The other person was a young man named David Martinez.
His mother, Gloria Martinez, made a living by reselling second-hand cybernetics on the streets and had always been a somewhat loose but reliable supplier to Maine's crew, maintaining a good relationship.
The change occurred on an ordinary evening.
As usual, Gloria drove her old second-hand car to Arasaka Academy to pick up her son, David, from school.
Disaster struck without warning. Their vehicle was caught in a sudden gang shootout on a main road in Heywood District.
A stray bullet or an out-of-control vehicle—the exact cause was difficult to ascertain in the chaos—violently struck their car.
The car body instantly twisted and deformed, and glass shards splattered like rain.
David, sitting in the passenger seat, was dazed and disoriented by the impact, a gash opened on his forehead, warm blood blurred his vision, and his arm was in excruciating pain, possibly fractured.
But more terrifying than his own injuries, he saw his mother, Gloria, pinned tightly in the driver's seat by the deformed steering wheel and metal components, blood continuously gushing from her forehead and abdomen, her breath weak.
Intense pain distorted her movements, but a mother's will to protect her child overcame everything.
With her last shred of consciousness, she sent Maine an extremely short distress message, mixed with painful gasps, containing her location: "Save… David…"
It was this signal, imbued with her final will, that caught Maine's attention.
When Maine arrived at the scene with Dorio and Rebecca, guided by the coordinates, they saw young David, dragging his injured arm, futilely trying to pull at the deformed car door, and Gloria in the driver's seat, her vital signs rapidly fading.
They quickly pried open the car door. Maine, acting decisively, instructed everyone to swiftly transport the dying Gloria and the seriously injured David to Glenn, the Cyberneticist they knew in Watson, who was known for his discretion.
Thanks to the relatively timely medical attention and Glenn's unorthodox methods and emergency procedures for treating such street traumas and saving lives—despite his crude techniques and significant long-term risks—Gloria's life was barely saved.
But saving her life was merely the beginning of a long period of suffering.
The subsequent lengthy treatment, the repair of her damaged spine and nerve plexuses, and the potentially expensive custom cybernetics needed to replace severely damaged organs and limbs, would incur a despairingly astronomical cost.
Gloria had indeed saved some money from reselling cybernetics, but almost all of it had been invested in David's expensive tuition and daily expenses at Arasaka Academy.
Supporting a son who could attend Arasaka Academy had almost drained this single mother's entire savings.
Out of past goodwill and the will demonstrated by Gloria's final distress message, Maine's crew covered the initial emergency costs and Glenn's fees. However, they were not a charity and could not, nor were they obligated to, bear the massive and seemingly endless treatment expenses long-term.
The harsh reality, like the shadows of Night City, quickly enveloped the Martinez mother and son, who had just faced a life-and-death ordeal.
As Gloria lay on the clinic bed in Glenn's clinic, filled with the smell of disinfectant and blood, tormented by intense pain and deeper despair, David stepped forward.
This young man, who had always been protected under her wing and even seemed somewhat timid at school due to his background, shed his youthful naivety. For the first time, an undeniable resolve ignited in his eyes.
He found Maine, and despite his fingers slightly curling from tension, he clearly stated his request: to work for the squad and use his earnings to pay for his mother's medical expenses.
He tried to make his voice sound more reliable, even subconsciously straightening his still-slight chest: "My reactions are very fast, and I scored high on all the implant adaptability tests… I also learn quickly.
I can keep up with everything taught at Arasaka Academy! I think… I should be useful."
The tremor in his voice at the end still betrayed a hint of nervousness, but his intention to shoulder responsibility was clearly discernible.
Gloria, lying in bed, heard her son's words and her emotions instantly surged.
She clutched the soiled bedsheet tightly with her still slightly mobile right hand, squeezing out broken protests from her throat: "No… David… you can't…"
She had put everything into it, even resorting to skirting the law by reselling cybernetics, hoping her son could stay far from the blood and grime of the streets and embark on the most "bright" and proper path she could imagine.
Now, because of her own helplessness, was she to drag her son into the dark world she had always tried to shield him from? This was more unbearable than the intense physical pain.
However, reality was as cold as a mountain.
The numbers on the latest bill, handed over by Glenn with an expressionless face, cut into her heart like a blunt knife.
Without continued treatment, nerve damage and organ failure would completely consume her; she would truly become a useless person confined to bed, or even die.
At that time, David would truly be alone.
David's persistence was like a rock, and the cruel reality was an inescapable cage.
Gloria's protests gradually weakened in the face of her son's eyes, which were a mixture of fear yet exceptionally firm, and the cold numbers of the medical expenses.
She finally fell silent, tears silently sliding from the corners of her eyes, mixing with the bloodstains remaining on her temples.
At that moment, her heart was torn in two: one half was endless panic and self-reproach for her son about to enter danger, and the other, an unspeakable, bitter solace.
Her child, in the face of disaster, had not retreated, but was trying to grow into a man who could support the family.
This conflicting emotion gnawed at her, making her feel profound remorse for her helplessness and for becoming a burden to her son.
To save every penny to pay the continuous, seemingly bottomless bills from Glenn's clinic, David quickly moved out of their small apartment in the city, which held countless memories for the mother and son, and relocated to The Dump HQ, finding a corner among Maine's crew members' residences.
Maine and the others, after all, couldn't bring themselves to abandon them. They helped move Gloria, who was extremely immobile and mostly relied on a wheelchair and assistance from others, to Wasteland Town as well, settling her in a relatively independent and quiet area.
Now, Gloria mostly lay stiffly in bed, staring at the simple ceiling, unable to care for herself.
Her body was confined to the sickbed, and her thoughts were trapped in an even deeper prison.
The constant worry for her son's safety every time he went on a mission, the deep regret of becoming a burden and leading her son down the path she least wanted to see him take—all these emotions intertwined, often making her gaze hollow and complex, losing the resilience and radiance she once had as a mother supporting her family.