Hours later, I found myself sitting on a bench in the Redwood Market, munching down on a burger I got from Doohan's 4 Eurodollar Burger Shop. The bread was stale, the ketchup and mustard taste experienced, and the patty was definitely not made with meat. It tasted like an alien tried to make a burger after a human tried to explain what a veggie burger was. Like imitation imitation meat. Trying to stomach the poor excuse for a burger was a real challenge, but I soldiered on since I couldn't afford to waste E$ 4.
After Trauma Team left me damn near penniless, I shuffled my way around Japantown, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I walked around aimlessly for roughly an hour before finding myself next to an elevator leading up to the redwood market. At this point, I was running on empty, so I took the elevator and looked for the joint selling the cheapest food I could find.
Along the way, I learned quite a lot about myself and how to interact with the world around me. As cliche as it sounds, I have some kind of game-like interface system and inventory. When I think about wanting to pull up a menu, an interactive screen similar to the games shows up in my vision. From the menu, I can craft, open my inventory, open a map, modify my stats, and open a list of missions.
Currently, only inventory, map, and character had anything in them. Well, crafting isn't empty, but since I can only craft ammo and Bouncebacks, and I don't even have the components for that, it might as well be.
The Inventory system is way more helpful. While in physical contact with something, it will go into my inventory system if I think about storing it. Thinking of taking the item out of my inventory spawns it into my hands. Which surprised me the first time I tried it with my phone, causing me to drop it and crack the screen. In my defense, if you have a random object pop into existence in your hand, you would probably drop it as well.
My Character screen indicated that my level and street cred were at zero. My base stats are 3 in Body, 6 in Intelligence, 3 in Cool and Reflexes, and 7 in Technical Abilities. No levels and zero street cred also meant that I didn't have any skills.
The Map function gave me several filters I could put in. Things like NCPD reported criminal behavior, the locations of bus stops, bars, vendors, ripperdocs, and so on. I'm not planning on throwing myself into danger, so the map won't come in handy. For now.
While messing around with the system, I also noticed that having the menu up did not pause time. Something to be mindful of, I don't want to be caught off guard while focusing on my system. Or be considered a crazy person that spaces out all the time.
Time passed as I browsed through my system and phone. Eventually, I found myself at the entrance to a market. Feeling hungry, I went inside and got myself the cheapest food possible. And that's how I got here now.
As I ate, I started thinking of my current situation. Using text messages, emails, and a diary gave me a pretty good idea of the person whose body I stole. And I kind of wished I didn't. The guy really had an unlucky last few months.
Dakota Rogers was born in 2052 to a middle-class family. Dad was a general manager of a gym, and his mother worked as a nurse. They saved enough money to put Dakota through college at Night City University, where he got a bachelor's in cyberware logistics. He even met a nice girl here and got engaged after they graduated.
Dakota then worked for Raven Microcybernetics for a year and a half. He then used the money he had saved and a loan from his parents to start a business. He leased a small storefront in Watson and spent all his cash importing small cyberware components in bulk. After spot-inspecting batches, Dakota would turn around and sell them to small businesses around the city.
This business worked well for him, so good that Dakota was considering applying for a loan with Fujiwara Bank to open a second location. Alas, it wasn't meant to be.
About a year into the business Dakota's parents died. While driving home from a nice night out on the north Heywood to celebrate their 15th anniversary, they were caught up in a drive-by shooting. From the police report, the 6th Street gang got hired by a loan shark to kill a man that wasn't making his payments.
The Gang followed the man's car once it left his house. This man's car just happened to park next to Dakota's parent's car at a red light. The Gang then pulled up and started shooting. Stray bullets flew through the target's car and landed inside Dakota's parents on the other side. Dakota's father died immediately with a shot to the head, while Dakota's mother bled out from a wound in her throat. And just like that, in a single moment of unrelated violence, Dakota lost both his parents.
Understandably, Dakota fell into a massive hole of depression. He locked himself in his home and let his business fall into ruin. Often times he woke up just to cry himself back to sleep. His fiancee tried to help and set him up with an online psychiatrist, who recommended he keep a diary to document his feelings and emotions to better work through them.
It seemed to help a bit, but apparently not enough. After months of being mentally unstable and letting his business fail, Dakota's fiancee called off their engagement and ran away to the Republic of Texas with somebody she met at work. This was the final straw, and Dakota turned to drugs and alcohol. He used up the majority of his remaining money on Glitter and Smash.
One night he took one inhalation and drink too much, causing an overdose and causing his heart to stop. And through whatever cosmic event, my mind was thrown into his body. I wonder if Dakota is living my life, finding himself in a foreign room with burn marks from a computer explosion. I'm pissed I'm here now, But I hope Dakota gets a second chance.
As I finished my last bite of the nasty burger-like thing, I got up and wiped my fingers on my clothes. Dakota's story is sad, but it isn't my story. I also have my own emotions I'll need to deal with, just not right now. Hell, while I was eating and staring off the bridge that Redwood Market is located on, I considered jumping. I have nothing in this city, and maybe killing myself here would take me back to my world.
But maybe it won't, and I'll be damned if my story ends with me splattered on the floor, no one in this world even knowing the real me. Wallowing in self-pity won't get me anywhere, and Night City has a way of chewing up and spitting out people who don't keep swimming. I need to get back on my feet and start acting on the plan I came up with.
The date is May 12th, and Saburo Arasaka, the former head of the Arasaka Corporation, has already been announced dead by his family. I don't know if this world has a V, but I can take advantage of my knowledge if it does. That's for further in the future, however.
My current plan is to liquidate all my belongings and sell what I can craft. First ammo, then weapons, and eventually cyberware modifications. I already own a store, so I won't have to sell ammo on the streets like some crazy person.
First, I needed to get to my car and store. Walking out of the market and taking the elevator down, I pulled out my phone to find the directions to the nearest bus stop. Once there, I figured out which route was correct for Little China and waited fifteen minutes for it to show up. I got on and chose a spot in the back, resting my head against the window.
The drive took another twenty minutes before it stopped at Bradbury and Buran Street. My shop was very close to Vic and Misty's location, and it's strange to think I could have walked past the exact location countless times while in the game. Making my way past the neon banners marking Gomorrah and Misty's Esoterica, I found myself standing in front of a small store.
Hours later, I found myself sitting on a bench in the Redwood Market, munching down on a burger I got from Doohan's 4 Eurodollar Burger Shop. The bread was stale, the ketchup and mustard taste experienced, and the patty was definitely not made with meat. It tasted like an alien tried to make a burger after a human tried to explain what a veggie burger was. Like imitation imitation meat. Trying to stomach the poor excuse for a burger was a real challenge, but I soldiered on since I couldn't afford to waste E$ 4.
After Trauma Team left me damn near penniless, I shuffled my way around Japantown, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I walked around aimlessly for roughly an hour before finding myself next to an elevator leading up to the redwood market. At this point, I was running on empty, so I took the elevator and looked for the joint selling the cheapest food I could find.
Along the way, I learned quite a lot about myself and how to interact with the world around me. As cliche as it sounds, I have some kind of game-like interface system and inventory. When I think about wanting to pull up a menu, an interactive screen similar to the games shows up in my vision. From the menu, I can craft, open my inventory, open a map, modify my stats, and open a list of missions.
Currently, only inventory, map, and character had anything in them. Well, crafting isn't empty, but since I can only craft ammo and Bouncebacks, and I don't even have the components for that, it might as well be.
The Inventory system is way more helpful. While in physical contact with something, it will go into my inventory system if I think about storing it. Thinking of taking the item out of my inventory spawns it into my hands. Which surprised me the first time I tried it with my phone, causing me to drop it and crack the screen. In my defense, if you have a random object pop into existence in your hand, you would probably drop it as well.
My Character screen indicated that my level and street cred were at zero. My base stats are 3 in Body, 6 in Intelligence, 3 in Cool and Reflexes, and 7 in Technical Abilities. No levels and zero street cred also meant that I didn't have any skills.
The Map function gave me several filters I could put in. Things like NCPD reported criminal behavior, the locations of bus stops, bars, vendors, ripperdocs, and so on. I'm not planning on throwing myself into danger, so the map won't come in handy. For now.
While messing around with the system, I also noticed that having the menu up did not pause time. Something to be mindful of, I don't want to be caught off guard while focusing on my system. Or be considered a crazy person that spaces out all the time.
Time passed as I browsed through my system and phone. Eventually, I found myself at the entrance to a market. Feeling hungry, I went inside and got myself the cheapest food possible. And that's how I got here now.
As I ate, I started thinking of my current situation. Using text messages, emails, and a diary gave me a pretty good idea of the person whose body I stole. And I kind of wished I didn't. The guy really had an unlucky last few months.
Dakota Rogers was born in 2052 to a middle-class family. Dad was a general manager of a gym, and his mother worked as a nurse. They saved enough money to put Dakota through college at Night City University, where he got a bachelor's in cyberware logistics. He even met a nice girl here and got engaged after they graduated.
Dakota then worked for Raven Microcybernetics for a year and a half. He then used the money he had saved and a loan from his parents to start a business. He leased a small storefront in Watson and spent all his cash importing small cyberware components in bulk. After spot-inspecting batches, Dakota would turn around and sell them to small businesses around the city.
This business worked well for him, so good that Dakota was considering applying for a loan with Fujiwara Bank to open a second location. Alas, it wasn't meant to be.
About a year into the business Dakota's parents died. While driving home from a nice night out on the north Heywood to celebrate their 15th anniversary, they were caught up in a drive-by shooting. From the police report, the 6th Street gang got hired by a loan shark to kill a man that wasn't making his payments.
The Gang followed the man's car once it left his house. This man's car just happened to park next to Dakota's parent's car at a red light. The Gang then pulled up and started shooting. Stray bullets flew through the target's car and landed inside Dakota's parents on the other side. Dakota's father died immediately with a shot to the head, while Dakota's mother bled out from a wound in her throat. And just like that, in a single moment of unrelated violence, Dakota lost both his parents.
Understandably, Dakota fell into a massive hole of depression. He locked himself in his home and let his business fall into ruin. Often times he woke up just to cry himself back to sleep. His fiancee tried to help and set him up with an online psychiatrist, who recommended he keep a diary to document his feelings and emotions to better work through them.
It seemed to help a bit, but apparently not enough. After months of being mentally unstable and letting his business fail, Dakota's fiancee called off their engagement and ran away to the Republic of Texas with somebody she met at work. This was the final straw, and Dakota turned to drugs and alcohol. He used up the majority of his remaining money on Glitter and Smash.
One night he took one inhalation and drink too much, causing an overdose and causing his heart to stop. And through whatever cosmic event, my mind was thrown into his body. I wonder if Dakota is living my life, finding himself in a foreign room with burn marks from a computer explosion. I'm pissed I'm here now, But I hope Dakota gets a second chance.
As I finished my last bite of the nasty burger-like thing, I got up and wiped my fingers on my clothes. Dakota's story is sad, but it isn't my story. I also have my own emotions I'll need to deal with, just not right now. Hell, while I was eating and staring off the bridge that Redwood Market is located on, I considered jumping. I have nothing in this city, and maybe killing myself here would take me back to my world.
But maybe it won't, and I'll be damned if my story ends with me splattered on the floor, no one in this world even knowing the real me. Wallowing in self-pity won't get me anywhere, and Night City has a way of chewing up and spitting out people who don't keep swimming. I need to get back on my feet and start acting on the plan I came up with.
The date is May 12th, and Saburo Arasaka, the former head of the Arasaka Corporation, has already been announced dead by his family. I don't know if this world has a V, but I can take advantage of my knowledge if it does. That's for further in the future, however.
My current plan is to liquidate all my belongings and sell what I can craft. First ammo, then weapons, and eventually cyberware modifications. I already own a store, so I won't have to sell ammo on the streets like some crazy person.
First, I needed to get to my car and store. Walking out of the market and taking the elevator down, I pulled out my phone to find the directions to the nearest bus stop. Once there, I figured out which route was correct for Little China and waited fifteen minutes for it to show up. I got on and chose a spot in the back, resting my head against the window.
The drive took another twenty minutes before it stopped at Bradbury and Buran Street. My shop was very close to Vic and Misty's location, and it's strange to think I could have walked past the exact location countless times while in the game. Making my way past the neon banners marking Gomorrah and Misty's Esoterica, I found myself standing in front of a small store.
