"Jack, I don't need new friends. You know that." Judy said, stripping off the specialized rig she used for braindance editing, "So… you watch that smut I gave you last time or what?"
"Ahem." Jackie cleared his throat, cheeks going red, "Judy… c'mon. You can't just blast a client like that. That's — like — privacy."
"And you dragged someone into my workshop without asking, so we're even." Judy swiveled in her chair.
When her eyes landed on Vash, she paused — just a beat.
"Alright, alright — introductions." Jackie cut in, quick as a fix, "This is my choom V — Vash. V, this is Judy. Best BD editor in Night City, bar none."
"Judy Álvarez." She looked Vash over, expression unreadable but not unkind, "Jack, your friend's… easy on the eyes. What, you bringin' me a BD star?"
"Nah, you got him wrong." Jackie laughed, "V's legit. Chrome or no chrome — combat, iron… top shelf, chica."
"Fourth-gen chrome?" Judy studied him again, eyes flicking over him like she was scanning for seams that weren't there.
The first three generations of cyberware always left traces — scarring, ports, subtle distortions around the modified tissue. Only fourth-gen could disappear into the body like it had always been there.
"Not fourth-gen." Vash corrected calmly, "All natural."
A rare smile tugged at Judy's mouth, "Huh. Interesting." She jerked her chin toward the room, "Anyway — BDs. That's what I do."
"Exactly why we're here." Jackie said, "Those squeaky-clean corpo BDs? Total drek. Your stuff's the real deal."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't sweet-talk me into a discount." Judy said, unimpressed, "You two running the same scroll, or separate?"
"I'm good." Jackie waved it off, "This one's for V. Let him take it for a spin."
Vash wasn't unfamiliar with braindance.
Braindance wasn't a fairy tale — it was Night City's most popular entertainment. A person's experience could be recorded digitally, then fed straight into a viewer's nervous system through a fixed rig, letting them live every second as if it were their own: sensations, emotions, even the recorder's thoughts, replayed with brutal authenticity.
"So, what're you into?" Judy asked, "Heads-up — I don't keep much 'normal'. Most of what I've got is black-market BD."
The big corporations produced most braindances. The irony was obvious: companies ruled Night City with iron regulations, yet the braindances they released were polished and upscale — blood and violence kept to a minimum.
Black-market braindances were another beast entirely. They sold themselves on sex, gore, pain, and raw sensory extremes.
"Judy, my choom here's built different." Jackie said, eyeing the lineup on the shelves, "Yesterday — corpo goons on our ass, bullets flyin' — he pops four, five cars with a shotgun, drops a dozen suits easy. That's my hermano. Hook him up with somethin' preem."
Judy picked up a chip from the workbench and rolled it between her fingers.
"Latest hardcore drop." She said, "Simple setup: a hundred people on an island — guns, blades, whatever you can grab. Gas closes in. Everyone's an enemy. Last one standing gets out."
As a black-market editor and producer, she pushed out new products regularly, letting them circulate until the city chewed through them.
"Island of Doom" was the hardest braindance in Judy's collection — and no one had cleared it yet.
She tilted her head, "You sure you can handle it?"
"Let's try." Vash said, already lying back in position.
Inside, he nearly laughed. Island of Doom sounded exactly like PUBG. And if there was one thing he didn't lack, it was FPS experience — especially battle royales, where he'd always been a top-tier gunfighter.
He settled into the braindance chair and steadied his breathing. Judy slid the "Island of Doom" chip into the main unit, then handed him the headphone-like BD interface.
"Real talk — I haven't made it to the end of this one." Judy warned, "If anything feels off, you say so. Immediately."
"Got it." Vash replied.
Judy tapped the start control, and the braindance initiated at once.
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A violent flash swallowed Vash's senses. He dropped into deep sleep — and officially loaded into the braindance: "Island of Doom".
He opened his eyes to the body of a soldier seated inside a military transport plane. Ninety-nine other soldiers sat alongside him, faces blank, as if carved from the same mold.
"Arriving above the island. Prepare to parachute!"
The announcement blared over the cabin speakers. The rear door yawned open, and a brutal wind roared through, snapping fabric and rattling gear.
The instant the door opened fully, Vash surged forward, grabbed his parachute kit, and became the first to leap into the void.
Outside the braindance rig, Judy and Jackie watched the feed in real time.
When they saw Vash jump first, Judy froze — just for a second — caught off guard by the decisiveness.
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T/N: Comment, give me Power Stones, like and favorite, it all supports me and makes me go foward with this. Appreciate my other stories as well, I guarantee the good work!
That's it and happy reading! (-‿◦)