"Still peering through the looking glass? I teased Ayuzawa as I came up behind him and crouched down, "Same thing?"

  "Same thing." Caught him practicing, though we had no bullets left to actually do anything. The enemy didn't know that little fact, and we worked hard to keep it that way, keeping up appearances that we were at least trying to use our firearms.

  The disused regional airport we found ourselves in used to service the industrial hub of Los Padres county. How times have changed. Now it stood as the forward-most base of operations for our little motley division. But after a year of fighting, we simply had nothing left, literally and figuratively. We scavenged food from a shipping container filled with canned beans that expired in 20 years. Lucky us, I suppose. I haven't brushed my teeth in over 2 months. We just had the water the beans were suspended in… beans, beans, beans.

  I wonder, then, what we would do if push came to shove. If our only viable means of defense was our swords and rifle butts.

  I couldn't do anything. Yet I felt compelled to never surrender.

  The irony of being surrounded by the enemy on three sides. Of watching Wraith, nomad, and official convoys pass us by, bristling with Soviet weapons. Yet we had not the means to seize any. We'd already lost too much.

  Water, water everywhere, yet not a drop to drink. And here was Ayuzawa, front and center. With only two magazines left. Two 5-round magazines shared between twelve rifles. I suppose it was enough for us to-

  -

  “Scream…”

  I could see him…

  Burning…

  The boy’s mother clutched onto him…

  The screams… the horrible screams…

  Jackie… please…

  Someone help him… Stop. Please, stop, let me go…

  –

  "Listen, we have another convoy headed out… Put her on there."

  "What about the downed helicopter?" Ayuzawa asked as I peered through his sniper rifle's scope, "You gonna take 'em out from here?!"

  "Man, how good a shot do you think I am? No, you cover me from the back. Something doesn't feel right about this one…"

  "Ma'am." What are you up to…

  I approached as quietly as a snake in the grass, donning my Noh mask to protect my face… Wraiths, indeed. And Militech crates…? Wait, what is this?

  "It's our bird, alright," I whispered in my transmitter, "But no sign of the rest of the crew… Wraiths are swapping our supplies for Militech goods, looks like…"

  "Classic bait-and-switch?" Ayuzawa suggested.

  "Hmm… I'm not sure… Get Osaki up here. Might need more backup on this one."

  "Done."

  Why the Hell would they be moving their own weapons onto our downed helicopter…? If Ayuzawa was right and it was a bait-and-switch, then who's the bait? They already downed the bird…

  "In position," Osaki spoke quietly as a feather in my earpiece, my cue to move in.

  "Take the two in the back, I have the two in front," I muttered as I grabbed the sentry and twisted his neck with a sickening crunch, shearing his windpipe. "Easy does it…"

  "Ready," Ayuzawa said, leaving all our pawns in position.

  "Execute."

  The burning wreckage of the helicopter provided a convenient smoke cover as I cleaved through the enemy machine gunner first, keeping him out of line-of-sight. I could just barely make out the sound of two bodies slumping on the far side of the encampment as I sprinted at full-speed towards the final enemy - a shotgunner who was so startled that he froze in terror. Weakly-trained nomads, if indeed trained at all… my team ate them for breakfast, green as Osaki and Ayuzawa were.

  I bet he was excited for some action, finally. It was the first time he fired his rifle in anger in three months. Or, perhaps, he was just tired. We all were.

  Four men dropped dead within as many seconds. Yet something still felt… wrong, about this place. "Sergeant!" Osaki shouted as the pair ran up behind me, "Good work."

  "Mm, you too, as always," I nodded. They'd only been here a month, yet they picked up on the state of affairs remarkably well.

  "Drink?" Osaki offered me, to which I politely shook my head. "More for me…"

  "What do you think they were doing out here?" Ayuzawa again repeated himself, something he often does when he's thinking. "Maybe… Would they be setting up an encampment?"

  "No," I muttered, "It's cold, but not that cold. All they did was telegraph their position to us."

  "Maybe they were stealing our weapons?" Osaki chimed in, "Just happened to put 'em in Militech boxes. Not like we don't use the enemy's equipment as well as our own."

  "Sure, but you think they have those boxes lying around anywhere? And why would they need our weapons when they already have their own?" I turned away and walked further down, searching the area for tracks of some sort… Anything…

  –

  Jackie? Please… I’m so tired…

  –

  Jackie…

  Jackie…

  Please…

  “V…”

  “Jackie…?”

  “V… get up…”

  “I can’t…”

  “You… up…”

  “What…”

  “You… get…”

  “I don’t…”

  “V, for fuck’s sake!” Johnny shouted, “Open your eyes! You’ve been asleep for 10 hours!”

  “Mmmph… I groaned as I sat up, “Johnny, what the fuck?”

  “Fucking hell, finally,” Johnny rolled his eyes at me with a sigh of relief, “Now could you please remember to take your fuckin’ medication ‘fore you pass out next time so I don’t have to sit there and have a fuckin’ PTSD attack with you?”

  “What?– You could see my dreams?!”

  “Mostly,” he replied more calmly, “It’s more of a… trail mix of emotions, I guess.”

  “Mmh, dreams usually are,” I rubbed my eyes and got out of bed, “And they’re often exaggerated.”

  “Sure as shit felt real enough,” he shrugged, “Somethin’ about a booby-trapped or, uh, rigged helicopter, couple of dudes you were tight with, uh, Ayusomething and O-something…”

  “Ayuzawa and, who, Okada?” I raised an eyebrow - those were names I'd not heard in a very long time. Though I guess I should get used to this.

  "No, another O - uh, Osaka?" What, the city? Oh - Osaki? Who was he again?- Wait, isn't he that kid caught in that one convoy… What random memory did he stumble upon, anyway… “Yeah, they were, uh… caught in a convoy explosion. Ayuzawa made it out, but–”

  “Convoy? This before or after the whole helicopter thing?” Johnny took out a smoke and fired it up - I wonder if he actually got any sort of kick out of it, or he just did it to piss me off. Neither would've surprised me.

  “What?– No, that’s not– What the Hell are you talking about? What helicopter?”

  “The helicopter the Wraiths took over. Out in the middle of the desert. I saw you raiding it,” he insisted.

  I stood up and brushed my hair back with my hand, trying to process what on Earth this guy was saying. No, no - what he's saying doesn't make any sense. “Okay, you're starting to annoy me and I only just woke up, which is impressive."

  "Why, because I'm up in your skin suit, havin' a peek at your darkest thoughts?

  I knew he'd never shut up if I didn't address his fucking question. Fine… "Okay. First of all, what helicopter raid? Like, it was on the ground? That makes no sense - Osaki died while we were stationed in an airport. This place we used a few times throughout the conflict. But you know what's ironic - the fucking place couldn't even receive airdrops because it was too close to enemy lines. We ran out of ammunition. Hell, we almost starved before the war ended. We sure as shit could've used a helicopter full of crap then.”

  Johnny took a pause, as if he was stuck on a loading screen. “Then what’d you dream about last night?”

  “I dreamt about the heist… Wishing Jackie was back. I embraced him, and… and woke up.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Johnny, please. Why would I lie,” I lashed out as I went over to the bathroom and started brushing my teeth.

  “So you don’t remember anything about all that?”

  “All what?”

  “You and whatever the two dude’s names were, rippin' shit up by a downed 'Saka bird.”

  “Dude, what the fuck? I just said that didn't happen,” I shot a rude glare at him, now incredibly confused, "First of all, they barely knew each other. I think they did that one mission before Osaki passed. His sister wouldn't stop giving me death threats about it, even though I wasn't even there. It was them going to pick up supplies in a couple of trucks, they got ambushed, that's all she wrote. There was no fucking helicopter. Hell, I'm shocked you even dug up that name at all."

  "Who, Ayuzawa?"

  "No, Osaki. He died just as quickly as so many other enlisted. We got used to seeing new faces."

  "Would be right at home in the Second Central American. Sorry 'bout that."

  I pinched my nose and aggressively shook my head at him. That was the most insincere apology I've heard in a long time. And obviously it was still about him. "Johnny, don't pretend like you care about my problems. And besides, I was in a recon unit. Our front-liners did all the heavy lifting."

  “Hmph, nevermind, I guess,” he shrugged, “Fuck does it matter, anyway. I’m not the one losing my mind.”

  Losing my mind… That never happened, though… did it? How would I even know…? What was it that Vik said… one day I’ll just be… gone? Does that mean I’m losing my memory, too…? No, no, let’s not freak out… still need my skin graft done, I’ll just ask him.

  Huh… oh, that looks beautiful… I love how my eye turned out…

  “That supposed to be blue?” Johnny asked me as he leaned in for his own look.

  “My eye? Yeah, it is. Apparently it'll get a hazel middle at some point once it's all healed.”

  “Hmph, had an old output with eyes like that,” he muttered, “Some wild head, I’ll tell you.”

  “Right, that reminds me, where’s my medication…” Only a week and I already wanted to gouge this motherfucker out of my head, damn the consequences.

  –

  “Vik!” I smiled at him, “Eye’s healed up nicely.”

  “That’s wonderful,” he stood up and gave me a hug, “How’re you holding up otherwise?”

  “Yeah, can we just… not go there? I’d prefer to enjoy myself a bit.”

  “Mmh, sounds about right,” he sat back down on his stool, “So what’s up, ready for the skin graft? Doin' the face today.”

  “Actually, you know what, I’m sorry. That was rude of me,” I glanced down at the floor, “To tell you the truth, it’s… well, it’s been a hard night.”

  “Hm. Know what I’ve learned, is that after a night like that, people oughta get a free pass for bein’ a bit on-edge.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it…” I scratched the back of my head, “Actually I’ve been wondering, is it possible that the Relic is tampering with my memory?”

  “Here, take a seat,” he ushered me over to the chair and sat me down, “I’d say that’s more than possible, but not at this early stage… Why, you having blackouts?”

  “Not exactly,” I frowned, “Johnny mentioned something that happened… but I could swear to you that nothing of the sort ever did, or at least not the way he told me…”

  “Hmm,” Vik thought, “What kind of memory?”

  “One from back in the War.”

  “Ah, right, so nothing recent. Could be that the part of your brain that held it was damaged. Could be that you just repressed it after however-many years, who knows.”

  “That’s… less than helpful.”

  “Hey, I’m not a neurosurgeon, I’m just callin’ the shots as I see ‘em,” he took out his light pen and shone it into my eye, “Well you’re right about the eye, healed up perfect. Still might see some glitches, though.”

  “Why?”

  “Nanites are what’s holdin’ your optic nerve together. Which means that, if they glitch out, your brain’s gonna interpret that as visions.”

  “Right… I’ll have to bear that in mind.”

  “There’s one more thing, though,” he picked up a small pill-looking device, “I found this in your left shoulder when I did the skin graft.”

  “What? Let me see that…” I motioned for him to hand it to me. It looked about the size of a grain of rice, with a faint red glow… “That a transmitter…?”

  “Yup,” he nodded, “Hold that up to a radio and listen to the frequency overpower the speakers.”

  “Who would– Wait… Takemura…?”

  “Would be my guess too,” Vik nodded, “But whoever it is thinks you’ve been sittin’ in this chair all this time. You wanna find out for sure, take this outside and see who knocks on your door first.” Why the hell would he implant a transmitter…?

  “Hm… Well, let’s just finish up with the skin grafts, I guess. I’ll have to think about this.”

  “Sure thing, V,” Vik held out his hand and guided me back to a reclining position.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Also… Maybe a slight haircut as well.”

  I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After the procedures were all said and done, I had to confirm with Vik that all of this was indeed true… the tracker, the memory lapses, everything. It felt so trite, yet that’s part of why I believed it, I think. I felt so annoyed, betrayed, even. Yet I couldn't even blame him. I'd probably have done the same damn thing, just to keep tabs on where the Relic was at all times. I had to remember who I was dealing with. This is a man whom I'm fairly certain has spent almost all of his life as an Arasaka loyalist. I've met many like him, and nothing in the world will ever change his mind. I had no doubt that he would kill me in a heartbeat if it meant bringing Arasaka-Sama back from the dead.

  –

  “So what’s the story with that thing?” Johnny asked me as I thumbed the device while I sat on my bed, patiently waiting for a phone call. Theoretically, now Takemura should know that I'm mobile again. If my theory is correct, he should contact me in a couple hours, a day at the most.

  “Well, I have my sword… Someone knocks, that’ll be the first thing they see. Otherwise… we just wait for a call or text… who knows.”

  “Solid enough plan,” he shrugged, “Hope you’re as good with a sword as your memory claims you are.”

  “I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” I smiled at him before getting up and taking a quick shower.

  I wonder… What about a journal…? Some sort of hard record of my thoughts, my memories… At the very least it’ll help me keep track of who I am, unless that part of me’s already been changed… No… No, just get it done. Right, turn off the shower… sit down… How do we start this… I guess just something that I hold dear to me? How does anyone begin a journal, anyway? Whatever, fine…

  –

  My mother once told me, “Scream until you are heard.” Yet she, herself, never screamed…

  …Remember your name.

  –

  I took a break and thumbed through more of Jackie’s possessions I had packed away… phone… I couldn't unlock that. I mean, I could, but it felt almost unethical, like he would scold me…

  Wait, the iguana egg?! Shit, I can’t believe it didn’t break… Alright, well let’s put that in a bowl, see what happens…

  Hang on… oh, this is that journal entry from Arasaka-Sama’s personal laptop… Hm. “The question is what to do with A. Hellman… He has proven loyal beyond my expectations… given director of Kyoto Institute of Technology… Kept on a short leash…” Hellman… Wait. Anders Hellman? Isn’t he that Swede that Yorinobu spoke to over the phone? So then he likely developed the Relic… Judging by the language Arasaka-Sama was using…

  “The further I am from home, the more the faces of my old enemies become acute, even J.S. I almost forgot about him…” Johnny Silverhand, I presume… “Hanako thinks she should be the one to have a word with Y, or at least accompany me. I declined…” Hm. So she isn’t on that ship, after all? Perhaps it was all a ruse to avoid Arasaka-Sama’s name in the news.

  He went on to say he could wipe Night City off the map in ten minutes… Personally I wouldn’t have blamed him. But I’m glad he didn’t, all the same. He said he deferred to Hanako’s judgement, she advised against Night City’s destruction. And now, with the Relic in play, I doubt they could at any rate… it still shook me, though, to see that Saburo was willing to bury his son under a pile of rubble over all this. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me. You cannot get to his position without being inconceivably ruthless.

  “Unknown Number,” the phone rang. I guess that’s our mystery caller.

  “One guess as to who’s on the other line,” Johnny rolled his eyes as I picked it up.

  “We must meet. Come to Tom’s Diner," the one I assumed was Takemura instructed me.

  “Who is this?”

  “Takemura Goro.”

  “Hmm…” I thought to myself, “Okay. Fifteen minutes.”

  “Do not be late. The bell has already tolled.”

  “I’m well aware. See you soon.” I pocketed the phone and clipped on my sword, throwing on my leather jacket over my Arasaka unitard. I didn’t anticipate him being a problem, but I certainly didn’t trust him to not be one, either. Still, I brought the transmitter with me, just to keep him from suspecting anything.

  “What now?” Johnny asked me as I headed out the door.

  “Now we go meet Takemura.”

  “And if it turns out to be a trap? Guy put a fuckin’ transmitter in your shoulder, V.”

  “I hope it is,” I sneered, “I could use the practice.”

  After everything that’s happened, plus the fact that Takemura placed a subdermal tracker on my person… I wasn’t about to trust this man to get me a coffee, much less to instruct me how to get rid of the device that’s slowly morphing me into a fucking terrorist. But it’s not like I had anyone else lining up to help, and I made a promise to Jackie. So I guess it’s time for me to just swallow my pride and take it up the ass. Just have to assume he knows more than he lets on at all times. And regardless of whatever happens next, I am never letting my sword out of my sight again.

  –

  With no particular rush, I casually walked the four blocks to Tom’s Diner, a favorite spot of Jackie and I back in the day. I swear, everything reminds me of Jackie… everything… This city will be the death of me.

  “Takemura-san,” I courteously bowed, maintaining unyielding eye contact as I entered the restaurant. Plenty of people here eating lunch. I could only assume he selected this location because it's a public place nearby my apartment, not because he actually enjoyed the food here. Smart of him. But it also tells me that the last place he wants to be is in Corpo Plaza, considering how far removed Watson is.

  “V-san,” he returned the gesture before politely motioning for me to sit down. I unhooked Shinden and gently rested it on my lap. “Hmm…” he mumbled, eyeing the katana.

  “What?” I looked at him curiously.

  “Admiring your weapon,” he motioned with his chin, “What is its name?”

  “Shinden. ‘Magnificent Lightning’.” I rested my head on the palm of my hand and hid the sword from view. I could see he had a dead-serious look on his face, making it plainly known that he was reading me like a book.

  “Magnificent, indeed,” he finally complimented, “And I have not seen one of those uniforms in some time, either.” He was immediately drawn to my Arasaka unitard. I'm willing to bet he hadn't seen one of these in a long time. Only a few thousand of us are issued these uniforms. I'm likely only a handful with one who's no longer part of the company. Each of us were issued several models, including some which were unmarked or branded with Militech labels. Anything to get us past the first lines of defense, generally surveillance and sentries.

  “Oh? I’m not wearing it for fashion. I'm just coming prepared.”

  “Hmph, I thought so,” he gave me another slight bow out of respect, “There have been rumors of a samurai mercenary for quite some time. I should have suspected as much of you. Though I never anticipated that you were also a veteran."

  "And I never anticipated that Arasaka-Sama's bodyguard would be willing to have a chat with the mercenary accused of murdering him."

  "We both know you had nothing to do with that. I am here to prove this, nothing more. Though I must say, you look good. Fit for duty, even, considering this month’s events.” He glanced outside, perhaps looking for someone else who might want to drop in on us uninvited.

  “May we get onto the business at-hand?” I spoke to him bluntly.

  “Of course, my apologies,” he gently bowed to me before taking a sip of his coffee, “I often say what I am thinking. But first, would you like anything to eat?”

  “No, thank you.” He was certainly more courteous than Dex, that’s for sure. Though perhaps a little too courteous and refined, at least for my liking. Maybe Night City's colored me these past few years, who knows. But I now found this sort of false respect to be nauseating. This was a man who couldn't care less about my life, only his own, and what was in my head. I was only alive because he needed me to be. I can't stand it when people lie about their motives so blatantly.

  “Mm, very well, then,” his unique cybereyes scanned me up and down. I must admit that they’re quite beautiful to look at, mesmerizing, even, with that glow around the pupil… “As you may have suspected, I have requested this meeting to speak to you about the biochip. I heard that it was damaged. Any attempt to remove it would be fatal for you.”

  “You’re quite well-informed,” I took off my leather jacket and set it aside next to me, still palming my katana, “This was all according to whom?”

  “Viktor, your ripperdoc. He is quite talented, you know. Not many could do what he did.” Fine, I suppose I had to speak his language. Luckily I knew it fairly well.

  “Ah, I see…” I thought for a second, “I don’t mean to be rude. But why do you care if I live or die?”

  “I needed you to live. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Why? For the Relic?”

  “If that is easier for you to believe.” He chose his words carefully, this one. I’ll have to keep on my toes.

  “But it surely cannot be for just the Relic. Otherwise you could just take it out and put it back in an appropriate container, if not your own head.”

  “Mm. To begin with, I need you to tell me how to find Evelyn Parker,” he demanded, setting down his coffee.

  “Evelyn?” I raised an eyebrow, “Why? What is she to you?”

  “She and Yorinobu had intimate relations. She will know how to get to him.”

  “Ah… so this is about revenge,” I grinned, Interesting. That gives me an idea as well. "I can tell you that she orchestrated the Heist, so perhaps her buyer may know how to remove the chip safely.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” his voice was definitive and thoughtful, like an Olympian commanding underlings. Reminds me of my old instructor. “Whomever was buying that is probably long-gone by now.”

  “Mm, true,” I shrugged, “Same with Evelyn.”

  “Why do you think Evelyn, or her buyer, could help? Is she tied to a corporation?”

  “You’re certainly a curious type. You mind me asking why you came to me?” A polite way of saying he's asking too many questions.

  “Because I had a feeling that you would have a lot of interesting things to say,” he complimented me, “And I was right.”

  “While I appreciate the flattery, I’m not quite sure how I may be of service to you,” I spoke with respectful conviction. I'm not planning on being a pushover ever again. With Jackie gone, there's nothing to stop me from saying 'no' anymore. “It seems your mission and my own intersect only as far as the heist itself is concerned. The prospect of revenge offers me no enticement, the man responsible for the heist’s organization is not anyone’s concern anymore, and I fail to see how extracting the Relic forwards your goals beyond proving that Yorinobu stole something of great value. That was already known to you, otherwise you and Arasaka-Sama would never have come here.” I got up and started to head off, “Thank you for your time, but I’m afraid we cannot help each o–”

  “Wait,” he stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder, “You seem quite presumptuous, though observant nonetheless. I have allies willing to help me, but they have not seen what we have seen. I am but one man; I need proof to establish guilt of Yorinobu's treason, not just his hubris. That is why I have contacted you.” His words got me to sit back down. Finally, some fucking honesty.

  “And you think the proof provided by a mercenary will be enough to sway the board members at your hypothetical hearing, samurai or not?”

  “Actions speak louder than words. You know this. Moreover, you have connections here. I am a fugitive, hunted.”

  “And I am not?” I scoffed at him, “The last thing the camera feeds saw was me speeding away with the thief in a vehicle, Relic in-hand. A thief who lay dead in the landfill you found me in.” It pained me to say that of Jackie, but it's imperative that Takemura believed it. The last thing I needed was to give him more ammunition or ways to find me.

  “Yet – what is the phrase – dead men tell no tales.”

  “Mm, and the company we worked for apparently changed that, since here I am,” I grinned.

  “It would seem so.” Takemura's glances betrayed nothing to me.

  “And if I refuse to help you?”

  “Mmh,” he thought for a few seconds, taking a long sip of his coffee, “That is a beautiful sword… However, I am afraid that I can offer no greater reward to someone who carries such an instrument.”

  “But…?”

  “But I can offer you one thing – a chance at clearing your name. Your family name.” Clearing my family name… Trying to appeal to my lineage. Of course, that assumes that he knows who my family is, which is a stretch. Not even internal databases have my family name listed; perhaps servers back in Tokyo. Would he even bother to look any of that up? I doubt it. He was clearly desperate, and probably wanted to clear his own family name. Not that any of that was my concern. Time to turn up the bluntness a little.

  “Out of curiosity, what do you propose we do? We can't just walk into the executive boardroom and proclaim that Yorinobu murdered his father. There are people who build their careers off burying such information. All of whom work for Yorinobu.”

  “We will get a reasonable hearing in front of neutral parties, I can promise you that,” he claimed, “Certain measures I’ve taken will ensure that." He glanced up to the left, disguising it as looking towards the door. Funny how body-language betrays us all. I won't be swayed that easily.

  “What, are you going to use a lie-detector? Not to discount your methods, but you and I both know there are ways around the concept of 'fairness' in these situations.”

  Takemura shuffled in his seat a little, perhaps pondering his options. “Mm, then let me offer you something more substantial. You are dying. And Arasaka is to blame, indirectly-so. After all, it is their invention which rests in your head, killing you slowly but surely. If you help me, I give you my word that I will use whatever resources I can to help you.”

  I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table. “Hm. Resources which neither of us will have access to, being fugitives? That doesn’t bode well.”

  “Ah, yet I still retain knowledge of those who built the Relic. And know how to find them.”

  “People like Anders Hellman?” I raised an eyebrow, referring back to the person from Arasaka-Sama’s diary.

  “Anders Hellman…” he glanced up from his coffee with genuine surprise, “How do you know of this person?”

  “I told you, I came prepared.”

  “Hm, indeed,” he half-smiled, “But no, he escaped Arasaka, betrayed it–”

  He suddenly paused when an interview came up on the television over the bar – wait, is that Hanako?! So Hanako-Sama is in Night City, after all.

  “Now, Hanako-Sama, I would first like to ask you,” the interviewer spoke- Wait, no! The TV!

  “Fuckin’ ‘Saka scum everywhere…” Tom, the diner’s owner, mumbled as he shut off the broadcast. Shit… gonna have to catch a rerun, I suppose.

  “Hey, I was listening to that!” Takemura shouted at Tom.

  “Shut up, nobody but you wants to watch that shit about that corpo cunt.”

  “What did you say?!” he suddenly stood up and held a closed fist behind his back.

  “You heard me!”

  “Takemura!” I got up and shouted, “This is unbecoming of you.”

  “Mm, least one of you’s got some fuckin’ sense,” Tom scoffed at Takemura as he stormed back to the seat, rejoining me while breathing the fire from his lungs.

  “We shouldn’t draw attention,” I accosted him.

  “Mm. Apologies, I do not take kindly to how he described her.”

  “Yeah, neither did I,” I shrugged, “But Tom’s a good guy. He just speaks his mind.”

  “He reminds me of my father,” Takemura thought back, “Worked in kitchens all his life.” Interesting. Arasaka normally wouldn't place someone like him, with that sort of background, in a commanding position like that unless he was extraordinarily talented. I'm impressed.

  “Anyway, I appreciate the offer. Let me think about it and I’ll let you know, is that fair?”

  “Indeed. I need time to plan, organize. But I will be in touch. All I ask is that you do not leave the city.” I’ve certainly thought about leaving the city… Not that I really could.

  “Going now would be a grave mistake. I’m most likely to find the help I need right here,” I said to him, twiddling my thumbs under the table.

  “Yes, there is no alternative. It is Arasaka’s device, only Arasaka will know how to safely remove it.” Perhaps Tokyo. But traveling may be risky, considering the things we bore witness to.

  “Actually, we just discussed some. Hellman is no longer Arasaka, you mentioned. And then there’s Evelyn Parker.”

  “If Evelyn could not help you before, she cannot help you now.”

  “Right, but as evidenced by the fact that I am still breathing and you’re not trying to kill me, I’d say that I’m not being actively hunted by Arasaka right now.”

  “Mm, that is true.”

  “And you still need Evelyn. While she might not be able to extract the Relic herself, both she and her buyers bear the burden of proof. Plus, those buyers might be well-equipped enough to extract the device, assuming they had the recourses to buy it. We shouldn’t make assumptions that someone with knowledge of the Relic wouldn’t know how it works.”

  “A fair point,” he muttered while rotating the empty coffee cup, “Agreed, then.”

  “Then there’s Anders Hellman. He invented it, surely he knows a way to remove it?”

  “Except there’s just one problem. Anders Hellman – what’s the expression – dropped off the face of the Earth. Even I cannot locate him. He defected.”

  “Defected?! What happened? Did another corporation poach him?”

  “As far as I can tell, he acted alone. Planned it very well. Covered his tracks – a meticulous man, he is.”

  “Any idea where he might be?”

  “None.”

  “Alright, and where have you looked?”

  “Everywhere. No corporation has him in their public databases.”

  Hm. Man clearly doesn’t have a recon background. I gave what he said careful consideration regardless, taking a few moments to go over every scenario in my head while idly watching a commercial on the TV.

  “Why were you looking for him, anyway?” I finally asked him.

  “He was the one to alert Saburo-Sama to Yorinobu-san’s schemes. He knew both of them well and could be an important witness.”

  “A witness who wasn’t there.”

  “Nevertheless, I did some digging – I will not sit idly by for days. If he wasn’t in any corporate networks, then I figured he may be in an underground one. All contacts I’ve tried pointed me to one location – the Afterlife club. I was quickly dismissed by the ‘Queen of Fixers’ there – Rogue.”

  “Oh? She allowed me in the club just fine, even though I was Arasaka.”

  “But you aren’t the one Arasaka is accusing of regicide.”

  “Wait, you mean to tell me that you’re the one the company’s blaming?”

  “Mm.” Fuck me… no wonder he needs my help. Moreover, that explains why no special forces showed up at my doorstep - they were probably too busy knocking down his. Working with him will be unquestionably complicated, though.

  “I see…” I muttered to myself, “Then you need me not to clear my name, but your name.”

  “...Indeed,” he frowned.

  I see I finally managed to get through to him - well, somewhat. The day was still young, though, and I felt none of the pressure Dex had applied. At least that buys me time to figure out how to handle all this. “Hmph, I appreciate your candor. For offering me guidance, I’ll see Rogue about Hellman.”

  “Thank you,” he nodded courteously, “Though I warn you, the woman is picky, expensive, and rude.”

  “So am I,” I laughed. Takemura looked over his left shoulder, then out the window for any signs of trouble.

  “I cannot stay here any longer. Pursue either case, it matters not. I must see some friends, call in some favors.” He stood up and gave me a courteous bow, “I will call when I have more information. And one more thing – should you find Hellman, contact me. He and I have unfinished business. Good luck, V.”

  “You too,” I nodded and smiled. With that, Takemura left the diner– Wait… Johnny?! Oh come on, what now…

  “Zapper-dumples and filth, in some ways Night City never changes…” Johnny groaned as he took a seat, slapping the table and staring at me from behind his sunglasses. “Arasaka’s still a despotic machine and the world’s on a collision-course with chaos. But hey, at least Rogue’s still alive.”

  “Oh, you got some nerve!” I shouted, “First you try to kill me, then you egg me on to kill myself, then you make think that I'm losing my mind, and now you’re gonna take a seat across from me and have just a normal conversation? Like you’re my pal or something?!”

  “First off, you are losing your mind. And you know you don’t gotta speak out-loud to talk to me, right?” Suddenly I looked around, horrifically embarrassed because I probably sounded like a schizophrenic or something.

  “Like this?” I thought… about talking to myself… Man, this is bizarre.

  “Uh-huh. So you can think, shocker.”

  “Oh that’s real funny, Johnny,” I sneered, “Now tell me, one day it’s death, today it’s a conversation, what do you want?!”

  “I’ve processed some shit, changed my mind,” he smiled, putting his feet up on the table. I had no idea if this man was being sarcastic or not… manipulative, certainly, “Don’t want you dead anymore.”

  “Oh isn’t that convenient. Go fuck yourself,” I pointed straight at his smug fucking face.

  “Hey, wasn’t easy for me, either. You woke up in a landfill, I woke up in your head. Same thing, honestly. ‘Cept I’m busy wrestling with your thoughts, memories. Think we’re even.”

  “Hardly,” I rolled my eyes, “I don’t seem to remember telling you to commit suicide.”

  “No, but you did impale me with your little trinket of yours,” he took off his glasses and motioned down to my lap, “But that’s okay. Taken a step back. Looked at things. Think we might be able to help each other. Startin’ with Rogue. She and I go back to the Stone Age.”

  “Oh, I can see right through this crap,” I sharply retorted, “You want to use me to hook up with your old buddies for some fucked-up reunion tour, right? Why don’t you tell me why I should trust you?”

  “Trust me, don’t trust me, I don’t give a fuck, least of our worries anyway. And like you said, I’ll have all the time in the world after a month to do exactly that. I’m no premature ejaculator like you." I really wish this asshole would shut the fuck up, but he's right about that - we're running out of time. Or, more specifically, I'm running out of time. But if I had to live for a month with this guy, I'd probably have done myself a favor had I gone through with last night's plan.

  “And you’re a ghost of that Stone Age you mentioned, in case you’ve forgotten. How do you even know Rogue would even be willing to help, or even remember you? People can change a hell of a lot in 50 years.”

  “Johnny Silverhand died a legend, nobody forgets that,” he said angrily, putting his sunglasses back on and staring outside at an unfamiliar world. A world which has forgotten him.

  “Okay, so then what, am I supposed to go to Rogue and tell her I have a talking brain tumor that claims it’s Johnny Silverhand?!”

  “Trust me, Rogue’s heard dumber shit than that. Way back when you weren’t even an itch in your daddy’s ballsack.” Seriously… Ugh.

  “You don’t have to convince me, I’ve seen some of your memories, too… gross…”

  “Rogue’ll dance to any tune I play her, just get us to the Afterlife.”

  “There is no us,” I bared my teeth as I collected my sword and jacket and got up, leaving Johnny to dissipate behind me.

  I clutched at my forehead in sheer frustration at his hubris, just showing up like nothing had happened. I've had my share of manipulative assholes; comes from growing up in a prominent noble house. We were bred to hide our true feelings. As far as I'm concerned, this should be nothing more than a simple taste of home. Yet I found myself reeling back from a pang of horrific anxiety. After Dex, I just cannot be fucked over again. Used and discarded again. Part of me wanted to believe Johnny, but another part of me knew well the dangers of listening to charismatic people with no emotional balance.

  I probably shouldn’t be making such a comparison, bringing up Dex like that, though. Hell, I’d be horribly pissed and confused if I’d woken up over a half-century in the future in someone else’s brain. I can’t fault Johnny for that. I only hope he doesn’t make this ulterior motive bullshit a habit. I have enough to worry about without dealing with another cunt in my life.