"Goddamn clankers."
A young boy stood by a window, his face wearing a scowl that would shame all other scowls.
"I did not die in a fire just to be put into this goddamn shithole."
The boy complained about his situation for the nth time in his life.
He walked away from the window, letting the sunlight filter into the room once more.
Everything the light touched was awash in the dirty color of Night City smog.
The plain flooring installed in every megabuilding apartment shined in a way that perfectly translated the foulness of stagnant water.
The air in the apartment was plagued with dust, quickly covering the boy's footprints.
"Goddamn ventilation, not even one gonk in the building knows how to fix it."
*Hhggrrrrroooo
A jobless bum had fallen asleep on the couch again. In front of the TV no less.
"Ha! Makes my job so much easier."
The boy knelt down to the bum's neural port, a jerry rigged contraption in hand.
"Now I won't have to deal with the inheritance shit." He muttered to himself.
The boy quickly inserted a wire into the bum's head.
"Your drunk ass can't provide shit no more, not even stats. This is the last thing you're ever gonna give."
He mutters to himself.
The tiny widescreen attached to his custom keyboard displayed a loading bar for the briefest of time.
*ding!
His phone pinged, a new notification for a bank transfer on its screen. A measly thirty thousand eurodollar addition to his bank account.
"Tch! The fuck were you saving for?"
*Hhggruuokk
The bum didn't wake up.
*Thumk Thumk Thumk
The boy walked to the door and opened it.
"Bruce, where's my product?" Some bald man was at the door, his buddies were bald too, all three wore casual clothing. A T-shirt, pants, and common jackets seen everywhere on the streets.
"On the couch, send the scratch and give me the gun now though."
The first bald man nodded, his eyes glowing yellow as Bruce's phone dinged. The woman in the group stepped forward, a Nue held safely in her hands along with three full magazines.
Bruce grabbed the goods, unloading the Nue and ejecting its bullet. He tossed the gun and the magazines into a duffel bag.
"Thanks, have fun lads." Bruce stepped aside to let the scavs into the apartment.
The first scav stood over the couch bum. "You sure his liver will be profitable?"
"I just did diagnostics on him, it's working as intended." Bruce said lazily.
The scav nodded and grabbed the bum before him, his buddies quickly helping out.
"You need me to come with you? Deal with the neighbors?" Bruce offered.
The scav shook his head. "Nah, I've played debt collector enough to roll this."
"Then on you go." Bruce nodded.
He saw the scavs off quickly before checking his phone, simultaneously bringing up his netrunning notes and checking the time.
"Ten minutes. I got time."
Bruce went back to his custom keyboard. It was a strange thing, mechanically it only had space for use with one hand and it had seven inputs per finger. Six would surround his finger and the seventh would require a press. Beneath the keys was a small casing of some black material and under that was a set of straps that would secure the device against his arm.
"Now I gotta find an actual competent deck for this thing."
Bruce plugged the small screen back into the contraption and began to type.
Lines of text passed by on the screen, each one changing colors as he dexterously fiddled with the keyboard. Like the keyboard exercises of his last life the screen showed Bruce what to type, his speed of typing, and errors he's made. The final category being zero for his current session.
Ten minutes went by in a flash, prompting Bruce to unplug the screen and put away his device.
*ding!
His second phone pinged, a notification of bank transfer showing on the screen. Twelve hundred Eurodollars deposited.
Bruce smirked. "They're not fixing the vending machines anytime soon."
It was laughably easy for even fledgling netrunners to skim off the vending machines in a megabuilding. A tutorial level even.
Though, "How much do the corps make off of these if every newbie runner is skimming it?"
A problem for the corps, not him.
Bruce took his devices and an extra filtered mask before leaving the apartment. He looked at the familiar high traffic and invasive smog.
"I still don't get why they have a bigass atrium instead of more housing, the profit margins won't raise themselves." He muttered.
He thought about his words again.
"Actually I think they do."
He took the lift down to the main floor. He'd long since hacked the devices in the elevators into silence.
Looking at the black screens Bruce thought to himself, 'Tedious to keep disabling the elevator TVs.'
*Twing!
||Ground floor||
Bruce stepped out of the elevator, phone in hand, this time the screen split between his study notes and a texting app.
{Yo! WYA?}=Bruce
From the corner next to the elevator a hand reached out to his shoulder.
"Right her-"
On reflex Bruce spun around, dropping his phone and spearing out his left hand to cut the throat. He stopped at the last moment when he recognized the voice.
"Maine?"
"U-uh, y-yeah." The large man spoke.
*mgN He gulped.
His blue eyes were awash with surprise and fear. His forehead was slick with sweat.
"My bad, can't never be too careful here, It's Night City after all."
Bruce moved his hand away from Maine's throat and picked up his phone.
"Anyways, let's go up, I've got some boxes to move."
Maine was silent for a moment before he spoke.
"Yeah, that sounds like a smart move choom choom, but hey."
"Hmm?"
Bruce pressed the button for the lift.
"It's a city of endless opportunity."
Maine was getting more confident in his speech.
"Yeah?"
Bruce raised a brow. 'I don't remember much of this guy's character from the show. Wasn't he just David's father figure?'
Maine's hand twitched, like he wanted to pat Bruce on the back but thought better of it.
"Yeah yeah! Anything you want in this world, riches, fame, wealth, it's all here kid. You just gotta step in and take it!"
Maine had a big smile on his face, like he completely forgot what happened earlier. Though his eyes showed that he was thinking of something else when he looked at Bruce.
'Reminds me of someone.' Maine thought.
*Twing!
"That door over there." Bruce pointed.
"Also, the ventilation is busted so wear this mask." He handed Maine the extra mask he grabbed earlier.
"Thanks kid, why didn't you get it fixed?" Maine affixed the mask to his face.
"Was gonna move out anyways. It's my Eighteenth."
"Preem preem, got any plans for the day?" Maine looked around the room as they entered it.
Dusty, with more spewing from the vent.
Bruce grabbed a box and handed it to Maine. "Besides moving, getting lunch, and paying you I was just gonna study."
"Shiiieeet kid, that's no way to spend your eighteenth! You oughta get to know the neighbors! Hit a club! Hit two! Hang with your buddies!"
At the back of Maine's mind he was getting a really strong thought. 'Who does he remind me of?'
"Maybe." Bruce led Maine out the apartment. walking in a little more silence.
"Say Maine." Bruce spoke.
"Yeah kid?" They had moved to a different lift, this one for the parking structure.
"You look like an edgerunner, like a merc you know? What's up with that?"
Maine was a little confused. 'This kid is really bright, really preem in smarts and can clearly fight.'
"What do you mean?" The elevator was still moving.
"What's a merc doing taking such a small job? It's like two hunded bucks and not really matching your uh, reputation."
Maine hefted his box, readjusting his grip. "Well kid, it's a rest day for me, and I got bored."
That sent Bruce into a short silence. "Fair enough, but we're moving practically across the city, surely you've got a crew to chill out with instead of hauling shit through traffic right?"
"Bah! I need some me time too!" Maine smiled.
"I can't be babysitting all the time, and I need to do something between jobs, you know? Besides, this is how I meet new people, make new friends!"
"Anything is better than a bar or club I suppose." Bruce muttered.
"Don't be so down kiddo, tell you what, I'll introduce you to my crew, we'll grab dinner and get you out of your damn apartment for a while!" Maine tried to lift Bruce up.
"I'm already leaving it for another. This is the car." Bruce popped the trunk of his father's, now his, Mahir Supron.
"Kid, no, Bruce, what kind of car is this?" Maine seemed genuinely confused.
"Mahir Supron." Bruce loaded his box into the trunk as Maine loaded his box.
"No I know that, but why man? There's better and cheaper options, a galena is two k less than, this." Maine seemed to have lost his confidence in Bruce.
"It works, good mileage." Bruce closed the trunk. "Haven't had time to sell it yet."
"Oh phew," Maine sighed in relief, "I was worried for a second there."
"That I had no taste?" Bruce raised a brow and entered the lift again.
Maine followed, "Yeah! That thing's almost as bad as a Mai Mai!"
*Beep ||Going up||
Bruce looked up a bit, his hands behind his head and his elbows out. "A Mai Mai would be funny though, Imagine getting run over by that tiny thing."
Maine gave a look of disgust and despair, "Don't tell me kid."
"Nah, haven't purchased anything yet, if I do I'll be looking for a deleon." Bruce pondered a little more. "If I was comfortable I'd get a sixty six."
Thwap!
Maine couldn't stop himself from slapping Bruce's back this time.
"HA! Now you're talking my language choom! A sixty six is the way to go!"
*Twing!
"Say kid, where's your parents?" Maine asked Bruce.
Bruce smirked "Dead, both of them."
"Oh shi-." Maine was aghast.
"Karma hit them hard. Now I'm free." Bruce opened his apartment door again.
"Oh what?" Maine was confused.
"Ol pa was a violent drunkard. Sweet ma was a scav who died when I was ten." Bruce explained.
Maine lost his voice for the second time in the day.
"We got the weights and clothes earlier, I just need to take the cooking ware and hygiene products. You take those two boxes there." Bruce pointed with his chin.
"What's in these?" Maine asked.
Bruce looked over, "That one's the gym bench, bench presses and the like, the other is for pull ups and whatnot."
"So small?" Maine was surprised by the box sizes, though his gorilla arms couldn't fully wrap around one box per arm; they were small enough for him to hold one in each arm.
"Portable, but an ass to assemble." Bruce nodded. He grabbed a gym bar, "Nearly forgot this."
With one box, one gym bar, and one duffel bag Bruce set off towards the lift once again, followed by Maine with two large boxes.
"Not a lot of traffic today." Maine muttered.
"No," Bruce agreed, "There's usually more but everyone who has a job already left, and everyone who doesn't is probably cooped up watching porn BD's."
He thought a little more, and pressed the lift button. "They might be watching other BD's too, or are already in the atriums, buying shit, hanging about."
"Hah, so boring. Say, what kinda stuff do you scroll?" Maine asked.
Bruce opened the trunk of his supron, sorting his items into the car. "Those boxes go into the backseat, I'm gonna need you to spot for me for lane switching."
"Sure," Maine closed the trunk. "Hey, what's your preference kid? Or do you abstain from BD's too?"
"Too?" Bruce raised a brow.
"You make it sound like you've never been to a club kid, heck I don't even see a neural port on ya." Maine climbed into the front seat.
"Yeah, I don't do BD's, I don't got the material I'd like to have for them." Bruce absentmindedly started the car.
"What do you mean?" Maine asked. "What material?"
Bruce glanced at him. "Shards for which signal is what, what formatting BD's are in, audio systems, visual systems, the works."
"Oh you wanna make the BD's? Ha! When you make your first one kid I wanna have the first scroll!" Maine laughed boisterously, shaking the car a little.
"I'm not so sure about that." Bruce muttered, driving out of the H10 garage.
"Hmm? What'd you say kid?" Maine picked his ear.
"I said it'll be an XBD." Bruce answered louder.
"What the hell?" Maine was caught off guard. "Why?"
Bruce glanced over again, running a red light. "Want to do horror themed stuff."
Maine relaxed in his seat, "That'll be hard kid, but how do you think you're gonna make a horror themed XBD?"
Bruce took a turn, "Gonna find a scav, or gang dude." He put more pressure on the gas. "Some guy who has subordinates." He stopped at the red light and turned towards Maine. "Then I'll slap him with custom quickhacks." Bruce made a few gestures.
*honk
Turning back to the road he drove across the bridge to City Center. "I've had lots of practice with these quickhacks you see. I know enough about how people think to make them act the way I want them to."
Bruce took a left. "Then I swoop in, adding an extra character to the BD's narrative right?"
Maine leaned in, a serious look on his face.
Bruce stopped, there was quite the traffic in City Center today. So he turned to Maine again. "And people are scared of things they don 't know right? So then the guy will be scared first right? Then I do something, say give them a ciggie yeah? Help them light it even, get them calm again yeah?"
"Uh huh." Maine was hooked.
"And you see, if they think it's their thoughts then they'll more likely be chill yeah? So I make em think like, I'm chill with them, and I'll make it so like they never took the ciggie yeah? I'll wipe their memory or something yeah? And let it come back in the same moment when I offer them another cig, but it'll be the first one yeah?"
Bruce moved the car forward.
"So they're thinking, first ciggie from this guy, and then I'll let them realize, that ain't the first ciggie, and I'll offer em a light. Then I'll let them realize I am a little suspicious right?"
Maine shifted in his seat.
"So do they take the ciggie? Do they take the light? And I let them experience the same thing as before with the quickhacks yeah? Their vision will distort a bunch and I'll be like, [do you need a light?] And then, I'll let them realize that they don't know me, like [who is this guy?] yeah?"
Bruce grabbed a can, it was in the cup holders. {Real Water}
He took a swig and continued. "Then I have to make sure that they only see me, or if they see another person that person isn't really all there you know? And I have them stop processing for a moment as I move the lighter around right? So they think they're going psychotic or something crazy is happening yeah? And the ciggie in their hands turns into a gun and they know they gotta shoot me yeah? But they don't get to remember how to do that yup? I don't let them remember, and I just offer the stuff again and they try to stop me from offering again and again until eventually to them my lighter becomes a gun yeah? But they don't get to see the gun right? They just get to see the muzzle flash as their heart goes boom and I like, have them stuck on a few images until they're completely done yeah? Then I just edit the BD and clean up the bits and pieces then I got myself a cool new XBD."
Maine seriously reconsidered his promise to have Bruce leave his apartment for a great outing.
"Is it too late to reconsider taking your first BD?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna get you hooked on fear bro." Bruce said, his words a lot lighter than before.
"Hey the traffic is gonna be a long time, you might as well take a nap, I'll wake you when we get there." Bruce said to Maine.
Maine sighed, "alright then." and he closed his eyes. But internally, 'I don't think I can sleep.'
The ride over was monotonous, it had been four hours since Bruce got up for the morning, three since the scavs took his bum ass father.
Two since he left the garage. Only nine in the morning.
He checked the navigation systems, "Une autre heure, " He looked around, "Mais, pourquoi sont-ils tous ici?"
Bruce checked the navigation again, "Traffic-s all on the big streets, I oughta go local till I get there."
He took the nearest right turn.
Maine was still sleeping.
For the next hour Bruce drove through the streets of Night City, finding a relatively less intense bridge to cross over from City Center to Santo Domingo.
"They really gotta make more bridges." Bruce muttered as he crossed over one. He didn't regret adding time to the drive, who knows what crazy gangoon would start a fight in all that traffic?
"Should I have gone through Heywood?" He muttered as he drove through the Santo Domingo traffic. catching snippets of violence as he passed by.
"No," he kept muttering to himself. "It's denser, got more problems and problem people."
He tapped his wheel with his finger repeatedly, checking the dashboard of the car told him the time, 10:37.
…
…
…
11:30
"Maine, we're here."
From the outside, megabuilding H4 looked much worse than the others.
Its puke yellow-green paint matched well with the polluted air. The sun and the piss colored sky meshed together with the building to bring this dystopia to life.
*GHhrrrrr
He had in fact fallen asleep.
Bruce looked at the view again.
"I could appreciate its artistic value, if I wasn't living in this shithole."
He whacked Maine lightly.
"Huh! Whu!? Oh."
"We've arrived, muscle man, " Bruce pulled his car into the megabuilding's garage.
"Oh, another megabuilding?"
"Yeah, the other shit's more expensive, not to mention smaller and just as shitty."
"So? Which floor did ya get? Higher? Middle? Lower?" Maine seemed excited for Bruce's move in.
"Lower, I looked and there's basically no difference between the levels besides some space and a few counters."
Bruce fiddled with his phone a little bit, one of the alt phones he carried around.
Bruce checked another of his phones. "This is my parking spot, just over there." He muttered.
They dismounted the vehicle and grabbed as much as they could carry.
Bruce with just enough space in his hand for a phone held his hand out towards the elevator.
"What's that you're doing Bruce?" Maine tilted his head at the little man in front of him.
"They don't have my biometrics yet, since I'm 'ganic and all. I gotta use the phone for the first entry and they'll scan me into the system."
*beep!
OoOUOoouugh OoOUOoouugh OoOUOoouugh.
"Porn in public, a classic." Bruce spat.
"I don't even know what the ad is for." Maine said.
"I don't either, could be synthfood, could be actual porn, could be TV, hell it could be a car ad."
Maine shrugged, "It probably works though."
Bruce glanced at him. "The ad or the product?"
Maine grinned, "Never the product, always the ad. Remember those MR STUDD ads a while ago?"
Bruce rolled his eyes. "Not the ads but, " He looked ahead, the elevator still not at the destination. "heard on the NET that they were catastrophically failing."
*Twing!
Bruce hefted his stuff. "Granted that happens with most dick cyberware for anyone that isn't a full borg."
"HA! That's where you're wrong my friend." Maine grinned as they pulled up to Bruce's new apartment.
Bruce glanced over, "Was it so small that you needed a prosthetic?"
Maine tripped, the boxes in his hand falling in front of Bruce's apartment.
*cough *cough
"No no, I know a guy who-"
Bruce smirked, "You helped some guy stress test his new rod?"
Maine tripped again, this time over the boxes and into the opening door of the apartment.
"You're digging holes here Maine, the question is who are they for?"
Bruce walked into the apartment to put his stuff down. Aside from the change in view and a kitchen module installed in place of the desk there was practically no difference from the old one.
"Good thing the vents here work."
Maine rushed to get up and bring his dropped boxes into the room. His laughter growing with each second.
"HaHahahaha kid! You're good at this!"
Bruce smiled. "Yeah, I know."
They unloaded everything they had with them, the gym equipment, the duffel bag of miscellaneous goods, more gym equipment, and Bruce's box of clothes.
Laughing and joking in the meantime.
Bruce checked his phone. 12:15.
"Let's get you lunch Maine." He smirked.
Maine grinned, "Let's see what you like kiddo!"
"I hope you like vegetarian." Bruce completely shattered Maine's expectations. Sending Maine into a state of unresponsiveness.
*Thumk *Thumk *Thumk
"Delivery for Bruce!"
Bruce walked to the door, took the man's bag and handed over a credchip covering the cost of the food.
"Take the eddies off the chip and hand it back." Bruce ordered the delivery boy.
"Yes sir." His soul seems to have been crushed by life in Night City.
What were the contents of this bag?
The same as many restaurant deliveries, slightly better vegetables, not of high quality but they were most certainly vegetables.
Mushrooms as well, for some reason they grow quite well. Finally, flour, real water, and tofu.
"I get that we can't get real meat Maine." Maine was still stun locked.
Bruce continued. "But I refuse to eat synthetic meat substitutes, unless we've achieved fission and fusion I will not touch any lab created meats we, as a species, produce."
Bruce took reasonable portions of mushrooms and cabbage from his bag, putting the rest in the fridge.
He looked at the tofu. "It might not be made the right way, but it's kind of hard to fuck up the tofu."
He took a spattering of seasonings from his duffel bag, chili oil substitute, soy sauce among other things.
"You were free for the whole day right Maine? This cooking might take a while and I doubt traffic will get any better."
Maine, finally out of his stun lock, spoke. "How did you get the protein for all that muscle with a vegetarian diet kid!?"
Bruce smiled and pulled out a plainly labeled tub of powder. "The process they use for the synth-meat leaves a lot of pure protein powder left behind, and I mean like 100% pure protein. It might taste like the worst thing ever but I just mix salt and this protein powder into my workout water bottle."
Maine paled, his eyes staring at the tub as if it gave him flashbacks.
Bruce told himself that he didn't hear Maine say "Never again."
"Don't worry, I won't sprinkle it on the food, I've got tofu for some protein in my regular meals at least."
Bruce was fairly certain that the tofu of this world had a much higher protein content compared to his last life.
He began with the flour and real water, mixing it until he felt it had good consistency.
"30 minutes on the noodles."
Bruce chopped up the vegetables and mushrooms he selected for today's meal.
While waiting for the dough to rest he took his tofu out and submerged it in spices and sauces of his choosing.
He eyeballed all the seasonings, his sought after flavor? "Savory with a hint of sweetness. I think I could've gotten peanuts too."
He forgot to check if peanuts were even available for purchase.
In the pan atop his induction stove he stir fried the vegetables before adding water and his tofu and placing the lid on.
"Low heat and wait on the noodles."
Bruce glanced around his apartment, in the center of the room (Where he put his workout equipment) he saw Maine doing bicep curls.
'I know it's my rest day but, I could do some hanging.'
He walked over to the pull up bar, a timer already set on a phone for his dough.
"What's your PR Maine?"
Maine turned from his workout.
"For what? Bench? Squats?"
Bruce grabbed the pull up bar and hung.
"Both."
Maine stopped to think for a moment, his gorilla arms shifting as he pondered.
"I don't know, with these gorilla arms the theoretical limit is a crapload of tons."
Bruce sensed more.
"But?"
Maine spoke, deep in thought. "My body doesn't have all the required cyber ware to show off all that strength, the cyber-arms come with a limiter based on how much of its strength my body can handle but."
He took a breath.
"It doesn't give me numbers and I've never really tried to test its limits."
The conversation stalled.
"How about you Bruce? What's your PR?"
Bruce grinned, hanging upside down on the bar by his ankles.
"You see all the weight plates I've got here? I've maxed them out years ago."
Maine took stock of the weights. He grinned stupidly.
"Four Oh Five."
A fist bump was exchanged.
"Hell yeah." Bruce said to that.
*Bip bip bipip!
Dropping from the bar Bruce walked over to his noodle dough, chopping it up with years of dexterity training.
Maine, still distracted by the weights, did not notice the speed at which the noodles were prepared.
In a quick few minutes Maine and Bruce were eating a plate of noodles with stir fried vegetables and mushrooms with sweet and savory tofu.
"So, how is vegetarian treating ya?" Bruce raised an eyebrow at Maine.
Maine narrowed his eyes. "It feels, very balanced."
*Crunch
Some of the vegetables weren't completely soggy.
"And it's kind of meaty, without meat if that makes sense."
Bruce smirked for the nth time today, a string of words unsaid flashed by his mind.
"Right, so you said something about a bar?"
Maine grinned, "Hell yeah choom, but we're taking my car."
Stats
STR: 25.2298
DEX : 25.2299
CONST : 35.2999
INT : 27.4277
WIS : 18
CHAR : 15.5156