Cyberpunk: Badland Madman Chapter 2 - Delivery Boy, Motivations, Gun Testing & Damn Itch

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/13_1vvRNjyf8yhYZKmM3QmiBXOh5cGTEOZJQwXzoRLmI/edit?usp=sharing

______________

"Okay, wow, choom, that’s a lot, even for me. Where in Night City did you scrape up that many?"

Judy had returned from her dive and sat near him, assessing his collection. Cypher wasn't proud of the BD porn collection he'd gathered to sell. The number reached almost five thousand. 

"Been collecting them for years," he replied, not wanting to reminisce too much. "How much can I get for these?"

"I dunno yet. A couple of them look vintage, could score you a fat payout. The rest of it’s normie-grade trash. Hard to call without my full setup. Need my rig to get the real detes. Still, from what I’m seein’? These are worth no less than ten thousand. Maybe more if we dig up some specials."

"..."

Twenty thousand dollars just for porn? 

Cypher eyed the crate full of BDs. It did look like a very lucrative business to him. Low on the moral scale, but that could be ignored when the price was that high. Not that he had any experience in that industry. 

"Yeah, that'd seriously make things easier for me. I won't lie, I can't keep spiraling like this, I gotta get my act together. So uh, what about the glitter?"

"Sure you wanna do that? That withdrawal’s gonna chew you up."

"I know." He cursed under his breath as he was already feeling the symptoms. And he wanted to avoid visiting any of Night City's hospitals or any other facility. They'd do god knows what experiments on him. 

"It'd really help if I could snag a job. You got anything popping at Lizzie's? I got the iron, and I can pull my weight if there's a spot open."

"Let me think a little. What can you actually do? Got some hidden chrome magic?"

Cypher frowned and thought deeply. Surely his skill in literature wasn't going to help. That left whatever the dead guy had. "I can push my bike stupid fast and my aim’s pretty spot-on, no lie."

Judy relaxed back on the couch. "Hmm…"

Cypher puffed and stopped staring at her breasts. He was all bricked up already, just by being close to a pretty woman. It was probably the default state of the dead guy whenever a woman was nearby. 

"So, looking for a merc run or what? I can hook you up with a fixer if you want. Not the flashy Afterlife circles, but hey, it’ll net you some solid ennies."

"Merc? Fuck no!" He refused right away. "I'm not mixing with those life of glory chrome junkies. I just want a regular job that keeps me fed. Checking toxins in this reservoir don't pay. It just lets me stay out here without rent."

Judy pondered over that more, looking actually interested in helping him. "Then… how about you gig for me instead? Bet I can rip your BD stash and sling it to a few regulars. All you need to do is drop the braindances off to the gonks too busy drowning in their own cum to haul their asses out and buy it themselves.”

He stared at her face for a while. He tried to think of anything else he could do. Sure, he knew the names of fixers, but none knew him. And they'd give him merc jobs. 

"I'll take it." He accepted the offer. 

"Nova!" She got up. "Give me a hand tossing this stash into the van. Time to delta. As for the glitter, I'll find someone from the Moxes to handle it. Swing by Lizzie’s tomorrow. I’ll have all the drop-offs synced and ready."

Cypher grabbed the carton full of BDs and followed her out of the house, working hard not to stare at her ass as she walked in front of him. 

Outside, he put the carton in her Villefort minivan and watched her give a wave before leaving. He stood there for a while, staring at the dust the van left behind. Then he turned towards the toxic water that looked pretty exciting to swim in, but he knew was deadly. 

Truth be told, on another look, the place was rather cozy. It was away from all the gangs, away from all the Corpos. He had water, electricity, and net. Sure, he was all alone there, but in a world like that, it was a plus. 

"What now?"

He turned back to the house. Still, he could feel something gnawing at his mind. It was the knowledge of building the gun. As if it were speaking to him, urging him to make it. 

"Hmm… Ionized plasma propellant cartridge, plasma ignition chamber, photonic focusing lens, power cell, magnetic bolt accelerator rails, cooling shroud, trigger assembly & fire control unit, chassis & grip assembly." 

He recited the parts he needed to make for the gun, and really, he knew how to make each part separately and combine them to make the gun. What he didn't know was if the thing was even feasible because, as far as he knew, the Cyberpunk world didn't have plasma guns.  

"Let's just get it done and rid this itch."

####

Lizzie's Bar only opened from six in the evening to six in the morning. But that was for customers; what Cypher had was a job. He arrived at the bar in Kabuki around midday, parked his Apollo 650-S, and approached the main door. 

"We're closed," shouted a woman with purple space-buns and long fringes and bangs on her head, wearing a ripped tank top, the word Moxes tattooed on her chest, her arms were both chromed out with cyberware, holding a baseball bat. 

"I can see that," he replied. 

"Great, you have functioning eyes," she retorted, slinging her baseball bat over her shoulder. 

Cypher smiled, finding it rather cute instead. Deadly, but cute. "Judy asked me to roll through. Got some BD deliveries to make."

"Well check that out. You’re the BD collector, right? Heard your archive’s stacked with proper preem gems. Old and gold, no joke. Aight, head through the left door. You’ll be set." Rita stepped aside, and the doors slid open. 

Famous for my porn collection?

Cypher just chuckled and moved. But not before introducing himself to the pretty bouncer. "Name's Cypher Blackwell."

"Ha, even got a name to match the vibe, huh? I’m Rita Wheeler. If some clown in the club starts tweak’n your buzz, you know where to find me."

Vibe? 

Cypher didn't believe her. He'd only seen himself once in the mirror since he'd woken up yesterday. While he was tall, probably a few inches above six, that was where the good ended. Brown hair, he could see a handsome face hidden under the baggy eyes and years of rough life and disregard for personal health. He was rather thin, underweight actually. 

"Will remember that, Rita." He entered the club and took the door to the left. 

Soon, he walked downstairs and found Judy's BD impressive basement workplace. The woman in question sat relaxed in a chair, TV running beside her while her BD Wreath was shining. The place was pretty high-tech for him. But he was immune to it after his ride through Night City and awed at the stunning yet weirdly repulsive city.

"Hey, Jude." He hailed Judy and just lay down on the BD chair, straightening his back. His house was seriously too far away from Night City. Even after he drove his motorbike like a missile, it took him nearly an hour. 

"Heyyy. Look at that timing. Just wrapped poking through your stash. You’re kinda the buzz in Night City right now, Cypher. A couple of the girls asked for a copy so they could spin up a BD and rake in eddies, but I told them no way."

"Did you even sleep last night?" Cyphas noticed bags under her eyes. 

Judy snorted a laugh. "C’mon, you think I’d bail on a score like this? No way. Already lined up three deliveries. Sorted your stash too. D’s the everyday stuff, C’s decent, B’s the kinky niche that still moves eddies, A’s preem merch, but S… S is where we cash in big. Only five copies in that tier, but fuck, they’re relics. Old school BD, back when folks didn’t even know what braindance meant."

I really was a fucking connoisseur, I guess. 

Cypher added to the dead Cypher's reputation just a tiny bit. He still thought the man was a total dumbass, a gonk as the local slang called. 

"And? How much is this worth?" 

"Yeah, fifteen’s doable. More if some BD-junkie collector comes sniffing around for the S grade, well, that’s Night City roulette. Anyway, I’m crashing hard, need some shut-eye before the bar fires up again. Sending you three detes. Just drop the packages, slot them through the door, no questions. Eddies already cleared. You take fifty percent, I grab twenty, bar gets thirty. And trust me, choom, that’s the tightest deal I could wrangle."

Hm… Thirty-Seventy would've sounded better. 

Cypher pondered a bit. Having no option, and not even knowing that you could make that much fucking money selling porn, he accepted the porn expert's words… for now, at least. He'd need to do some personal research later. 

For now, he needed motivation, and money did that job well enough. He wanted to get some decent food, or at least try all of them and pick whatever tasted decent, no matter the ingredients. 

"By the way." He raised his right hand and waved it, all fingers spread. "What the hell happened to my middle finger? Why is it mechanical?"

"Pfft!" Judy burst into laughter for a good half a minute. "You don't remember?" 

"..."

He had actually tried his hardest to remember it. But there was nothing, and that was confusing. How does one not know how they lost their middle finger? 

"No idea, actually."

"No shit, you were buzzed to the moon on glitter and whatever else you packed into your system when it all went down. Wild day, choomba. Anyway, get those deliveries squared away; story’s too big to dump right now. I’ll run it by you when you swing back. See ya."

As Judy left, Cypher just stood there, looking at his mechanical finger that he could use like a regular finger.

Even the damn finger's got a backstory. 

Chuckling, he left Lizzie's Bar, waving at Rita before heading to the nearest delivery location on his motorbike. It was Megabuilding 10, and it really was one mega structure, meant to house an entire town inside it. Technically, one could live their entire life inside it as every facility was in there. From food to entertainment, guns, and possibly hookers, too. 

Ugh, why am I thinking of hookers?

He parked his bike as safely as he could and strolled into the building. While there was always a danger of some random gonk shooting him, he knew the best way to avoid that was to act strong, confident, and threatening. 

Good for him, he looked so fucked up and mentally unstable that people walked out of his way on their own, probably scared he'd shoot them randomly. 

Wait a sec, isn't this building the one where…

Instead of going to the fifth floor where the delivery was supposed to go, he went to the eighth floor just to check things out. He remembered that part like the back of his hand and reached the door in question. It was where V should be living. 

Available for rent? 

Clearly, no V was living there yet. 

Am I too early? He tried to remember V's life. He knew that V wasn't in Night City for a while, but the timing wasn't clear. 

In the end, he returned to the elevator and reached the fifth floor to make the delivery. He eventually reached a door and rang the bell. 

"What?"

"Sweet dreams." He responded to the intercom, giving the password Judy had added in the delivery details. 

The metallic door slid open an inch, just enough for the BD packet to slide in. As he did that, two greasy fingers caught it, and the door closed instantly. 

That was it, nothing eventful, nothing scary. Cypher turned to head to the next location. He honestly preferred such degenerate weirdos over gun-slinging chrome junkies. 

The next place he went to was in Japantown. Not a megabuilding, but not far from it either. He felt a bit worried being there, knowing that it was Tyger Claws's territory. And if they knew he was doing delivery for Lizzie's, they'd do worse things to him than the Scavengers. 

In and out, he was quick there. 

Before long, he arrived at Corporate Plaza to finish his last and by far the weirdest delivery. He arrived in the lobby of an upscale residential building. The receptionist there told him to wait. 

Moments later, a gorgeous woman with big breasts arrived, dressed in a very revealing Victorian maid outfit. 

"My master says you have something for him?"

"..."

Just from that, Cypher knew which BD this 'master' had purchased. The dead Cypher had seen them all, after all, and by that logic, he'd seen it too. It was a BD with a master and servant fetish. It had nothing extreme, however, just maid cosplay and submissive play. 

"There you go." He handed her the BD and left the building. 

Back on his motorbike, he reached Lizzie's again. By then, it was already past six in the evening, and the bar was in business. A loud, muffled noise of music was coming from inside, and people were entering and leaving. 

He pinged Judy on the holo and told her he was back. But instead of calling him in, she asked him to wait outside. So, he leaned against his bike, watching the club's entrance, and looked at the people going in. People were dressed really fashionably there, or whatever the standard for fashion was in the city. 

Personally, he'd just worn a simple brown fake leather jacket, cargo pants, and some boots. That was what he found in the cupboard. At least they were clean. 

I should buy those gun parts. The itch is killing me. 

Waiting, looking at Rita and her friend checking the clubgoers, he started yawning. It was hard sleeping last night as he spent hours fighting his mind, screaming at him to inject the good stuff into his veins. 

Bam!

Hm?

A sudden loud sound caught his attention. A car stopped close to the bar's entrance, and five men exited, each sporting a weird punk hairstyle, dressed in colorful attire. He noticed a few guns on their hips, but they were all holding bats, hockeys, and clubs. 

Japanese? 

He heard them talk and recognised the language. From that, he knew they were probably Tyger Claws. It was widely known about the conflict between Moxes and the Japanese gang. 

He watched Rita Wheeler quickly call for backup as she took a fighting stance. Her bat slung over her shoulder, she raised her other hand. "Not one more step."

"What are you gonna do? Cry?" A Tyger Claw taunted. 

"Nope. But I ain’t promising you walk out with all your chrome and bones in one piece."

The five Tyger Claws laughed at that and inched closer. With mocking grunts and whatnot in Japanese, they taunted and laughed, waving their bats. It was unknown what their goal even was.

Bam!

Holy! She's feisty! 

It was Rita who slammed her bat first straight into one guy's face, knocking him out instantly. The sound was so loud, a clank of the metal. Nobody there was a true human; everyone had some sort of body modification. Hell, they could be having titanium bones under their skin. 

Cypher just watched from a distance, not wanting to do anything with it. He wasn't afraid; hell, he wasn't even scared of dying at that point. He just didn't want more headaches than he already had. 

Still, watching Rita smash the absolute living shit out of those Tyger Claws was fun. The way her bat would make sparks was blood-pumping. She was roaring louder than those supposed Tygers. 

Ah, shit. 

But right as she was busy smashing one of the Tyger Claws, another one she'd downed behind got up with the intent to hit Rita on the head. 

"Fuck it." 

Cypher reckoned this was just a common part of living in the Night City. He grabbed his gun from his hip, aimed at the Tyger Claw's hands holding the bat, and…

BANG!

The gunshot was loud. It hit the man right in the hands, chipping away a few fingers and knocking the bat away. All heads turned towards him, some analyzing, some giving thankful nods. 

"Aiming from the back? What else do you expect from Tyger Claw gangoons?” Rita barked and wrecked the hell out of the shot guy. 

In no time, all five of the men were on the ground, some knocked out and others groaning. By then, more of the Moxes had come out with weapons. But the fight was already over. 

Cypher was more in awe of his own aim, however. 

He was never a sharpshooter in his old life. But now, in that body, he felt it clearly. The dead Cypher was many things: a degenerate, lowlife, low-intelligence. But one thing the guy was good at was shooting and riding fast.

"’Preciate you having my six."

He focused on Rita as the purple-haired woman approached him. "No biggie."

"You know what? You just scored yourself an invite to my hush-hush hideout party. Sending the detes your way. I’m usually there after shift, and the drink’s on me."

Cypher heard the ping and looked at the message. It was from Rita, with a location marked and timing. And… there was also a picture of her with it, winking. 

"See you around."

He eyed the woman walk away, again giving him a smirk and a wink. That confused him a little. Was she hitting on him, or was she just naturally like that? Because at the moment, he couldn't see anything good to look at in himself. Maybe, given a few weeks, he would, but certainly not now. 

Batty's Hotel? Hmm… Not that far from home. 

"What did I miss?"

Right then, Judy appeared, walking over to him. 

"Yeah, some Tyger Claws got their ass kicked," he said, tapping his gun. "Got some target practice in, too."

"Oh?" Judy snorted a laugh. "Guess I hired myself one hell of a dangerous gonk, huh? Come on, my stomach’s throwing a riot. I know a spot in Kabuki market."

"On my ride?" He asked. 

"Why not?"

A little awkward, he nodded and got on his bike. Soon, he felt Judy's weight behind him as she sat down. And instantly, he felt her chest brush against his back. 

Knew this would happen. I'm bricked up. 

He knew the way from there and soon reached the round-shaped marketplace. It was evening and bustling with people, and there were plenty of spots to eat. He let Judy guide him as he personally didn't know what to eat and what to avoid. 

One thing was clear, however. Nothing there smelled like the food he knew. There was a fake, synthetic scent in the air, like everything was artificial. 

"This one here sells the best noodles."

He followed her into a small shop with just a counter and a few high stools in front of it. He sat down beside Judy and let her order for him as well. He did look at the menu. Words like sausage were thrown around, but he doubted it was real meat. 

Pretty quickly, a noodle bowl was placed in front of him. 

This looks alright. 

He took a bite. 

And tastes like shit. Did they even use flour to make the noodles? What's this sandy sauce? 

But when he looked at Judy, she seemed to be enjoying her meal. So, he did the same, at least wanting to fill his belly a little. He was so skinny currently that any food was good as long as it gave him some nutrition. 

"Nice hustle today. Got the next batch of deliveries queued for tomorrow. Pingin’ you your cut and the eddies from the glitter."

In the middle of eating, he saw his bank balance change. From just eighty, it reached two thousand. He froze for a moment, making sense out of how he made that much just from selling porn and his leftover crack. 

This is easy money. 

The porn part, of course. He had no desire to be a drug peddler. 

"Thanks, Judy."

"Hey, I made some eddies off it too, so we’re square. You got my back, I got yours, yeah? Anyway, you really oughta scope out a spot in the city. No way that constant trek from here to that lake farm is any kinda fun."

"I'll give it some thought. For now, I’m into that place. It's calm, keeps me outta the noise and all the random gunshots."

"Hah, I can see the lure." Judy finished her food and turned to face Cypher. "What flipped the script?"

"What do you mean?"

"What flipped the switch for you? Going from BD junkie and glitter sniffer to this. Can’t picture it being easy."

Well, it was death. But he couldn't say that. He thought for a second and leaned forward on the counter. He unconsciously scratched his neck. "It was this or dying alone in that lakehouse, overdosed. Wasn't even a tough call. The real battle is actually sticking to it."

"Sounds rough. Never really asked. What's your story, choom? Been kinda on my toes these past months around you. Hard to trust buzz chasing gonks, know what I'm sayin'?"

For a split second, Cypher felt his old life flash in his mind. But that didn't matter anymore. That chapter was already closed. "I'd straight up call you dense if you actually trusted me. There ain't anything special about me. I used to roll with a Nomad clan, but they booted me for getting too wild. Banged the clan head's wife and daughter. Yeah, I know, not my smartest era."

"Pffft!" Judy spat out her drink. "You what? Both of them? Together?"

"God, no! Not together, that's fucked up. But yeah, their bellies ended up bloating around the same time. The clan head wanted to straight-up kill me, but the other nomads pulled my ass outta that fire. That was a year ago. Been running ever since, just kinda surviving. Then I saw this job ad from NC Dam Ltd. Nobody wanted it because, you know, the reservoir's toxic as hell. I figured since I'm already slow-mo killing myself with my addictions, a little more poison won't hurt. So I applied and boom, got in."

Judy was quiet for some time, sipping on her drink. 

Then she looked at him and patted his shoulder. "Hey, you got this. I’ve watched what addictions can do, where they drag folks into this chrome jungle. Just don’t let Night City chew you up and spit you out, and you’ll come out clean."

"That's the plan. What about you, Judy Álvarez? What's your story?"

"Eh, not much to brag about. Grew up broke in Laguna Bend, no parents in sight. I was raised by my grandparents until the whole reservoir mess nuked the place. We hauled it to Night City after that. They hated it. Packed up for Oregon. I stuck around. Guess the city sunk its claws in me."

"And you live in Lizzie's?"

"Hell no, I’d flatline myself before doing that. I got my own little hive, cozy as hell, crashing there with my girl. Wait, you do know I’m into gals, right?"

Cypher nodded and decided to mess with her a little. "Hard to miss. You give off that vibe."

"What vibe?"

"Short hair in that swept undercut, cargos, tattoos, you got the full pick-me lesbian vibe going on," he said with this crooked smirk, making sure she knew he was just messing with her.

"Oh, you did not just call me that! And what'd you even know about women when you barely crawl outta your BD bunker? I dress to stun, thank you very much. And yeah, my girl’s a total stunner. She told me to steer clear of a gonk like you, said you'd spiral out again. But I dunno, got this itch in my gut telling me Maiko’s off her game this time."

"Well, damn, guess that means I got someone to prove wrong then."

"Okay, okay, time for me to delta. Got a stack of BDs waiting for some Judy magic." Judy got up and paid the vendor. "Was chill vibing with you, Cypher. Finding decent chooms in Night City is like finding clean air. Rare as hell."

"I ain't supposed to say it, but you're sorta off the knocker for seeing a friend in me."

She let out this dorky snort and strolled toward his motorbike. "I know. I do tend to attract the fucked up crowd."

"I'm fucked up?"

"Choom, what's not fucked up about you?" She gave his shoulder a playful jab. "Still, I got a knack for reading folks. You’re definitely fried in spots, but you’re good stuff underneath."

He got on the bike and started it. Soon, he felt Judy behind, once again leaving him bricked up. But he was no fiend; he had mental control. Besides, he kinda liked her, for at least being that chill with him. 

"So I'm a diamond in the rough?" He said while driving.

"Nah, nah, not that extreme. More like… I dunno… a bargain bin BD. You can splice it, polish it, whatever, but it’s still BD, y'know?"

"..."

"What else was I expecting from a BD editor?" he said, laughing to himself. Then he cranked the throttle hard, total speed fiend, the one addiction that wasn't taking him out. Well, not unless he ate pavement.

They weren't that far anyway, so it only took a few minutes of him cutting through traffic to reach the club again. 

"So, you gonna bounce straight home, or wanna chill here in the bar for a while?" Judy asked. 

"No, got some shopping to do. Then head home."

Judy gave him hard, judging eyes. 

"Ain't going glitter shopping."

"I didn't say anything." She lifted her hands and backed off with a grin. “Swing by tomorrow, yeah? Don't be late for the deliveries. Gotta keep that hustle clean."

He waved at her and rode away. He'd looked up on the net where he could find the parts he needed. And thankfully, he had some money to buy them. 

Night City was really beautiful at night. But still, he preferred his lakehouse as it was very peaceful. And riding to it at night in the soothing breeze was like therapy. No music, no noise, just the air splitting around him. 

Soon, after entering his house and cooking himself a shitty meal with even shittier ingredients, he cleaned out a table from the bedroom and started working on the DL-18 Blaster. He didn't need to design it in software since the gun was pretty simple, and his memory of it was too clear. 

At the same time, it was screaming, rushing him to be as quick as possible. He tried to do that, using a half-built old revolver's frame. He'd also gotten himself a small 3D printer that could work with metals and build him the designs he had in mind. It was very low-end and cheap stuff. 

He assembled the polymer chassis and set the titanium reinforcement into its slot. Then he fitted the plasma ignition chamber, securing its power leads and gas injector. Then he mounted the magnetic accelerator rails around the chamber and locked them into alignment. 

It was all new to Cypher, so his speed was very slow. It took a few tries to get things right, but the waste was minimal. He proceeded with positioning the synthetic focusing lenses within the barrel housing and tightened their anchors. 

Barely half done, it took him six hours just to reach there. He had to build a few things up using other tiny things that already existed. He didn't have a magic that could just give him all the parts needed. 

When the clock ticked past midnight, he dragged himself to the bed as well. 

Sadly, sleep wasn't his friend. By far the most damaging thing for him was the glitter addiction. Getting rid of it was extremely difficult. 

But he tried.

####

He barely got any sleep last night. Like a zombie, with a throbbing headache, he got up and jumped under the shower. He didn't know if the water was clean or if it was the same toxic water from the reservoir. He didn't care. 

After a shitty burrito, he worked on the gun again in the hopes of ending that itch in the head. But the process was too complex. There was no such thing as a microfusion cell in the Cyberpunk world. So, he had to make something for it. 

Needing more stuff to build it, he just left the house and rode to the city. He avoided some crazy, cromed-up mercs fighting in the middle of the street, then avoided an NCPD truck almost running him over. Eventually, he reached Lizzie's bar. 

"Whoa, that rough, huh?" Judy commented at his sight. "Here, got the deliveries prepped and good to go. Oh, and this is my choom. She gigs as a doll over at Clouds."

Cypher, too tired to even react, looked at the blue-haired woman giving him a cocky smile, arms folded. "Howdy. Name's Cypher Blackwell."

"Evelyn Parker."

That was it. He couldn't give more fucks at that moment. His brain wasn't braining. He just grabbed the bag full of BDs and left, overhearing the two women talk about him in the distance. 

With ten deliveries to make that day, he rode fast. It was getting really hard to focus on the road as his body craved the crack. He tried not to think about it, but biology was against him. 

Watson, Westbrook, and Heywood, he rode around half the Night City. By the time he finished the tenth delivery, it was already nearing midnight. It wasn't that he was slow; it was just that a few clients kept him waiting too long before receiving their deliveries. Some fucker even ordered it right to his office building. 

Nonetheless, tired, he did some shopping for the gun parts and returned to Lizzie's. He found Judy busy at work and received his payment for the day. But for dinner, she couldn't join him that night. 

So, all alone, he headed out. But surprisingly, he didn't find Rita at the bar's gate anymore. After asking the new bouncers, he learned her shift was over. That reminded him of the address Rita had sent him the day before. 

Not like I'm gonna get any sleep.

So he rode towards Pacifica. Batty's Hotel, to be precise. It was all the way on the southern side of Night City. But since he was already going to head that way for home, it didn't feel like an annoying chore. 

As he neared the spot Rita had mentioned, he noticed some music. 

Getting closer, he saw two big vans with the Mox gang logo on them. A few people were dancing there, and others were drinking. It really was a great spot as they could see the ocean directly from there. 

"Well, look at you, finally found the way."

He smiled at Rita and joined her. She was sitting relaxedly, feet up on the single-seater couch. He grabbed a seat on the larger three-seater one. 

"Couldn't say no to good company," he muttered with a lazy smirk, settling back. His gaze slid to the sea stretched out far off, mostly all clouds, but still a view. "Pretty solid spot, honestly."

"Been my go-to since I scoped it. Lets me catch a breather when the city starts chewing on me. How about you? Heard you’ve been slogging through some gonk trouble too."

"Figured I'd clean up my act. But after years hooked on glitter, it ain't letting me go easy. I barely sleep at all," he admitted, not covering a thing. "It's gonna be a slow ride."

Rita shot him a knowing nod. "Knew a pal fighting the same thing you’re in. Heard there’s a pill that helps you crash easy in these kinds of messes. Not addictive, so they say. I can nose around if you’re interested."

"Did Judy tell you to do this?"

"Judy pinged me to keep my optics sharp around you. Now I get why, but I can handle my own chrome. If this helps you out, that is one less gonk in Night City I need to worry about."

Cypher eyed the beautiful punk woman with intrigue. Maybe it was because he knew them beforehand, but he found it hard to believe he was meeting decent folks in Night City. Ones as hot as Rita, even. He wasn't much into cyberware like her, with entire arms replaced, but he saw the charm in her. The purple theme going on, even the lipstick. Her facial features were east asian, but he didn't know if she actually was asian. 

"That'll help me a lot, Rita. Seriously, thanks."

"Alright, enough of that. Let's dance."

Rita got out of her seat suddenly, high on her heels. She grabbed his arm and dragged him as well to where the other Moxes were dancing. 

Cypher was mostly out of energy, but honestly, with her dancing so sexily in front of him, he couldn't say no. The way she smoothly swayed her hips towards him, nearly crushing her back on his chest at times, followed by them just rocking face to face. It felt like therapy. 

I didn't know… I was missing this. 

He couldn't remember the last time he danced. He couldn't remember the last time he partied. Both in his past life and in the memories of this body. 

This… really felt like therapy. And making small talk with her was fun. He learned about her just as she learned about him. Apparently, Rita liked to make sculptures in her spare time. She explained the reasoning behind it, and honestly, it was interesting. Sculptures don't talk, don't judge, and they last longer than you. 

For nearly two hours, they drank, talked, and danced. By the end of it, they were chooms sharing stories and fucked up things they'd seen in their life. Cypher didn't know how that happened; Rita didn't seem like an easy woman. She had wants, needs, and deeper thinking. Yet, they somehow matched each other's vibes. 

Maybe it was his 'I don't care if I die' attitude, or maybe it was just his new perspective on life. Whatever it was, he didn't hate it. 

Eventually, it got late, or perhaps early. By two in the morning, all the Moxes had left, and the music's volume was turned low. It was just him sitting on the couch, and Rita right beside him. They shared a cigarette while talking. 

"So you planning to stick with Judy till the end? No shade, but swimming in BD gigs might frag you up with your past. Would suck to see you flatline."

"Oh? Ms. Wheeler is worried?" He passed a flirting smirk, aware of her hand that had somehow landed on his leg. It was all chrome, but it still felt real because intentions were behind it. 

"I ain’t sure. I’ll stay till I’m clean. After that, I’ll go hunt down a ‘job’ job."

"Merc stuff?" she asked. 

Hmm? 

He noticed her hand slide inward between his thighs. He wasn't complaining, already bricked up. She was giving him little squeezes, like hints that the signal was green.

"I can't really say. I've no interest in that. But if I do become one, it'd only be because I got no choice, not because I'm looking to have a damn Afterlife cocktail named after me," he said, yawning loudly and stretching until his arm landed around her shoulder. "So, why? You got somethin' for me or what?"

Rita chuckled suddenly and shifted. "You're too damn slow, you gonk."

She shifted suddenly and straddled his lap, her lips pursed, her purple mascara-streaked eyes narrow with mischief. She ground her hips against him, and hummed a moan as she felt his hardness pressing up through the fabric, the friction sending a jolt straight to his core. The weight of her body settled perfectly, her curves molding against his thighs.

"You're not a chrome-jock Merc, that's great. Your breed is rare. Most gonks are chasing glory for what?" She leaned down a little, her breath hitting his face. "Say, want me to give you a little motivation?"

Cypher could feel the dead guy inside him nearly cream from just feeling her soft hips on his lap. Rita Wheeler was beyond beautiful in an unusual way. She had cyberware implants, but they didn't make her ugly. Her voice was soft but not sharp, nearly throaty, a bit mature, and that was hot. 

"Like what?" he asked. 

Rita chuckled, her metal hands stroked his cheek, her sharp nails gently traced his skin. "You're cute."

"Seriously?" He asked because he'd seen himself in the mirror. 

"I see the potential." Rita giggled and lowered her face fully. 

Uh… I'm already close. Fuck! 

Cypher got closer to hating that body even more than he already did. But he still indulged in that soft kiss, her mouth claiming his with a gentle press that ignited sparks, the contact pulling him deeper into the lustful haze. 

His hands spread on her asscheeks, fingers splaying wide on that rounded flesh beneath her tight pants. It was hard to feel much through leather, but she was soft and round where it counted, yielding just enough under his squeeze to make his cock twitch. He tried to claw them, all the while feeling her lips move, sucking lightly at his bottom lip. He didn't know if they were implants; they felt real, warm and soft, and that lipstick… It tasted fruity. 

He closed his eyes and felt her warm tongue sweep through his mouth, parting his lips with a glide. Her tongue was long, reaching deep to tangle with his in a wet, swirling dance that filled him with her flavor. Her saliva coated his taste buds in a hot rush. Her body was light, moving with a graceful ease that made the kiss feel endless, every flick and curl building the pressure in his groin until he ached.

"Ummmh…" A low vibration escaped his chest as her tongue retreated just enough to let him breathe.

Rita broke the kiss. A little trail of spit stretching between their lips, glistening under the low lights like a cybernetic thread. Her grey-green eyes looked drunk. Then she smirked. "Time for the motivation."

She slid off his lap, down to the floor on her knees between his spread knees. The cool air brushed his skin as she positioned herself, her hands trailing down his thighs. 

That picture-perfect view made his hardness strain even more.

"Can't not help a struggling good boy, can I now? Fighting addiction. Even saved my ass." Her slender fingers moved, unbuttoning his cargos and just pulling them down to his ankles, baring all of his legs and thickness in one swift tug. 

The fabric pooled around his boots, leaving him exposed, his cock springing free into the dim light, pulsing with need. 

"Mmmmmh… A gifted, good boy, hm?" she giggled.

He was so fucking close already that he had to curl his toes inside his boots to control himself, the tension in his muscles fighting back the urge to erupt. He felt her cold metal fingers wrap around his girth, the chill contrasting with his warm flesh. 

He had to say, he was fucking gifted indeed. His flesh pole was bigger than the one he had in his past life, girthy and throbbing in her hand. The worst part was that the fucker had wasted it on BDs and a masturbation machine.

"Fuck!" He cursed. 

Rita giggled low and filthy, her face hovering under his shaft. She dragged that long, wet tongue up the underside in one slow swipe, then painted lazy circles around the swollen head while her sharp-nailed fingers locked tight around the base. Precum smeared across her cheek and chin as she rubbed the leaking tip against her lower face, eyes glinting with wicked delight.

Her tongue kept swirling, teasing the sensitive rim in tight, deliberate loops that made his hips jerk. Every flick sent lightning straight to his balls, and fuck, he was already teetering on the edge, thighs trembling. 

She noticed. Those grey-green eyes flicked up, drunk and knowing, reading every twitch like code.

"Hold it, honey. Not so fast," she purred.

And with that, she dived in. 

Both metal hands dropped, cold and unyielding, clamped onto his knees, spreading his knees wider. She opened her mouth wide and swallowed him down in one slick plunge. No hands, just pure greedy throat. Her mouth was molten, tighter than any flesh had a right to be, lips sealing around him like a vacuum as she took him deep. Right until his cockhead nudged the back of her throat and kept going.

Ghk! Slurp!

The wet, sloppy noises were loud enough to cut through the low thump of the music’s dying bass. Out in the open, on that battered couch, with the wind rattling the windows and neon bleeding across the floor. Anyone could walk in and see Rita on her knees, devouring him.

When Cypher forced his eyes down, he nearly lost it right there. 

Half his cock had vanished into her pretty mouth, lips stretched taut and shiny with spit, mascara smudged into dark streaks. Those drunk, smiling eyes stared straight up at him, smug and filthy, daring him to break. Her metal nails scratched lightly, teasing lines along his thighs and knees, the sting mixing with the suction until his vision blurred.

"Mmmmmh," she hummed around him, the vibration ripping a strangled groan from his chest.

Then she started moving, really moving. Her head snapped forward and back in a brutal, hungry rhythm, cheeks hollowing as she fucked her own throat on him. Spit poured down his shaft, dripping off her chin in thick strings. Every plunge made a wet, nasty squelch, her tongue lashing the underside like it was trying to wring him dry.

Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!

"Ugh… Fucking… close!" Cypher clawed at the couch, holding it in. He didn't want this to end so fast. 

But Rita only doubled down, slamming her mouth straight down harder, faster. Nose burying against his pelvis as her throat fluttered around his cock. Her tongue kept swirling, relentless, adding another layer of torment. Drool spilled everywhere, soaking his balls, running down his thighs.

"C-Can… I… grab your head?" he gasped, hips bucking helplessly into that perfect, punishing heat.

Rita eased off just enough to keep the swollen tip trapped between her slick lips, tongue flicking once under the rim. It was just enough for her to mutter out, “Treat yourself, pretty doll.”

"..."

“Unnnnghfffff!” A choked moan tore out of her as Cypher snapped.

Both hands shot forward, fingers twisting into those tight purple buns like handles, and he dragged her face down hard. His hips punched up at the same time, ramming every inch past her lips in one brutal thrust. Her throat seized around him, spasming, and he locked her there. 

His balls mashed flat against her chin, nose buried in the trimmed hair at his base, her purple lips sealed flush to his base. Thank goodness he'd trimmed the bush that morning. But that was all, he couldn't hold it anymore. 

And since Rita wasn't slapping his lap to stop him, he shattered. 

The first blast hit like a railgun. Thick, pent-up ropes of cum erupted straight down her throat, so much pressure it forced its way back up in messy surges. 

Her nose flared wide, nostrils flaring desperately for air as hot spurts overflowed, bubbling out around his shaft in filthy white drops. Years of denial, glitter nights, lonely machines, wave after wave. All of it unloading in heavy, sticky pulses. 

Froth poured from the corners of her stretched lips, streaking her cheeks, dripping off her chin in long, glistening strands that splattered onto her chest and the floor. A second load backwashed through her nose, pearly beads clinging to her lashes, and sliding down her smooth skin.

He held her there through every brutal throb, hips grinding, until the last shudder ripped through him and his grip loosened. Just in time.

Cough! Cough! 

Rita jerked back, gasping. “Ugh… Don’t do that again… unless I tell you to.”

Again? 

Before he could even think, she dove back in. Her right hand wrapped around his slick shaft, pumping slow and greedy, milking the last drops while her mouth chased every streak of white. She lapped it up. Tongue dragging over his skin, swallowing the frothy mess with little moans until he gleamed wet and clean.

Cypher could hardly believe what had just happened. Why did it happen? Was he that easy? Or was she that easy? 

“There you go…” Rita finally pulled away, rising to her feet. She glanced at her cybernetic arm; thick ropes of cum clung to the matte black plating. With a lusty smirk, she lifted it to her mouth and licked it clean. Her tongue curled around the metal fingers while her eyes stayed locked on his.

Right then, the last clip holding her hair gave way. Purple strands tumbled loose over her shoulders, framing her cum-streaked face like some neon-lit succubus fresh from a street fight.

“Holy shit!” Cypher nearly moaned, cock already stirring again. “Rita, you… Look like an absolute goddess with your hair down.”

"You think so?"

"I know so." He really wasn't lying. He already found her attractive, but now, she was irresistible; ruined makeup, lips swollen, hair wild, his mess still glistening on her skin. 

But Rita didn’t seem to trust him and just laughed at it. "Trying to sweet-talk me for more, huh? You gotta crank it up if you want that, pretty doll."

Pretty doll? I ain't pretty. 

Quickly, he pulled his pants and stood up. "I w—"

“How about this?” She cut him off and slid in close until her chest pressed right up against him. She tilted her chin up, a whole head shorter but owning the moment. “You keep clean for one full month, choom, and I’ll take you to a preem party. And yeah… you’ll get a lot more of me than this.”

"..."

Cypher knew he was no horndog, but… even if he wasn't influenced by the body's addictions, he'd agree to that. 

"Deal."

Rita laughed even louder at that and walked away to her personal van. "See you around." 

Thud!

When her van left, he relaxed back on that couch and just looked into the distance. He no longer felt that throbbing headache from withdrawal. In fact, he felt fucking refreshed with his balls empty. 

Yeah, this was a drug worse than that glitter. Fuck, now he wanted her mouth on his cock again and to never leave. He now realized why he had that cock sucking machine on. The dead fucker was addicted to the feeling. 

What the fuck just happened? 

He scratched his head, trying to understand how he even impressed Rita. Just shooting that Tyger Claw couldn't be that big of a deal, right? 

Ugh… Fuck it, let's go home and make that gun. I'm fucking pumped!

####

It was a little past three in the morning when he reached home. He still felt pumped and fresh, so he got to work on the gun right away. The damn itch in his head had gone from nudging him to full-blown punching him to get it done. 

He built the alternative parts for the blaster and started attaching them. He added the charged gas canister to the feed port. Then he installed the fire-control unit, linking it to the rails and chamber. Finally, he fit the cooling shroud over the barrel and made final calibrations to adjust the output of the blaster. 

By now, he knew this was a gun from the Star Wars universe. But he didn't know how powerful it was compared to conventional bullets. This plasma gun could shoot a hundred shots, and the range was over a hundred meters. But those were just words on a sheet. He had to test it first to know. 

"Ain't nobody seeing me out there." 

He grabbed the blaster pistol and geeked over it a little. It felt so surreal in the hand, a gun from Star Wars. Sure, he didn't know if it worked or if it was just a prop. But it felt so real. 

He checked everything one last time. Something told him he'd succeeded as that itch in the head had vanished abruptly. 

So he headed to the door to shoot some stuff in the open. 

Grrrrr~

But then he heard some noise. Engines, a few of them, and the noise got closer and closer. He looked at the clock, and it was five in the morning. It was still dark outside, and it made no sense for anyone to be there. 

Quickly, he shuffled through dead Cypher's memories to find a reason. To see if there were any unknown friends. But nothing came up.

He ran around the house and turned off all the lights inside. After that, he pocketed the one extra reload cartridge and peered out of the window to see what was going on. The roar of the engines grew stronger until he finally saw that three cars were headed towards his house. 

Finally, when they came to a halt right outside, he noticed the car models. An Archer Quartz and two Quadra Type-66. They were all modified for the Badlands, and now that he'd seen them, he also found the relevant memory about them. 

It's the Wraiths! Damn you, dead fuck! 

It turned out, the dead Cypher got his dose of glitter from none other than the Wraiths. In a way, the dead Cypher was already half a wraith since he was also an exiled, outcast Nomad, and that was what Raffen Shiv were. Wraiths were a group of Raffen Shiv nomads.

And they weren't the good sort of gang. They attack their prey during the night and raid or murder their victims. They take contracts and then keep the loot they were supposed to transport, or keep the passengers either for ransom or for their own 'enjoyment'. They were similar to Scavengers, and kidnapped people and killed them for their body parts and chrome. Raffen Shive were so hated that Nomad clans sent literal war parties to eliminate them wherever they were encountered or found. 

"And the fucker traded with them." Cypher cursed under his breath. He wasn't scared of dying, but dying so pointlessly was disappointing. Especially now that he had something to look forward to. 

Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Open up! I know you're holed up in there; your damn bike gave you away. We already stretched your tab long enough. You cough up the eddies today, or you ride with us in the trunk. No chrome on you, but your squishy bits will fetch a price."

A debt of eight thousand eddies was on dead Cypher's head. Now, the alive Cypher had to pay for it. But sadly, he'd already spent most of it on building that blaster…

Wait a second. 

He looked at the blaster in his hand and then remembered how good his aim was. He'd already counted the Wraiths outside, just four of them. And since killing wraiths was as good a deed as one could commit, there were no moral issues. 

Still, he didn't know if the blaster would work. But the only other option was surrendering. The house didn't have a secondary exit either. He was trapped there. 

"Fuck off! I got no money!" He shouted. 

There was silence. The four Wraiths must've been in disbelief. But the next second, they didn't even shout. They just shot at the door and broke its lock. Then they manually slid it open and entered the house with torches on. 

I can do this. Time to channel the Han Solo in me.

Cypher was hiding behind the coffee table that he'd flipped for cover. He wanted to use the element of surprise and strike them first; otherwise, they'd gang up on him. 

Funny… Killed my first guy three days ago. Now about to kill four. 

He gripped the DL-18 Blaster tightly in one hand, inhaled a deep breath, and stood up out of the cover, aiming. In a split second, he shot the fire round. It was bright, blue, and the sound felt so iconic that he had goosebumps all over. 

The room had lit up in a bright spark for a split second. His blaster hadn't made that much of a sound, so they didn't even know that they were being shot at. However, a thud had followed right after. 

"Mike?"

Cypher saw the damage when one of the Wraiths shone the torchlight on the body. His blaster round had hit the man square in the face. A hole was there now, molten, dark, and deep, but it didn't pass through entirely. 

It works!

He didn't give them time to respond after that and shot five more rounds. He got another one in the end, but the other two jumped away and ran into his bedroom. From there, Cypher was on the offensive. 

He had a total advantage as his gun could shoot a hundred rounds. 

Bang!

Silence was broken by the two remaining Wraiths shooting their guns as well. But theirs were loud and annoying. And they needed to reload. 

Cypher just waited outside the entrance to his bedroom. Occasionally, he blindly shot a round inside to keep them on the edge so they'd keep shooting back. 

"What the fuck are you doing, Cypher? You know more will come if you kill us!" 

"What do you expect me to do?" Cypher shouted back. "Just sit down and spread my legs? Fuck off, I don't got money and I won't pay a damn soul. You're both dying here, and after that, I'll drop whoever else comes looking."

Bang! Bang!

Finally, the Wraiths stopped shooting. 

Cypher peered inside a little and aimed. He really was too fucking good at it. Accurately, he shot at the Wraith hiding behind the cupboard. His first shot hit the foot, dropping the Wraith in the open. The second hit the head. 

Bang!

By then, the last Wraith was back to shooting blindly. 

"Let us go, Cypher. We can still end thi—"

"Man, shut the fuck up. You were just talking about selling my damn organs. And what do you mean by us? It's just you left." Cypher blindly shot inside the room, hoping to hit something. 

Uh… Not this again! Why? Why's the itch back!?

Cypher felt his focus falter. That same itch that he'd escaped by making the gun had returned. But only this time, instead of a gun, he saw flashes of a tube-like thing. 

"An EpiPen? Why would I make that?"

Bang! Bang!

"You're crazy!" the Wraith from inside shouted. 

Cypher shook his head and focused on the target. He noticed the pause in shooting and tried to look inside—

Shit!

It was a trap. He rushed to hide again, but he was a bit too slow. 

Bang!

"Fuck! I won't shoot you in the head, you hear me?!" Cypher roared as pain registered. It was dark, so he couldn't see, but the tingling, painful sensation was evident on his left arm. 

After that, he went berserk in anger, the brain itch, and simple fatigue. He hadn't slept in two days, and he had just gotten shot. 

"Fuck you!" 

He started to shoot blindly inside the room nonstop. He didn't need to reload, and since he knew where the guy was hiding, he sprayed endless rounds. 

The pain was too much. His brain wasn't working anymore. He didn't even bother to check inside and kept shooting. The blaster rounds were bright; they shimmered the entire house continuously like disco lights. 

Click! Click!

Finally, he was out of ammo. 

Thud!

Right there, he fell, his back against the wall outside his bedroom door, in the pool of his own blood. Still, with half his face, he peeked inside. There, at the corner, a lot of embers were burning, and that light was enough to show the dead body riddled with countless charred holes. 

At last, he relaxed, but he knew this wasn't right. There was no light, and he could still feel his vision darkening. He reckoned he'd lost too much blood, so he did the next best thing and called Judy. 

The call rang for a long time before her sleepy face came into view. 

"Cypher, do you know what ti—"

"Aghk… Judy… uh… Quick, ain't got long. Got shot… Wraiths, at home, they're dead."

"Fuck! I'm coming!" 

The call got cut, and Cypher relaxed flat right there. He was still cursing under his breath, however. He blamed that brain itch for breaking his focus. 

"Why's it fucking back? Why would I make an Epi… Uh, no?"

With flickering thoughts, he took a better look at this new thing, and before long, he had a name. 

"Uh… A what? Sonic Screwdriver?"

_________________

[A/N: Later in the story, I’ll sometimes give you guys options to vote on. For what he’ll make next.

Don’t forget to tell me what you think about the story in the comments. If you really liked it, drop a like, please. It keeps me motivated.]