CYBERPUNK: Travel to 2075

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An Ordinary Day?

"Good morning, Night City!"

As the familiar voice of Night City announcer Stanley echoed through the room, Karl slowly opened his eyes. He glanced around and noticed Oliver and Jack sprawled across the sofa, empty wine bottles scattered on the floor around them. He, on the other hand, was alone on the bed.

"Did we leave the TV on all night?"

Yawning, Karl rubbed his eyes. He hadn't drunk the night before, but he still felt exhausted after such a busy day. While Oliver and Jack drank, Karl had lain down for a quick rest, thinking he'd join them later. Instead, he'd drifted into a deep sleep almost immediately.

"Guess I was more tired than I thought."

Yawning again, Karl decided not to wake Oliver and Jack, who were snoring loudly. He made his way to the bathroom in Oliver's room—which looked just like his own apartment—splashed water on his face, and brushed his teeth with a bit of water, feeling a little more alert.

The water in Night City had a strange smell and could only be used for washing. If you wanted to drink it, you had to buy purified water, which cost more than a bottle of wine. Still, you didn't have much of a choice.

After buying a bottle of purified water from the vending machine in the room—20 eurodollars, the same price as a synthetic rib steak—Karl rinsed his mouth and then gulped the rest of the bottle down.

After draining nearly 300 ml of water, Karl felt like the strange aftertaste from yesterday's food and drinks had finally subsided. He checked his messages but saw that no new tasks had come in from his clients or from Faraday, the fixer.

"What a slow day," Karl muttered. He glanced at Oliver and Jack, still fast asleep, and resisted the urge to wake them by splashing purified water on their faces. Instead, he decided to grab them breakfast. Before leaving, he grabbed his Kenshin pistol.

In Night City, you always had to be prepared.

Heading down to the first floor, Karl stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the food stall he had spotted on his first day in 2075. It looked about the same as before, though the Chinese food had been replaced with Japanese, and the stall now had a new owner. The stalls and the customers, however, remained unchanged.

Like cogs in a machine, if one broke down, it was replaced, ensuring the machine kept running. Karl often wondered when that machine would completely collapse, beyond repair.

At the stall, Karl bought two large sushi platters to go. He also ordered a bowl of ramen—meatless, greasy, and smelling a bit more off than usual. Sitting in his seat, Karl hoped for a peaceful meal.

But Night City had other plans. Before the boss could start cooking, gunfire erupted nearby. This time, though, the stall owner was prepared. The moment the shots rang out, he dropped what he was doing and hid under the table.

"Great," Karl sighed, drawing his Kenshin and looking toward the source of the shots. The last gang that had interrupted his meal—Uzumaki Gang—were now buried in a graveyard somewhere.

As he scanned the area, a stray bullet flew toward him. With a flick of his hand, Karl activated his monomolecular wire, slicing the bullet clean in half.

Karl had seen plenty of Mewtwo samurai slice bullets with their katanas. Compared to them, using a monomolecular wire, combined with his 'parallel military tech' enhancements, made the feat much easier for him. Of course, he wasn't equipped to face machine-gun fire, but deflecting a stray bullet was child's play.

Karl observed the two groups engaged in the shootout. Neither wore any recognizable gang insignias. In other words...

"Street punks who can't even join a proper gang."

Gangs in Night City were selective, and not everyone could get in. These punks were probably so low that even the scavengers wouldn't take them. Killing them wouldn't be worth the ammo.

"This glorious city of lights," Karl muttered, watching the amateurs exchange shots with Lexingtons and cheap, disposable pistols. He felt no desire to engage.

In his peripheral vision, Karl noticed the NCPD had arrived. While the police might not be able to handle the bigger gangs, they had no trouble cracking down on small-timers like these.

"NCPD! On the ground!"

With bravado, the officers pounced on the gangsters, confident in their ability to deal with them. While most of the police carried Lexingtons, there was a notable difference between the NCPD's Lexingtons and the junk these gangsters used. The cops' weapons were custom-modified, firing with a satisfying, sharp crack—reminding Karl of the sound of popcorn popping on the street.

"I haven't had popcorn in a while... should've ordered some when I went to the movies yesterday."

Within minutes, the gangsters were subdued, and just as Karl's bowl of steaming ramen was set before him, the action was over.

Karl glanced around. The stall owner resumed cooking, and the other patrons continued their meals, unfazed by the gunfight. He looked back at the scene of the shootout, less than 100 meters away, then down at his ramen. After a brief pause, he decided it was better not to think too much about it.

Eating was the priority.

"Our brave NCPD officers have successfully quelled yet another threat to Night City's peace!" an official spokesperson broadcasted nearby as Karl slurped down his ramen. The rich broth made his stomach churn.

"Greasy ramen first thing in the morning... not my best idea."

Rubbing his stomach, Karl finished his meal and picked up the sushi bags. As he started to head back, he noticed a man staggering near the NCPD's cordon, behaving oddly. His head was down, his movements jerky.

Karl's thoughts flashed to the news from yesterday.

"The cyberpsycho disappeared before the MaxTac unit could arrive..."

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