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In the cramped, shadow-choked alleys of Chinatown, two youths walked in silence.
"You've got some nerve, walking around Watson dressed like that," Jax remarked, glancing at David's pristine high-collar uniform. "David, are you afraid people won't mistake you for a corporate brat and kidnap you for ransom?"
David didn't look up. "I only come during the day. I won't come here at night."
"In Night City, the only difference between day and night is the number of witnesses," Jax said softly, his tone carefully neutral. He could feel the tension radiating off the younger boy. "And for a lunatic, witnesses aren't a deterrent—they're just an audience."
Jax was trying to be gentle. He knew David was wary of him. Earlier, at the restaurant, David had stammered through an explanation for his presence in Watson: he was looking for a "special" braindance and a ripperdoc who sold black-market software.
Jax didn't need the kid to be clear; he knew exactly what David was doing. He was buying an illegal tuner for his learning headband to skip the extortionate licensing fees of Arasaka's curriculum. It was the prologue of a tragedy. The year was 2075, and if the timeline held, David was about to lose everything before becoming the bright, doomed star of the edgerunner world.
As they walked, Jax pulled up his internal quest panel.
[Adolescent Confusion] · Danger Level: Low · Quest: Your neighbor, David Martinez, is at a breaking point. Between his mother's impossible expectations and the toxic bullying at school, he is gravitating toward the edge. He yearns for the world of Edgerunners. Help David reshape his outlook on life. · Reward: Auxiliary Skill [Potent Healing], Random Attribute 0.1 · Description: Buddy, we all know his mother has it wrong. The odds of a slum-kid rising to the top of Arasaka Tower are lower than the odds of him fighting his way to the top. There's more than one way to stand at the peak. Show him yours.
The description made Jax want to scoff. Fighting into the tower was easier than graduating into it? In Night City, that was probably a statistical fact.
"Actually, you don't have to follow me," David said, breaking the silence. "I know the way. There won't be any danger."
David was clearly uncomfortable. The transaction he was about to make wasn't exactly something you showed off to a guy who lived next door.
"It's fine. I'm quite free today," Jax replied, adding with a smirk, "Besides, your mom and I have a deal. I'm on the clock."
"If my mom knew you were an Edgerunner, she definitely wouldn't—"
"Wait." Jax's arm shot out, barring David's chest. He narrowed his eyes at the intersection ahead. "Get out!"
A figure emerged from the side alley, draped in a heavy black overcoat and a slumped hat.
"Damn it!" the man hissed, looking nervously at Jax. Finding a young man who looked just as un-chromed as David, he spat on the ground. "Kid, you didn't tell me you were bringing a plus-one today!"
"Don't worry, Jax," David whispered, though his own voice was shaky. "He's the dealer. I contacted him ahead of time."
Jax withdrew his arm but kept his hand near the hilt of his new Katana. He watched as the dealer shuffled forward and pulled open his trench coat. Instead of a body, the interior was lined with rows of small optical discs—illegal Braindance (BD) chips.
"If I hadn't worked with you before, Martinez, I'd put you on the blacklist right now!" the dealer growled. "Who the hell is this guy?"
"A friend," David said, his head low. "He just wanted to see."
Jax leaned in, looking at the titles. Most were crude—extreme sports, robberies, things Jax had seen a hundred times at the Moxes. But then the dealer pointed to a specific, unmarked black sleeve.
"This is the one you asked for. A Cyberpsycho hit," the dealer whispered, his eyes gleaming. "This guy was a beast. Took on a whole NCPD squad in the corporate zone. The clean-up crew extracted the raw sensory data from his prefrontal cortex before he went cold. This is as real as it gets."
"What's the price?" David asked.
"Two hundred eddies. No haggling."
"Two hundred? The last one was less than a hundred!" David protested.
"Are you kidding me? This is a MAX-TAC deployment recording! The protagonist isn't some street thug; he's a goddamn war machine. Pay up or walk."
The dealer's expression suddenly shifted. He looked at Jax, then back at David, and a predatory glint entered his eyes. "Actually, you broke the rules by bringing a witness. That's a risk for me. Price just went up. Three hundred and fifty."
Before David could respond, the dealer pulled a pistol from his pocket, leveling it at David's chest.
"Or," the man sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger, "maybe I just take the eddies you have and leave you both in the trash. In this alley, nobody hears the bang."
Jax felt a familiar chill. He looked at the dealer, then at the trembling David.
Reshape his outlook on life, huh? Jax thought. I guess a lesson in 'Street Reality' is a good place to start.
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