Chapter 31: Drake

"That's the situation." V gave Takemura Goro a brief rundown of her deal with Mr. Hands and how she ended up here with help from a friend.

Evelyn Parker might still be alive?

For Takemura, that revelation wasn't just a relief—it completed the chain of events. If he presented this to Hanako Arasaka, it could significantly bolster his credibility.

Understanding that, his frustration with V's commands faded. "Next time, tell me what you need ahead of time. I need to prepare," he said flatly.

"With your strength, you still need prep?" V raised a brow. She hadn't fought him before, but she had no doubt she'd lose.

"Most of my cyberware has been disabled by Arasaka. I've lost access to many of my combat functions," Takemura explained. "And I must avoid being seen. Arasaka is still hunting me."

"Got it~ makes sense."

The two parted ways shortly after.

Once Takemura had walked out of sight, Judy, who had been eavesdropping through V's comms, finally spoke up. "Thanks, V~"

When V had relayed the news about Evelyn, she had never mentioned Judy's name—only referring to her as a friend, keeping her out of danger.

"It's nothing. Evelyn knew she was risking her life, and still didn't come to you. I figured the least I could do was not drag you into it."

"You're a good person, V. If Evelyn had trusted you more back then... maybe things would've gone differently," Judy murmured.

V sighed. "There are no 'what ifs' in Night City."

---

"Help! The police are beating people! The police are beating people!"

A red Avenger came to a stop in front of a small food joint. Leon Black reached over and took the fast food bag handed to him by Lena Fox.

Inside was a feast: two Cocolas, an extra-large hot dog, a five-inch pizza, and a small cream cake.

"Night City really is a food desert," Leon grumbled, staring at the same greasy menu they'd had yesterday. He opened the Cocola with a hiss.

"Tonight we'll hit up Little Chinatown and upgrade our meal," Lena said with a hopeful grin.

In truth, they ate far better than the average citizen. Most people lived on nutrient paste, protein cubes, and synthetic food that barely cost twenty eddies a day.

Their little pizza alone cost sixty eddies—and it wasn't even big.

But for now, they made do.

Leon took a big bite of the hot dog, pausing as the savory flavor hit his tongue. "Damn, this is actually good." He glanced at the store sign. "You found this place?"

"Yup~ credit goes to me!" Lena beamed.

"Nice work." He gave her a thumbs-up.

Exploring new eats was their little side quest in daily life, and today's discovery would go straight into their food map.

Happiness doesn't fall from the sky—you have to go find it yourself.

"What's happening over there?" Lena asked, nibbling her cake and pointing across the street.

A man was curled up on the sidewalk, hands over his head, while a massive cop continued to beat him.

"No clue. That big brute didn't say a word—just started swinging. Maybe the guy provoked him?"

"Is he a cop?"

"Looks like it." Leon nodded. "If Richard Night were still alive, stuff like this wouldn't happen. But... let's not get into that."

Richard Night—the dreamer who founded Night City. His goal had been to build a utopia: peaceful, clean, and free from chaos. With the help of major corporations, he started to turn that vision into reality.

The city was even renamed Night City in his honor.

But then came the assassination.

Some blamed political rivals, others suspected a mega-corporation had him killed to gain control of the project. Either way, his dream died with him.

After his death, Night City spiraled into chaos—turf wars, cyberpsychosis, government corruption, corporate domination. It became a tangled mess of alliances, betrayal, and exploitation.

His widow, Miriam Night, tried to carry on his vision through Night Corp. Though no longer as powerful as before, the company still held weight, particularly in controlling the NCPD and funding the elite Psycho Squad, the city's most brutal enforcement unit.

---

"Hey! You kids shouldn't be hanging around this part of town!" River Ward called out.

He had just finished roughing up the scammer and now approached the food stand to grab a drink. Spotting Leon and Lena beside their flashy sports car, he couldn't help but issue a warning.

His voice was stern, but Leon could sense the man's intentions weren't malicious.

"What was that guy's deal?" Leon asked.

"Deadbeat conman," River muttered. "Folks around here are always scheming. They love targeting young rich types like you two."

"We're not that rich," Leon replied with a shrug.

River glanced at the million-eddie sports car under their seats and raised a brow but said nothing.

"Just got lucky," Leon added, seeing the unspoken judgment.

River gave a tired nod. "Just stay sharp. That's all I'm saying."

In this city, betrayal was currency. A heads-up from a stranger was rare kindness.

"Thanks." Leon raised his Cocola in a salute.

As River walked off, Leon stared at the beaten man still nursing his wounds. On impulse, he crossed the street.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"What's it to you, punk?" the man snapped. "I can't fight a cop, but I can flatten you!"

Leon ignored the bluster. "That thing in your hand... is that a Braindance chip?"

The man blinked, taken off guard. Then his tone shifted immediately.

"You looking for something? Something exciting?" He forced a grin. "You came to the right guy! I'm Derek—I've got Braindances of all kinds. I can even customize them for you! Guaranteed to satisfy!"

"Customized?"

Braindance—virtual reality taken to its extreme. Full sensory immersion. The tech let you live someone else's experience.

Want to be a warlord? A rockstar? A harem king? A political assassin? A religious icon? The world of Braindance could fulfill it all.

For many, it was better than drugs—and even cheaper. It made fantasy feel more real than life.

"Yes, yes!" Derek nodded eagerly. "You tell me your dream—I make it real!"

Leon looked him over. "You pitch well." He pulled out a premium cigarette—over ten eddies each—and handed it to him.

Derek's eyes sparkled. He lit it slowly, savoring the luxury.

Then Leon leaned in.

"I need a batch of Braindances. Robbing corporate convoys. Cyberpsychos on the loose. Brutal shootouts with gangs. Real adrenaline, no fakes. Think you can manage that?"

Derek sucked in a sharp breath. This wasn't some bored teenager wanting fantasy escapism. This was a serious job.

To make those kinds of Braindances, someone would have to go out there, record it live—risk life and limb to capture the chaos. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't cheap.

"I don't care how you get it—just make sure it's fresh content." Leon extended his hand. "Fifty thousand per scenario. You in?"

Derek stared at the hand for a moment—then practically jumped forward to shake it with both hands.

"I won't let you down!"

Øóffer going on for diamond tier

pàtreøn (Gk31)