"...Good morning, Night City."
"Yesterday's Body-Count Lottery? The final tally was a solid thirty!"
"Thanks to nonstop gang wars, Heywood alone added ten."
"And a police officer died too—looks like everyone's losing money on that one. The NCPD sure won't let it slide…"
Berry yawned awake, quietly rolled over the still-sleeping V, sat on the edge of the bed, blinked herself into focus, pushed back her messy hair, then got up to switch off the radio playing the morning show.
Grabbing one of V's jackets to throw on, she walked to the vending machine, tapped it a few times—clang, clang—and cans and packets dropped into the tray.
Two cans of black coffee. One bag of instant burritos.
That was breakfast—the start of their day.
Berry was always the one who "cooked," because V loved to sleep in.
Though "cooking" just meant emptying the burrito bag onto a plate and microwaving it—sometimes not even heating it when they were in a rush.
In 2077, instant food was everywhere. As long as you had money, it was filling—synthetic protein and sugary dough that kept you going all day. Healthy? Don't ask.
Fresh vegetables and meat were luxuries for the rich. Every morning, drones delivered greenhouse-picked produce and fresh cuts to the kitchens of the wealthy, where chefs made proper meals—unlike the unrecognizable mush the poor ate, or the one-euro pizzas with a 20–30% mortality rate.
"Uuuh…" V stretched like a kitten, finally waking up. She squinted for a long moment, looking miserable.
"Shit… should've known better than to finish that whole bottle of tequila last night. Fake as hell—my head's still spinning."
V grabbed her head, groaning. This only happened when she drank too much—or when her period hit.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have finished it."
Berry rolled her eyes as she pulled the burritos from the microwave. She didn't even have energy to complain anymore—V did this all the time, always bouncing back, always forgetting her regrets, until the next time she messed up.
In the game, V was the type who'd slap on some shady braindance she found in an alley—easily the punkest punk in Night City.
"Also, V-sis, you should get up already. Didn't you say Jackie needed you this morning?"
"Oh, right. That thing."
V tapped her forehead and dragged herself out of bed. She hated being late—and hated waiting or being waited on.
No one in their right mind would leave someone hanging for days or weeks after agreeing to meet.
Berry opened the window, lifting the blinds to reveal the already frantic streets outside.
By then V had washed up, sitting on the sofa with her share.
The cold can had a frosty sheen. The plate held half a burrito, tomato and beef bits inside, still steaming.
"Ugh—wrong one. This is yours, Berry."
A sip of the coffee made V wince as if she'd nearly thrown up. She grabbed the wrong cup.
Berry must've been a soda taste-tester in a past life. She adored carbonated drinks—she even mixed that neon-blue mini-cola into her coffee.
"No little cola, no joy in life." Berry huffed and took a big sip.
Forks in hand, they finished their halves. Neither of them ate much—one burrito split in two was enough.
"Burritos and coffee—never gets old."
Finishing the last bite, V smiled, satisfied with small, cheap happiness.
"By the way, V-sis, I've got a gift for you."
Remembering something, Berry set down her fork, pulled her black duffel bag onto the sofa, and rummaged through it.
"Oh? What is it?"
V perked up, watching her with interest.
"A gun I modded. Big and heavy—and it'll turn your enemies into Swiss cheese!"
Berry held up the SMG she'd pulled from the bag.
"M221 Saratoga. Militech. Those corpos are scum, but damn—they make good guns."
"I added a laser sight, an auto-calibration chip, a long mag, plus some tuning on the body. More power, less horizontal recoil."
V examined the half-arm-long SMG, nodding nonstop. "A masterpiece! Berry, being a merc is a waste of your talent. If you joined Militech or Arasaka as a tech, you'd make a fortune."
"Nah, I like being free. Don't wanna be some corp dog." Even so, Berry proudly puffed out her chest—zero modesty about V's praise.
And why would she? It was a [Rare] item according to her system—not some junk you could find on any street corner.
Berry had a system.
For some unknown reason, she had brought the Cyberpunk-game system into reality, complete with attribute points and skill points.
At first she wanted to spec into Body—go full shotgun brute, blasting her way up Arasaka Tower. Or put everything into Reflexes—SMGs or pistols blazing.
But in the end, she chose Tech—seemingly non-combat—only to discover it was broken.
In the game, crafting could only make guns, clothes, and some cyberware mods.
But in reality, there were no limits.
Robots, tanks, power armor—hell, even nuclear bombs. Give her enough materials and she could build anything.
She alone was worth more than the world's best precision machine shops combined.
Her current stats looked like this:
Level: 29
Body: 8
Reflexes: 14
Technical Ability: 18
Intelligence: 5
Cool: 5
With eighteen Tech, she could easily craft legendary-grade weapons. The only thing holding her back was money—she simply couldn't afford all the materials.
With the system's help, Berry was basically a walking high-precision machine tool. Give her two broken radios and she could build you a 4080ti.
Her other stats weren't great. Body 8—normal humans had around 3, so 8 was athletic-level.
But compared to the chrome-stuffed mercs out there, it wasn't much.
Her 14 Reflexes, though, made her a dangerous fighter—pair that with a revolver and machine-level reaction speed, and hitting every shot was the minimum.
That alone was enough to make a name in Night City.
But Berry knew the truth: in a cyberpunk world, there were plenty of strong people.
Johnny Silverhand—strong enough to nuke Arasaka Tower. A legend among legends.
Still died to Adam Smasher.
Adam Smasher—terrifying as he was—was just a bodyguard for the Arasaka family.
And V—Night City's living legend—destroyed Arasaka in the Sun ending.
But even then? She only became the boss of Afterlife.
Now look at Saburo Arasaka—just an old man, yet the head of a corporation whose influence covered the globe, and the mastermind or participant of four corporate wars that plunged half the world into chaos.
In a cyberpunk world, even someone as strong as V couldn't change how rotten it was.
Berry saw hope in her system—manufacturing.
Her near-maxed-out crafting ability allowed her to create almost any technological product in the world, so long as she had a sample or blueprint—and the right materials.
Technology is the first productive force, and she herself was basically a tech corporation—one operating at the world's cutting edge.
As long as she built her own power base in Night City, she believed she could rewrite the tragedies that befell V, Jackie, Silverhand, and countless others. She could change the world and sweep the corpos into the dustbin of history.
And to achieve something that grand, she needed V's help. Berry looked at her, eyes shining, voice sweet.
"...V-sis, um… could you lend me some more money?"
The same Berry who, a second ago, wanted to change the world was now rubbing her hands together, looking embarrassed.
Even heroes falter over a single eddie. Her plan needed a mountain of funding, and she had already squeezed every last bit of her own job earnings dry.
And now she needed to borrow from V again.
She already ate V's food, lived in V's place, and now kept asking V for money. Berry felt guilty—her gaze drifting, her face burning hot.
"Oh, I knew it. Today isn't a holiday or anything, so why would you suddenly give me a gift? Turns out you were setting me up for this."
V grinned as she watched Berry squirm.
"Please! I'll definitely pay you back!"
Berry pressed her palms together and leaned forward in a desperate bow, showing her pitifully empty arsenal.
"Alright, alright." V waved dismissively. "It's for that big 'master plan' of yours again, right? Didn't I say this before? My money is your money. Don't feel embarrassed."
"So, how much this time?" V asked boldly.
"Hehe, not much, just… three thousand eddies."
"Three thousand!?"
V almost snorted coffee out her nose.
That was what she earned from two or three high-paying gigs.
"Hehehe…" Berry covered her mouth with her tiny hands, smiling sheepishly, even blinking cutely at V.
"O… okay."
Despite the pain in her heart, V trembled as she transferred the money.
Thanks to this girl who burned eddies like water, V lived far more broke than she did in the game. Even her plan to buy a car had collapsed—though Berry did help her fix her old junker with salvaged parts, using her insane craftsmanship. Whether that was a blessing or a curse… hard to say.
Even without knowing what Berry was up to, V still supported her. She was family, after all. Thinking this made V feel a bit better…
Classic self-gaslighting.
"V! You're the best!"
Berry squealed, pouncing onto V like a cat, knocking her onto the sofa.
"Alright, alright!"
V laughed and stroked her hair as Berry nuzzled into her chest like a spoiled kitten. "You're a grown woman, but you act like a child."
She said it, but there wasn't a hint of blame on her face.
Breathing in V's scent, Berry was thrilled.
With V's generous donation, she finally had all the remaining materials she needed. Her prototype was about to be born—how could she not be excited?
In her excitement, Berry buried her face into V's "arsenal" and took a deep, greedy sniff.