and unshakable conviction. Slowly, he shifted the same finger, redirecting it to point directly at V. "Do you…?"
Wha-? What the hell's that supposed to mean? I know how to trust, Johnny.
Johnny played along, feigning his agreement. "Uh-huh, like that cop, River? Or those chicks—Panam or Judy?"
Yeah, sure. I've been through some crazy shit with all of them.
Johnny's voice softened, his gaze steady as he continued, "And yet... you've never even told them your name."
The weight of Johnny's words hung in the air, leaving V momentarily stunned and speechless. A pang of realisation striking his gut, once again noticing an underlying truth in the rockerboy's words; it was a truth that frustrated him but was also one that could not be denied. He remained silent as Johnny continued to speak.
"Haven't told me your real name. Don't need to though, I already know it." the rockerboy chastised the quiet mercenary. "Looks like the only way someone can learn your name from you is if they're locked inside your fucking skull. Can't believe I'm agreeing with that chick either…but maybe she's on the right track—showing some vulnerability…who knows? Might not be so bad, V…"
I'm in your mind too, remember? I saw how you handled your chooms. The last thing you ever tried to show any of them was weakness.
V's clouded thoughts were harsh towards the deceased rockerboy, but Johnny managed to surprise the aggressive merc once more, this time by nodding in concurrence to him.
"Yeah…" Johnny muttered, finally turning to look back at V. His crimson shades attempted to veil the full emotion on his face, yet his voice hinted towards a hidden sorrow as his digital image faded in and out of visibility. "...and look where it got me."
V's gaze lingered on Johnny for some time, a newfound sympathy dawning in his eyes. Despite their differences, the mercenary simply could not bring himself to hate the man or his guidance, their bond having grown too strong over time to allow it. The weight of the rockerboy's regret, as well, was far too palpable to ignore.
With a subtle gesture, V pushed his shot glass away, distancing himself from the numbing embrace of alcohol. There were only three days on the clock for his latest gig. He required focus.
Delving into his pocket, V retrieved an NCART access card, the ticket to the city's sprawling metro system. Holding it between his fingers, he stared intently at the card, and whispered quietly to himself.
"Vulnerability, huh…?"
The mercenary had decided. The crew had to be one of his own making, and if so, there was one person he had to start with, waiting for him in the sandstorm ridden and unforgiving Badlands, an excellent candidate for the hijacking of a Kang Tao AV—and unlike Dakota Smith—was someone that V truly held trust in.
Panam Palmer—and her family of Aldecaldos.