May 26, 2075

  “Man, can’t believe I’m spendin’ my birthday like this,” Jackie moaned, “Fuckin’ 28. Well, guess I should be celebratin’ that I didn’t make the 27 Club.”

  “The what, now?” I asked, leaning forward on the barstool.

  “What, you never heard of the 27 Club? Come on. How many famous musicians, actors, writers, – all kicked the bucket at 27. Fuckin’ ominous, is all I’m sayin’.”

  “Man, what is it with you and superstitions like that?”

  Jackie shrugged and finished his plate, with Pepe Najarro coming to collect both our dishes. Perks of being adopted into a Hispanic family – you never go hungry. “Eh, Misty’s got that under lock-and-key,” he elaborated, “But fuck me, I swear, that girl knows more than she lets on. You know how many times I’ve picked her up and she’s just like, ‘So how’s that thing where you met the guy in the place,’ and it’s like, how the fuck’d she know that?”

  “Hah, man, you are so gullible, it’s adorable,” I smiled at him.

  “Hey now, I never judged you for worshippin’ your spirits.”

  “Come on, you gotta admit it is, though! You’re wrapped around her finger so tight I’m shocked it’s still attached and it’s just, like, too precious,” I rested my chin on my palm, “Course, that means you’ll eat anything, long as it’s in the palm of her hand.”

  “Then it’s her fault for makin’ everythin’ taste so good.”

  “Pff, alright, Jack.” What is it about this guy, I swear… Any other dude with this kind of look, and I would've steered well clear of him. Especially considering he was with a group that nearly killed me. I mean, just doing the math - he's a massive, intimidating-looking former cartel member with a hot streak and a pair of gold-plated handguns. But he's also proof that the best miracles come in the most unlikely packages. Whenever I introduce him as my brother to people, they always look at us all cock-eyed for a second. But it's true - he may not be my brother by blood. But he is by something far more meaningful than that.

  “So,” he took a sip of his drink, “How’s work going?”

  “Eh, it’s going. You know I’m not comfortable talking about that.” I never let him on one of my jobs for a reason. Not because I think he's too green for those sensibilities or anything - Hell, he survived the War the same as the rest of us, and he's seen plenty of gang violence. It's hard to top witnessing a man getting his balls melted with a blowtorch. I think that we enjoy seeing each other for what we are now, though, and not what we're like when we're on the job, and I'd rather not ruin that.

  “I swear, this job’s gonna kill you someday…” Jackie sighed. He’s not wrong.

  “Yeah, well, what can you do,” I shrugged, “Everyone’s gotta eat, right? Besides, it’s not like there’s a market overflow for veterans, you know. At least if I stay a CO with Arasaka, I get a nice pay bonus and don’t have to think much about it.”

  “But see, that’s the problem,” he interrupted, “You’re not a doer, you’re a thinker, chica. Can tell these things, you know.”

  “Heh. Oh yeah?” I laughed, “What’re you, Misty all of a sudden?”

  “Hey, all I’m sayin’ is that you talk to yourself a lot. Maybe not out loud, but I saw you sittin’ outside all the time when we was drivin’ through the desert. And know what’s happened to that girl?”

  “She went to war and came back changed?”

  “Nah. Nothin’. Still the same ol’ V I knew back then. Just got your scars all fixed up.”

  “Hah, you flatter me,” I smiled, “It’s cute.” He was definitely better at that than anyone else. He was also really good at scoring ladies with his skills at flattery, then bringing them home and torturing me because it's like, 'How did you get that slice of ass, fucking hell.' Heh… But now he has a very special someone in his corner, and I doubt he'd ever let her go in a million years. Good for him. I cannot stop smiling every time they hang out, they're too adorable together.

  “I’m serious, man!” Jackie giggled while shouting, “How many times you go into your car and just sit there and think to yourself? And – and who else uses a sword that’s like 500 fuckin’ years old in combat? Somebody who’s crazy introspective, that’s who.”

  “Yeah, well maybe that’s just a cultural thing, then,” I elaborated with a guess, “We Japanese are pretty introspective in general. It's like I can’t really help myself sometimes, it’s just who I am as a person. But I still gotta take pride in what I do, you know.”

  “Mm, I get that.”

  “Plus, coming from a samurai family, it’s kind of expected that you’re gonna go into politics or learn to be some badass soldier, something like that,” I casually twiddled my thumbs, “Which, when you wanted to be a dancer like me… Well. It’s funny… I actually wanted to learn how to swordfight because I saw my mom practicing with her sword and thought it looked like a beautiful dance routine. So I guess I can blame her for why I'm a fighter, not a lover like you.”

  “Really?” Jackie smiled wholesomely, “That’s actually really sweet, though - seein' her like that. See? And you keep sayin' that dancing never inspires n' shit.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, somewhat flustered, “She always had this… elegance about the way she carried herself. I used to look up to her a lot, y’know.”

  “And? What happened next?”

  “Well you know that whole story. Kicked out, homeless, Arasaka, blah blah blah.”

  “Ah, yeah yeah, I remember.”

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  “Mm,” I nodded, “How’d your family end up in NC, anyway?”

  “Ah, should ask Mamá yourself. You’re part of the family now, no?”

  “I know… still feels weird, though." Maybe it's because I never really had a family like this. Growing up in my household was a bit… strange. As were most families in my position, I guess. My dad was usually off on business, my mom was usually, well… she's just… a unique person. Having some semblance of normalcy is some serious whiplash, and really makes me stop and consider just how much I actually missed.

  “Nah, I kinda get that,” Jackie half-smiled with the right side of his chubby face, “When I ran with the Valentinos, would lose family and get new family all the time. Or, what we thought of as family, anyway.”

  “Your dad was a ‘Tino, no?”

  “He was…” he sighed deeply, “Yeah… I don’t miss him.”

  “I understand,” I frowned, “Sorry that happened to you.”

  “Nah, ‘s all in the past. Anyway, she moved to NC to get away from the cartels and shit. Kinda fucked how you can go from cartels in México to the ‘Tinos, but old habits die hard, y’know?”

  “Yeah, we know a thing or two about old habits as well,” I replied frankly, “Though I don’t really mind it. I guess we can’t ever truly escape from that, though. You wear a huge cross around your neck, I’m a Shintoist, I mean, it is what it is, right?”

  “Ehh. In my mind, religion’s all about what makes the world bearable for you. S’different for everyone. Some peeps find the idea of a god comforting, others reincarnation or whatever, don’t bother me. S’long as it keeps you from being an asshole, s’whatever.”

  “Amen,” I smiled.

  “Heh… Uh… What do shintoists say instead of ‘Amen,’ anyway?”

  “Pff,” I laughed, “Nothing, Jack. We just talk to spirits, remember?”

  “Fine, fine, be like that… So, in your Japanese Shintoist wisdom, what sorta spirit does this place have?” Referring, of course, to El Coyote Cojo, the bar owned by my adoptive mother, Mama Welles. Jackie Welles, meanwhile, was far more boastful and ambitious. But among his many dreams of grandeur, he was still unquestionably a family man who wanted a bar of his own and his future children – a chip off the old block, if I’d ever seen one.

  “Hmm…” I pondered, “I’d say this place feels as lively as any person. It lives, breathes, and speaks of stories. It enjoys hearing its patron’s stories and sharing them with those who take the time to listen.”

  “Aw, that’s beautiful. Mamá would love that, y’know? You should tell her.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, bud. It’s been another long day.”

  “Why, what’s up?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story.”

  “Hey, I’m listenin’, you know that.”

  “Yeah, I know…” I explained what was going on with the Frankfurt job, my current assignment and thorn in my side. We suspect there’s a data leak going on, but could never really confirm it up until recently. Frankfurt’s a major hub for smuggling operations, and generally people aren’t too picky about precisely what they smuggle as long as it earns good money. People, drugs, weapons, or in our case – data. Good intel can be worth its weight in gold, that’s for sure – I’m certainly as guilty as any other in my position, considering Arasaka’s deep pockets for such information.

  This work made me sorely miss the military. But that wasn’t technically my job anymore, despite the plaque on my desk. Rather, my job was defensive; instead of soldiering or stealing information, I prevented others from stealing ours, all from the comfort of an air-conditioned office at Arasaka Counterintel. Apparently 8 years of the former qualified me enough to be second-in-command for the latter, considering our biggest rival – Militech – had its regional headquarters quite literally across the street. I pass by officials I’d bribed with money, sex, and favors on my way to lunch every day. It’s not as far removed from fighting them on the front lines as people want to believe; those front lines are merely dressed in a veneer of corporate dignity, but they’re still there. As were my own scars. Though I like to think I wear those with pride - well, the ones that Trauma Team hadn't gotten rid of. Granted, they could do nothing for the mental aspects of this job. They frankly seemed to have a knack for making trauma worse.

  I suppose the saying “Victim of your own success” certainly applies here. I conducted no fewer than 11 successful operations during and following the Unification War, earning me a rather coveted position in Arasaka. And while I found the ruthless cutthroat politics of work to be stimulating, I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that it’s also incredibly stressful.

  “So here I am again, trying to deal with this leak and now somebody’s saying something about a mole in the organization. Feels like I’m being stretched in four different directions, like being drawn and quartered or something. And, I mean, I’m trying to deal with these goddamn people and it feels like I’m talking to a bunch of lawn ornaments. They just sit there, absorbed in whatever the fuck is going on and leave me stuck cleaning up all the garbage. Like you know why I’m second-in-command? It’s not because I slept with my boss like everyone says I did behind my back. It’s because I’m here busting my ass and handling cases on Militech, Biotechnica, and Petrochem all at the same time and these goddamn people come to me asking the same questions 15 minutes apart. Now I’m all for helping out around the place, but some of these guys are like a cat that keeps knocking over a glass of water. Ugh. Makes me miss the old days.”

  “Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Jackie shrugged.

  “Nah, I’m probably exaggerating. Look, it’s just stressful as hell and I really don’t wanna think about it, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, ‘s all good. Not here to judge, y’know that.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jack.”

  “Not gonna lie though, still curious to see just how bad it really is. Maybe I can come into work one of these times, give you a back rub in the middle of your shift, heh.”

  “Oh that’d be the fucking day. You know the rules.”

  “Yeah yeah, work and home life separate.”

  “And for good reason, I really don’t need you involved-”

  “Involved in your workspace, yeah, I heard the speech.”

  “Mm, sorry,” I frowned, “Look, I know I’m not the best with people, but-”

  “Hey, I said it’s okay, so it’s okay, V.”

  “Alright, alright, I’ll take the hint!” I giggled. “What’re you doing with Misty, anyway?”

  “Eh, she’s s’posed to be here in like 10 minutes. Had a big client today.”

  “Oh? Her little shop actually getting business? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, not too many people into mythology anymore. Not when they’re strugglin’ to put food on the table,” he shrugged indecisively. “Well, feel free to crash on my bed, yeah? Be back later on.”

  “Think she’ll be pissed about me sleeping in her spot, though?”

  “Naaah, you know we’ll be out all night, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

  “I know, just joking.”

  “Course I won’t mention that I got this exotic-lookin’ girl who only speaks Japanese sleepin’ in my bed…”

  “Jackie!”

  “With her fake tits, and her luscious black hair, her mesmerizing eyes, that big fuckin’ sword she carries around everywhere she goes for some bizarre reason but hey, not my place to judge people’s kinks-”

  “Jackieee!” I laughed and slapped his hand. They're not even fake, he just loves taking the piss.

  “Ey, ey, watch the goods, Misty’s the only one who can slap me today.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Hey, I fuckin’ dare you!”

  “Oh you dare me, huh?”

  “You know you’d be hanged for hitting me in Yokosuka, right? I’m a noblewoman.”

  “Funny, cause last time I checked this was Night City, not Japan!” he teased and threatened to launch himself over the table.

  “Ey!” Pepe shouted over us, “Got a call from Misty!”

  “Ah, she’s prolly waitin’ out back!” Jackie’s eyes lit up like fireworks.

  “Have fun, you lovebirds,” I smiled at my best friend’s happiness.

  “Oh I plan on it.”

  Seeing him so beaming honestly made me wish I had a partner. I’ve been with quite a few over the years, but nothing ever really seemed to last. And it always ended in spectacular fashion, usually resulting in me going on a day-long bender at this fine establishment. I think Jackie’s been around for like 6 of my girlfriends and a boyfriend, but he’s always had Misty in his corner. Jealousy aside, I was genuinely happy for him. They make a fantastic couple, and I want nothing more than to see the two just live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet with a couple kids and a nice little bar all to himself. Maybe one day.

  - Nanite replicator replacing V's appendix, 2058

  - Generation-three nanosurgeons using hardened ceramic deposits to reinforce and self-seal subdermal armor and body cyberware, 2064

  - Titanium-magnesium bone lace designed to interface with V's reinforcing cables, 2064

  - Generation-three skin weave capable of limited self-healing, 2064