With a few eddies in hand, Nova stepped out of the building.As he descended, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him.

  "So this is Megabuilding H... figures. No wonder it looked familiar. I wonder if I’ll run into someone I know."

  Not paying much attention, he headed toward a hotdog stand stationed right near the bottom of the elevator.He ordered two, then sat on the stairs nearby while waiting—just another face in the crowd, listening to the city's usual static.

  “Did you hear about the test upgrade from that netrunner tearing up Watson? Word is she cracked an entire megacorp's security grid in under five minutes.”

  “Yeah, those netrunners are getting real crazy. I’m keeping my impnts simple—nothing fshy. In this city, you never know when someone’ll spike you with malware or pnt a tracker.”

  “Don’t even get me started on the cops. They’re more like syndicate muscle than actual w. Last night they almost dumped me in a vault just for being in the wrong alley.”

  “Welcome to Night City, choom. Survival here’s an art form. Anyway, tried those tacos over there? Not bad for street food.”

  “Pretty decent, yeah. Honestly, street food’s the only thing around here that’s not completely fucked.”

  "So... the city really is as fucked up as I thought," Nova muttered to himself.

  Just then, the vendor handed over his order. Nova transferred the eddies with a quick flick.Keeping a low profile and staying out of other people’s messes—that was the rule now.It was the only way to survive here.

  With no real destination in mind, he wandered the streets while eating.He didn’t know anyone. No friends. No contacts. No past.It really did feel like he was born just today.And honestly? Maybe he had been.

  The hotdogs looked good—And damn, they were.

  As Nova approached a dumpster tucked into a narrow alley, he noticed two thugs towering over someone on the ground.

  “Help me! I’ll pay you! I’ve got cyberware—might be worth your time!” the man cried out, panic in his voice.

  Nova licked the st of the grease from his fingers, swallowed his bite, and replied ftly—

  “Sorry, choom. You’re on your own.”

  He turned and walked away, waving zily over his shoulder as a half-hearted goodbye.Behind him, the alley echoed with desperate screams and gunfire.

  "Cyberware, huh? Please. I can make that shit myself."

  After wandering the streets and “witnessing” that murder earlier, curiosity started to gnaw at Nova.If something were to happen to him—even without getting into any shady business—would he be able to defend himself?

  Sure, in his past life he’d practiced Muay Thai now and then, more like a hobby than anything serious. Once, maybe twice a month—barely enough to count. Time had always been tight.

  "I should figure something out... Honestly, I don’t want impnts. Don’t wanna end up as some cyberpsycho. Not even sure how much I could handle.""But... is there a way to make cyberware without actually impnting it?"

  A spark lit up in Nova’s eyes.

  Without wasting another second, he hit up every store he could think of, grabbing anything that looked remotely useful—scraps, tools, microbatteries, coils, salvage tech.He rushed back to the apartment, dropped everything on the floor, and got to work.

  Wires, circuits, metal frames. Chaos.Excitement.

  "I’ll be the Iron Man of Night City," Nova grinned to himself.

  His first project? A glove capable of firing concentrated electromagnetic pulses. The design was solid—elegant, even.When he tested it... it worked.

  But there was a catch.

  All the resources had gone into making just one glove. Not even a full glove—just the damn palm section.The power requirements were insane, and during testing he had shorted out most of the apartment.Melted a desk, fried two shelves, and pretty much torched half the room.

  "Definitely not worth it..."

  "Well, I guess there's no learning without a bit of failure," Nova muttered."Looks like I’ll need to make more eddies this week."

  Nova didn’t own any weapons. Not a bde, not a gun—nothing.All he had was… a whole lot of faith.

  Still, he knew Viktor. The guy wasn’t bad news.There was no real reason to be on high alert—at least not until Monday. He could rest easy for now.

  Laid back on his beat-up couch, arms folded behind his head, he stared at the stained ceiling, lost in thought.

  "Hmm... what the hell am I even gonna do the rest of the week..."

  A long silence.

  "Huuhmm… Meh, sounds like future-me's problem. Time to sleep."