Friday Night Firefight: A Cyberpunk Isekai

I jimmied open the lock on the metal gate and strolled through the back alley towards Vik’s clinic. Sure, I could have gone through the front entrance at Misty’s Esoterica and let Vik know I was stopping by, but I was too jittery with excitement after my talk with Indrajit about the whole ‘domino mask’ thing. I knew exactly where one was and if I could get my hands on it, I could solve all my privacy problems. I didn’t want my introduction to Misty to be overshadowed by my thoughts about stealing the ‘domino mask.’ I quietly made a note to introduce myself to her the next time I visited the clinic, and made my way down the steps to the metal gate in front of Vik’s.

“Vik, you spry old ripper, I need some help,” I announced as I opened the gate and slipped inside. Vik wasn’t lounging by his desk, watching old boxing fights, waiting for clients. I scanned the room, trying to see where he was, and noticed him hovering over one of the clinic’s chairs. I opened my mouth to say something when I realized he was giving me the evil eye. My gaze swept to the chair and noticed he was with a client who was conked out, undergoing surgery. My eyes moved from the client to Vik, who was shooting me a withering glance. He jerked his head towards the entrance of the clinic, and I stumbled out an apology and an ‘I’ll wait outside’ before fleeing the clinic and shutting the gate behind me.

My embarrassment led me upstairs into Misty’s Esoterica where I made an appointment to meet up with Vik the next morning. It was another reminder of the clear differences between the game and the real world. Vik had other clients. I couldn’t just stroll into his clinic expecting him to be free. As Misty entered my appointment into her computer, I tried convincing myself that Vik wouldn’t hold my barging into his business against me.

I woke early the next morning and headed over to Misty’s, where she greeted me with a cold, “Dr. Vektor will see you now.” Great. Even the normally sweet and kind Misty was peeved about my error yesterday. What was Vik going to say about it?

“Hey Vik. Sorry about yesterday. I was…I was really excited and wanted to ask a few questions.”

Vik looked at me with a mix of disappointment and resignation before he sighed. “It’s alright, kid. Just don’t let it happen again.” I breathed out a sigh of relief but still sported a hangdog look. Sure, he had accepted my apology, but was that enough? “So, what did you want to ask me about?”

“Cyberware. When it gets shipped to a ripper, how—” I paused. Vik was an experienced ripper who often worked with mercs. He wouldn’t bat his eye at a little bit of crime, right? I was nervous about prying the information I needed out of him. “Is there a way to track where cyberware is?”

He gave me a puzzled look, waiting for clarification.

“If you lost some cyberware, could you track it? Could you find where it went?”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. “You’re thinking about RFID chips.”

He disappeared into the back of the clinic and returned a couple minutes later holding a case I recognized from when he sold me a pair of optics. “Cyberware comes in packaging fitted with RFID tags. When I get a shipment in, I scan the tag and update my inventory. My computer lets me know what I have in stock.”

He handed the optics case to me and pointed to where the RFID chip was embedded in the case. “If that thing went missing, I could track the tag and send someone after it.”

I smiled up at him, my mind brimming with ideas. RFID tags weren’t new technology. I knew exactly how to counter them. “Vik, you wouldn’t happen to have some extra packaging I could buy off you, would you?” I asked, holding up the optics case.

The best place to hide in Night City is in plain sight. Lurking in an alleyway, trying to blend in with the shadows while scoping out a target, does nothing but put a giant neon sign above your head with the words ‘this guy is up to no good.’

Night City was a dangerous place filled with dangerous people. Everyone who lived there was inherently suspicious. You kinda had to be to survive in a city packed with corrupt cops, heavily armed gangs, murderous corporations, and cyberpsychos loaded up with military-grade hardware. If a random guy in Night City saw a person trying too hard to not get noticed, they’d immediately be on high alert.

That’s why I was posted up next to a Buck-a-Slice, trying to stomach a slice of their so-called “pizza.” The memory of V claiming Buck-a-Slice pizza shared its DNA with cardboard popped into my head as I chewed. It was disgusting and had almost no redeemable qualities beyond being slightly warm and technically edible, but I needed a good cover which meant I kept trying to force it down while waiting for my target to finally show.

As I struggled not to gag, a car glided through the street and parked across from the Buck-a-Slice. I tossed a quick scan at the driver and then glanced away. James Speil. Buck-a-Slice delivery driver, owner of a Makigai MaiMai, and latest victim of Noah Batty.

I smiled as I watched him cross the street and walk into the store to pick up his latest delivery. He hadn’t even glanced my way as he brushed past. This was almost too easy. I stepped away from the wall, tossed the rest of the unfinished slice in the trash, and leisurely walked towards his MaiMai.

Stealing cars in Night City was nothing like I imagined. Almost every car in the city was equipped with something like LoJack. The only way to break in was either having a netrunner breach the system security or possessing a key for the LoJack device. I figured El Capitan used the key method in the game for all his carjacking missions. As a fixer, it made sense that he’d have contacts among car security companies. They could feed him all the necessary information for how to shut off the car alarms and let V jack any ride in the city.

Thankfully, I didn’t need anything special for James Speil’s MaiMai.

I pinged the car and quickly identified the small LoJack system attached to the engine. Its sole purpose was to scan the surroundings for a key fob, and if it didn’t detect one, it would send a message to James’ internal Agent the moment the car started. While the LoJack wouldn’t stop me from breaking into the car, it would let James know someone was attempting to steal his ride. I tossed a small program I’d bought from Yoko at the security system, resetting the MaiMai’s key fob to one I had picked up from the Roundabout.

The LoJack scanned for a key fob, found mine sitting in my pocket, and unlocked its doors to me. Just like that, I was the proud owner of a used and run-down MaiMai. I walked to the driver’s side door, popped it open, and took off. A few minutes later, I was on the highway, blending in with the rest of the day’s traffic on my way out to the airport.

This was the third and final vehicle I had stolen over the course of the week. As I drove down the highway with Morro Rock Radio blasting from the speakers, I could feel some of the tension I had been carrying slowly start to melt away. It had been a little over a week since Regina called me, triggering my anxiety about my lack of anonymity. A week filled with intense activity on my part.

I had come up with a plan to further hide my identity from any prying fixers, but it required a lengthy setup period. Unlike V, who could stroll onto a job site, eliminate everyone, and snatch whatever needed taking, I had a lot more limitations. Any gig I tried to pull had to be intricately planned to compensate for my general lack of skills and limited cyberware.

The MaiMai was one of the three vehicles integral to my plan to steal the ‘domino mask.’ Earlier in the week I had jacked a small bike and driven it out to the badlands, where I left it under some shrubs about a mile from the rear of the Dogtown stadium. Then there was the Tashigi I picked up from a worksite, which I parked in an abandoned garage out in Rocky Ridge. James Speil’s MaiMai was destined for the long-term parking lot at the Night City International and Translunar Spaceport.

A couple hours later, with the MaiMai safely tucked away, I was back in Watson at the Roundabout, ready to do some last-minute shopping.

My first stop was Frank’s kiosk, where I visited one of the first vendors I had developed a relationship with. A few days ago, I had described to him what I needed and dumped a bunch of eddies in his lap. After Vik told me about the RFID tags on cyberware packaging, I convinced Frank into making me a duffle bag with a makeshift Faraday cage sewn into the lining. I stopped by his kiosk, and he handed me a large black duffel. After a quick once over, and seeing it was exactly what I needed, I flicked a few more eddies Frank’s way.

I hit up a few more vendors around the Roundabout, spreading out my purchases between a few tables. I bought a can of paint thinner, a jumpsuit matching the colors of a maintenance company that worked in Dogtown, and a bundle of old sheets and towels to stuff the duffel bag, making it look full so no one would question why I was carrying around a nearly empty pack.

With my duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I finally stopped in at Yoko’s netrunner café. When she saw me, she disappeared into the back of her shop for a couple minutes before returning with three shards that she splayed out on the counter.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with some quickhacks?” she asked as I picked up the shards and slotted them in my neuroport, checking to ensure they were what I had ordered. “I’ve got some short circuits around here. You never know when you’re gonna face a borged-out merc that can be shocked into submission.”

I shook my head. “This’ll be it for today. Next time I stop by I’ll probably take you up on the offer though.”

I was seriously lacking in offensive firepower, not having replaced the gun I lost to Dennis. But I planned to focus on stealth and subterfuge during this gig. If I looked like a dangerous merc walking around with all sorts of guns and gear hanging off me, that could backfire and make everything much more difficult. And while I could hide a quickhack much easier than a gun, something that Deng had once told me had finally seeped into my head: a weapon you’ve never trained with was worse than no weapon at all.

Quickhacks had to be different in the real world from the video game, right? If I tried to get into a fight and toss out a quickhack, and it backfired or made me go internal or dozens of other worse-case scenarios, I’d be dead in an instant. I made a note to myself to get a quickhack once I finished with this gig, and start actually training with them, but for now the three shards I bought from Yoko would have to be enough.

One was a worm that Yoko assured me was the stealthiest she had. Another shard was a program that could instantly brick any computer I slotted it into. The third shard was simple information that Yoko was able to snag. If everything went according to plan, those three shards would be all the weapons I needed.

I left Yoko’s with a wave goodbye and headed off to a small shopping center a few blocks away. A key part of my plan required someone who could smuggle me into Dogtown, and at the beginning of the week I had no clue how to find someone like that.

Smuggling someone into Dogtown was relatively rare. The place was supposed to be a black-market capitalist utopia. For the market to be effective, it needed consumers. Barghest, the gang controlling Dogtown, made it relatively easy to get a pass to slip in and out of the area. You’d flick them some eddies, they’d scan your vehicle, and you’d be waved through the gates. Barghest didn’t care what business you were doing in Dogtown as long as you spent your money and didn’t try and shoot up the neighborhood.

But that isn’t to say there was no smuggling going on. There were a few people running away from Night City who didn’t want to flee to the rest of the country. The lost and desperate souls of the city found that if you wanted to hide from your problems but didn’t have the eddies to get lost overseas, it was easy to flee to the Longshore Stacks. I just needed to find someone who dealt with those lost and desperate people.

I asked around and, to my total lack of surprise, found that Fred was friendly with a guy who could help me out. Fred seemed to know everyone in Watson, so when I asked him about smuggling myself into Dogtown, he gave me the contact info of a guy named Daron.

I found Daron hanging around a shopping center near the Roundabout. Just by the way he was dressed I could tell he was a Nomad. He had the whole biker caught in a post-apocalyptic world look down pat: dusty black leather sleeveless vest, dirty cargo pants with black leather boots, and a gun holstered at his side. I crossed through the market towards him, did a quick scan to confirm he was the right person, and introduced myself.

“Did Fred tell you how this whole thing would go down?” Daron asked.

“He just said he knew someone who could get me into Dogtown. And then he told me to message him once I got inside.”

Daron nodded appreciatively. “Good. That’s what I tell people to do. You need a friend on the outside to make sure you got into Dogtown and I didn’t just kidnap you and sell you off to the Scavs.”

He guided us out of the market towards his truck. “Price is 1,000 eddies. Half now, then I drive you to meet my contact. He takes you the rest of the way through to Dogtown, and you pay him the 500 eddies when you’re free and clear. Make sure you message Fred once you get away from them.”

I nodded and climbed into his truck. He drove us through Kabuki in the direction of Pacifica before asking, “you got iron?”

“Uh, no. Do I need some?” I asked.

Daron shrugged. “Normally I don’t tell people their business, but Dogtown is a combat zone. It’s always good to be prepared.”

My nervousness about heading into Dogtown contrasted with Daron’s relative quiet calm. He was silent as we made our way towards Pacifica, while I tried to fill the silence by chattering away a mile a minute. It was one thing to hide out onto of a warehouse roof and steal a couple of vans, but I was headed into the roughest neighborhood in Night City, a place filled with ‘roided-up Barghest soldiers and cyberpsychos. My nerves were getting the best of me, and my constant babbling showed it.

As we got closer to Pacifica, Daron opened up a bit and started matching my energy. I learned that he used to ride with a Nomad clan in the Snake Nation and had worked with Barghest to smuggle the weapons they made all throughout the NUSA. When Daron got into a tiff with the leader of the clan, he decided to leave and settle in Night City and used his contacts with Barghest to finagle an introduction to one of their lieutenants.

Ross Ulmer was high up in the Barghest hierarchy, but he thought they were too stingy with eddies for the soldiers. So, he gathered a few trusted members around him and started his own side hustle of smuggling weapons out of, and people into, Dogtown.

We parked outside of a 2nd Amendment store in Pacifica, and Daron led me down some stairs to a large garage door. I saw his eyes glow golden for a brief moment before the garage door rolled up, revealing my first Barghest goon. Flashes of neon green covered almost every soldier in the garage, and they waved us into a large room before closing the gate behind us.

My eyes settled on a guy decked out in military-style equipment standing off to the side, and I guessed he was Ross Ulmer. He motioned Daron and me closer, staring at me as I walked over to him.

“This him?” he asked Daron.

Daron nodded. “One for the Longshore Stacks.”

“You owe me 500 eddies,” he growled at me.

“I do,” I agreed. “Once I’m in Dogtown.”

Ross didn’t move, just glowered at me. I felt the hard stares of the other Barghest soldiers watching our interaction. Finally, Ross cracked a grin and slapped me on the shoulder hard enough to almost topple me over. I broke out into a cold sweat as I felt the mood lighten, the realization that I was surrounded by dangerous men with no means to protect myself settling into my brain. I was such an idiot to not grab the quickhacks and pack a gun. Why did I ever think that was a good idea?

“I love it,” he laughed uproariously and motioned for one of his soldiers to come forward. He was a younger guy, a few years older than me, who looked at Ross with almost worshipful eyes.

“Make sure this kid gets to where he’s going and then collect the fee.” Ross dismissed us with a wave of his hand and then turned back to Daron. “Got a few extra boxes I need moved this month.”

The younger soldier guided me through the garage and into the tunnels under Dogtown. I kept my head on a swivel, trying to keep an eye on every Barghest soldier we passed. When we finally emerged out of the tunnels and I saw Dogtown with my own eyes, I breathed a little easier. I turned back to the younger soldier, flicked him the 500 eddies, and then set off into the night.