Why the hell would Rogue give me something like this? And two of them?!
What, were they on sale at an adult toy store? Buy one, get one free?
It's not like I've been surfing off Fukushima or messing around in Kanagawa.
Where the hell did these two… things come from?
That was Roqi's first reaction—his head full of question marks.
But before his thoughts could spiral too far, an unexpected voice rang out in his mind:
[Unknown device detected. Connect?]
Dun-dun-DONG.
Roqi's face froze. Rogue, watching him, caught it immediately and smirked.
"You heard that voice, didn't you?"
That voice—none other than the mysterious system Roqi had already confessed to Rogue about.
Rokkmann Technologies.
But where had Rogue gotten her hands on one of their devices?
Not that it mattered—Roqi couldn't focus on that now. His attention was glued to the two objects that looked suspiciously like… silicone sandworms.
Last time, the stubby "tubes" had turned out to be high-performance leg augmentations. So with these squirmy-looking things, who knew?
[Connection complete. Welcome to Rokkmann Technologies.]
Sure enough, seconds later, that familiar voice chimed in his head again, filling him with a strange excitement.
Just like before—this was definitely another Rokkmann product.
Once the connection finished, the two devices floated toward Roqi's calves, as if magnetically drawn.
Just like last time.
CLACK-CLACK-CLACK...
With a series of mechanical clicks, the devices latched onto his legs. His older augmentations flickered briefly into view before being replaced.
PSSHHH...
[Rokkmann Tactical Mobility Module: Turbo Jet Boosters T-2j—Applied.]
Turbo. Jet. Boosters?
Roqi just stood there, stunned.
He realized he was getting further and further away from understanding Rokkmann's design philosophy.
On the backs of his calves, a set of mini vector thrusters appeared—each one rotating and adapting with his slightest movement.
"So this is how they install. Fascinating."
Rogue watched with arms crossed, one hand on her chin, clearly intrigued.
This was beyond anything the current era defined as "cyberware." It shattered the assumptions of anyone who saw it.
Just how many secrets were buried in military-grade tech?
No one—not even the military—could say for sure.
But one thing Roqi could say: this would give him a major boost.
Thanks to his earlier augmentations, he could already leap out of low-flying armored airships and land unharmed.
The crazy reverse-thrust effect could hurl him forward at absurd speed in under a second.
In close quarters, enemies would hear a blur of motion—whoosh—then feel a cold blade across their neck before their head even hit the ground.
Now, with turbo jets?
He'd be even faster.
This wasn't just a combat upgrade. In Night City, it meant survival.
Last time, he'd gotten lucky—hijacking a Militech convoy that just so happened to be carrying the first module.
This time was different.
Rogue had handed it to him herself.
Besides Rogue, only Mower knew the full truth. This wasn't some random gift. It was deliberate.
Roqi didn't bother saying thanks. This went beyond gratitude—it was a favor he owed Rogue, big time.
The last time they'd talked about this, Rogue had her people look into Rokkmann. All they uncovered were a few classified Militech files and some highly restricted imports from the south.
Everything else? Wrapped in layers of secrecy and disinformation.
Mower, being familiar with Militech's ways, had explained:
Only the first-hand handlers ever knew what these shipments actually contained. Even those at the drop points just saw crates stamped "TOP SECRET."
"Where did you get this?" Roqi finally asked.
"Where do you think? Militech convoy," Rogue said with a grin. "You really think I flew all the way to the Gulf just to pick it up for you?"
She said it like it was no big deal.
But Roqi knew better.
To crack the Relic and rescue Johnny, Rogue had been investing everything—money, manpower, black-market channels—into gathering rare, often banned tech.
Every convoy hijack carried risk. Getting caught could mean exposure or worse.
And yet, despite everything, she still secured this for him.
"Sis, you sure your boyfriend's okay with you giving me toys like this?"
Roqi smirked, teasing.
"Bro, you sure your girlfriend's cool watching you play with them in front of her?"
Rogue shot back without missing a beat.
He thought calling Johnny her "boyfriend" would fluster her. Nope. The old fox just flipped it on him with lethal sarcasm.
Roqi's journal: Day N of knowing Rogue—still haven't won a single verbal exchange.
Mower, of course, didn't even flinch. She knew the difference between real flirting and friendly banter.
Thanks to advanced biotech, Rogue—once a legend of the 20th century—was now physically and mentally in her early forties.
She wasn't anyone's "mom." She was the damn queen of the Afterlife.
To her, Roqi was just a snot-nosed kid.
"No need to thank me. I just stole it from a corp."
She waved it off—then smiled slyly.
"But… the cost wasn't exactly low."
"W-what cost?"
Roqi flinched. This was a trap.
"The cost of hijacking a convoy, of course," Rogue said smoothly. "Personnel, gear, payouts, risk."
"Took some serious effort to secure that shipment."
The smirk on her lips deepened, eyes narrowed with smug satisfaction.
"But you made it sound easy!"
Roqi was ready to cry.
He should've known. This was classic Rogue—nothing came free.
And now that the augment was installed, there was no going back.
"Sure. I reached in, picked it up with two hands. Easy."
Rogue even laughed at her own deadpan delivery.
Roqi wanted to disappear.
She was the ultimate fixer. She could sell sand in a desert—and somehow make you thank her for it.
"Fine, fine. Just tell me what you want. I'll do it."
Under her death glare, Roqi surrendered.
"Giving up already? I thought you'd cry more."
Rogue giggled.
"Actually, I've changed my mind. How about you just pay me?"
"Come on, Rogue! Do I look like I've got that kind of money?!"
Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Alright, I'm just teasing."
She finally laughed out loud, clearly relieved.
"I was going after that convoy anyway. It was full of high-value black-market gear. I made a profit."
"Then why lie?!"
Roqi almost sobbed.
This woman lived to mess with him.
"But I do have a job for you."
She crossed her legs, shifting into boss mode.
"Not now. Just remember—you owe me a favor."
"I'd rather pay," Roqi muttered darkly.
Rogue's favors weren't measured in eddies. They were worth a hell of a lot more.
Still, she'd never truly screwed him. Whatever this was, it probably wouldn't kill him… probably.
That was one difference between Rogue and other fixers.
Anyone else? You owed them, you paid—cash or sweat.
Rogue? She paid you even while collecting favors.
Only a select few got that kind of treatment.
For her, long-term trust mattered more than short-term gain.
Like she always said:
"Reliability and loyalty—that's the real game."
In Night City, especially in its underworld, the real value wasn't in quick profits—it was in brand-building.
And that was something both Rogue and Emmerick had taught Roqi—how to build your own name.
"Reputation earns revenue." That was the principle.
"But I do have a gig right now," Rogue continued. "A personal one. You can say no."
"Does it have to do with the last job?"
"No," she shook her head. "Told you about it before. Just didn't have time to deal with it then."
She'd been laser-focused on the Relic—hijacking, recruiting, setting up labs.
Johnny was involved, so she couldn't delegate. She had to supervise it all personally.
Now that the plan was finally stable, she could shift focus.
Seeing Roqi hesitate, Rogue spelled it out:
"The Voodoo Boys."
The Voodoo Boys?
What the hell did she want with them?
Roqi blinked. Then it clicked.
So much had happened lately that he'd completely forgotten about those Pacifica cyber-freaks.
Back when he gave Rogue the Relic, she had told them to track down its lead designer—Anders Hellman.
That saga had only just wrapped up.
The Voodoo Boys had dropped off the radar.
They'd hired Evelyn to record Yorinobu Arasaka's penthouse, hoping to plan a heist for the Relic.
But Evelyn got greedy. Tried to cut them out. Found her own buyer.
She knew damn well the Voodoo Boys wouldn't pay her. Probably wouldn't let her live.
She'd also overheard them talking about using Johnny's engram—stored in the Relic—to reach his ex, the AI known as Alt Cunningham.
Rogue? Had no love for Alt.
But what really pissed her off?
That those cyber-freaks wanted to use Johnny.
Their motives. Their reasons. The stakes.
She wanted to know it all.
And then probably kill them.
The only reason she hadn't done it already was that she'd been too busy.
But now?
Now she had time.
"What do you think?" Rogue leaned back on the couch like she was discussing the weather.
"Pacifica needs a good old-fashioned purge."
Roqi met her eyes, glanced at Mower, and nodded.
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🤖💘 MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW? 💘🤖
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Romance is already complicated.
Now add:
🌃 Night City
🦾 Cyberware
🔫 Gunfights
💀 Cyberpsychosis
💥 Property damage
❤️ And a girlfriend who might snap at any moment
Love hurts.
In this case, it might also come with bullets, broken walls, and emergency trauma care.
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🧠 My Cyberpunk 2077 Simulator
🛡️ Star Wars: The Rise of Mandalore
🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
🏰 Game of Thrones: Secrets Beneath the Dreadfort
⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
🌹 R18: Reincarnated in Her World
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