ch-26

Wilson turned around and pulled a Lexington from under the counter, placing it in front of Yogan.

"If you're asking for my recommendation, for self-defense purposes, nothing beats the M-10AF 'Lexington.' Small, lightweight, reliable, and with minimal recoil. Even a complete novice with no prior shooting experience can handle it well after a bit of basic training. And best of all? It's cheap."

"Other than that bunch from 'Budget Firepower' who love to tinker with oddball mods, the Lexington is one of the most affordable pistols you'll find on the market. Because it's so widely used, there's never a shortage of parts and accessories. And if something does break? Super easy to fix. As for its ammo—being a kinetic handgun—the bullets are practically being given away."

"Considering you don't strike me as one of those street pros who obsess over every detail of their weapon's specs, this thing is perfect. All those extras—scopes, extended mags, power triggers—are optional for someone like you. The only upgrade I'd suggest is a muzzle mod. That way, you can convert this little guy into a pseudo-laser gun."

"The whole setup? Barely over 3,000 eurodollars. So, what do you think? Interested?"

Yogan was momentarily stunned. Just then, the system that had accompanied him since his arrival in Night City—usually so quiet it was almost forgettable—suddenly lit up with activity.

[New Module Detected]

[Basic Item Analysis and Manufacturing Function Activated]

Suddenly, the Lexington on the counter displayed every detail in Yogan's vision.

Until now, the system hadn't really shown any absurd capabilities. But this update was unexpected. Next to the Lexington, a red button appeared, flashing the words "Manufacture (Materials Insufficient)."

"If you're still on the fence, we offer trial services," Wilson added, interpreting Yogan's silence as hesitation. "You can head to the back and test a sample in the range."

Yogan snapped back to reality and shook his head. "No need. I'll take it. Sorry—I zoned out for a second."

"Good. Since you're a friend of Jackie's, I'll throw in a free anti-slip grip mat. We also offer custom services. Want to add some decals to your new buddy?"

"No thanks. I like the matte black factory finish on the Lexington."

"Got it. One Lexington with a recoil compensator and an anti-slip grip mat. Give me a sec—I'll get everything ready."

Jackie clapped Yogan on the back. "What's up, choom? What were you lost in thought about?"

"I was wondering if there's any place in Night City where I could buy a small machine tool."

"Machine tool? We're in a gun store, man. Why are you suddenly talking about machine tools? Don't tell me you're thinking of building guns yourself?"

"Why not? From what I've seen, Night City's got a pretty hardcore gun culture."

"You're not wrong—but it's not that simple. Making your own guns isn't illegal. The problem is, every functional gun mechanism out there is patented by some megacorp. If you make a gun for personal use, fine. But the second you try to sell one, the corp lawyers will sniff you out and sue you into the ground."

"You're overthinking it, Jackie. I just want to make a few accessories."

—

Back at his place, Yogan didn't end up finding a small machine tool. But he did manage to snag a second-hand 3D printer for a pretty decent price.

He set the printer aside and immediately began experimenting.

He pulled out a metal statue he'd picked up on the way home. It was solid, and about the same weight as a handgun.

Placing the Lexington he had just bought next to the statue, Yogan noticed the system still showed the red "Manufacture" button. But now, a small line of text appeared underneath: "Lacking High-Polymer Compounds."

He then added a plastic cup next to the statue.

Sure enough, the red button turned white.

Yogan pressed it. The statue and the cup began to melt and merge like modeling clay, shifting form. In no time, an identical Lexington appeared on the table. Leftover scraps of metal and plastic littered the side—residual materials not used in the process.

[Manufacturing Complete]

Yogan picked up the newly manufactured Lexington and racked the slide. The chamber was empty, but the slide moved smoothly. He pulled the trigger.

Click—the firing pin activated cleanly.

Right on cue, the door downstairs opened. V and Veena had just returned from a job. The scent of gunpowder clung to their clothes.

"You're back?"

V looked a bit sulky as she flopped onto the couch. "Yeah."

Yogan turned to Veena. "What's with her?"

Veena hung her cowboy hat on the coat rack and ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

"We picked up a contract job from the NCPD today. They wanted us to bring in a guy who broke parole. The moment he realized who we were, he pulled a gun and started firing. Luckily, we managed to subdue him without getting hurt. But one of his bullets hit V's Nue—right on the slide. Now it's jammed and won't move at all."

Yogan handed the freshly made Lexington to V, who was still sulking on the couch.

"Want to use this one for now?"

"There've been more disappearances in Watson lately. If I take this, what'll you use at night?"

"Don't worry, choomba. I've got another one."

V looked at him suspiciously. "Jackie told me you only bought one gun."

"Seriously? Jackie's turning into a gossip. Reporting on every little thing now?"

"Old Vik wants to run a check-up on you, by the way. Did you go?"

"Of course. All clear. I got this Lexington on the way back from Vik's clinic. Want to inspect it properly?"

In truth, Yogan had just picked up a discarded metal statue on his way back.

V still looked unconvinced but grabbed the gun and started checking it.

As an experienced gun user, the moment she racked the slide, she noticed something was different.

"No way, Yogan. You didn't steal this, did you?"

"Whoa, come on, now. That's a serious accusation!"

"This gun's clearly been precision-tuned. The feel is miles better than any stock Lexington you'd find on the street. This kind of tuning? Not cheap. Could easily cost two or three times more than the gun itself. So tell me straight—where'd you get it?"

"It's nothing like that. I just remembered a few things from my past. Let's just say I 'recreated' the gun from memory. I'll explain everything when the time's right, okay?"

V gave him a long, meaningful look. "Alright, choom. Everyone's got their secrets. If you don't want to talk, I won't push. The gun feels great, though. I'll hang onto it."