Making It in Night City

The storefront consisted of a metal door and garage entrance. There weren't any markings, which makes sense since most of the profit was business to business. There isn't a need to accommodate walk-in customers, so the business could be simple. 

To the left of the door was a keypad that required fingerprints to open. I put my thumb where it indicated, and after a split second, I heard a clunk come from the door. Giving the door handle a test, I found it unlocked and pushed it open to get inside. The door swung close behind me, and the lights turned on automatically.

The business was really just a glorified warehouse. There was a half partition between the side with the garage door and the side with a regular door. The side with a standard door was roughly a hundred square feet with a desk, filing cabinets, a sofa, and a chair, turning it into a makeshift office. The other side is approximately 400 square feet and was filled with shelves and cardboard boxes.

Suddenly, three text lines popped to the left of my sight.

+NEW JOB

BACK ON YOUR FEET

TRACK YOUR JOBS IN THE JOURNAL

OK... That's new.

Apparently, my system also recognized quests for me to do. Going into my system and opening the Journal function showed my only job listed in Main Jobs.

BACK ON YOUR FEET

• Sell the remainder of your old stock.
• Update your business license to sell ammo legally. (Optional)
• Sell ammo to 10 new customers.

If I focus on the job, an overview shows me the tasks I need to accomplish to complete the job. Currently, there are two that are non-optional and one that is. Since I want to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to myself, I will get the correct business license. I just need to figure out who I need to contact.

Once familiar with the Journal function, I exited the system and started taking stock of what was inside all the boxes. There were currently 13 boxes of various sizes and content. Some had small components like bolts, while others had microchips and PCB boards. All of which I don't know the uses for.

The next few hours were taken up by me spreading all the contents of the boxes out on the floor and taking pictures, and finding the purchase orders for the various items. I then made a spreadsheet of my costs and what I usually sell them for. Going over my business statements, my current stock would take 2-3 months to sell. I can't wait that long, so I'll have to resort to heavy discounts to empty my supply.

I then created a document that had pictures of my stock and new prices on the side. I named the document "Clearance at Dakota's" and sent it to all my business contacts, telling them the sale would start at my physical location at nine. It was now five in the morning, which gave me four hours to tidy up the store and figure out how to legally sell ammo.

I would look for business consultants during breaks between stocking the items on the shelves in the warehouse. Around the time I finished loading the last rack, I found a phone number for someone by the name of Laurent Lawless. A small-time lawyer with an ironic name that specialized in helping small businesses. 

If you are reading this, it means that you are reading a novel stolen from the original author. If this is left in by whoever stole my work, you'll know their a big dummy and didn't recognize the massive out of place blank space as hidden white text. If you want to support me, the original author, and read ahead for free, you can find me on scribblehub under SPS4. 

When my call got picked up, a rectangle popped up in the upper left corner of my view, showing the call was trying to connect. A man in his thirties then popped into the small box.

"Good morning, Sir! This is Laurent Lawless speaking. How can I help you?"

"Good morning Mr. Lawless. I'll keep it short and sweet. I want to get into selling ammunition. Can you help me out? If it makes any difference, I already have a company that imports and sells small parts for cyberware."

"Direct is always best. Already having a legal entity for which we can apply for the correct licenses will make the process much faster. I can have the paperwork ready to sign by Saturday. Sunday at the latest."

It was currently Wednesday, so Sunday is actually a really fast turnaround. It also gives me enough time to gather the supplies, craft ammo, and advertise for my new business.

"Of course, there is a matter of my fee. The standard rate for license application will be E$ 1,250. Payment in full will be required before I start this process for you. You must also send me your business license and proof of your physical address."

"Sounds good, Laurent. I can have the money and documents to you by the end of today. Thanks for your help. Talk to you later."

Once we said our goodbyes, I hung up the call and went to my office. I still had about an hour before opening my store, which hopefully meant I had enough time to figure out an advertisement strategy.

Night City had a lot of guns, which means people in Night City used a lot of bullets. The pro is that it means my potential customer base is enormous. The con is that most of the people using bullets are hardcore Criminals. Since I want to keep a low profile, I'll stick to selling to gun stores for now. Eventually, I want to introduce a bullet vending machine.

To get my business exposure, I decided to resort to the oldest advertisement tactic in the book and send massive waves of spam emails. I found a sketchy advertisement company willing to send a wave of spam emails and robocalls for a measly fee of E$ 1000.

Everything was coming together. All I had to do now was wait another half hour until I could open my clearance sale. I have already received several replies from my old customers showing interest in what I had to sell. Even with the discounts, I should make around 5000 Eurodollars if everything gets sold. More than enough to cover the fees for the license and advertisement agency.

A series of knocks came from my door at a quarter from nine, followed by a gruff voice.

"Hey, Dakota! It's Vic. Saw your email about the clearance sale. Figured you'd be willing to let a neighbor come in a bit early to get first picks. Can you let me in?"

Vic. The favorite ripperdoc of V and the probably dead Jackie. It could be an excellent chance for me to get some intel. Confirm if the events of the game actually happened in this world as well.

"Alright, Vic. Gimme a second."

Getting off my office chair, I walked over and opened the door. On the other side was a carbon copy of the Vic I met in the game. 

Dressed in his signature blue with rolled-up sleeves and a stethoscope around his neck, I couldn't believe I was face-to-face with a fictional character. His 5 o'clock shadow, the tinted glasses, earrings, and tattoos. It was all so... Real. This moment, more than anything else that has happened so far was the most sobering reminder that I was in a different world now.

I managed to break myself out of a trance before it got awkward and invited Vic in.

"Come in, Vic. I'll take you to the shelves. All the prices are still the same as what I sent you. Let me know if you have any questions."

I took Vic to the warehouse section and let him peruse through the stock I had. While I was considering how to approach asking him about the world, Vic spoke first. While inspecting an IEC battery, he turned to me and asked.

"So, Dakota. You disappear on us for a few weeks and come back with a fire sale? Word on the street was that your input broke your heart. How're you holding up?"

There it is. The signature soft heart is hidden behind a gruff exterior. Vic really was always one of my favorite characters in the game. Almost makes me feel bad I have to lie to him about who I am.

"Yeah. After my parents died, I got despondent and locked myself away. My girlfriend tried to help, but it became too much after a while. Don't blame her. I became a real piece of shit."

I leaned against a shelf and told Dakota's story. I didn't like pretending to be someone else and using their tragedy to garner sympathy. But I needed information, and I couldn't just say that my mind had invaded Dakota's body. Please also give me information on V.

"She ran away with someone she met at work to Texas, probably Houston. Things got worse for me afterward. Started drowning myself in drugs and booze. Culminated in cardiac failure yesterday. Trauma Team was able to resuscitate me. Now I'm back with a fresh set of eyes on my situation. Going to start over and turn things around. This is just step one."

Vic put down the battery and turned to look at me. I could see the concern in his eyes while he tried to gauge me and whether or not I was actually alright. After a few seconds, he must have concluded that I could handle myself because he turned around and started looking through my items again.

"Well. It's good that you're back on track. You've always done right by me, and I would hate to lose such a good vendor."

Right. Need to let Vic know I'm changing the business.

"Well, that's the thing, Vic. Changing the business to something completely different. What you're looking through will be the last batch of parts I sell."

Vic took that in and sighed.

"It is what it is. More the reason for me to pick this place clean while I still have the chance, right?"

We talked until other customers started showing up. I also got a good amount of information about this world. Once the other customers began browsing, Vic collected what he wanted and paid me. I insisted on giving him another discount, telling him it was neighbor prices. He tried to reject it, but I told him he should consider it an investment since I was considering getting more implants from him later.

More customers came throughout the day. I chatted them up and tried to connect as much as I could. You know, to seem friendly and all that. I was able to sell the last batch of parts I had by 6pm, and I closed the store. Now it was time to get to the real work.