Chapter 1: Just a Gonk in the Mox
The roar of the music hammered through the bar, a chaotic symphony of synth and bass. In the dance pit, bathed in the lurid glow of red and pink lights, bodies writhed and swayed.
Sprawled across faded, grey sofas, several patrons were jacked into braindance rigs. Their mouths hung agape, hands grasping at the air, lost in sensory simulations that were better left undescribed.
The vibrations from the floor above shook the bar's foundation, rattling everything in the basement below.
In a small, cramped storage room, the thumping grew more intense. On a metal shelf, a solid black crate began to vibrate, inching its way forward with every beat.
Soon, it reached the very edge of the shelf.
After one particularly violent tremor...
CLANG!
The crate tipped over, plummeting directly towards the head of a young man sleeping on a cot below. But in a flash, a black baseball bat shot out from the side, intercepting the crate and slamming it against the wall.
The bat retracted. The crate hit the floor with a heavy, muffled thud.
"I'm serious, Rhys, how much longer are you gonna sleep? It's time to work, you gonk," a voice rang out, sharp with annoyance but hiding a smile that was impossible to miss.
"Hnnh?"
A sleepy grunt escaped his throat. Rhys rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up on the narrow cot. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
The storage room was pitch black, save for the faint glow of a nearby electronic switch.
A tall, slender figure stood before him, a silhouette blocking the light from the hallway outside.
Rhys reached out in the dark, fumbling for the light switch as he yawned.
He didn't need to think. There was only one person who would come to wake him up at this hour. It had to be Rita.
"Work? What work? Susan herself told me to get the hell out of the Mox's business and not to cause her any more trouble. A job? I don't think so."
As Rhys spoke, he flipped the switch. The room flooded with light, revealing the figure before him.
She had beautiful pink hair, tied up in two small buns, with long bangs that framed her face. Her features were delicate and stunning, and her skin had the glossy, perfect sheen of synth-flesh, like a high-end doll.
Under the harsh light, her face looked like a porcelain masterpiece. Two thin, black cyber-lines ran down from her nose, separating her upper and lower face like subtle seams.
Rita Wheeler.
Lizzie's Bar security, and the Mox's number one heavy hitter. Right now, she was looking at Rhys with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
She wore a tattered white t-shirt, cropped so high that the perfect, snow-white curves of her breasts were visible. Over it, she had on a short black jacket, paired with tight black pants. She casually tossed a baseball bat from one hand to the other.
"Alright, cut the crap. I don't have time to get in the middle of your drama with Susan. This is from Korna. She's the one telling you to get to your post. Look, you can ignore Susan, but are you really gonna ignore her?"
Hearing Rita drop Korna's name, Rhys sighed and ran a hand through his own smooth, black hair. He gathered the shoulder-length strands and tied them up.
A handsome, clean-cut face was revealed in the light.
It was an organic face, with no visible signs of cybernetic implants.
But as Rhys turned his head away from Rita, a small data port was visible just behind his left ear, partially hidden by a few stray locks of hair.
The moment Rhys's pupils glowed with a yellow light, Rita spoke again.
"What, you don't believe me? Shit, Korna-san is upstairs right now. You want to go tell her yourself?"
Rhys, who was about to make a call, froze instantly. His voice was laced with annoyance. "What's she doing here?"
"Why else would she be here, if not to see you? And hey, don't bitch at me. I'm not the boss," Rita said with a shrug and a roll of her pretty eyes.
Rhys leaned back on the cot, his hands supporting him, and gave Rita a lazy look. "Susan told me to lay low for a while. Said the Tyger Claws are looking for me. If I go up there now, won't that cause 'you guys' a problem?"
He put a special emphasis on the words "you guys."
"This is our turf, Rhys. Get it? Our turf," Rita shot back, her tone hardening.
Rhys scoffed. "Yeah, but she said, 'Who the fuck is we with you?'"
Seeing his expression, Rita looked helpless. "You know how Susan gets. She was just angry. The things she said... they sound bad, I know, but you really did cross the line this time."
"Those Tyger Claw bastards are scum, every last one of them acts like their mom just flatlined. But that deal was legit. The girls knew what they were signing up for, they were prepared for some damage, as long as it was within the agreed-upon limits..."
Rita's voice trailed off, eventually fading into silence.
"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" Rhys stared at her, a cold smirk on his face.
"..."
"You were right, okay? I know it, and Susan knows it too. But Rhys... we can't. We just can't. We can't be the ones to start a war with the Tyger Claws."
"The Mox don't have that kind of muscle. We're surviving in the cracks, choom. We can't afford to pick a fight with anyone." Rita sighed, resting her bat against her leg and reaching out to touch Rhys's head.
He didn't pull away, letting her hand rest on his hair.
Gently stroking his black hair, Rita's voice softened. "I know you were protecting the girls, protecting us. You could have left this place a long time ago. But you stayed, to repay the kindness Korna-san showed you..."
"Truth is, we're holding you back. You're more preem than any of us want to admit. If you wanted to be a merc, or even a corpo agent, crews would be lining up to hire you."
"But Rhys, the Tyger Claws are more dangerous than you think. Susan said those things to protect you. Why else would she let you stay at Lizzie's, let you live here?"
"..." Rhys closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle touch of Rita's hand.
He understood all of this. He really did. But there were some things he just couldn't accept.
Shana was a doll, a lowlife from the gutter, sure. But she was also his friend.
When Korna had first taken him in, Shana had looked out for him. He wasn't about to stand by and watch her get hurt.
And because of that, Rhys had caused trouble. Trouble for the Mox.
"Fuck Night City. And fuck the Tyger Claws," Rhys said, shaking his head and opening his eyes.
Rita pulled her hand back. Seeing Rhys, who rarely cursed, actually swear, she blinked. A small smile played on her lips as she spoke in a teasing, gentle tone, "Feeling better now?"
She knew Rhys well.
Unlike most people, when Rhys cursed, it wasn't because he was exploding with anger. It was the opposite. It was a sign that he'd thought things through, a frustrated sigh at a world he couldn't change.
"How could I not be pissed? Those Tyger Claw scumbags were looking for trouble! The Dollhouse Protocols are clear: when the safeword is used, the client has to stop to ensure the safety of both parties."
"But what did they do? If I hadn't gotten in there when I did, those three animals would have torn Shana apart!"
"But in the end, you're the one who tore them apart, right? That chrome you stripped off them was worth a lot of eddies. Susan might yell at you, but she sold all that ware and put the money in an account for you."
Rita grinned, leaning down to give Rhys a quick hug. She stood back up and said:
"Alright, our little bodyguard. It's really time for your shift. Susan saw me come down here. She didn't say anything, just gave me a death glare. I don't need to make any more excuses for her, do I?"
"I get it. I'll change and be right up," Rhys said softly, patting Rita on the back. The synth-leather of her jacket felt as smooth as silk.
Rita nodded. As she left, she added, "Hurry up, then. I've gotta get back to my post before some gonk decides to cause trouble."
After Rita was gone, Rhys took a deep breath.
Then, in his mind, he whispered: Open mission interface.
The next moment, a holographic, black-and-red menu materialized in front of him.
[Accept new gig from Rita Wheeler (Security)?]
[ACCEPT / DECLINE]
Rhys selected ACCEPT.
[Gig Accepted: Security]
[Security]
Threat Level: None
Objective: Fulfill Rita Wheeler's request. Protect Lizzie's Bar from any disturbances tonight.
Reward: +0.05 to a random attribute.
Rhys closed the mission log and opened another window.
[Name: Rhys]
Body: 9.05
Reflexes: 8.06
Technical Ability: 9.02
Intelligence: 4.1
Cool: 8.2
Looking at his stats, Rhys clenched his fists.
His body was only fitted with a few basic implants.
According to the logic of the world he was in, his current reflexes were already in the upper tier for a normal human. That meant his body could handle a lot more chrome.
But the Mox were just too damn poor... they didn't have the spare eddies to spend on upgrading him. The good news was, Rhys didn't need chrome to get stronger.
It was because of this interface that he'd been able to grow. Right now, his Body attribute was at 9.
In the game, installing epic-tier Gorilla Arms only gave you a +4 bonus to Body. But Rhys, with his almost entirely organic body, was already close to 10.
What was the Body attribute for an average person again?
Oh, right. 3.
A Body of 10 was enough to rip open a locked alloy door with your bare hands. V did that all the time in the game, right? Tearing open steel doors and shit.
After checking his stats, Rhys stood up and grabbed his clothes from a nearby shelf.
He pulled on a blue bomber jacket and walked out of the small storage room.
It had been... five years since he'd arrived in this world.
That's right. Rhys had gotten hit by a truck. Just like in all the old stories, a big rig came screaming down the road, and the next thing he knew, he was forcibly transmigrated to another world. A world from a game called... Cyberpunk 2077.
A world that was complex, dangerous, and yet filled with a strange, uncompromising romance.
He stood up, pulled on his boots, and got ready for work. His job was simple. He was a bartender, a waiter, a bouncer... just a gonk in the Mox, doing a bit of everything.