FOURTH_TIMER: 7%
[IMAGE OF A HAND REACHING OUT TO THE SUN DISPLAYED]
CURRENT_STATUS: "Seed is Sown"
ENTRY_DATA:
Once again, you're being reminded of how important it is to have allies in a place like Night City.
Preparation time for your new gig has almost run out, but you just about have all the pieces you'll need in place. It's taken a lot of your willpower to get this far. Asking for help will probably never come naturally to you. But if you're starting to run out of juice, just remember that you're at the final stretch now. It won't be long now until all of your chooms are officially on board.
Kang Tao won't know what hit them.
The conversation with River Ward went surprisingly well.
Though it had been difficult for V to see the detective so downtrodden and defeated, reuniting with the man after a brief time away had raised the mercenary's spirits, and River even seemed willing to hear out the details of the job that had been lined up. V had still chosen not to reveal too much yet, just like how he had handled the proposal with Panam, and simply requested that River await the call for a future meeting. The meeting would be set at the same location he had provided to Panam; it would be his own apartment situated in the Glen. It would be there that he would reveal to his friends what the job actually entailed.
V knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his friends once they were all gathered, and the otherwise fearless merc dreaded the upcoming meeting, but he held onto faith that they would at least hear him out. Additionally, the job would be extremely well-paying, which was exactly what River seemed to require. V was surprised to hear from the detective that his account had already received a large down payment in advance, though less surprised than the first time it had happened with Panam. The client's omnipotence was still unnerving, but beginning to become expected, and it served as evidence that they were willing to pay whatever it took to retrieve their precious netrunner—Song So Mi.
Now, there was only one more person on V's list to recruit.
The mercenary's Porsche razed the endless sands beneath its tires, grinding against the dirt as it sped along a makeshift road down the southeast of Night City. Laguna Bend, a massive reservoir housing a large stretch of toxic waters, could be seen through the left windows of his vehicle. Moonlight danced off of its murky yet still reflective waters as the day had come to an end and the moon began to peer over the horizon, its opulence nearly in full view.
The blurred image of a phantom rockerboy rested in the passenger seat and stared listlessly, not at the reservoir, but at the clear night sky. Sometimes, it was only out of the thick of the Badlands that one could appreciate the sky in its full beauty. In the confines of the city's walls, gargantuan skyscrapers and suffocating clouds of smoke and ash would often blot out the sky above them.
Johnny let the illusory cigarette burn away to nothingness between his lips as he gazed out of the window, too lost in contemplation to even bother inhaling the virtual smoke.
He turned to V, and spoke above the sound of the roaring engine. "...lucky break with that detective. Didn't even need to bring up what you did for his nephew—man's already looking for a score like this."
"My choom's selling drugs on the street with a kid, Johnny." the mercenary groaned weakly. "Wouldn't call that a lucky break."
"Uh-huh, and you've only ever done things you're proud of, right?" Johnny shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Course not… but River was supposed to be better. A better man… than me."
V's retort caused Johnny to glare daggers into the side of his face. If it were any other friend, they might have rebuked the mercenary's self-deprecation—but not Johnny. The phantom fell silent, letting his wordless glare convey his disapproval instead. His intense gaze was enough to make V shift uncomfortably, the unspoken words left hanging in the air for a time.
"But…if this gig really does bring in the eddies—least he can get whatever he needs for Randy." V eventually broke the silence. "I think he's on board. Now…there's just Judy left."
Johnny grumbled like a jaded, elderly man. The image of him leaned its head back onto the cushioned seat. "The fucking techie…"
"We're not having this convo again, Johnny."
"Of all the techies in Night City, it had to be her; the crazy chick that could've gotten you killed in a dollhouse." Johnny remarked angrily, raising his voice and changing an octave. "You know, V, it's a place to get your mind blown—not get your mind blown."
"What the hell is your problem with her?"
"Didn't you hear me? She's fucking crazy."
V nearly took his eyes off of the road to scowl at the phantom. "You're fucking crazy."
"But at least I've got a plan—a vision. I've always got one. That chick has no fucking clue what she's doing. Is she a BD techie or a revolutionist? Is she saving the dolls or getting them all killed? Is she staying in Night City or getting the fuck out?" Johnny criticised harshly, disdain dripping from his tone. "She's a mess, V."
The mercenary still had plenty of rebuttals tucked away and ready for use, but he chose instead to let the hum of the engine drown out their conversation.
As fervently as he had tried to defend Judy time and time again, V could not shake his own doubts about her. His first impression of the techie had been of a strong, resilient, and especially sharp-tongued woman who seemed to have her place in the city all figured out. When she approached him with an impassioned speech and a plan to lead the dolls of Clouds in a revolution against their oppressive bosses, he failed to resist the urge to help.
It turned out to be one of the worst mistakes V had made since obtaining the Relic.
The so-called revolution did little more than tighten the Tyger Claws' iron grip on Clouds—and cost the lives of dolls who simply wished for better lives. The failure had seemingly ruined Judy, too. Despite V's efforts to console her and lift the burden of guilt from her shoulders, it proved too heavy for her to bear.
As the engine's steady rumble filled the silence, V's mind replayed the events that led to the collapse of her mental wellbeing. The look in Judy's eyes when she realised the cost of their failed uprising haunted him. Her strong demeanour crushed and pulverised into hopelessness. Lines of runny mascara dribbling down her cheeks. It was a mixture of betrayal, sorrow, and a deep-seated anger that even now, he could feel gnawing at the edges of his conscience.
Since then, she had secluded herself outside the city, in an old, decrepit cottage that had been abandoned for some time. The cottage sat right beside the toxic waters of Laguna Bend, overlooking the submerged suburb that was once her hometown. V remembered vividly the day they had dived into the reservoir's toxic depths, using sturdy diving equipment to explore the ruins of Judy's childhood. The experience had been both fascinating and bone-chilling, a stark reminder of the relentless decay that Night City inflicted on everything it touched.
V wondered if he stood any chance of convincing her to join him on his latest job. Their last conversation had been filled with Judy's new desire to escape the stains of Night City forever. She talked about setting off for Oregon, or perhaps Seattle, though she had yet to follow through on those plans—or at least, she had not told him if she had.
He remembered the look in her eyes as she spoke of her dreams of leaving, the way her voice trembled with a mix of hope and despair. She was clearly tired, worn down by the city's ceaseless grind on her soul and wished to start anew, to find a place where she could breathe freely, unburdened by the past.
Yet, despite her words, she remained in the decaying cottage by the poisoned waters, haunted by memories and tethered by invisible chains. V couldn't blame her for wanting to leave, but he hoped—selfishly, perhaps—that she might find it in her heart to help him one more time.
There was only one way to find out.
Serenity and silence enveloped the cottage.
V parked his vehicle just outside and approached the modest building, the stale, still air pressing in on him. Though silent, the lights inside the cottage shone brightly against the darkness of night, offering the mercenary a measure of relief. He swiftly hopped up the steps to the wooden porch and knocked on the door, catching the unmistakable scent of cigarettes wafting from within.
When there was no response, concern began to spike. He knocked several more times, the sound of his powerful, reinforced knuckles echoing through the vast expanse of the quiet desert.
"Judy? Open up—it's me!" he called out, his voice slicing through the stillness.
For a moment, there was only silence again. Then, a shuffling sound from within. V's pulse quickened as he heard the lock click, and the door creaked open to reveal Judy, silhouetted against the warm light inside.
She looked worn, her eyes tired and shadowed, but there was a flicker of recognition—and perhaps a glimmer of hope—as she took in the sight of V standing on her porch.
Judy stood in the doorway, her petite frame framed by the soft, amber glow of the cottage's interior. Her green and pink-dyed hair, once vibrant and striking, had begun to fade into her natural brown. Her eyes held a weak but still persistent spark of energy inside them.
She wore a white crop top that clung to her slim figure, revealing the tattoos that decorated her arms and stomach, all the way up to her neck. The tattoos—a mix of geometric patterns, flowers, and webs—held stories that the mercenary still had not heard. Over the crop top, she had on her distinctive black, mesh jacket, its sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her legs were clad in black, high-waisted pants that hugged her form, and on her feet were a pair of scuffed but defiant and durable boots.
As she stepped aside to let V in, the mercenary could not help but notice the subtle signs of her struggles, the faint shadows under her eyes, the slight slump in her shoulders, and the way she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her small frame.
"V?" Her voice was a mix of surprise and caution, raspy and strained. "What are you doing here?"
"Good to see you too." V responded sarcastically with a sheepish grin.
"Yeah—it's good to see you, I just…wasn't expecting any visitors. At all."
The mercenary rhythmically tapped his sturdy boots on the wooden porch. "Mind if I come in?"
"Sure… of course." Judy's voice carried a hint of hesitation, but she stepped back, opening the door wider with a painful creak.
V stepped inside, immediately hit by the stronger scent of stale cigarettes and old wood. The cottage, a small relic from the past, had changed somewhat since his last visit, and was in obvious disarray. The once-cosy living room now had its contents all strewn out haphazardly across the floor. The walls, adorned with faded wallpaper, were covered in a mix of vintage posters, torn out newspaper clippings, and new, hastily pinned schematics. A well-worn sofa, its fabric fraying at the edges, sat against one wall, piled high with clothes, tools, and discarded tech parts. A coffee table in front of it was cluttered with ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts, half-empty mugs, and a tangle of wires connected to a new holographic display.
In one corner, an old wooden desk was barely visible beneath stacks of papers, holobooks, and various gadgets in different states of disassembly. The air was filled with a faint hum from the devices scattered around, some blinking with soft, rhythmic lights.
Judy moved ahead, clearing a space on the sofa with a swift sweep of her arm, sending a cascade of items to the floor. "Sorry about the mess…" she said, a faint blush of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. "Haven't had much time to tidy up."
V waved it off, his gaze wandering over the room. "Heh…it's sure gotten…busier."
"I know…this place is turning into my fucking apartment. I can't get away."
"Judy…" he whispered softly, his eyes focusing on the techie once more.
Judy settled into a corner of the sofa, pulling her legs up and hugging her knees. The warm, orange glow of the cottage lights bathed her in a soft, melancholic hue, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. The mercenary could not tell if her eyes were worn from a lack of sleep, routine crying, or a terrible combination of both. Either way, seeing her in such a state of despondency was hard to bear. Despite having witnessed her like this before, it never got easier. She seemed almost defeated, mirroring the same weariness he had seen in River.
"What happened to the trip you planned?" V questioned, his voice firm but gentle. "I thought you were packing everything up—leaving."
Judy averted her gaze, staring at a spot on the floor. "I…am." she answered unconvincingly. "It's just—I had some…unfinished business. Loose threads to clean up…small favours to pay back, you know…"
V glanced around the cluttered cottage, taking in the disarray again. It was obvious she had not left the building in weeks, at the very least. She was lying, and they both knew it.
"…I just haven't found the right time yet." she added weakly, her honesty showing through this time.
V leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. "You're stuck."
Judy's eyes finally met his again, a mixture of sadness and confusion on full display. After a long pause, she nodded. "Yeah…I'm stuck." she repeated.
She shifted restlessly on the sofa, fidgeting like a child, lost and afraid. When she finally spoke again, her voice was filled with unbridled frustration.
"Can't tell you how many times I've packed and unpacked my stuff, V. Every time I think I'm ready to step out the door…I can't."
V's expression softened, understanding the weight of her struggle. "I get it. This fucking city…it grows roots in you. No matter how bad shit gets…something always pulls you back in—drags you kicking and screaming, if it has to."
"...you sound like you're talking from experience."
The mercenary hesitated, still unaccustomed to opening up about himself, especially regarding the more sensitive topics from his past. Clenching his fists and swallowing his pride, V took a seat on the cleared spot of the sofa beside Judy, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"Sure." he admitted reluctantly, nearly falling into a faint whisper. "Must've been—I dunno…two? Three years ago? Packed my shit and left it all behind, ready to never see Night City again."
Judy's eyes widened with surprise, the stiffness of her demeanour gradually beginning to relax. "Really?"
"Yup."
"Where'd you go…?"
V shook his head regretfully, old and unwanted memories bubbling back up to the surface in his mind. "Georgia—settled in Atlanta. Stayed there for a while. I guess it was nice…met new chooms, got a decent roof over my head, did some side hustles for scratch…"
"Why…didn't you stay?"
"...because nice ain't good enough for me." the merc lamented. "I had dreams—dreams of making it big. Atlanta didn't have any chances for that, and I…I got bored. Crawled my way back to the city after two years, still itching for that one big score—one that'd put my name in people's mouths."
"That's…" Judy started, internally debating whether she would continue for a moment, before ultimately deciding to finish her thought. "That's pretty fucking gonk, V."
"Yup." the merc chuckled dryly in response, wholeheartedly agreeing with her. "If I wasn't so gonk…if I just stayed in Atlanta…I wouldn't be so close to flatlining…"
"What?"
Judy's head snapped up, eyes narrowing in concern as V had foolishly allowed himself to trail off absent-mindedly. The mercenary momentarily panicked, quickly held up his hands, and attempted to backtrack to a degree. It was not yet time to break the entire truth out to her.
"Uh, thing is—" he scrambled to explain before the woman had a chance to question him further. "I've…got a problem—the kinda problem I can only fix…with a gig."
"Hm." Judy simply hummed, her posture still tensed and an eyebrow raised, but she allowed the merc to continue.
"I'm getting my chooms together for this one…and you're on the list, Judy."
Judy's eyes locked onto his, searching for any hint of deception. The intensity of her gaze was almost palpable, and V met it head-on, unwavering. The silence that settled between them was thick with unspoken tension, a painful span of time that made the mercenary feel increasingly more shame for asking the longer that it went on.
The techie's expression had become a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, frustration, and something else V could not quite place. She began to tap one boot on the floor in her annoyance, her irritation slowly simmering and bubbling to the surface as she processed his sudden proposal.
"V…" she sighed, running a hand through her hair, the colours catching the light. "I'm leaving."
"Yeah, but—"
"No buts. I know I've been putting it off…but I thought you understood. I wasn't bullshitting you, V. I've gotta leave this city behind, I'm fucking sick of all of it…"
V was taken aback by Judy's response, the remnants of his confidence crumbling in an instant. Her eyes flashed with a hurt that cut deeper than he had anticipated, making his sense of shame and guilt swell to its maximum. He had made it seem to Judy that he did not take her intention to leave seriously, simply by voicing his request.
Frozen in place, V struggled to find the right words to follow up his proposal with, his mind racing but coming up empty. He could see a newfound pain etched in Judy's face, one that he never meant to put there.
His optics flickered, the pixels dancing across his vision before converging into a familiar image. Johnny materialised beside the sofa, his digital form propped up casually against the armrest. His expression was inscrutable, a mix of amusement and yet also a frustration or perhaps disappointment.
"Shit, V. Doesn't look like she wants to get off her ass at all—not for your sake or her own." Johnny's voice was a low murmur, barely audible to V but dripping with sarcasm. "If only you had a raging sex god in your brain that could've already warned you about this. If only."
Pipe down, Johnny. Trying to focus here.
"Look…I know you're leaving. I got that." V spoke as softly as he could, inching across the sofa closer to his techie friend. "...and that's fine, you gotta do whatever you think is right. All I'm asking is…that you stay a little longer….and save my neck first."
Judy's eyes flashed with terror. "There it is—again. Are you screwing with me, or…is your life really in danger? What the hell did you get yourself into?"
"It's a long story, and I came here to invite you to hear all of it. I'm asking my chooms to meet me at my apartment first thing tomorrow. Will you…do that, for me?"
"V…"
"I ain't even asking you to commit to anything. If you don't like the shit you hear, you can turn me down, even if you come to the apartment." V's tone of voice teetered on the edge of desperation. "But…at least hear what I gotta say. Please."
The mercenary inched closer to Judy, genuine hope gleaming in his eyes. He could see the hesitation in her gaze, knowing she was still weighing her own desires against his desperate plea. Despite this, he persisted, closing the gap between them to show just how much he needed her help.
Fear started to grip V as Judy's expression transformed from reluctance to something more concerning—disgust. His heart dropped as he watched the techie pull back, retreating further to one side of the sofa.
"W-What's wrong?" he asked, a nervous gulp betraying his anxiety.
"V, you…" Judy whispered quietly, her voice barely audible.
Much to V's surprise, Judy theatrically pinched her nose and waved one hand in front of her face. "...when was the last time you showered?" she chuckled, trying to waft his smell away from herself.
Relief immediately washed over V, and he couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room easing just a bit. "Sorry, it's been a rough couple of days…or weeks." he admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"Yeah, I can tell."
"Is it, uh, really that bad?" V asked, though he already knew the answer.
From plunging into a state of depression after the fateful meeting at Embers to meeting his new, elusive client and scrambling to rally his friends from all across Night City, the mercenary had found no time at all to take proper care of himself. More so than usual, his life had become a relentless and exhausting race against time, of which he still had precious little.
"Smells like a mix of blood, mud…and vomit." Judy confirmed to the merc, shaking her head with a sad smile on her face. "Been hitting the streets and the booze, huh?"
"Damn…"
"You can use my shower. Go on, get yourself cleaned up." she said, her tone light but firm.
She leaned toward V, still pinching her nose, and gave him an encouraging slap on the back to nudge him off the sofa. V stumbled to his feet, glancing at the miniscule bathroom in the corner of the cottage. He hesitated, unsure of leaving the conversation halfway.
"Wait, what about—"
"Yeah, yeah—I'll go to your meeting. It's fine. Just take a shower already." Judy insisted loudly, deliberately cutting him off to stop his pleading.
V paused, absorbing her words. Gratitude spread across his face as he smiled. "Judy…thanks."
"Don't thank me, this doesn't mean anything. I'm just gonna hear you out, that's all." Judy shook her head, her smile belying her words. "Flick me the time and address…after you get rid of that smell."
"You got it." V laughed, almost striding out of the room before remembering that he still had one more question to pose. "Oh…just one thing."
"What?"
"Did you, uh…get some eddies transferred to you lately?" the merc asked worriedly, his voice turning slightly grim. "Big sum—outta nowhere?"
Judy's smile shifted to a look of pure perplexion. "Huh…? Yeah…yeah I did. It was just last week…"
V could not help but grimace at her response, despite expecting it. "From a mystery account, right? You couldn't trace it back to anyone?"
"Well, yeah—but how do you know about any of that?"
"Ah…don't sweat it, Judy. It's just another thing I'll explain at the apartment…"
V swiftly turned away and approached the bathroom door, a familiar fear swirling in the depths of his gut, dampening the relief he felt from Judy's cooperation. His peculiar client had once again seemingly predicted every person V would seek out for help—Panam Palmer, River Ward, and now finally Judy Álvarez. The client had anticipated his every move for the third time, long before V had even agreed to the job.
The eerie foresight, though fully expected by now, still gnawed at him, the fear giving way to burning frustration. Reaching the bathroom, V hurriedly opened the door, his teeth gritted as he tried to physically shake off the strange fear. The small, cramped space was utilitarian, with a small shower stall with an accompanying bathtub, a worn sink, and a chipped mirror that reflected his tense expression.
V stared endlessly into the mirror as he slowly and gingerly removed his Samurai jacket. Eyes, still slightly bloodshot, stared right back at him.
"Fuck…" he muttered.
Burning, steaming water cascaded from the mercenary's head down to his back, soaking and softening his short, kempt hair, his battered skin, and, for the moment, his weary soul. V closed his eyes and leaned against the bathroom wall, both hands pressed firmly against the cool tiles, allowing the searing hot water to rejuvenate his body and spirit. The sensation was a welcome reprieve after his reunion with Judy, and it worked wonders on his frayed nerves.
The grime and muck that had accumulated from days of relentless activity were gradually being washed away, swirling down the drain along with the stress and tension that had plagued him. He could feel himself retreating from all of the thoughts that terrified him, if only temporarily, as the water scoured away the physical and emotional filth.
Unfortunately, the reprieve did not last long. The digital form of Johnny shimmered back into view and leaned against the wall opposite the shower. His arms folded and his shades already removed, the rockerboy groaned cautiously.
"Three for three, V. Not bad. You've got them all ready to hear you out... now you've just gotta keep them."
V's eyes snapped open against the running water. He turned to look at the phantom, then glanced at his own nude body, then back at Johnny.
"Johnny?! What the hell, man?! I'm naked here!" V angrily yelped.
Johnny hissed in disgust, rolling his eyes. "What—you think I want to see this shit? Please." He upturned his nose, a look of revulsion on his face. "I'm always here, always watching—can't do anything about it. I'd fucking gouge my own eyes out…if I had any."
V shook his head and grumbled under his breath, remembering that his friend Judy was in the other room. If he was not careful, his voice would certainly carry through the thin walls of the cottage for her to hear, and it would be exceedingly difficult for him to explain who he was speaking with.
Don't worry, Johnny. I ain't about to fuck this up. I'll call them over to my apartment tomorrow…and I'll win them over.
"Uh-huh. Behold, V—the master negotiator!" Johnny responded to the mercenary's thoughts, waving his hands dramatically and giving a dry chuckle. "Don't even think about an improvised speech. You suck at them. What you need is a game plan."
V turned away, letting the rushing water cascade over his head once more. He cupped his hand, filled it with shampoo, and frantically scrubbed his hair down to the scalp.
As he lathered up, V weighed his options, imagining the upcoming meeting with his friends. He could see their faces with pristine clarity. Panam's determined gaze, River's wary eyes, Judy's guarded expression. What could he say to convince all of them to join him on a raid on a Kang Tao AV?
His mind played out various scenarios for the upcoming meeting, grappling with the right words. None of the approaches he envisioned filled him with any confidence, barring one. A certain piece of advice he had received during his last visit to the Afterlife had stuck with him. It consisted of an entirely different approach that V had never considered before, but it was increasingly beginning to feel like the most promising option for him.
The water continued to pour over him as he began to arrive at his answer. He rinsed the shampoo from his hair, feeling the slick strands slide through his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he let the water soothe his nerves one last time before shutting it off.
I…think you were right. About Claire's advice. Maybe it is a good idea. If I try to show them some…vulnerability.
Johnny stared at the hesitant mercenary, allowing the weight of the admission to linger in the air. The silence was thick, punctuated only by the occasional drip of water from the showerhead. V's words hung there, raw and exposed, much like the man himself.
After a moment, Johnny nodded, concurring with the thought. "Alright." he said slowly, his tone thoughtful. "We'll see how that plays out."
But before that, I gotta pay a visit to Viktor. Been a while…and he's probably still pissed, but…I've gotta get my chrome checked out. Make sure I'm still in my best shape.
"Hm. Gonna get any new implants?"
What? No? I'm already all chromed out, can't think of any other implant I need.
"I can think of one." Johnny unexpectedly retorted, a worryingly amused grin suddenly beginning to spread across his pixelated face.
Which one?
The phantom rockerboy made a show of an obvious glance to the naked mercenary's exposed nether region, before meeting V's gaze again with an even larger smile parading his expression. The merc quickly realised what his Johnny was about to say.
"Penis enlargement."
The mercenary could not help but join the rockerboy in a hearty chuckle as he reached for a spare towel hanging on a railing beside the bathtub, finding himself grinning in kind.
Oh, fuck you, Johnny.