Friday Night Firefight: A Cyberpunk Isekai

My head was all the way inside the engine compartment of the car as I looked around, scanning the jumble of parts with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Cars were weird as hell to me. My knowledge was limited to the basics: they’ve got gaskets, horsepower makes them go faster, they need to have their oil changed. Everything beyond that was a mystery.

As I was trying to make sense of the engine and its pieces, Zion and a Valentino strode up to me.

“Noah,” Zion called out. “This is Francisco Gomez. It’s his shop, and he’s promised to answer your questions.”

When I started asking around about self-driving vehicles and how they worked, it was Zion who stepped up and offered to help. He had contacts in several chop shops around Night City and we always gave him the cars we were trying to disappear after our gigs. He suggested I speak with a mechanic friend of his, so we headed to the chop shop in Arroyo that he owned.

I pulled myself out of the engine compartment and glanced over at Zion and the Valentino. It was obvious that Francisco wasn’t thrilled to be dealing with me. He regarded me the same way Zion had before we started working together – another young kid who doesn’t listen and thinks he knows better. Francisco was a top-notch mechanic and the go-to guy for anyone looking to make a quick eddie off stolen vehicles. It was unknown how many vehicles had met their end inside his tiny garage.

The man himself didn’t bother wiping away his frown as he stepped up to greet me. His hands were greasy from tinkering with the innards of a disassembled engine, and he no doubt would rather have been working on that than dealing with a random kid who showed up to his shop, asking questions about cars.

“What do you wanna know?” asked Francisco, his tone gruff.

“The self-driving programs. How do they work?” I asked. “Is it an AI or something?”

Francisco rolled his eyes and turned back to Zion as if to ask, ‘what the hell am I doing here?’ “This ain’t a tech workshop kid. I’ve got shit to do.”

Before I could respond, Zion stepped in. “How much eddies have we made you? When we got a car that needs to disappear, we bring it to your shop. And I know you make more eddies than what you pass to us.”

“Parts, labor, a customer base. We got those things and you don’t. We need to make money somehow,” answered Francisco.

“And I’ve got no problem with that. But the kid here wants to know about self-driving stuff. So, do us a favor and explain.”

Francisco huffed and turned back to me. “Most people don’t wanna know about this shit. They just care their car works. Why’s a kid interested in this anyway?”

I shrugged. “Personal project. I like tinkering with things.”

He huffed at that and rolled his eyes, but then he started to explain. “They’re basically a computer algorithm.” He pointed at a small black box attached to the engine of the car I was looking at. “Bunch of sensors, cameras, and LIDAR get fed into that, and the algorithm uses it to navigate. It uses real-time data to make decisions about speed, direction, and obstacles.”

My mind raced as I jotted down all the information into a small notebook, the pages already filled with hurried notes and sketches. “And how hard would it be to take that algorithm and install it into something else?” I asked.

Francisco rubbed his chin, smearing grease on his face. “It’s possible, but I don’t know why you’d do it. That thing is designed specifically for cars and trucks. You’d need to reprogram it completely for a different environment. And then you’ve also got hardware that’s gonna be a problem. Cars all have interfaces and control systems and all that already built in.”

“But it can be done?” I pressed, feeling a surge of excitement.

Francisco let out a grunt, his expression skeptical. “Yea. Sure. You’d need to get your hands on the source code, though. And you’ll have to modify it to match a new machine. It’s not a weekend project. It’ll take a lot of work and man-hours.”

I nodded, the gears in my head already turning. Sandra and her netrunner collective had plenty of man-hours to spare, and I was sure they could pull it off. “Got it, thanks Francisco.”

He shrugged and turned to Zion. “Just don’t bring any trouble back to my shop. Already got 6th Street crawling up my ass, challenging the Valentinos. Don’t need anything else.”

Zion smirked. “Don’t worry choom. We’re not going to bring any heat down on you.”

As we left the shop, the smell of oil and burnt rubber still lingered in the air. Zion clapped me on the back. “You got what you needed?”

“Yea. Just gotta find someone who has the algorithm source code he mentioned. I think Yoko might,” I replied.

We walked back to our vehicles, which we’d parked half a block away from the chop shop. I saddled up on my Kusanagi and Zion turned to me, curiosity evident in his eyes. “Need anything else? I don’t know what you’re planning, but I figure you’re gonna need something other than the source code.”

I nodded but hesitated before answering. Zion caught my hesitation and prodded me a little.

“C4,” I said, grimacing slightly. “Or something like it. A bunch of explosive stuff that can knock down a wall. I don’t know how easy it is to source something like that.”

He gave me a blank look for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. “Shit kid, not even gonna ask. I’ll talk to Diego. He might know a few people who work with the stuff. Just make sure you know what you’re doing, and you don’t blow everyone up.”

&&&

“This is such a stupid idea. This is such a monumentally dumb thing I’m doing. This idea comes straight from the mind of an idiot who nobody is warning he’s making a ridiculous mistake.”

I muttered those thoughts under my breath as I sat on a concrete bench outside Megabuilding H4 in Arroyo. The massive structure loomed above me, its countless windows reflecting the neon glow of Night City. This was the same megabuilding where David Martinez lived. Or used to live.

I wasn’t entirely certain about where the timeline of the Edgerunners TV show fell in relation to now. I knew it took place before the events of the game, but that’s about it. Had David’s mother already fallen victim to a highway gunfight, pushing David into the edgerunner lifestyle? Maybe he was still just a relatively normal guy, living in one of the many apartments here, rather than someone who fell in with a merc crew and was destined to die at the hands of Adam Smasher, Night City’s bogeyman.

Night City was enormous, and the odds of crossing paths with David, Maine, Rebecca, or any of the other Edgerunners were slim. It was even less likely considering my career trajectory. I was closer to gang members and corpos than to any fixer who could change my career with a single gig.

I hadn’t even taken a job from Regina yet, let alone done enough to earn a place in the hallowed halls of The Afterlife. If I ever wanted an invite to that mercenary haven, I’d need to become a more traditional merc, diverging from the path I was currently on.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rumble of an engine, and I turned to watch Diego pull up to the megabuilding in one of the gun runner vans we’d seized when grabbing the Tsunami weapons. The van was a nondescript grey, perfect for blending into the streets of Night City. I watched as Diego stepped out of the van and headed into the megabuilding. Cyndi and Deng were already inside, blending in with all the residents and waiting for my signal. If anything went wrong with the meet, they’d hopefully pull me out of the mess I made.

I wandered over to the van and slid into the driver’s seat. Diego had left the key fob on the dashboard, but I didn’t start the engine. Instead, I just sat there, staring up at the megabuilding.

“Such a stupid idea. Such a ridiculously dumb plan. It’s needlessly idiotic,” I muttered to myself.

Ivan Vassiliev had given me the name of a politician running for city council: Eva Cole. She was interesting because she was similar to James Franley in her crusade against corporations and gangs in the city. However, unlike Franley, Eva Cole was a realist. She understood the necessity of alliances and was willing to help us if we helped her, which is why I was staring up at the megabuilding, steeling myself to the task ahead.

There were twelve megabuildings in Night City, and most of them were controlled by larger gangs. Valentinos, 6th Street, Tyger Claws, they all had control of one or more of the buildings. But there were three that were controlled by small groups solely interested in maintaining their hold over their own building rather than expanding their territory. My plan was to meet with the gang that controlled Megabuilding H4, and convince them to work for the Eva Cole campaign.

My internal Agent rang and I accepted the call. A small screen popped up in my vision, showing Sandra’s face. She was with Anna, offsite, with her netrunner crew.

“We’ve got all the building’s systems,” said Sandra, her voice calm and collected. “All the cameras, the elevators, and the security systems are ours. Nobody’s doing shit without our say-so. We can shut down everything on our signal.”

“Good. That’s good,” I replied, taking a deep breath. “I’ll be inside in a minute. Anna’s there with you, and I’ll probably call her when I get inside. She’ll relay any instructions.”

Sandra nodded and the call ended, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a brief moment. I took a breathe and then activated my behavioral face implant, feeling the familiar tingle as it reshaped my features. My disguise today was a random guy I’d talked with in a coffee shop in Arroyo. Average height, nondescript brown hair, a forgettable face – the perfect disguise for blending in.

I started up the engine of the van and drove into the garage of the megabuilding, navigating the narrow ramps and dimly lit interior. Megabuilding garages in Night City came in two types. The first was a separate structure that was connected to the megabuilding by a walkway or a bridge. The second kind – the one that H4 had – was a sprawling garage in a basement of the megabuilding itself.

I drove down a few floors of the garage, scanning the levels, until I found what I was looking for: two randos loitering near the elevator. They were simply hanging around, chatting, and I clocked the pistols tucked into their waistbands. Bingo.

I parked near the elevator, cut the engine, and took a moment to calm my breathing. “Such a stupid idea,” I said as I stepped out of the van.

The two randos noticed me immediately. One of them, a wiry guy with a buzz cut and a smug expression, pushed himself off the wall and smirked as I headed towards the elevator. He had the look of someone ready to flex his authority, eager to push around what he assumed was just another resident of the megabuilding. It was a move meant to assert the power of the gang that controlled the area; the same gang I was there to see.

Before he could open his mouth, I tossed him the key fob for the van. His eyes went wide, and he barely caught the key fob as it almost slipped from his grasp. He looked up at me, confusion and puzzlement written on his face.

“There’re two crates in that van. Get someone to grab them while you take me to your boss,” I commanded.

“What?” The wiry guy looked confused, unsure of what I had just told him to do.

I let out a theatrical sigh, enunciating each word slowly. “Get someone to grab the two crates out of that van there, while you take me to your boss.”

He still didn’t move, just looked over at his buddy, so I snapped my fingers in front of his face to draw his attention. It was one of the most disrespectful things you could do to a person, and I felt horrible while doing it, but I needed the guy to think of me as a corpo asshole. “Tell Jacob that he’s got someone here to see him. Trust me when I say he’ll want to meet with me.”

Reluctantly, he motioned to his buddy to fetch the crates while he led me into the elevator. He slapped a button on the control panel and we were moving. I fixed a bored look on my face, and pretended not to notice the guy shooting me odd looks while we rode the elevator. When we finally got out, I looked around the place to find we were in a massive room in the basement of the megabuilding, filled with members of the small gang lounging on shoddy leather couches and makeshift seating. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and the hum of low conversations. Discarded beer bottles and inhalers for black lace and glitter were everywhere.

The wiry guy led me over to a couch that sat opposite a big pleather chair – probably the “throne” of the gang leader – and moved over to stand against the wall. I made a show of dusting off the seat of the couch before sitting, and waited.

A large, burly man with EMP threading across his face stepped over and sat in the chair opposite me. A quick scan with my Kiroshi’s gave me his name: Jacob Wise; the leader of this megabuilding gang.

“So, you’re the beav who came strolling into my house, demanding a meeting,” he growled.

I held up my finger, signaling patience. “We should wait. It’ll start soon.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell you talking about? What’ll start?”

I ignored his question and sat forward on the couch, maintaining a calm demeanor. “My boss wants a word.”

Jacob scoffed, his irritation growing. “And he sent you? How about we send you back to him in a couple boxes, demand he drags his ass down here to meet us himself.”

“Again, we need to wait,” I reiterated, taking my time to glance around the room. The gang members were starting to take notice of our conversation, their interest piqued by how angry their boss was.

“Yo, bitch, you’re gonna start giving me answers soon or —”

What’s interesting about the behavioral face implant is that you can load up multiple face scans and hotkey them to swap faces on the fly. I didn’t need to switch from random coffee shop guy back to my face and then to a new identity. I could swap directly to the face I’d scanned a few days prior: a homeless man named Charles who hung around the alcove.

Charles was a particularly useful identity for this gig. He didn’t have a SIN or a Night City identification number. He was like me when I first got to the city – completely off the grid and unknown to the NCPD. If any of the gang members in the room had Kiroshi optics with an NCPD database loaded up, their scans of me would simply return and “unknown.”

As I activated my implant and my face morphed into Charles’, all the gang members in the room rocked back in surprise. I closed my eyes and made a quick call to Anna, and when I opened them again, they had the unnatural gold glow of someone using their internal Agent. I leaned back on the shoddy leather couch, draping an ankle over my knee with the casual air of someone who owned the place.

The room fell silent as Jacob and his gang members stared in shock. I heard a few mutter curses and reach for their guns, but no one dared to attack. I locked eyes with Jacob, holding his gaze.

“Mr. Wise.”

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice coming out with a tinge of fear.

“That is not one of the questions you need to concern yourself with right now,” I replied cooly. “What, When, Why, and How. Those are the pertinent questions. Who I am does not matter to you. If I wanted you to know my name, I wouldn’t be using a proxy.”

“Bullshit that’s a proxy,” said Jacob. “I know what a proxy is. They’re just dolls that rich twats puppet. You ain’t a proxy. Proxies don’t chance their faces.”

“Arasaka proxies don’t change their faces,” I said. “Militech proxies don’t change their faces. Mine do.”

I could see it in their faces; the fear and uncertainty. I’d just implied I was more powerful than the two largest corporations in the world. And I proved it by whipping out tech that far outstripped what people thought was capable.

“Why am I using a proxy? Why am I coming to you? Because I am hiring you for a job. You can consider the crates my employee delivered to you as payment for said job.” I motioned towards the crates Jacob’s people had dragged down to the basement. They were from the heist we pulled off against the gunrunners, and I watched one of the gang members cautiously move to the crate and open it. He pulled out a Kyubi assault rifle, and I could see the greed in his eyes and he held it. Two crates of Tsunami guns would make this megabuilding gang one of the most dominant forces in this part of Arroyo.

“When do I want this job performed? Election day, three weeks from now.”

The gang members, who had been visibly unsettled by my appearance, were now regaining their composure. A few walked over to the crate to check the weapons inside, while more started exchanging glances, their nervousness still apparent.

“What do I want you to do?” I began, leaning forward slightly for emphasis. “It’s straightforward. Your gang will vote for Eva Cole. You will ensure the residents of this megabuilding vote for Eva Cole. You will ensure anyone using this building as a polling site will vote for Eva Cole. Complete these tasks, and our contract will be fulfilled. You will be free to do whatever you want with the crates.”

Jacob seemed to regain his confidence as I spoke, and he decided he was done being pushed around. He wanted to reassert his authority and demonstrate he was more than just a guy who could be wowed by fancy tech. He needed his people to see him as someone to be fear and respected, not terrified in the face of an asshole who waltzed into his territory and started making demands.

“You stupid ass,” shouted Jacob, his voice rising with indignation. “We’ve already got the crates. They’re ours now. You ain’t got bargaining power here.”

I could feel the dynamics of the room slowly shift. His gang was finding its backbone again. Sure, they were still unnerved by my changing face and the way I was acting as if they were all beneath me. They were used to dealing with intimidated civilians, not a merc who’d been in a few firefights. That threw them off balance, but they were back to playing the dutiful soldiers. Their boss had started puffing himself up, so they were going to back his play.

“You took the crates?” I asked. “We drove to your megabuilding, handed your man the key fob to the van, and instructed him to retrieve the crates and bring them – along with this proxy – to meet with you. If you interpret following orders as ‘taking’ the crates, then yes, you have taken them from us.”

Noah: cctv

“I would have explained why I have chosen your gang for this job, or why I want you to vote for Eva Cole,” I began, my tone even and measured. “But you decided to waste that question on why I am not afraid of you and your…people.”

I lazily pointed to a massive screen set up in the basement that the gang was using to watch sports. It flicked over to a CCTV feed that cycled through every camera in the megabuilding. The suddenness of it startled the gang, causing several of them to take an instinctive step back.

“What am I looking at?” Jacob asked, a hint of irritation bleeding through in his voice.

I sighed, letting my exasperation show. “If you can’t figure that out, Mr. Wise, then perhaps you’re not the right person for this job.” I saw his jaw clench, but he turned his attention back to the screen, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the footage.

“Where are the badges, Mr. Wise? Where are the NCPD officers who are stationed in every megabuilding? Since you have seized control of this building, have you ever had a day when no cops have patrolled its halls?”

As soon as I asked the question, his gang members searched through the CCTV footage, trying to find any sign of an NCPD uniform. When they didn’t see any, grins spread across their faces. All of them except Jacob’s.

“We told them to take a break. Don’t worry, Mr. Wise. They’ll be back in thirty minutes. What they find in this building is completely up to you. Will they find nothing amiss? Or will they discover that everyone in this megabuilding has perished due to a freak gas leak?”

Noah: fans

At that moment, the low hum of the industrial fans in the room ceased as Sandra cut power to the building’s ventilation system. The sudden silence was deafening. I’m sure, using this room as their base, the gang had long ago grown used to the sound of fans whirling away to the point that the noise had faded away into the background. But now that they were stopped, the silence was like an alarm.

“It will be the top news story tonight,” I continued, my voice steady. “120,000 Night City residents succumb to a gas leak in Megabuilding H4. Video at eleven.”

The weight of my words hung in the air as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. Jacob’s face went pale, his bravado shattered by the realization of the power I wielded.

Of course, it was a fabricated power, but he didn’t need to know that. All the cops in the building had owed Anna and I a bunch of favors, which we cashed in to have them take a quick thirty-minute break. We didn’t have lethal poison to gas an entire megabuilding, nor would we have used it even if we did. It was all a bluff.

One that Jacob refused to call.

He swallowed hard and I saw his eyes dart around the room before finally settling back on me. “What exactly do you want us to do?” His voice lacked the swagger it had held just moments before.

“Someone will be in touch in a week. He will explain how you will get everyone to vote for Eva Cole. We want our candidate in office. And we don’t want news of this meeting to ever leave this room. Ever. This meeting never happened. If we hear anyone say anything otherwise, or ask questions, or make statements, or even think about this meeting and what happened today…I don’t like making threats Mr. Wise. All I will say is 3267 Manzanita Street. 7785 Wollesen Street. 9012 Pacific Boulevard.”

Those were the addresses of Jacob’s parents and the parents of his two lieutenants. I’d had Sandra look them up when I was planning this whole thing. After I rattled them off, I watched their faces go white, the blood draining away as the weight of the threat settled in. The room was dead silent, and I allowed that silence to linger, driving home the seriousness of my words.

“Do we have an understanding?” I asked.

Jacob nodded slowly. “Yea. I understand.”

“Good,” I clapped my hands and rose to leave and found no one blocking my exit. “Enjoy your payment then.”

“What do we say?” Jacob stumbled out, his mouth going dry. “What do we say when someone asks why we’re forcing people to vote for your candidate?”

I turned back and stared at Jacob for a second before answering. “You tell them the truth. You tell them that Eva Cole is the future of Night City, and she will work tirelessly to protect the citizens of this great city from the depravations of powerful corporations and faceless entities.” I gave them my best eerie smile, swapped back to the face of the coffee shop guy, and headed for the elevator.