Island of Doom.
A black-market braindance so brutal that even its creator, Judy, couldn't survive to the end — Vash had just cleared it. The moment the playback rolled, the whole situation flipped on its head. Judy stared at the recording in stunned silence.
"Holy shit…" Jackie couldn't help it, "This place is a straight-up killbox, huh?"
He'd already seen what Vash could do in the real world. He knew the guy was a beast — he just hadn't expected this.
On the footage, the instant Vash hit the ground, he made a beeline for the military base — the nastiest drop spot on the entire island. He landed hot, then used sheer close-quarters skill to erase the other player who touched down with him.
His pace was insane. Clearing a house took maybe ten seconds. In ten seconds he'd loot, swap, and come out with the best gear available — cold weapons, a crossbow, iron bars, pistols, UZI, M416, AK-47, 98K…
Weapon after weapon, in Vash's hands, turned into a lesson in slaughter. Every shot was a kill. Not a single round wasted.
By the time he left the military base, at least twenty people were already down.
As the circle shrank, Vash drove and rotated like he'd memorized the island. Sniping red dots off distant hills. Jumping out of a moving vehicle to crash into close-quarters fights in residential blocks. Everything smooth — almost casual.
And at the very end, with only one opponent left… he tossed his gun aside and finished the job with a frying pan.
Soon, the black braindance — Island of Doom — cut out.
Another harsh flash washed across Vash's vision. He surfaced from the deep-sleep state and opened his eyes to Judy staring at him.
Too close.
Close enough that he caught her scent.
"What's wrong?" Vash asked, "Was I not supposed to kill the last person?"
"I don't buy it." Judy said, stepping back to put some distance between them, "You're telling me you don't have any chrome? 'Cause if you did, I'd get it. But if not… what the hell are you — some kind of combat bot?"
"V, you're fuckin' preem, choom!" Jackie barked a laugh, "Watching from the outside? Had the time of my life."
"My experience wasn't bad either." Vash said, standing and moving to leave with Jackie, "Thanks."
"Wait." Judy's voice stopped them.
"Judy, relax — I ain't gonna stick you with the bill." Jackie chuckled, "I'll hit the front desk and pay—"
"Not that." Judy's eyes stayed on Vash, "I'm saying wait. V… you got a number?"
For a second, Vash thought he'd misheard.
In the original storyline, Judy was the cold, beautiful type. The problem was simple: she was a lesbian. Not romanceable. With men, her vibe was always ice.
And now she was asking for his number?
"No shit?" Jackie blurted, stunned, "I've known you forever and I don't even got your number. V walks in once and—"
"Stop." Judy cut him off, "Don't get cute. You come here to watch porn, that's it. I want his contact for something else."
Getting asked for a number by Judy was unheard of for any guy in Night City. Being the first, Vash wasn't about to refuse.
"This is it." Vash said, transmitting his contact.
"Alright." Judy pocketed it with a quick nod, "Later."
Then she turned back to her workstation like the whole thing hadn't just happened.
❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖
"V, you just took a big step toward legend status." Jackie said as they left Lizzie's Bar, "Ain't nobody in Night City ever got Judy to ask for their number — voluntarily."
And once Jackie started running his mouth, he didn't stop.
"Jack. Serious talk." Vash cut in, "What kind of jobs are out there?"
Right now he was broke. If he didn't find work soon, he'd be living on air.
"You asked the right guy." Jackie grinned, "Since we jacked Arasaka's goods, we gotta lay low for a bit — cool off. But if you wanna make eddies in Night City? Plenty of ways."
He thought it over for a moment.
"You can box." Jackie threw a few jabs in the air, then mimed gripping a wheel and twisting the throttle, "Or there's moto racing out in the Badlands. Thought you might be into that."
"Then we do motorcycle racing." Vash decided.
With his current 〈Perfect Driving〉, racing was the safest play.
"Preem timing." Jackie slapped his chest with confidence, "Race in a few days — prize pool's solid. I got the connections. Leave it to me, eh?"
"Alright." Vash nodded, "Let's try it."
❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖
Back at his place, Vash lay down — then realized sleep wasn't coming.
How was he supposed to enter a motorcycle race without a motorcycle?
Thinking that through, he sat up.
To get a bike, he either bought one or stole one.
He didn't have bread money, so buying was out. Stealing was… also a problem.
He was fully inside the world of Cyberpunk 2077 now, and at the very start — newbie stage. No serious cyberware. No serious weapons. One bad run-in and he'd be eating NCPD bullets.
『 Daily Check-in refreshed. Would you like to Check-in? 』
Right as the worry tightened in his chest, the check-in refreshed.
"Check in!"
『 Check-in successful! Host has obtained the 〈Perfect Disguise Skill〉! 』
The electronic voice rang out. The skill fused into his knowledge base — passive, biological adjustment. It could even shift his physical traits and drop his body temperature to the lowest possible level, making him effectively invisible to thermal imaging.
A sharp gleam flashed in Vash's eyes.
Perfect timing — like getting a pillow when you're dying for sleep.
"Kusanagi CT-3X…" Vash murmured, "I choose you."
❖❖❖❖❖
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! (-‿◦)