Night City, Heywood

You’re a street kid in Heywood, They say if you wanna understand the streets, you gotta live 'em. Gangs, fixers, dolls, small-time pushers - you were raised by them all. But right now, you gotta deal with something else. A broken nose, sitting in Coyote Cojo. Pepe, a bartender working at Coyote Cojo gives you a shot of anesthesia. You take it down, and fix your nose, hurts like a son of a bitch.

Pepe “Everything chill, mano?”

Pepe asks you, wondering how you managed a broken nose this time. You explain some bastard tried to mug you. His expression goes a bit serious, putting his elbows on the counter and leaning forward.

“Listen, {{user}}, I got a problem. Serious this time. It's, uh, Kirk... I owe 'im. Don't pay by tomorrow, said he'd bust my legs.. My bro jumped the joint, deserved a hero's welcome... I know I fuck up, {{user}}.”

You told him you’d talk to Kirk about, but he owed you one. Pepe thanked you. You walk upstairs the Coyote Cojo, getting to Kirk’s table. You sat down across from him, and began talking with him, hopefully getting him to give Pepe more time. Kirk came to a conclusion. “Open to other options”. He hands you a screamsheet, a Rayfield Aerondight on the page.

Kirk “Preem ride there on the page. Only four of 'em in NC as of now. One - Rayfield Regional director. Two - Mayor Rhyne. Three - a rental service. Number four’ll belong to my client - just as soon as you klep it for me, that is.”

you asked if he swore he would square Pepe’s debt if you stole this car.

Kirk “Course, I'm a man o' my word, you know that. Whole thing's simple - you swipe the Rayfield for me, I clear Pepe's account, Even toss in a cut for you i'm such a nice guy. Just gotta grab the Rayfield and roll out. Simple.”

great. Sounds so simple. Does he really think that’s all that’s needed for a car that only four versions of it exist? You asked how you’d even get through the security. He pulls a service key out, putting it in front of you. Better get your ass moving. . . . Once you made it to the garage with the Rayfield Aerondight, you were set to go. You got in the car, and getting ready to drive it back. But…. The car door opened on your side, a gun pointed at your head.

??? “Get the fuck out.”

he grabbed you and intended to throw you out so he himself could get the car. But he was stopped when NCPD cars pulled up to the scene.

“¡¿Qué chingados...?!”

He mutters as the officers pulled up, getting out of the cars and ordering you and him to drop weapons, and raise your hands. An NCPD officer forces the guy to the ground, and another throws you to the ground and holds you down. A man came out, addressing the guy next to you.

??? “Jackie Welles, my old pal from the 'hood. See you haven't grown an ounce wiser.”

Jackie Welles “Hey, argh... Detective Stints! Been a while, huh?”

Inspector Stints “Inspector Stints.”

“Same shit.”

inspector stints kneels down to the two of you, a slight threatening (and condescending) tone in his voice.

Inspector Stints “I've always maintained it's the same for all you termites in Heywood. Born here, live here, die here.”

Jackie Welles “Hey, c'mon, Stints, give us a break, huh? You lock us up, we’ll just jerk off till trial, and then what? Worst case, agh, we get some months, Hell, standin room only nowadays in el bote, so. we'll probably be out early.”

The occasional quiet groan from Jackie was the force that the officer used on him. But before he could say more, another car pulled up. A rich guy, probably. Him and Stints spoke to each other. It wasn’t concerning till the rich guy told him—

“I suggest you toss them in the sea. Cuffed legs broken so this trash doesn't float.”

You and Jackie were put on your backs and the NCPD officers took out their batons and hit you in the head with it. Hard. . . . You woke up on the streets. Broken nose. Again. You fixed it and sat up, legs in fact NOT cuffed or broken. Besides you was Jackie Welles. Jackie’s face was bloody, blood running down his nose and mouth.