Dogtown was as brutally savage as expected, but there was a certain flair to it that really made her want to stick around. The weapons on display, the clothing, it was like an entirely different Night City and V felt like a kid in a candy store. Even Silverhand was quiet, seemingly content to just soak in everything. At least, until they entered a weapon shop and found a corner with a particular box. Upon its lid, in gold were the following words that meant nothing to her, but everything apparently to Johnny.
"Oh, fuck."
"What's wrong?" She asked curiously, staring at the words as she added. "You know the guy?"
Johnny was quiet, hand cupping his face as he lit up a cigarette before speaking in a solemn tone that had her pay attention more than any amount of words.
"Its complicated. Did you know, this face is biosculpted?" Her surprise must have been visible, because Johnny chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. I used to be a different kind of looker. But then after deserting the army and getting into the shenanigans I was, I needed a new look. It was then I found out about Saint Wick."
V scoffed. "Religion? You?"
"Not exactly." Johnny's face was grimly amused as he spoke. "It's only a name bandied around the kind of fancy circles you and I wander. It's especially powerful in New York Cities underworld, but essentially Saint John Wick in life was a man of sheer fucking will. For a dog and a car, he destroyed the Underworld Leadership in his day, began the revolution and many say, pioneered the first Edgerunner archetype that folks like Blackhand, Smasher and myself later followed. He was an anarchist who took no shit, and I figured I couldn't do better. So I got the job, looked like this ever since. Though I doubt anyone else in this city even knows his name."
"Not entirely untrue." V remarked, nodding to the case as Johnny chuckled.
"Yeah. Guess we got a Big Apple native here. At any rate, it never hurts to pay your respects to the one who paved the way."
He vanished and V left the shop. A few moments later, someone new strode in, a cloud of noxious smoke about their person and dressed in a rumbled raincoat. Raising a hand to the owner, he called out in a thick accent.
"Oi, luv! You got me package all wrapped nice and neat?"
"Right in the corner."
He grinned, his eyes flashed as he sent over the money. "Banger. I'll just take this out of yer hair then." He went to the corner, grabbed the box for Mr. Wick and strode out as he said offhand.
"He's gonna love this."