The trip in Delamain's luxurious car was relatively peaceful. However, on the way, they came across a shootout.
Tiger Claws vs. the Maelstrom.
The latter was a gang obsessed with chrome to the point that they don't care if the implants are low quality; they could shove anything into their bodies.
"..." Allen watched the Maelstrom. These guys were creepy. One of them didn't have a face; instead, a red lens in the middle of his face, as if he were some kind of machine. Another had six red lenses stacked across his face instead of eyes.
The Maelstrom are also obsessed with removing their faces and making themselves look more inhuman. They often replace their eyes with red visors that make them look like robots, or even leave holes in their faces as if they wanted to destroy every trace of their humanity, and perhaps that is their goal.
Most of them seem on the verge of cyberpsychosis, something they do intentionally. They seek cyberpsychosis as if it were a state superior to consciousness, as demonstrated by their philosophy: "Flesh is weakness."
"If the goal of these lunatics is to stop looking like people... then they're doing a pretty good job," Allen said.
Rebecca burst out laughing. "That's true! I haven't done that yet. Welcome to Night City!~"
"..." Allen gave her an exasperated look. This girl had said more than once that she hated this city, and this world even more, yet now she seemed happy while enjoying the scenery.
...
Yoruichi – Hey, how can he eat like that?
Felicia – Of all the things you could ask, that's the first thing that comes to mind?
Akeno – Ufufu... putting aside the madness in the air, so far, the worlds Allen has visited have had more of a fantastical influence than a technological one. Seeing flying cars and these modifications makes me look at humanity differently.
Rei – What do you mean?
Rias – In Eve and Amanda's world, there was advanced technology, but it was mixed with a superhero world. This world, on the other hand, is entirely technological, and despite that, humanity has developed its civilization to the point where it seems like 'magic.'
Esdeath – Although in the process, they've nearly destroyed themselves several times. Heh~
Akeno – That's true~.
Rias – Well... at least they don't seem as helpless as the people in our world.
....
Allen stopped paying attention to the Chat when a stray bullet struck the window.
"Hey, are we safe, Delamain?" Allen asked.
He wasn't worried about getting involved in the party, but Delamain's service was expensive, and if he was going to get caught in a shootout, they could at least give him a discount. It wasn't like Allen had many Eddies at the moment.
Allen's money appeared floating in front of him.
[€$ 345]
Those were the only Eddies he had stolen from the Tiger Claws he had encountered when he arrived, and Delamain's fare for this little trip was two hundred Eddies! It was a complete robbery!
Allen sighed. While he could simply steal a vehicle, he didn't want to risk another chase. "Speaking of that, it's incredible that the currency is still backed by Europe."
Delamain seemed to take a moment to process Allen's question.
"Yes... it has been that way since the economic collapse..."
The AI didn't understand Allen's comment. Its information said that he was twenty-three years old, so why would someone so young comment on something that had happened long before his birth?
"Oh, hahaha, that guy just got his head blown off!" Rebecca said.
The girl was enjoying the shootout as if it were a Disneyland attraction. Allen was already accustomed to this side of Rebecca and didn't react.
....
When they entered Santo Domingo, they encountered another shootout.
"These guys look different from the gangs we saw earlier..." Allen commented.
"Come on, don't tell me you don't recognize them?" Rebecca laughed. "Oh, you've spent so much time dealing with interdimensional trouble that you forgot about your gamer-nerd days~."
Allen didn't respond, but he couldn't deny that it had been a long time since he'd simply sat down to play a video game, and with his current responsibilities and problems, it seemed like something from a distant past.
Rebecca smiled before turning around and sitting astride his lap.
"See those guys dressed like a mix between retired soldiers, mercenaries, and militia members? They're the 6th Street gang. They were created as a veteran force made up of survivors of the Fourth Corporate War, but at some point they became corrupted and started extorting people and trafficking weapons. They're the dominant gang in Santo Domingo, but overall, they're less insane than the others."
Allen smiled while looking at Rebecca, whose face was only inches from his. "Oh, I remember now. It wouldn't be a bad idea to get some supplies from their workshops and warehouses."
Hearing his words, Rebecca began breathing heavily. Raiding a weapons warehouse was more seductive than any ordinary flirtation.
"Mr. Walker... would you like me to change the route to a motel?" Delamain asked.
One had to admit that the AI was quite considerate. Instead of interrupting them directly, he simply offered a suggestion.
"You're not going to charge me more, are you?" Allen growled. He had seen the extra fee for altering the preset route and had almost cursed.
"Haha," Rebecca laughed before kissing Allen's cheek. "I love that you're stingy, even though you can create diamonds out of thin air❤️~."
Allen coughed and looked out the window after seeing half a man's body fly through the air and land on the hood after being blown up by a grenade.
"Okay, these guys don't mess around. And who are they fighting?" Allen asked, frowning.
Rebecca smiled, pressing her body against his. "They're the Valentinos. They've always hated each other, so seeing clashes between the two gangs is nothing unusual."
Allen watched both groups. Unlike the Tiger Claws and Maelstrom, whose fight looked like a battle between cyborgs, these two gangs looked like cartel members versus militia. It was strange how much Night City's aesthetic could change simply by switching districts.
"Hey, Rebecca, I almost forgot. Weren't you living in Watson?"
Rebecca and her brother's iconic apartment was in the Watson district, Northside, or so Allen understood.
"Ah... well, that will be in the future. At this point, we didn't have enough money for that place, so we lived in Santo Domingo," Rebecca answered with amusement.
Allen looked into Rebecca's eyes. Her life had been very difficult. For starters, she had been born in this city, which meant that from the moment she was born, she had already been playing the game on hard mode.
"Becca—"
Just as Allen was about to speak, a man jumped onto the hood, followed by a hail of bullets that struck the vehicle.
Allen watched in surprise. "Originally, I thought the madness in this world came from cyberpsychosis caused by shoving too many implants into your body, but I take it back. People are crazy with or without implants."
"That's true," Rebecca said.
"I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience," Delamain said as he appeared. "I will resolve it immediately."
The vehicle released an electric discharge that electrocuted the man who was taking cover from the bullets. It then accelerated and left the area. From inside the vehicle, Allen watched as the 6th Street member, still convulsing on the ground, was killed by a member of the Valentinos.
"You just became an accomplice to murder, Delamain," Allen teased. "I'm sure Grandpa Asimov wouldn't be happy."
Rebecca also looked at the AI curiously. Despite having lived her entire life in Night City, this was the first time she had used Delamain's luxury taxi service.
Delamain remained silent for a moment before responding.
"Our highest priority is always the satisfaction and protection of our customers... and I apologize, but I do not know any gentleman named Asimov."
Allen, Rebecca, and the Chat fell silent.
Asimov's Laws were a standard in most worlds, stating that robots could not harm humans. Did that mean this AI lacked those principles?
"Well, that's interesting," Allen said, looking into the eyes of the supposedly non-sentient artificial intelligence. "So, let's say a gang shows up and tries to fill me with bullets. Would you help me?"
"No. My job is to take you to your destination. We are not a mercenary support service, but I would ensure that you arrive safely regardless of the obstacles..."
Once again, everything fell silent. The people in the Chat realized that Delamain was an extremely dangerous artificial intelligence. If this were Marvel, governments would already be alarmed. But here, not only did nobody care, they even allowed him to operate as a private transportation service. What kind of madness was this?
"I just have one more question," Allen said, narrowing his eyes.
Rebecca slipped her hand into her jacket to pull out her shotgun if necessary. Tension filled the air while Delamain continued observing Allen.
"Go ahead, Mr. Walker. I will do my best to understand and satisfy your curiosity."
"Will this cost me extra?"
"Huh?" Rebecca looked at Allen in disbelief.
The people in the Chat were in a similar situation. Allen was practically talking to some kind of Skynet or Ultron, and he was asking something like that!
Delamain paused before responding cheerfully. "Of course not. Our protection service is already included in the VIP fare you requested."
Allen shrugged. "Oh, well, then that's fine."
"Yes," Delamain replied, and for an instant, his eyes filled with interest in this peculiar customer.
Rebecca slapped her forehead before crossing her arms and deciding to forget the whole thing. If Allen wasn't worried, neither was she.
Erza – "You're incredible..."
MJ – "It's better not to think about it..."
....
The Santo Domingo district had a drier and sunnier atmosphere, even somewhat dirty.
Allen felt strange about it. Watson had felt like a futuristic dystopian New York, a cold city trying to pretend it was the future, but its alleys full of gang members, homeless people, and glitter lovers wouldn't let them forget what it really was.
In Westbrook, he had felt like entering a place that emulated a fusion of futuristic Miami and Tokyo, with beautiful vehicles and an ostentatious aesthetic. But now, in Santo Domingo, it felt like he was in Los Angeles.
"It's as if every district has its own climate..." Allen murmured.
Rebecca laughed. "It's just the aesthetic. Every district has its own, which makes it feel like there are six different cities stuck together."
"Maybe you're right."
In the distance, Allen saw a large number of factories, workshops, and warehouses. Apparently, Santo Domingo was the industrial district, although considering they had been welcomed by a violent spectacle, it didn't seem like the ideal place to live.
"Delamain, what can you tell me about Santo Domingo?"
Rebecca was annoyed that Allen had asked the AI instead of her, but Allen wanted precise and summarized information since they were about to reach their destination.
"As you wish, Mr. Walker."
"Santo Domingo is one of Night City's most industrial and contrasting districts. It lies in the southeastern area, bordering Heywood and Pacifica to the west, Westbrook to the north, and the Badlands to the east.
"It is one of the oldest districts in the city and was relatively spared from the destruction of the Fourth Corporate War, so it served as a temporary refuge.
"Today, it is a corporate testing ground: companies tear down old factories to build new ones, while people survive in overcrowded megabuildings or the houses of Rancho Coronado."
"I see..." Allen said while looking at the massive building in the distance. "Thanks, Delamain"
"You're welcome, sir"
...
Once they arrived, Delamain appeared once again.
"Thank you for choosing Delamain," the AI said, waiting for the transfer before opening the doors.
"..." Allen snorted and made the payment.
When they stepped out of the taxi, they were standing in front of Megabuilding H6.
Megabuildings are vertical towers containing thousands of identical apartments, with the ones on the lower levels being cheaper and more cramped, while those higher up are generally better. Private security is weak or almost nonexistent, so it's better not to count on anyone saving you if trouble comes your way. On top of that, gang control is strong on the lower levels.
[It's huge...]
"Of course. They have everything on a small scale, from stores to clinics, all kinds of shops, and even jobs. There are gyms, gun stores, basically small cities. Some people go years without ever leaving them... Of course, the one thing they don't have is Ripperdocs, but someone who's looking for one isn't exactly the kind of person who would stay home for years."
"Yeah..."
Rebecca began walking toward the enormous entrance.
Allen followed behind her. On either side, there were several members of 6th Street who turned to look at them, but when they saw Rebecca, they stopped. Gangs and mercs don't get into conflicts unless the situation calls for it. It would just be pointless bloodshed otherwise.
When they entered the first floor, Allen saw several fast-food shops, clothing stores, stores selling necessities, and some people who were simply sitting on the floor.
"Come on..." Rebecca said with her hands in her pockets as she walked toward a huge elevator.
"Tch, that damn Maine. I'll beat him up even harder just for making me come back to the time when I lived here..." Rebecca growled.
"Haha."
They went up several dozen floors until they reached the middle-upper section of the Megabuilding. Allen was surprised that Rebecca lived in the "good" apartments, but then remembered that by this time she should have already started working as a merc with Maine, one of the few jobs that allowed you to live decently in this city if you weren't part of the privileged class. Of course, at the risk of dying every day.
They got off the elevator and walked through the long hallways.
On the left, Allen saw the many apartments, some with graffiti-covered doors, others with piles of garbage in front of them, others marked with police tape, and one that even had its door broken and bloodstains at the entrance.
On the right, Allen saw the empty center of the Megabuilding. It was as if four enormous apartment buildings formed a square, leaving a huge open space in the center. For some reason, however, the ceiling was covered, giving the impression that there was an abyss beneath them.
"By the way, Lenalee, I'm not going to run into another Rebecca... as if this were some episode of that fucking show The X-Files, right?!"
Allen laughed. Rebecca's concern was normal. If they rewound the world, everything that had happened would be undone, including Rebecca's death.
[Hey, who do you think you're talking to?! Hmph. I used the existential anchor. So, there's only one Rebecca—you.]
"Thanks~" Rebecca said, pretending to be cute.
Allen shook his head and looked ahead, toward where the last door in the hallway could be seen.
"Rebecca?"
"..." Rebecca stopped before reaching it.
Allen thought she was nervous and wanted to touch her shoulder, but at that moment, a group of three men approached them.
Two of them wore baseball caps, all three wore tactical vests, and one had a tattoo of the old American flag on his cheek. They were also armed; two carried shotguns, while the third had a high-caliber revolver.
"What do you want?" Allen asked with a frown. He had already gotten used to the rules of this world: everyone wants to kill you, so shoot first whenever possible.
"Don't get involved. This is with the girl," one of them mocked. "Hey, Rebecca, tell your brother we still haven't received the shipment of weapons, and the 'General' is getting impatient!"
"Ah... my stupid brother again..." Rebecca said in frustration, but soon smiled. It had been years since she had to deal with Pilar's problems. "I'll tell him..."
The three men seemed confused. They were used to Rebecca reacting violently, usually with a barrage of insults, but instead, she simply agreed.
"This doesn't matter..."
The three men felt that they had lost their opportunity to annoy Rebecca, so they decided to leave. As they passed Allen, three small chips popped out of their neuroports, and Allen caught them.
+129
+78
+567
Allen cursed. These guys didn't have any money on them.
In Cyberpunk, people usually carry Credchips/datashards in their neuroports. This isn't money they have in some banking institution; it's the equivalent of pocket money, and many Netrunners like Lucy spend their free time stealing these credchips from people.
"Well, something is better than nothing..." Allen said. He had to recover his investment in the implants. "Wait, this is 2072. That means my debt doesn't exist!"
[Don't worry. I made sure to modify that too, to avoid paradoxes like you having implants that don't even exist yet. Hehe, you're welcome~]
"You!"
Rebecca smiled at Allen. This had improved her mood. Without any more hesitation, she walked toward the door, and just as she seemed about to knock, she kicked it.
Bam!
"Stupid brother, get your ass over here right now!" Rebecca shouted.
"Uwa!"
A thin, naked man suddenly jumped in surprise in front of Allen, apparently in the middle of an intimate moment.
"Bitch, you're still alive?!" Pilar, Rebecca's brother, shouted. "You hadn't come back in three days! I thought you were already dead or something! Hahaha!"
Rebecca trembled when she saw her brother's miserable appearance and became angry. Without warning, she jumped at him and kicked him in the chest.
"You fucking bastard! Your cute little sister goes missing, and what do you do? You spend your time m***urbating in the living room?! I'll kill you!"
"Ahh! Help! Somebody help me with this flat-chested, assless demon!"
"I'll really kill you!"
"Touching..." Allen said, watching the emotional family reunion without interrupting.
[...]
====
A/N: Rebecca missed her brother until she remembered what a total asshole he wassted, assless demon!"
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