After leaving the club, I headed straight to the car and opened the back door. I carefully laid the girl down on the seat and moved to the front.
"Let me tell you something right away stop helping everyone you meet. Trust me, that never ends well. Either you'll get eaten alive, or the ones you're helping will turn on you. I've seen too many good guys end up dead. There's just too many people out there who see sincerity as an opportunity to screw you over pardon my language," my partner said.
"I get it. But I can't just leave things as they are," I replied. Though I wanted to just agree with him, I'd seen worse in my time.
"I'm not saying don't help. Just don't help people like her. She's no better than the guys waving guns around. The difference is, she plays it smarter. First she reels you in, then robs you blind. That's the game they play get caught, game over; get away with it, jackpot," he said.
"Got it," I replied, glancing at her file again. It listed charges like fraud and theft this wasn't her first rodeo.
"So, where'd you serve before this? Word is, you're no rookie, but you act like a fish out of water," said Demian. I figured he meant my reactions to everything happening around us.
"You could say I'm not exactly from your time," I said. Forty years is a long stretch, after all.
"Ah, I get it now. Decided to get yourself a fresh body in your old age and return to the force, huh? Could be. I've heard things were different back then but times change," Todd said.
"Yeah, been a while since I wore the badge," I agreed, going along with his theory.
"Alright. We're almost there. Don't take it the wrong way, but I'm not going in. Not looking to get caught in a firefight. That part of Heywood's crawling with gangs," he said as he pulled up near the rundown streets.
"I understand. I'll take her the rest of the way," I replied. I didn't blame him he was a family man with plans and responsibilities. One wrong move and he could be dead. Cops don't get to relax there's always danger lurking, always a risk of being sent six feet under at any moment.
I opened the door and approached the back seat. Looking down at the helpless girl, I knew I was doing the right thing, even knowing her crimes. Life was easier when I didn't see people's sins before helping them but choosing who to save became that much harder.
I picked her up in my arms and started toward her apartment. A stark contrast from other parts of the city trash littered the streets, walls were covered in graffiti, and most buildings looked like they were one gust of wind away from collapsing. City services clearly didn't come around here. The people I passed looked at me like they were already calculating what my cyberware might fetch on the black market.
Whistle
"Yo, boys, look what we got here a little holiday bonus. What do you think, thirty thousand eddies?" said one of the local scumbags.
"You wanna die today?" I said without hesitation.
"Whoa, easy, man. Just messin' around, right guys?" he said, backing up.
His buddies all chimed in in agreement. They clearly wanted to strip me for parts, but didn't have the balls to try. I kept walking straight at him, and thankfully, he stepped aside. Otherwise, we'd be in a different kind of conversation.
No bullet in my back I'd call that a successful negotiation.
Inside the building, I quickly found the right room. At first, I was about to kick the door down, but decided to ring the bell instead. Maybe she wasn't alone.
A few seconds later, a voice came from behind the door. "What do you want, pig?"
"Does Miranda Hill live here?" I asked.
"Miranda?" A pause, then the sound of locks clicking open. The door swung inward to reveal a young girl with multicolored hair, dressed in a cropped tank top and leather pants.
[image]
(Seven years younger, based on appearance.)
Name: Judy Alvarez
Age: 18
Place of work: Clouds
Occupation: Technician
Criminal record: None
Marital status: Unknown
Recommendation: Do not engage
"Yeah, of course. What happened to her?" she asked. Her voice cracked with panic and fear.
"Nothing serious. She's just asleep. We gave her first aid," I said, staring at her face it felt strangely familiar.
"Thank you... how much do we owe you?" she asked, looking over her friend. The distrust in her tone was hard to miss. Does no one believe in the police anymore?
"Nothing. It's my job," I replied. I heard a soft laugh, but just as I was about to hand Miranda over, I noticed the hesitation in Judy's eyes.
"Could you take her inside? I'm not very strong," she said. Looking her over, I saw she was thi clearly malnourished. Cheap housing, rough neighborhood. Her records didn't list Night City as her home, so she must've come from far away, trying to build a new life here.
"Alright," I said, stepping into the tiny apartment and gently laying her down on a couch that had clearly outlived its prime."Have a good day," I added before turning to leave.
"Wait! Thank you. What's your name?" Judy called after me.
"Matthew Carrington," I replied. As I finally stepped out of that place, I found myself deep in thought. Looking at where some people have to live, I couldn't blame them for the choices they make. Maybe they were good people once, maybe they still believed in something better. But when life corners you, the decisions you're forced to make… they rarely sit well with your conscience. That's the price of freedom those who want it more than others will always take it away.
Out on the street again, I headed toward the police cruiser and noticed there were a lot more people outside now.
"Hey, tin can, I don't like you walking around here like you own the place. This ain't your turf," said the same guy from earlier, but this time his voice carried more confidence.
"You're really gonna risk your life over a few eddies?" I asked him.
"Why not..." he drawled, suddenly swinging at me, only to dart back. "Or maybe not," he added with a smirk.
"Fool," I muttered, grabbing his arm mid-swing.
"Am I?" he sneered. The skin on his arms parted and with a burst of strength that came out of nowhere, he sent me flying, flipping me mid-air before I crashed down.
Body Damage: 2%
My mistake.
Getting to my feet, I activated the weapon recognition module. Immediately, data about his limbs appeared on my display:
Cyberware: Gorilla ArmsAmong the most powerful cybernetic implants. Designed to drastically enhance physical strength.
[image]
Great. So anyone off the street can just have weapons like this? Who needs guns when you can tear a man apart with your bare hands? I'd need to do more research later.
Risk of Armed Conflict: High
A warning flashed on the display as several of the thugs began pulling weapons. Mostly handguns, a couple with assault rifles. I could see all their specs my armor should hold up. I bolted for cover behind a nearby wall.
"Come on, don't hide. You're not getting out of here anyway. Boys, once we sell him, drinks are on me!" the thug laughed, met with cheers. They opened fire instantly. Bullets chipped away at the concrete, debris raining down on me. My options were clear: run or fight.
Jamming my fist into the concrete wall, I barely made a dent. No way I'm scaling up alley's a dead end. More like a decorative pocket than an actual escape route.
I didn't have much: just the pistol I took from that lunatic. Four bullets. Not much but maybe enough. Bracing myself, I dashed out of cover and, under a hail of bullets, locked onto the nearest target. Two clean shots one thug down. I sprinted to him, ripped the pistol from his lifeless hand, and grabbed a magazine just before diving behind a nearby car. Quick return fire a few more thugs dropped.
Body Damage: 34%
A warning blinked my armor had taken a beating. That move cost me. I glanced at the new weapon:
[image]
UnityType: Handgun
Class: Light Pistol
Ammo: 9mm
Magazine: 12/1
Reliable and versatile. Known for ease of use and solid accuracy.
Traits: Moderate damage, good rate of fire, customizable with attachments and optics.
Ammo nearly gone. I swapped magazines and reloaded. Then another icon flashed grenade. Great. They don't realize that the more damaged I am, the less they'll profit from selling me? This feels less like business, more like hatred for the badge. No wonder Todd didn't want to come here.
Rolling out of the blast zone as the grenade detonated, I fired back, dropping targets with precision shots. Then I was behind new cover.
Just thinking about Todd when the sound of sirens tore through the street. A squad car roared in, smashing through the gang with full force, bodies flying as wheels rolled over them.
Thanks, partner. He actually came back risked himself for me, even though we've only known each other a day. No time to waste I had to help him.
Not sparing ammo, I returned fire, carving a path through the chaos, grabbing fallen weapons as I advanced. The firefight escalated quickly. Grenades flew in all directions, and bullets roared through the air like a deadly symphony.
Gradually, I cleared the street of the gang members. A moment later, the final gunshot rang out, signaling the end of the fight. I hurried over to Demyan Todd to check on him. He'd charged in with a patrol car that offered little in the way of protection and was now crouched behind it, returning fire. The car was barely recognizable looked more like a piece of mesh than an actual vehicle. Circling around it, I found my partner mostly intact. I quickly pulled out a Trauma-1 injector and gave him a shot.
"My wife's gonna kill me tonight," Todd muttered with a grin, clutching his bullet-riddled arm.
"Thanks for risking your life for me," I said. I genuinely appreciated what he did, even if I thought it was reckless. After all, I was just a shell he was a living man.
"We're partners," he replied simply. "In the report, say they ambushed us and we had to defend ourselves. Don't mention the girl, or why we were even here. Just routine patrol in Heywood, got it?"
"Got it," I nodded, understanding the need to leave some things out.
"Let's see if the car still runs. If it does, it'll be a miracle," Todd said. I grabbed his arm and helped him up, opened the door, and eased him into the seat. He tried the ignition. Nothing at first. Then, after a few seconds, the dashboard lit up."Alright, looks like we've got power. Grab the repair kit from the trunk and patch up the tires on that side maybe we'll make it back."
I walked to the trunk and pulled out the repair container. The tires were completely shot, and I doubted they could even be fixed. They didn't look like rubber something synthetic, maybe. Interesting. The system showed me how to use the kit, and soon I was watching a black liquid being injected into the tires. Moments later, gel began oozing out of the holes, and the punctured wheels reformed into their proper shape. Now that was a high-tech fix. I repeated the process on the second wheel and got back in the car.
"Hey, can you grab the assault rifles off the bodies?" Todd asked.
"Why?" I replied.
"Because we're about to get hit with a fine so big it'll make your head spin. I've got a guy who'll buy the guns," he said. I figured things in this line of work were rarely simple, so I stepped out, collected the most valuable weapons, and packed them into the trunk. Then I climbed back inside.
"Here's the deal," Todd continued. "I already reported the firefight. Our job now is to get back to base. I told them we're on our way, but first, we need to sell this stuff. So just keep your mouth shut I'll handle everything."
"Understood," I answered.
The car started moving, unsteady at first. The damaged wheels made it wobble, pulling the vehicle to one side. The stabilization system tried to compensate, but didn't do a great job. Hobbling along, we finally reached a car wash with several garage doors. By one of the walls stood a man in a hooded cloak. When he saw us, he knocked on a metal door a few times. A moment later, one of the garage doors began to open.
We drove inside. Everything about the place looked like an ordinary car wash. A cleaning bot started washing the car like nothing unusual was going on. A man approached from behind, popped the trunk, and began unloading the weapons. Todd stared straight ahead. Every part of this place screamed "arms dealing" if you knew what to look for.
After a few minutes, the structure split apart, the garage doors opening to let us out the other side.
"I'll transfer your cut later," Todd said. Looked like this wasn't his first time doing something like this. I figured he was always short on cash, and the job didn't pay enough so he had to run schemes like this just to get by. This probably wasn't the only one, either. There were likely others. Supporting three kids wasn't easy I knew that from experience. The things I'd gone through trying to afford basic stuff...
Somehow, we made it back to the precinct, where both the police captain and the department mechanic were already waiting for us.
"Demyan, you promised you wouldn't wreck my baby again," said Samuel, almost tearfully running his hands over the mutilated car.
Name: Samuel Galavan
Age: 41
Occupation: Heywood District Police
Position: Mechanic
Criminal Record: None
Marital Status: No data
Recommendation: Do not engage
"Sorry, man. You know how it is too many idiots with guns these days," Demyan replied.
"Officers, I'm not even going to ask what the hell you were doing on that street. The rookie? Sure, he doesn't know all the rules yet. But you, Demyan? What were you thinking going in there? Come with me. We'll talk in my office," said the head of our department.
Name: Murphy Jackson
Age: 39
Occupation: Heywood District Police
Position: Captain, Head of the Heywood Division
Criminal Record: None
Marital Status: No data
Recommendation: Do not engage
"Alright," Todd replied and followed the captain inside.
I let my gaze linger for a moment on the mechanic, who was nearly in tears as he stared at the car. He gently stroked the frame, whispering something under his breath. Deciding not to hang around the guy who was clearly obsessed with vehicles, I headed to the ripperdoc. Even though she told me to come by as rarely as possible, I needed repairs.
Structural Damage: 63%
Stopping at the door, I gathered my thoughts, knocked twice, and walked in. Sarah was at her desk, fiddling with some kind of mechanism. She looked up, and displeasure instantly crossed her face.
"You again? I told you to show up here as little as possible and yet here you are, the very next day," Sarah said flatly.
"Couldn't be helped," I said, pointing to my damaged torso.
"Another shootout? Poor Demyan stuck with you as a partner. If I were him, I'd file the paperwork to get you suspended," she muttered, walking over to the operating table and nodding for me to lie down.
"I" I started to speak, but she cut me off with a gesture, pressing her finger to her lips.
"I... don't... care. Now shut up," she said slowly and clearly. I didn't want to start an argument, so I stayed silent and watched as she patched the holes in my body. Her movements were precise. Despite her attitude, her work was professional.
When she finished the repairs, she told me to leave immediately. And I did.
I hadn't expected my first day to be this eventful.