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In the strange, hazy world of his dream, the sky was an impossible, piercing blue. The sun was bright, and the streets were clean—unbelievably clean for Night City. It looked like the pristine, sterilized avenues of the City Center where the corporate elite breathed filtered air.
Jax looked up to see a pink cat trotting toward him. It had a delicate touch of black on its forehead and stylish black bangs. It was an incredibly cute creature. It rolled onto its back a few feet away, exposing a soft pink belly and meowing playfully.
Jax's interest was piqued. He'd never seen a pink cat, but he knelt to pet it anyway. Before his hand could touch the fur, another sound broke the silence.
A green cat with puffed-up, bristling fur bolted from behind a dumpster. It hissed at the pink cat, its crimson eyes flashing with territorial rage. It was plump, with comically short legs, but it scrambled with manic energy to jump onto Jax's lap.
"Meow~"
A third call came from above. Perched atop a shipping container was a pure white cat with heterochromatic eyes. It sat regally, licking a paw and looking down at Jax and the other two with a flick of human-like disdain.
Three cats? In a city where you were lucky to see a single stray rat that hadn't been poisoned by heavy metals, seeing three colorful felines was a miracle.
The white cat leaped down, landing gracefully in Jax's arms. The pink cat took offense, rolling with even greater intensity, its paws "washing" its face in a gesture that felt disturbingly like seduction. The green cat let out a shrill, jealous shriek, trying to swat at the white cat's tail but failing miserably due to its height.
Jax felt a wave of helplessness. He was holding a cat in each hand, while the pink one was now literally hugging his face. Its soft belly pressed against his cheek, the fur tickling his skin.
Suddenly, the cats froze.
Their hostility toward each other vanished, replaced by a collective hiss directed at the end of the street. Jax looked over and saw a tabby cat emerge. It was dirty, grime-streaked as if it had lived in a Corporate Plaza dumpster, but it was massive—built like a small tiger.
Strangest of all, the pattern on its forehead clearly formed the Chinese character 'Wang' (King).
With every step the "King" took, the other three cats meowed louder, backed away, and looked at Jax piteously. The pink cat reached out a paw and poked Jax's face.
It was itchy.
"Hoo—""Stop, stop it!"
The itching grew unbearable. Jax reached up to scratch his cheek, but the sensation only intensified until he instinctively slapped himself awake.
Slap!
Jax's eyes snapped open. He wasn't in the City Center. He was on his sofa in the Megabuilding.
A round, very cute face was inches from his. Sasha was lying directly on top of him, her legs tangled with his, her hands propped on his chest. Her short hair was the culprit—it had been brushing against his nose and cheek with every breath she took.
"How did you get here..." Jax asked, a surge of genuine joy cutting through his grogginess. The only person with the hacking skills (and the audacity) to bypass his security and "night-raid" his apartment was Sasha.
"What, am I not welcome?" Sasha pouted, though she didn't move. She shifted her weight, and Jax realized with a start that her modifications were minimal—she felt warm, soft, and very human. Unlike the high-tier "borgs" like Songbird, Sasha had kept her humanity in more ways than one.
"I didn't say that. I just thought you were in Dogtown," Jax said.
"The business with my brother-in-law was settled," Sasha said, her expression flickering with annoyance. Her brother-in-law—an NCPD officer with more heart than brains—had nearly gotten himself zeroed trying to buy a wedding ring through Dogtown black markets. Sasha had to bail him out before he turned into a statistic.
But the real reason she had ridden her motorcycle out of the combat zone and across the city overnight wasn't the family emergency. It was a photo from Dorio.
The photo showed the crew celebrating at an outdoor bar in Santo Domingo. And there, sitting next to Jax, was a woman with iridescent hair and a face that was "exceptionally beautiful."
Lucy.
Sasha had gone on high alert immediately. Everyone wants a piece of the original goods, she'd thought. But if anyone's getting a piece, it's going to be me.
"Were you dreaming?" Sasha asked, rubbing her cheek. "You kept muttering 'cat, cat.'"
"Yeah... a very strange dream," Jax nodded. He stayed still; having Sasha sprawled over him was the most comfortable he'd been in years.
He looked at her, and suddenly the dream decoded itself.
The cute, seductive pink cat was clearly Sasha.
The short-legged, irritable green cat was Rebecca.
The aloof, intelligent white cat was Lucy.
But then, Jax's expression grew troubled.
What about the tabby cat? The dirty, dominant fighter that had terrified the other three just by showing up?
He ran through the women he knew. Wheeler? Too flirtatious. Anna Nox? Too seductive. Susan or Kolina? They were his elders, his family—they didn't fit the vibe.
That tabby cat... it had the aura of a supreme fighter. A "King."
Who in his life—or his future—could possibly be that imposing?
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