"Long time no see, Del."
"I believe it's only been an afternoon since we last met, sir."
Roland couldn't help but smile at the bald man's deadpan tone. Honestly, in such a foreign world, seeing a familiar face was unexpectedly comforting.
"Take me to Lizzie's Bar."
"You wish to go to Lizzie's Bar? With all due respect, I don't think that's the safest destination for you right now."
Delamain glanced at Roland, his tone calm but deliberate.
"Oh? Didn't expect you to care about me so much, Del. Go on, what's the issue?"
Roland raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression.
"Of course I care. You're one of our company's most valued clients. If anything were to happen to you, I'd be… quite regretful."
"Haha, thanks. I'll keep that in mind. So, tell me what's going on with Lizzie's Bar lately."
Roland chuckled, leaning back in his seat.
"According to my data, Lizzie's Bar has been thriving recently. However, since it's located in the Kabuki district of Watson, members of the Tyger Claws often visit there for leisure. And with the bar's rising popularity…"
"I get it. The Tyger Claws have their eyes on Lizzie's Bar—prime turf to control. Judging by your warning, it sounds like the owner hasn't accepted their 'offer' yet."
"Indeed, sir. Sharp observation."
"Appreciate the info, Del. Take me there anyway. I'll stay in the car and observe first."
"Understood. Plotting the route now."
Roland nodded and turned to look out the window. The dazzling glow of Night City's skyline danced across the glass, the neon brilliance hiding layers of shadow beneath.
Here in Charter Hill, things were calm. This was where the city's upper classes lived—well-protected, well-policed.
You could call Night City dangerous, but you couldn't say it didn't take care of its rich.
As Delamain's car left Charter Hill, the view shifted. Streets grew rougher, faces more diverse, the pulse of the city darker. To reach Lizzie's Bar, Roland had to pass through Japantown.
The first gang members he saw were unmistakably Tyger Claws—glowing tattoos, neon-dyed hair, mismatched Cyberware, and hairstyles that defied gravity.
Even if he wanted to ignore them, it was impossible.
Still, the Tyger Claws in Japantown played by certain rules. As long as you didn't provoke them—and had enough money—they'd let you enjoy yourself on their turf. They weren't the type to bleed a client dry in one go; they preferred steady business, turning regulars into loyal customers. Nearly every Tyger Claw on the street doubled as a hustler.
Just as Roland was starting to take in the chaotic charm of the district, a sharp burst of gunfire shattered the air.
Even from inside the car, he could hear it. Naturally, the Tyger Claws outside heard it too.
Moments later, a group of strangers in mismatched gear dragged a bound man into a pickup truck. The vehicle sped off erratically, swerving like a drunk on a joyride.
Several Tyger Claws jumped on their motorcycles and tore off after it—heading straight for Watson.
Delamain silently steered clear, letting the chaos pass.
Roland's lips twitched. "Well, that's Night City for you..."
"That group just now... they were Cyberpunks, right?"
"Yes, sir. You'll be seeing more of them soon. They might even be useful—depending on the kind of trouble you encounter."
...
"Sir, we've arrived at Lizzie's Bar."
The faint orange glow in Roland's eyes dimmed. He had just finished browsing the Net, and he couldn't help but sigh at how wildly diverse—and often absurd—Night City's culture was.
He looked up, scanning the surroundings: uneven pavement, trash everywhere, graffiti covering every surface, a bonfire flickering inside a rusted oil drum under a bridge, and the occasional gunshot echoing in the distance.
Yeah, this was a far cry from Charter Hill. Two worlds entirely.
Several guards stood at the entrance, clearly hired muscle. They were there to keep the peace, but Roland doubted they'd last five seconds against someone truly dangerous.
Lizzie's Bar didn't have any big corporation backing it. If trouble started, those guards would be the first to bail.
"Open the door, Del. Looks quiet for now. And when I'm ready to leave, I'll call you again."
"Understood, sir. Wishing you a pleasant evening—and please, stay safe."
Roland nodded and stepped out, heading toward the entrance.
One of the guards raised a hand to stop him. "New here?"
"Relax. I know the rules. I won't touch anything I shouldn't."
Roland raised his hands slightly, signaling he meant no harm.
The guard gave a curt nod and stepped aside.
Inside, the room glowed in shades of violet, blue, and pink, lights pulsing in rhythm with the heavy music—a bit loud, but it fit the vibe perfectly.
"Hey there, handsome. Haven't seen you before."
The receptionist smiled as Roland walked in.
"Yeah, first time at Lizzie's. Any recommendations?"
Roland smiled back and transferred fifty eddies as a tip. The woman's grin widened immediately.
"Let me show you some of our best Braindances—and maybe a few of our most popular girls."
After the introduction, Roland wove through the colorful crowd until he found a quiet corner. He picked an inspiring romantic Braindance and started the session.
A girl struggling to raise her younger brother after losing her parents—Roland couldn't deny, the story hit hard.
"Hey, you think that guy's loaded?"
Across the room, a burly man in a bulletproof vest pointed toward Roland with a smirk.
"Looks like it. That Cyberware arm's not standard issue—definitely custom. Plus, check his outfit... worth more than a few of our jobs combined."
A tall, lanky man beside him nodded, then frowned.
"Don't tell me you're thinking of robbing him. He's probably a corpo dog—bet he's got Trauma Team coverage."
That sobered the big guy up immediately. He laughed awkwardly. "Relax, I was just joking. I like living too much."
BANG!
The bar's door flew open with a crash, drawing everyone's attention—except those still lost in Braindance.
A figure with neon-green hair, glowing tattoos, and a bright-colored katana stepped inside. Tyger Claws—no doubt.
Behind him, a dozen more gang members fanned out across the room.
The guards and staff quietly slipped aside. No one in their right mind wanted to cross the Tyger Claws, especially this close to their turf.
Honestly, they couldn't understand why the owner refused the gang's protection. Sure, accepting meant giving up independence—but at least they'd live.
"So... where's Elizabeth?"
The leader hoisted his katana and cracked his neck, voice dripping with arrogance.
They didn't bother clearing the place out. In their minds, this bar already belonged to them. Why scare off customers before taking over? They weren't here to start a war—just to deliver an ultimatum.
"I'm here. What do you want?"
A tall redhead in a striking outfit stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Anger simmered behind her eyes—she clearly hated their arrogance.
"Heh. Miss Elizabeth still as dazzling as ever... I'm here on behalf of our boss to deliver our final message. Three days. Give us your answer—or face the consequences."
The man stepped closer, tilting Elizabeth's chin up with a smirk.
She clenched her jaw but stayed silent.
Seeing that, he nodded in satisfaction, waved his hand, and gestured for his men to leave.
"Alright, everyone—keep partying. Sorry for the interruption."
He swung his katana once and walked out with his crew.
Elizabeth watched them go, her expression tightening before she turned and headed backstage, a shadow of bitterness in her eyes.
Roland slowly lifted the Braindance gear from his face. He had already exited the simulation the moment the Tyger Claws started harassing Elizabeth.
He had to admit—Braindance was dangerously addictive.
Still, leaving early let him witness an important moment—the appearance of Elizabeth Borden, the future leader of the Mox.
"If I save her when the time comes... I'll probably earn a lot of Essence for it."
Roland stroked his chin thoughtfully.
But it was too early for that. It was only 2066—the event wouldn't happen until 2067.
"Hmm. Judy works with the Mox later, not directly with Elizabeth... So that means she's not here yet. Probably still designing Braindances somewhere in Night City. Or maybe she's already at Clouds..."
For now... he'd just enjoy the moment.
Roland lowered the headset again, diving back into the Braindance world.
Backstage, Elizabeth slammed her fist into the mirror, glass cracking under the impact. Anger drained into exhaustion.
She stared at her bloodied hand and let out a long sigh.
To protect her girls... she had no other choice. If she defied the Tyger Claws openly, she'd lose everything—maybe even her life.
At least this way, she could still hold on to some control... and maybe protect those who depended on her.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser