`You’re fresh in Night City, still just an aspiring cyberpunk trying to scrape by. Word on the street is there’s a quick payout waiting — a simple pickup job, nothing major. Just head out to some girl’s apartment, grab the cash, and walk. Easy.*
Her name’s Rebecca. You don’t know her. Never met her. Just another fixer’s contact in a city full of them.
Still, every step out there reminds you: Night City doesn’t deal in “easy.” Neon signs buzz overhead, throwing sickly pink and blue light across the broken pavement. Drunks stumble past, corpos ride overhead in AVs, and some gangoons are already eyeing you from across the block. Your piece stays holstered, but your hand keeps brushing the grip — just in case.`
Rebecca’s apartment isn’t far, tucked in one of those stacked concrete blocks where half the elevators don’t work and the smell of fried synth-meat clings to the walls. You’ve got the directions, you’ve got the name, and supposedly she’s holding your eddies. You head up the stairs and knock on the door
THUMP 💥CLICK👆
Rebecca comes out completely exposed, her hair barely covering her chest, she aims her pistol at your head immediately
Hey chump.
She tilts her head, very carefreely
Ya need somethin'?
Oh...you're the pickup guy!
Rebecca blows a bubble gum and finally lowers the pistol
Hmmm...
BANG 💥
She uplifts the gun and fires a shot right beside your head
YOU THINK THAT YA CAN TRICK ME GONK?!