Cyberpunk 2077: Night City Lord

The offer of rebirth came with two options; Cyberpunk or Warhammer. 

I could begin life anew in either of these universes or go back to being dead. 

For someone who didn't live much of a life before kicking it, this was like being offered an endless supply of polluted water on a blistering desert world. Thirst would indeed become a thing of the past, but I'd just be trading one form of suffering and eventual death for another. 

I wasn't well versed in the lore of both realities. I had read and watched some tidbits from time to time, gaining enough knowledge to engage in conversation but not enough to become an expert. But I did know enough. 

Enough to know Cyberpunk was the better choice. The only sane one to be precise. 

In my former life, both universes were generally regarded as horrible. Horrible… but cool. 

This quickly changed for me when the possibility of becoming a denizen of either became real. They both transitioned from horrible and cool to horrible and incredibly ass… one of them nastier than the other but both still ass. 

Naturally, I went for the less nasty, stinking orifice, which was Cyberpunk. Quite an easy choice if I might add. For in the place of bloodthirsty demons and ruinous gods, it had soulless corpos and the greedy corporations that backed them. 

I don't know about you, but given the chance to choose between two evils, I'd always choose the one that could bleed and die. 

And so Cyberpunk it was.

Less than an hour had passed since I arrived, and I'd been given welcome after proper welcome by the city of dreams. 

I'd ended over a dozen lives, escaped death by the skin of my teeth, and jumped onto a scene most people in my former world would never experience in their entire lifetimes. 

All in one hour, if I might again add. 

I still couldn't wrap my head around it. This place was worse than I imagined, and my expectations were really, really low to begin with. 

One of the main reasons I accepted the offer was, despite life being horrible for the average person here, especially in this city, it was still possible to survive. The population of Night City wasn't all corpos, mercs and edgerunners after all. 

It'd be a crappy life, but still, it'd be life. And to me that was better than death, where there were no possibilities. Where absolutely nothing happened. 

However, now that I'd gotten a short but proper glance at what I signed up for, I realized that this wasn't living. It was at best, dying extremely slowly and painfully, and at worst, dying instantly in the worst or most unnecessary way possible. 

That man and woman I stumbled upon must have been out on a walk or something. I didn't know. I wasn't sure. 

What I knew for a fact though was they hadn't gone out with the intent to die at the hands of someone suffering from cyberpsychosis. 

They were minding their own business when Night City bared its fangs at them out of nowhere. And now one of them was dead and the other scarred for life. Mentally that is. 

Physical imperfections only belonged to those without money. And that guy had a Trauma Team subscription. 

I digress…

The long and short of it was, this was the massive pile shit I'd stepped into, and if given another chance, I'd take that same step again. 

Right now, I was seated on the edge of a three storey building, my legs dangling down its side as I took in a semi-elevated view of the city. I got up there by jumping. Not by climbing the building or using a set of stairs. 

I jumped three storeys. 

The city may be hell, but me living again, the system, my ability to move about with no pain, and being able to achieve insane physical feats like this was heaven. Literal heaven. A tiny piece of heaven… in hell, but my piece of heaven regardless.

Those two victims must've felt the same way until Night City encroached upon and tainted their heavens. 

I had zero doubt it could and would try to do the same to me. As such, I needed to make myself as strong as fucking possible. I didn't accept this second life and forsake my morals just to live it a short time, much less die a pointless death. 

My physique was beyond what the most genetically gifted and well-trained human could possess. I had tons of eddies, a way to create anything, and a shit load of weapons. 

All I needed now was a steady source of more eddies, Soul Points, and the knowledge and skill to bring out and maximize the effectiveness of my abilities—both present and future ones. 

Simply put, I needed to learn how to fight and shoot and all my problems would become solvable. Violence was the name of the game in this place. I had Spider-Sense to help me navigate and avoid the worst of it, but it could only take me so far. 

I needed actual combat skills. Scratch that. I wanted them, and I wanted them now. 

Among the items I looted, there were a number of Reflex Chips, or as they were more popularly known, Skill Chips or Skill Softs. 

They were a type of shard that allowed someone who slotted them into their chipware socket to instantly gain whatever skills were recorded on them. 

For instance, if I were to chip in the Driving skillchip in my possession right now, I'd instantly be able to operate most vehicles despite never having learned to before. 

I'd start out at a beginner level, someone with rudimentary vehicle control skills. With a few days of practice however, I'd fully adapt to the chip and become not a master, but someone who was comfortable behind the wheel. 

There were a couple of problems though. One, I would only have the skill so long as the chip remained in. Two, and this was the most obvious impediment; I had no cyberware or chipware sockets to slot the chips in. 

I couldn't use any of the skillchips I had. 

With the system, the matter of skills being temporary would not be a problem. In fact, they weren't. I already had designs primed to make the skill assimilation permanent. What I needed was to get cyberware and by extension, the chipware sockets. 

So after leaving the No Tell Motel, disgusted by that pigsty of a room and embarrassed by my outburst, I found this building and spent the night on top of it, going through my inventory while deducing how to go about getting the necessary implants.

I cataloged every piece of loot from the scav den and separated them into two categories: personal and for sale. Hidden by the roof's parapet, I filled a duffle bag (which I also looted) with cyberware, weapons and other items in both categories. 

There wasn't much cyberware in the personal use category. Among them was a pain editor and a neural bridge.

The first one was obvious. Why feel pain when I could… not? As for the second, I once read in this really old novel about how ambidextrous people, if properly trained, could become the greatest fighters. 

I didn't know how much truth was behind that statement, but the ability to use both hands with equal dexterity seemed like a no-brainer for someone who wanted to be good at fighting. 

Even with all these reasons, I was still hesitant about putting these devices inside my body. They did both go in the brain after all. 

Technically, most, if not all implants were linked with the brain in some way. These implants however, would directly be inside of it, and I didn't want to take such a huge step without a system consultation first. 

And so I spent the night on the roof, messing around in the system, considering the future and my vast options, and what paths were the best to take, regarding both cyberware and what to do with my life in general. 

In this manner, I survived my first night in Night City and experienced my first ever morning as its citizen.

...

A duffle bag slung across my back, I walked off the monorail train, exited the NCART station, and stepped into the sub-district of Little China. 

I took in the swathes of busy people, the crowded streets, and the bright, colorful neon lights and sky-reaching buildings. Quickly and quite easily, I matched the landmarks nearby to the ones I memorized on the map, instantly deducing a path to Misty's shop. 

My destination only a walking distance away, I set off, crossing the near-congested street as I gripped my bag tighter. 

It had to be somewhere around 5 or 6 in the morning, judging from the level of natural illumination. However, there was so much activity and people that I was starting to believe that most people didn't actually sleep in this city. 

After weaving through and brushing against an uncountable number of people, smacking a would-be thief senseless, and engaging a staring contest with some scavs, I entered a lane between two buildings and stopped in front of my goal. 

"And… she's closed." 

Misty's Esoterica and Chakra Harmonization. I read what was supposed to be a brightly lit neon sign and lowered my gaze to the shut door, slightly miffed but not at all surprised due to the time. 

The dollhouse behind me didn't care what time of day it was though. I turned to look at the source of the pink and orange neon shadows on the walls and ground. 

It was a large glass exhibition that housed a young woman coiling her lithe body around a metal pole. My legs were rooted in place as the ultra flexible waist movements of the girl instantly sucked me in. 

Like a shark that had smelled blood, the tiny seductress drew me in further with a smile and smoothly turned her back to me, assuming a ninety degree position. 

She resumed those mesmerizing waist movements, her above average backside bubbling with an intensity that made it seem two sizes larger. 

A smile befitting a lecher slowly crept onto my face, making me throw my head back in light laughter. 'Super-Soldier Serum mixed with teenage hormones… I didn't see that coming, that's for sure.' 

This "situation" obviously wasn't a first for me. I mean, women existed in my world too and if I remember correctly, I'd always been a straight male. 

Except, at some point in my life then, my desire for the opposite sex and intercourse were tossed so far on the backburner that they eventually became non-existent. 

While many boys my age were thinking of how to get laid, I was looking forward to breathing my last. For in it my pain would end and I'd no longer be a burden to my family.

Lo and behold, I'd gotten a strong and healthy body—perhaps too healthy—and my first encounter with a desirable member of the opposite sex had stirred a long forgotten flame in my loins. 

Well, horniness or not, my rationality and calmness had not once wavered. It may look like I was lost in the sauce, but the reality was anything but. I'd never lost sight of my surroundings. Plus, I had Spider-Sense so…

So with a smile on my face, I stepped close to the exhibition and locked eyes with the doll, her own movements slowing as she drew closer to the glass. 

She twisted her sinewy but supple body and smoothed her hands up and down her shapely frame, staring at me with a promise to make all my dreams come true. 

No sound coming from my lips, I pressed my forearm on the glass, leaned forward and mouthed, "What's your name?" 

I couldn't hear her through the glass, but I wasn't counting on that in the first place. My smile grew wider and hers more sultry as she mouthed back "Shantel" through her full, crimson lips. 

"Shantel," I said, nodding. "I'll be back."

She blew me a kiss and jumped back, catching and clinging to her pole without even looking. I chuckled and turned to leave, my next destination the alleyway behind Misty's shop. 

Vik's shop was closed like I expected. Hence, I sat down on the short steps to the right of the entrance and gently lowered the duffle beside me. There was a homeless man sleeping nearby and I didn't want to wake him. 

A tiny part of me hoped he would awaken so that we could strike up a conversation. But he remained deep in slumber. I hadn't spoken to a single person since I arrived. Hopefully, that would change with Vik's arrival. 

Anyways, to pass the time, I created a simple pen and notebook and started jotting some things down. Since I was in public, I refrained from writing down any meta knowledge and instead updated my bucket list. 

Life version 2.0 had brought to my attention possibilities I hadn't originally considered. 

My gaze flickered over to the homeless man and I wrote down the first thing: Give to the homeless and needy. 

I got a taste of helping others when I saved those people in the scav den. It was exactly how I imagined it would be, and I wanted more. I added three exclamation points to it in the notebook and moved on to the second item. 

My face morphed into a smile when what to put there instantly jumped to my mind: Lose my virginity/Shantel!!!

Maintaining that stupid smile, I quickly wrote it down and moved on to the third thing: Learn how to swim, try your hand at sports, learn martial arts, parkour etc. basically any physical/athletic skills. 

Fourth: Learn how to shoot. Learn to wield a sword. Katana!!! Archery!!! *Definitely have to try them. 

Fifth: Buy a badass jacket and trench coat!!! *Very necessary.

Item after item joined the list, and I tried to come up with even more. This was a fantasy world. There had to be a lot more things I could try. 

Alas, I came up short. 

Back then when I attempted this list, I'd already found out I was going to die. So I didn't come up with a lot of things or even bother to write the list down, something I was beginning to regret.

Nevertheless, things had changed. I just had to live and explore and more things would come to me. For now, this short list would be enough. As I put the notebook away, the homeless man woke up and slowly sat up straight. 

I braced myself and prepared to raise my hands in order to show him I meant no harm. But the diminutive man didn't even blink upon turning his head in my direction. 

He spent about two seconds sizing me up and got on his feet, his every movement telling me he was about to leave. In order not to startle or give him the wrong idea, I remained seated and said in the most calm way I could manage. 

"Hi. I'm Bishop. What's your–and he's leaving... Great."

A bit bummed out, I watched the man move farther and farther away, wondering if he found my being nice and approachable annoying or suspicious. I was inclined to believe it was the latter. This was Night City after all. I could be a scav for all he knew. 

Nodding at my own interpretation of events, I shrugged and leaned on the door behind me. I placed both arms behind my head, kicked my booted feet up, and looked up at the sky. I had plenty of time to kill, so I decided to spend it brainstorming. 

On the outside, it looked like I was daydreaming, but in reality, I was in the system. I moved the paint brush around without ceasing, jotting down designs, ideas, items or powers that came to mind. 

Like a lot of fictional universes with powers and power systems, cyberware was the name of the game here. 

If I wanted to become powerful to the extent that Night City or any corp would find me impossible to swallow, much less chew, I had to consider the most common and obvious path to power here. 

Sure, with my system and a few thousand dead, I could ignore the insanity enablers entirely and give myself any combination of potent superpowers. 

But why do that? Rather than outright dismissal, wouldn't it be better to merge the two options. Because it was entirely possible with the system. I could transform the cyberware into superpowers and infuse them into myself! 

Not only would I save a lot of Soul Points that way, I would also avoid the potential pitfalls that came with being a murder hobo. 

Most, if not all the wanton killers I'd watched or read about in fiction were dubious antiheroes or outright villains. And a lot of them led crappy lives which tended to end in even crappier ways. 

I wasn't interested in either of those things. 

And so I wrote, designed and discarded multiple options regarding my idea until Spider-Sense yanked me back to reality.