Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 45: A Little Good

V watched Norton walk down the street before turning to go home herself. She was startled when a ragged voice suddenly called out to her from across the alley.

"Hey! Hey, lady – spare an enny for some grub? I haven't eaten in... eh..."

The man who'd called out to V was sitting in a pile of filth next to a weather-beaten tent that looked like it barely provided shade, let alone shelter. He held a cardboard sign on one knee with something scribbled in old marker pen:

Got no home, sick kid, and cheating wife. Need booze money ASAP.

V cocked her head.

"You sure you want ennies for grub?" she quipped, gesturing towards his sign. "Or for some happy juice?"

The man stared at her for a couple of seconds, his body bobbing back and forth. He either had some sort of condition, or he was on something. He slowly looked over at the sign and examined it.

"Huh – just picked it up from the guy that lived next to me. Heh heh, that's funny."

He tossed the board away and held up his hands with a crooked smile. V couldn't see his eyes; he was wearing those weird wraparound goggle things. But judging by the off-putting grin, she felt that his eyes must have been flashing like a lunatic's.

"As I was sayin' – grub. I'm so hungry I could eat a Militech troop carrier."

V crossed her arms.

"If that's true, what's your order? I'll go inside and get ya somethin'."

The man sat up immediately and rubbed his hands.

"I want three triple deluxe burgers with large fries and a NiCola; and make sure the NiCola is ice-cold, heh?"

V rolled her eyes but turned to walk back into the diner. A few minutes later, she tramped back out with a large takeout bag in one hand and an ice-cold can in the other. She handed the food to the guy, who snatched it out of her hands eagerly without so much as a thank you. V's nose wrinkled at the smell of body odor, old booze, and rotting food cartons. The mattress the guy was sitting on next to the tent had a vile stench, as well as some suspicious-looking stains. Without prelude, he practically tore open the bag and started stuffing his mouth.

"Mghff... mff... oh yeah, oh yeah, that's the good stuff... mghfffn..."

V took a step back to avoid flying ketchup and onions. The guy swallowed loudly and looked up at her again.

"Say, since you got me some grub and a cold can, you wanna hear a bedtime story?"

This guy was definitely not all there. He looked up with food slathered all over his face and neck, his smile lopsided. V's pity was activated, though, and with a heavy sigh, she squatted down a few feet away from him.

"You know what? Sure. Today couldn't get any weirder. Tell me a bedtime story, choom."

The man picked up the edge of the red neckerchief tied around his neck and wiped at his mouth. Cracking open the NiCola, he took a long swig, let out a wet burp, then began his story.

"So there I was, down in Mexico, doin' my duty. Veteran, can ya tell?" He grinned. There was scop stuck in his teeth. "Anyways, when I was down there, corpocunts jacked me and the other guys together, yeah? Linked up, like...?"

The man twitched and shuddered, then continued on with strange intermittent laughter in his words.

"Felt what they felt, hits they took. Fuckin' pain, ten, a hundred times what I could take. Heh, goddamn walkin' in three directions at once, heheheh, weapons goin' off every time theirs did!"