Japantown, Westbrook's most prosperous district.
Towering skyscrapers everywhere, crammed with clothing megastores, arcades, casinos, discos… basically every flashy distraction designed to drain your wallet. Tourists love it, locals love it too.
But when V extended the invitation, Berry raised a puzzled brow. Going out was always nice, but why now? They still had blood on them that hadn't even been washed off.
Her silence made V's face flush hot. Jackie, at the wheel, kept signaling with his brows not to worry, that things were under control. But V's mind was chaos—she didn't even know where to put her hands.
The plan to invite Berry out had been Jackie's idea. His advice: if you want to chase a girl, you've got to strike like a predator. Take her out, share food, maybe sneak in a hug or two—the chemistry will follow.
But saying it was easy. When it came time to actually ask, V was a wreck. Her face burned all the way to her ears, body stiff, unable to meet Berry's eyes.
She'd taken Berry out before without a second thought. But now, with her intentions changed—no longer casual, but deliberately scheming, hoping for something more—she was so nervous she forgot who she was.
"Jackie and Misty too?" Berry misunderstood, thinking V meant a double date. "That's fine. I've been wanting to relax anyway."
She agreed, but not in the way V had hoped. V wanted it to be just the two of them, to spark something more. She shot Jackie a desperate look.
"Actually, Berry, Misty and I can't make it. We've got something that day." Jackie, ever the wingman, jumped in to give them space.
"Works for me, V. Just us two. I've been meaning to hit the flea market in Japantown—great place for second‑hand parts." Berry found V's behavior odd, but chalked it up to her being tired.
Awkward as it was, the plan was set. V exhaled in relief, slumping into her seat like melted wax.
But Jackie suddenly stiffened at the wheel.
"Hold up, don't relax yet, V. Something's wrong." His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He pressed the accelerator.
Rain streaked the asphalt. Streetlamps glared white, scattering the darkness.
In the mirror, Jackie spotted a truck tailing them. Even after two turns, it stayed close. "Knew it. That truck's shadowing us."
As if realizing it had been spotted, the truck roared forward, swerving into their lane ahead.
"Chingado… this is bad, V. Real bad." Jackie's eyes widened as the truck's doors swung open. "Scavvers! ¡Hijos de puta!"
Two scavengers leaned out, assault rifles leveled. V and Berry instantly shifted into combat mode, guns out the windows.
The firefight erupted. Jackie wrenched the wheel, tires screaming, barely keeping their car from being shredded.
V's Saratoga spat fire, riddling the truck with holes. The scavvers toppled, bodies crushed under tires. The car jolted violently, V's weapon spraying skyward.
The truck braked hard, nearly causing a collision. Jackie twisted the wheel, skidding onto the sidewalk, scattering pedestrians.
"Sorry!" Jackie shouted, forcing the car back onto the road. But the truck wasn't done—it rammed from the side, metal shrieking.
The impact tossed them like clothes in a washing machine. Berry slammed face‑first into the seat base, dazed. Jackie's side crumpled, glass exploding across him. He gritted his teeth, clinging to the wheel.
V clung to the roof, pain stabbing her waist. She raised her gun, rain soaking her, and fired into the truck's open side door. Scavvers fell before they could unleash their own barrage.
"V, hit the driver!" Jackie yelled. Sparks flew as the vehicles scraped together, threatening to crush them into storefronts.
V's bullets shattered windows but missed the driver. Her gun clicked empty.
"Shit, I'm out!"
Just as the truck swerved for another deadly ram, three sharp shots rang out.
One bullet tore the steering wheel. Another shredded the driver's arm. He kept driving, drug‑numbed to pain.
The final shot pierced his forehead. His skull burst like a melon, gore splattering the cab. The truck veered, smashing into a building in a fiery explosion.
Jackie and V sped past, catching only the bloom of fire in the rearview.
In the back, Berry slumped against the door, her purple‑painted "Vitamin B" pistol still smoking.
She panted, shaken. Was this world set to Extreme Difficulty? Every fight felt like a near‑death.
"Nice shooting, Berry!" V pulled her back into her seat. Jackie exhaled, still rattled. "Almost lost it there. Sorry about your car, V."
"No worries. Being alive matters more." V waved it off.
Strangely, no NCPD showed up despite the firefight. Just as Wakako had said, they were all busy locking down Watson.
Jackie drove them toward the district bridge. Red lights flashed, police cars blocked the road, NCPD officers setting up barricades. Even military mechs stood by.
"Damn, they've rolled out roadblocks." Jackie slowed, stopping before the barricade.
A female officer with a high ponytail approached in the rain. "Watson is sealed off. Await further notice. This is a necessary security measure."
She glanced inside the car—two beautiful women beside Jackie. Her brows rose. One cold, one cute. Lucky bastard.
Jackie slipped into his "friendship magic" voice. "Officer, ma'am. Meeting you is our good fortune."
"Oh? And what makes me different?" She leaned closer, clearly bored on duty.
"A heart of gold. Only someone like you would understand how badly I need to get back to my girl."
"Your… daughter?" She eyed him skeptically.
"Of course. If I don't return, she'll worry herself sick." Jackie's wide eyes sold the lie.
"She gave me a chance. She's waiting for me." He spread his hands, the picture of a reformed family man.
The officer sighed. "Touching. Fine. This is the last car. Go."
V and Berry were stunned—it actually worked. In Night City, that was rarer than gold.
Jackie grinned, flooring the gas. "See? My sincerity wins hearts."
V rolled her eyes. "Right…"
Rain poured. At an intersection, gangsters blocked a car, guns drawn.
"Out of the car! Now!"
A robbery.
Before Jackie could decide, a blue‑flamed AV descended overhead—NCPD's counter‑terror squad.
Heavy troopers dropped, jet boots flaring. The gang opened fire, but bullets bounced off their armor. Plasma pistols spat blue fire, burning the gangsters into charred husks.
"Not ordinary cops," V muttered.
"Exactly. Counter‑terror squad. NCPD's elite enforcers," Jackie explained. "Those idiots didn't stand a chance."
The squad waved them on. Jackie turned toward V's apartment.
Jackie dropped them off.
"Sweet dreams. Say hi to Misty for me."
"Me too," Berry added.
"I will. Ahi luego." Fist bumps all around. Jackie drove off.
Inside, V staggered, nearly collapsing. Berry caught her.
"Careful, V."
"Just some poisoning from the Sanders job. I'll be fine." V rubbed her forehead.
"Should we see Viktor now?" Berry asked, worried.
"Morning's fine. Don't worry." V forced a smile.
"Alright. But tell me if it gets worse." Berry set her down, then went to boil water.
Night City didn't believe in hot water. Berry did. She'd jury‑rigged a kettle from scrap, insisting V drink it whenever she was sick.
She cracked open a Coke for herself, savoring the fizz.
"Berry, grab me a beer?" V asked hopefully.
"Not a chance." Berry shut the fridge, poured steaming water into a cup, and set it beside V. "Drink this. Dream about beer."
V sighed, obediently sipping. Funny how their roles had flipped—Berry now the caretaker.