Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 59: The Argument

After dropping off Fredrik for her latest, insane yokai idea, V cut through several dark Northside alleyways to make sure she wasn't seen on the way back to her car. She turned into an abandoned alley, the trash there so long forgotten it practically turned to dust under her boots. The scent of rain tamped down the smell of rotting plastic, however, while far overhead the neon signs on the buildings hummed.

V swallowed down nausea as she walked, trying—and failing—to keep her mind from drifting back to the gig she'd just done. To what she'd just done. Blown the head off a popular XBD tuner right in front of his own son.

Along with the thoughts came the memory of the BD she'd had to watch. It had only been two seconds, but it was enough to throw V into a near panic attack whenever her brain tried to replay it. And there had been so much more than just that BD she was sent to find; hundreds of clips of stolen lives... What she had just witnessed, what she had just seen and done, was dirty biz.

Too dirty, it felt. Even for Night City.

V's brain whirled a mile a minute in her skull. She tried to force her thoughts to organize, to think of what to do next, but before she could, her phone started ringing.

The name "Dexter DeShawn" glowed bright gold in the top left corner of her HUD. V felt a flicker of apprehension run through her. What was the big boy himself calling her out of the blue for?

She picked up.

Dexter DeShawn appeared, a cloud of cigar smoke covering his face.

"Well, good evenin' to ya, Miss V. Hope my call finds ya well—heard you've been quite the busy little bee." He took another drag of his cigar, the cherry end of it glimmering in the reflection of his sunglasses.

V's breath hitched. It was a second too long before she answered, "Dex... to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dex's hand lazily waved back and forth as he said, "You know what's a pleasure? Seein' you in action, Miss V. You're a real hidden gem, y'know that? A surgical diamond, like those corpo docs use. You get in, cut what you need to cut, and get out. I admire that."

V came to a stop, swallowing nervously. Dex's voice was warm, approving even, but there was a sharp edge to it just under the surface.

"Makes me real eager to see what you'll get up to after the Heist. You got potential." Dex shook his head suddenly then, clucking his tongue. "But you're burnin' hot right now, girl. Too hot."

"Not quite sure what you're talkin' about, Dex," V drawled. "But sounds like you're callin' to scold me about somethin'."

"Who, me? Scold?" Dex chuckled. The sound of it made V's spine shiver. "No, Miss V. I'm callin' to encourage you to... take a break. Recharge."

He took a drag of his cigar, some ash flicking off the end.

"The Heist is only a day away, Miss V. The biggest job of your life. And I just want to make sure that the people I work with take care of themselves. Especially," he pointed at her, "when I'm employin'em to do the type'a gig where there's no margin for error."

V cocked her head. She felt shaky suddenly.

"That sounded a lot like an order, Dex."

A pause. Then Dex exhaled, reaching out of view to tap his cigar in an ashtray.

"Ludwig Wittgenstein," he said. "'The meaning of a word is its use in the language.'"

He leaned back in his opulent chair and shrugged.

"Or maybe it was someone else. Point is—words mean what you let 'em mean. Take it easy, Miss V."

The call ended.