Cyberpunk 2077: Demons of Night City

Kurt Hansen, the one and only ruler of Dogtown, founder of Barghest. A man who's told NUSA and Night City to fuck off plenty of times and somehow still breathes. One look and you could tell his implants were top-of-the-line military-grade. Hansen was both a strategist and a powerhouse. Not only outplanned most of his own guys but could take 'em out in a fight if it came to it. A rare combo.

Sometimes, someone "too good" is real bad news.

With Hansen, that's exactly how it turned out. A brilliant commander in the NUSA forces until he figured out he could do just fine without the stars and stripes on his back — or Myers' hand up his ass.

Hansen's crew moved to the edges of the room, while the boss himself took a slow walk along the couches.

"We get a lot of guests," he said, folding his hands behind his back. "Some we invite; others show up unannounced. Question is, why? Not exactly the place for a view, air quality's shit, and if you believe the news, we're all a bunch of psychos with military toys."

Right. Guess I'm supposed to answer the 'Why?' question. Nice way to skip small talk.

"You've built an extremely efficient — and isolated — structure here, Colonel," I said. "A place where people can handle major deals without too much attention from the big leagues. That's why Dogtown, in its own way, thrives. And it's why plenty of top players would give a lot to infiltrate your isolated setup."

"Good enough as an opening," the Colonel agreed, finally taking a seat a couple of steps away on my left. "Nothing remarkable in what you said, but no wasted words either."

He wasn't really weighing my words; he was testing my nerves. I could feel two of his muscle lurking in the corners. The Black guy must be Murphy, and the other guy… think he's Yuri. Not some low-level thugs. Hansen's most trusted people. Then again, Hansen wouldn't last here without being surrounded by loyal guys.

The door opened again. Two women walked in, dressed in these Egyptian-style wigs and gold shirts with the Eye of Horus on the collarbones. Waitresses. They set down two trays with glasses and poured drinks.

"Welcome, Mr. Price."

Hansen reached out a hand, and a moment later, I felt the steel grip close around my fingers. Oh yeah. Prime cyberware and a whole lot of training. I'd have a long way to go before I reached his level.

"Corpos don't like letting go of people who matter. I hear Arasaka, especially."

"True," I nodded. "Quitting cost me more than just corporate accounts; I lost my left arm. Fortunately, I moved my money early, and found a solid replacement for the flesh and bone."

"Smart play," Jago chimed in for the first time.

"So now it's revenge?" Hansen asked.

"No," I replied. "It's not about revenge. It's survival and freedom. I'd love it if Abernathy could just forget I exist, but the Director's got a hell of a memory."

"Independence has a high price," Hansen noted. "And it's not just about money. We're always searching for a balance. Militech, Arasaka. Push one and the other snaps at your throat."

Hansen raised his glass of whiskey but didn't drink. He looked at me without any visible aggression, calm, yet a shiver ran down my back. Guys like him don't throw out threats for nothing. It's all calm, polite even, then bam, and you've got an extra hole in your skull. Wrong word, too shifty a move — you're done.

"Abernathy's just another corpo bitch," Hansen went on. "Her death might even make things worse. Go after Arasaka, and the rest swarm in after. Hyenas can smell blood."

"They crossed a line," Jago backed me up. "Arasaka and Bennett both."

"So I knew," the Colonel replied coolly. "That's the game. Make 'em feel like they're a step ahead. Abernathy thinks she's paying Chester? Nah. She's paying me."

A chilly, humorless smile crossed the Colonel's face. There wasn't a trace of warmth or laughter in it.

"See how it works, Mr. Price? You want to help people, but they don't need the help."

Shit! So Bennett's a double agent. He'd fully defect only if Hansen died. Right now, he's still in Hansen's control. Not great news for me. Gotta tread carefully to keep these guys from selling me out to my old boss.

"Happy for you," I said without any real cheer, then asked, "Does Chester know Abernathy wanted to take out someone in Barghest?"

"He never said," Hansen answered vaguely.

"He probably kept that part quiet. Definitely did," Jago muttered, frustrated. "I can work with him, but Bennett wants me dea…"

Hansen motioned for him to shut it, and I took that as my cue to speak up again.

"If you were even the intended target, Jago," I dropped a hint, aimed squarely at Hansen. "Double agents, triple agents—Abernathy doesn't care. She'll use whatever she's got to stir up trouble, weaken, and then decapitate her target. Ever heard of the Tibrones cartel? That started the same way—lots of double and triple agents. I was involved in that op. Read all the reports. At first, the cartel bosses thought they had everything under control, but within half a year, a multi-million operation was gone. A double agent might think they're playing it safe, not spilling anything crucial. Doesn't mean they're not already getting used in the dark."

I paused, letting that sink in, but continued before anyone could comment.

"Keeping balance between the big players is critical for you. But Abernathy isn't all of Arasaka. Plenty of high-ups would actually be thrilled to see her gone. Like, for instance…"

I played my trump card, throwing out info I'd pieced together from gutting Fujioka's data. Names, ranks. Fujioka's superiors, and others Abernathy had too much dirt on. Simple conclusion:

"If Susan goes down, you can work out new terms with a weakened counterintel division. On your terms. Plus, take a few steps toward those who'd be glad to see Abernathy gone. I'm not suggesting war with Arasaka. In fact, I'm showing you a chance to get to a better level of cooperation."

That was a damn good way to spin it. And I hadn't even lied, which was rare. Abernathy isn't just my problem.

Becca had been sitting at the other end of the couch the whole time, bobbing her head to some tune her agent was using to drown out the spy chatter. She had no clue that our lives were hanging by a thread.

"Your girl?" Hansen nodded toward Becca.

"More like a friend and bodyguard."

The last word got a chuckle out of Yuri, standing behind me.

"Looks can be deceiving," Jago pointed out.

"She's a better shot than me."

"Odd. We'd heard you'd been part of CorpSec ops," the colonel remarked, casual as anything.

"Yeah. But I was in as a field netrunner," I replied.

They knew even more than I'd expected. I wasn't even trying to build a rep here, yet somehow word still gets around.

"Two months," Hansen said, raising his voice slightly.

"That'll do," I nodded.

"Then we're set." Hansen shook my hand again and stood up. "Jago, handle the details. I've got business waiting."

After the colonel and his bodyguards left, Jago handed me a hundred grand for expenses.

"Just remember the timeline, Mr. Price," he reminded me, tossing in some proverb. "The wisest are the most annoyed by wasted time."

With that and a quick "Good luck," Jago Szabo took off, his bodyguard in tow.

Alright. Budget is a mil. I'm taking 15% plus an equal share. If there's four of us, that's 362.5k. Not bad. I'm holding onto the first hundred for op expenses. The rest get 212.5k each.

I got up from the couch, pacing through the dim, ghostly green-lit room.

"So, choom?" Becca asked, noting that the Bargest top brass had cleared out. "We all set?"

"Yeah. We just scored a big job. Big as the holes in Night City's healthcare budget."

"How much? How much!?" Becca asked, bouncing a bit on the couch.

"A mil."

"Hell yeah!"

Alright… Got the client. Now it's just a matter of planning the hit itself. Though I wouldn't be surprised if Abernathy's more protected now. Jenkins' data might be outdated, but it's still got some gems. The idea of using my unique skills comes to mind—like controlling or proxying one of her trusted people. Driver, guard, maybe even a lover.

"Drinks?" Becca asked.

"Alright," I nodded. "Time to call the crew. Dogtown's in our corner tonight."

If this works out, I'm setting up a permanent pass here. Perfect place to go to ground or pick up black-market tech. Only thing unsettling is the voodoo boys. Though, if I poke around the abandoned Cynosure sites, I could toss them a bone later, too. But first…

I gotta deal with Slider. But it's smarter to figure out who else knows my secret and if he's set any failsafes, like a post-mortem message revealing me to either the voodoo boys or, worse, my team.

No rush. He's still too scared to come at me directly. Just need to avoid potential traps and play nice for now. I'll deal with him later.

For now, it was time to relax. Which we did for most of the night. First, we partied in the VIP room, toasting over and over.

"A toast to the health of the fine, talented woman who's brought us all together today…" I was getting a bit tipsy. "My ex-boss, Susan. She's really gonna need all the health she can get soon."

"Damn…" Panam sighed after the toast. "I'd just promised myself no more termination gigs, but here I am again."

"You could just think of it as cleansing evil from the world," I smirked. "Restoring balance. I could go on for hours listing all the lives that woman's ruined. And I wouldn't cover even half. Abernathy's a walking monument to corporate greed. Still walking, that is. That's what we're fixing."

I could tell Panam had her doubts. She looked between me, Lucy, and the screen showing some neon-baked dancers moving to the beats in Lizzy Wizzy's show.

"Ah… screw it!" she finally said. "Sometimes you take the kind of job you can brag about. Beats smuggling junk tech."

"Just don't brag too loud," I chuckled. "If this goes down, don't boast about it for a few years. Arasaka might not tear up the city for a dead exec, but…"

"Stop nagging, V," Panam replied. "I'm not five. Or even ten."

After celebrating in the room, we headed downstairs, where a crowd of club regulars and party-goers were fully into their decadence. Oddly enough, the crowd here looked even more busted up than in the sleaziest places back in Night City. Where else could you see working girls with half-busted military implants?

You look at someone like that and wonder if they're a washed-up vet from the Unification War or just someone who picked up second-hand implants from an illegal ripper.

Lucy and I danced a bit, then headed back up to the second floor and found ourselves alone in the room again.

"I've still got a few plans for this visit to Dogtown," I admitted.

"Let's hear it."

"First, let me tell you a spooky story—or maybe an urban legend. Years back, Militech built a secret bunker beneath Night City, meant for working with the depths of the Net."

"So it wasn't just Arasaka messing around with that stuff. Not surprised," Lucy replied, sitting on the arm of the couch. "Two mega-corps. Different packaging, same shitty filling."

"It's even more interesting, or rather... scarier than you'd think. The place where you grew up was the height of inhumanity, but Militech went even further, risking the very existence of the human race. They weren't just digging for data in the deep Net. They wanted to create a weapon that could rival nuclear power."

Lucy looked like she wanted to say something, but ended up just shaking her head, downing her tequila in one go.

"They were catching rogue AIs, trying to cage them. Control them. And, like every horror story, something went wrong. Twice, actually. One dose of virtual ass-kicking wasn't enough, so recently they tried again. Same results. The bunker was sealed and left to rust."

"Did you learn this at work, or did you dig it up yourself?"

"Some at work, some on my own," I lied.

"And you plan on going there, V?"

"The Voodoo Boys really want it. They know a bit about my... unique abilities. That's just how things turned out. Now they think the AI jammed in my head could be the key to Militech's secrets and the old Net."

Lucy wasn't loving the idea.

"The suits failed twice, and you think you'll manage?" she asked.

"I'm not aiming to build a superweapon. I just want to collect some tech samples."

If I looked into the future, I'd remember that Cynosure had documentation for crafting unique gear. But this time, I had some extra tricks up my sleeve. Maybe I could grab more than just a cool gun with AI or a cyberdeck made for breaking the Blackwall.

"It's just a heist, Lucy. What's wrong with stealing from the corps?"

"You want to break into a haunted house, V," she answered. "Only these ghosts are real. I know what they're capable of."

"It'll be fine," I smirked. "Like in those old horror flicks, we'll bring a case of booze and party hard. Graduation night out of Arasaka."

Нет лучшего места, когда выпускной на носу у костра под гитару

Чем заброшенный, проклятый ведьмой, домик в лесу на озере старом

Lucy didn't seem to find it funny. I noticed her empty glass shaking a bit in her hand. She must've been picturing an abandoned mansion with rotten walls, phantom hands reaching out, a monster coming for a terrified little girl.

"We'll be careful," I reassured her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "We can handle it. I'll go alone into the complex. You know my resistance to Net attacks. I won't dig too deep. Just scoping out the place."

But this time, my sweet-talking wasn't working. She pulled back slightly and asked me, "How long are we gonna walk this line before we fall?"

"What's your alternative?"

"V... Before I met you, I didn't have much choice," she answered, turning to look me in the eyes. "Hiding, stealing, and playing street games around Night City. But you showed me another level. We're balancing on the edge of a skyscraper now. We're almost reaching for the stars... but then what?"

I got exactly where she was coming from. But Lucy didn't know that for me, there were few places better than the streets of Night City—where missing people aren't really searched for, and I can always satisfy my... unique hunger.

"Good that you're thinking about the future. Really," I said, taking a step back and lighting up a cigarette. "Thinking ahead is smart..."

"Now's where you say, 'but'?"

"Right. But for now, let's focus on the present. Can we agree on that?"

"Maybe you want me to sign a contract too," she replied with a slight smile, pulling out a cigarette herself.

"Only if you insist. I get what you're saying, Lucy. Walking this line forever isn't possible. Sooner or later, you either step back or fall. So let's agree... 2077 is our line. Our year. At the end of the year, when seven flips to eight, we'll have this conversation again. I think my answer will make you happier then."

"Why 2077? You just picked a date, or..."

"Or," I replied. "I've got a little more intel up my sleeve. But not here, not now."

We did set up an anti-surveillance device in the room, but it's always best to be cautious.

"I'll remember that, V," Lucy warned with a grin. "I won't forget, even if all of '77 flies by like that night with Panam, Nash, and the Animals."

"Don't worry. I'll be ready to keep my word. Before diving into Militech's dark secrets, we've got some time. We can rest up, prepare, buy some weapons, update the chrome..."

At that moment, Rebecca walked in, singing something, hugging a big bottle of whiskey.

"Speaking of chrome," I said, turning to Rebecca, "you ever thought about getting a Sandevistan?"