The old off-road vehicle stopped beneath the antenna tower. V climbed up to look for a signal, while Berry stayed in the car.
The scorching wind slapped against their skin, adding to the irritation. Everywhere the eye could see was barren—sun-bleached and shimmering gold.
The Badlands weren't called the Badlands for nothing.
Massive development and excessive mining had turned huge stretches of land into dead soil. You could forget about finding an unpolluted spring, or even a stalk of corn tough enough to break through the crust.
Water. Food. Everything was a precious resource here.
Those rebels unwilling to rot in the cities formed wandering nomad families, roaming the desert like wolves, fighting each other over resources that had once been abundant back when the sky was still blue.
Berry and V's old Bakker clan had been one of those families. But that was in the past—they'd left, heading toward Night City for a new life.
"…Hey, V-sis, you figure out where he is?"
V hopped down from the tower and returned to the car. Berry handed her a half-finished bottle of mineral water.
V took it, chugged it dry in a few gulps, and finally let out a satisfied sigh.
"Of course. When has big sister V ever failed? McCoy found him—an abandoned shack. Let's go."
V grinned confidently, sweat still beading on her face. The sunlight framed her features like a glowing halo, making her look even more striking.
Berry watched her with a smile.
If this had been earlier, she definitely would've been flustered at this indirect-kiss moment. But now, the two of them were close enough that such things didn't matter.
If sharing a water bottle made her blush, then what about nights when she slept curled up with the gorgeous V? She'd probably faint.
Not that she didn't want to romance V—please. Who wouldn't be tempted with such a stunning girl constantly in front of them?
But Berry had a hang-up. Something that always stopped her from making a move.
She just couldn't act dominant around V—not even a little. Any sense of "male pride" she once had evaporated whenever V was around.
When she'd first crossed into this world, she had been physically helpless—weak as a baby chick. If not for V taking her in, caring for her like an older sister, teaching her how to shoot and drive, she probably would've been kicked out of the clan to die in the dust.
Because of that, Berry always felt like the weaker one, making it hard to confess her feelings.
And that was only one reason.
The bigger issue… was that this was V.
Short hair, tank top, abs—she radiated top-energy.
If they actually got together, Berry had every reason to fear she would be the one pinned underneath.
Anything else she could compromise on. But not that.
Whenever she fantasized and pictured that scene, she immediately shut it down with a big red X.
She could tolerate being in a girl's body only by clinging to a shred of "manly dignity." If she ever ended up being flipped over like some helpless girl, she felt like something important would be gone forever—the fear that both body and soul would fully become a woman.
So no. Absolutely not.
If she was going to win V, it had to wait until she became a Night City legend—a real big shot—then she'd pound V into the mattress and turn her "big sister" into a very different kind of big sister.
Driving up front, V could never have guessed that her sweet little "baby sister" in the back was plotting exactly how to rail her senseless.
The red off-road car sped through the barren highway. Low hills, clusters of cacti and shrubs blurred past, with only the occasional rusted tin shack as proof that humans had once reached this place.
But sand and time erode all things. Everything eventually loses its form—just like those ruined shacks, howling in the dry wind. Their owners were likely long dead in some ditch… or rotting in the neon hell of Night City, dying of gunshots or overdoses.
After turning onto a side road, the abandoned shack V mentioned came into view.
They parked, grabbed their gear, and stepped inside.
Believe it or not, Berry played the "quick-draw gunner" role in their duo. With her modified revolver, she could pop six skulls in three seconds. Places where negotiations were doomed to fail were perfect opportunities for her skills.
Like now—the revolver at her hip could be out in 0.2 seconds.
But she wouldn't actually use it. The guy inside was Jackie—V's future best friend.
And her uncanny marksmanship? That wasn't a natural gift. It was System-granted.
"…I'm so broke I might as well start farming. Ah—guess you're here for me?"
The inside dimmed before their eyes adjusted, revealing a big man sprawled on a couch, boots propped on a crate.
It was Berry's first time seeing the real Jackie Welles—in the flesh, not in a game.
Huge and tough-looking, trying hard to act smooth but honestly coming off a bit goofy. Yet Berry knew he had a big heart—half passion, half love for family and friends. The kind who'd take a bullet for a brother.
"Heard you've got some cargo for us to move?"
V always handled negotiation. Berry's soft, cute appearance didn't exactly scream "authority" or "underworld professional."
"Uh, where I'm from… before talking business, we open up a bit first. A custom. A courtesy, you know?"
V crossed her arms and smirked. "Didn't expect you to be the type who cares about etiquette."
"Everyone's gotta have some backbone, hermano—uh, hermana. When they take everything else from you, that's all that's left."
Clearly, Jackie was a man of principles.
"Sure. You go first."
V shrugged casually.
Jackie lifted his pistol proudly. "Born and raised in Night City. Got Heywood blood in me."
Heywood—a place filled with gangs and grudges. If you looked carefully, you'd find fresh corpses in the alleys every day.
"I've never been to Night City. Doesn't mean anything to me," V replied, uninterested.
Jackie scratched his cheek, changing his approach. "Okay, then imagine a place where everyone's like family—siblings, or at least cousins."
"Ah. I get it. You might not like everyone, but they're your own."
Both V and Berry smiled. When it came to family, nobody understood better than nomads. Besides the clan, the only things outside were wasteland, raiders, and crazies.
"Yeah, that's Heywood. Also… everyone's strapped."
Shit—V almost wanted to ask if Night City had nomad clans too. Nomads even slept with guns. Out here, a gun was your grandfather—lose it and you were dead.
"Let's just say… our place was a Heywood too."
"Then we're gonna get along great." Jackie was surprised. Was the Badlands the same as the city—everyone scraping by with guns?
"There's three of us."
V placed a hand on Berry's shoulder.
"This little… uh, girl is coming too?"
Jackie finally got a good look at Berry and his brows shot up.
Sure, he'd seen plenty of tough street girls—hell, half of the Mox were women—but a baby-faced kid doing smuggling work? First time.
"Hey, don't underestimate her. She can put six holes in somebody in under a second."
"…Okay, okay." Jackie didn't argue. With cyberware these days, judging someone's age by their face was foolish anyway.
"Here. The cargo."
Jackie kicked over the crate.
"What's inside?" V crossed her arms, already guessing.
"Best way to sleep at night is not knowing. So I dunno. Which is good."
Clearly he knew the rules.
"You don't know what we're smuggling? This stuff was stolen from a corp."
V wasn't buying it. Different goods meant different risks—sneaking immigrants was not the same as sneaking radioactive materials.
"'Stolen'?" Jackie scoffed. "Heh. Some idiot lost it, another idiot found it, then another, and so on. What's it called… butterfly effect."
While they talked, Berry crouched down and examined the crate.
"It's fine, V-sis. The casing is polyurethane polymer—good insulation. Used for preserving cold or refrigerated cargo, usually organs or live biologicals."
She already knew it was a live iguana—she'd played the game—but nothing she said was untrue. And with her System, she could identify practically any synthetic material, and given enough junk, she could probably build a giant robot.
"Oh hell, your partner's a chemist? Or a materials scientist?" Jackie exclaimed.
"Just a little talent." Berry stood, looking smug. "And I'm Berry. Nice to meet you, Jackie!"
Despite his tough looks, Jackie wasn't dumb—he was even sensitive enough to tell sincerity from politeness.
And right now, he could tell Berry's enthusiasm was real—not forced. Warmer than V's guarded friendliness, even—like she already saw him as an old friend.
The thought made him chuckle at himself. Old friends? They'd just met. Still, he reached out.
"Jackie Welles." He grinned and shook her small hand. "Berry—sweet strawberry. Fits you, chica."
"Okay, business first. Let's load the crate," V cut in abruptly, stepping between them and breaking up the handshake barely a second in.