Chapter 3: Nobody
Night City — a neon jungle where ambition burns brighter than the sun, and death hides in every shadow.
Skyscrapers claw at the clouds, glowing with ads, promises, and lies. To the desperate and the hungry, it's a beacon. To the wise, it's a trap.
Kay leaned against a graffiti-tagged wall in Watson, staring at the weather-beaten sign above the door: Puff Bar. It looked like a junkie's last stop, but inside… it was strangely spotless.
He stepped in.
The bar smelled faintly of disinfectant. No customers yet. Just one guy behind the counter — his old contact, Riko Vega.
Riko looked up, then grinned. "You look like shit."
Kay didn't bother responding. His stomach growled loud enough to answer for him.
Without another word, Riko slid a hot bowl across the counter. "Eat up. You haven't had anything since yesterday, right?"
Kay sat down and devoured the food like a man escaping starvation. Every muscle in his body ached from yesterday's chaos. His thoughts drifted back to the run-ins with NCPD, the alley chase, the shouts — and the silence that followed.
He finally spoke. "Riko… know any skilled netrunners around here?"
Riko raised an eyebrow. "A netrunner? You think I got that kind of reach? You'll need a fixer for real talent."
Figures. In his past life, Kay always played Cyberpunk 2077 as a netrunner — quickhacks, memory wipe, system resets. Clean, efficient, deadly. But now? He couldn't even afford a ping.
"Just feels like my brain's got a virus after yesterday," Kay muttered, rubbing his temple.
Riko gave a blank nod, clearly not following.
"Anyway," he added, "you find that thing I asked for?"
"Oh! Yeah, one sec." Riko ducked under the counter and came back with a heavy metal case.
"What's this?" Kay asked.
"Succubus Model II Fully Automatic — Juicer."
Kay nearly choked on his drink. "What the hell would I do with that?!"
Riko scratched his head. "It's not for you. Isa needed a replacement. You told me to keep an eye out, remember? She couldn't afford a new one, so I picked this up second-hand."
Right. Isa. One of the bar's "affiliated employees." Probably a joytoy under Kay's care now.
So... not just the mysterious leader of Destiny Church, but also the manager of a damn joyhouse?
Great.
Soon after, more vagrants filtered in — young punks, patched-up ex-gangers, a few ragged edge-runners. Misfits Kay had unknowingly taken in under this so-called Destiny Church banner.
Seventeen in total.
He scanned their faces. Not a warrior among them. But they looked at him with hope. That scared him more than bullets.
"Riko," Kay said suddenly, voice serious, "I've got something important to ask. You in?"
Riko froze mid-step, sensing the shift in tone. "You saved my life, Kay. Whatever it is, just say it."
Kay looked around the room. "Tell me—do you want to die in some alley? Or be remembered across the whole damn city?"
Silence.
Then suddenly—
"I wanna be famous!" Riko shouted, fists clenched, veins bulging with emotion.
The room ignited.
"Famous!"
"Famous across the world!"
The chant grew louder, rawer. It wasn't just noise — it was hunger.
Kay raised a hand, and the room quieted.
"Then from now on, Riko Vega — you're the leader of Destiny Church."
Riko's jaw dropped. "What?! No way. I can't—"
"You said you'd follow me, right?"
"Yes, but—"
"Relax. I'm not leaving. You want to be famous. I don't. I'll help you from the shadows. But the title? It's yours."
Kay didn't wait for a reply. "Now come on. Show me my workshop."
They stepped out into the hazy sunlight. A few blocks later, they reached a dingy garage.
Inside: spare limbs, wiring, rusty cyberdecks, busted med-tools. All scattered around like a cyber-psychotic's art project.
Kay stood there, unimpressed. "So this is it, huh?"
He waved Riko off. "Go on. You're the leader now. Watch over the crew. I've got work to do."
"Kay... I can't do this."
"You'll learn."
Kay shut the door before Riko could argue.
He slumped into the cracked leather chair, sighing. Alone at last.
Finally. Some peace.
He stared at the cluttered workbench, thoughts already racing.
> Now then… time to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to use this system.
He activated his neural interface. Blue light flickered across his vision. HUD lines formed.
Balance: 3200 eurodollars.
Kay snorted. "Great. Just enough to buy a soda and a loaded gun with no bullets."
> 'You're V, right? I want to hire you to kill Adam Smasher. Budget: 2500 eurodollars.'
> 'Think 3000 is enough to blow up Arasaka Tower?'
He leaned back, rubbing his temples.
Still broke. Still hunted. Still stuck in a city that chews people up and spits them out.
But this time... he wasn't going to die forgotten.