Some time later, James and Lucy moved into a new apartment in Corpo Plaza.
Apartments here couldn't be bought—only permanently leased. As long as you lived well and kept paying, the place would always be yours. In Night City terms, that was practically ownership.
The rent itself wasn't a problem for James. It didn't even come close to the cost of fully renovating the place and buying brand-new furniture.
Every piece of old furniture was cleared out. James didn't believe in using second-hand items when he could afford better, and now he could afford much better.
Lucy poured her heart into the new home. Her taste, her habits, and her quiet creativity showed in every corner—lighting placement, cable routing, wall textures, even the subtle scent diffusers hidden behind shelves.
Standing by the window together, Corpo Plaza unfolded below them.
If one ignored the oppression, exploitation, and blood hidden behind corporate glass and steel, the scenery was undeniably beautiful. Neon-lit skyways, holographic projections drifting like artificial constellations, advertisements painting the night in impossible colors.
At night, Corpo Plaza felt like the future people had once dreamed of—before corporations turned dreams into chains.
"Want to try the new bed?" James asked, glancing sideways with a grin.
"Alright," Lucy replied calmly.
The next second, she straddled James and shoved him backward onto the mattress, sealing his protest with a deep kiss.
"I go first."
After a long while, James gave the bed a satisfied thumbs-up. Worth every euro. Tens of thousands well spent.
Only then did he start unpacking.
Boxes of all sizes filled the living room. Most of James's were technical equipment—tools, parts, custom devices—destined for the apartment's dedicated tech room, which was directly connected to Lucy's Hacker space.
Lucy didn't need much room. Without a Hacker chair, her setup was minimalist.
Her Hacker chair was the bathtub.
James had custom-ordered an oversized bathtub just for this purpose, reinforced and insulated so Lucy could work comfortably without flooding the bathroom or frying herself.
While James organized cables and equipment, Lucy soaked in the tub, her face still faintly flushed.
She was… confused.
Weren't women supposed to have the advantage in this kind of biological interaction?
Why did it feel like everything she'd studied online—late-night physiology lessons she'd secretly researched—was completely wrong?
She seriously wondered if James had gone to Viktor and secretly replaced his kidneys with two industrial-grade power units.
That was impossible… probably.
Lucy wasn't competitive about it. She just felt faintly guilty that she hadn't been able to fully keep up with James.
A call interrupted her thoughts.
She froze when she saw the caller ID.
She had almost forgotten she still had a guide in Night City.
Since getting together with James, Lucy hadn't contacted her in a long time.
"Lucy," Kiwi's calm voice came through the link. "You seem to be doing very well."
Kiwi appeared on Lucy's optics, soaking in a pool filled with ice water. The method Lucy used to cool her own system was something she'd learned from Kiwi.
"Just moved to a new place," Lucy replied evenly.
Kiwi raised an eyebrow. "Moved? You're actually willing to spend money now."
She paused, studying Lucy's complexion on-screen.
"You're not using prohibited substances, are you?"
It was a reasonable suspicion. Drug abuse was everywhere in Night City. Even corpo employees relied on chemical support just to survive their workdays.
"Of course not."
Kiwi waved it off. "Fine. That's not why I called."
Lucy focused. "What is it?"
"Someone owes me money. I can't touch him directly. You said you knew a powerful Edgerunner—ask him if he's interested. I'll split half of whatever he recovers."
Kiwi sounded irritated. It had been a while since she'd been this unlucky.
"Send me the details," Lucy said. "If he's interested, I'll let you know."
"Done."
Kiwi sent the data and shifted into casual chatter. Like always, once two women started talking, the conversation flowed endlessly.
When Lucy finally stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, James had finished organizing everything and was sitting on the couch watching TV.
Lucy curled into his arms like a lazy cat, resting her full weight on him.
"There's a commission," she murmured. "Want to take a look?"
"From someone you know?"
"Just decide for yourself."
James scanned the details.
The payout was low—20,000 eurodollars. After Wakako's jobs, this barely registered as income.
But the Tyger Claws and Maelstrom were entering a quiet phase, and James suspected things would be slow for a while. The recent flood of money had been an exception, not the norm.
Most fixers contacting him lately offered either traps or insulting pay. James had already blacklisted them.
After a moment, he nodded.
"I'll take it. Tomorrow night."
Part of the reason was simple: Kiwi was the only Hacker Lucy truly trusted. James was curious about her too. If things ever got dangerous, Kiwi could replace Lucy on certain jobs.
As for Kiwi's character?
In Night City, self-interest was a virtue.
James's fingers started to wander again. Lucy, having barely recovered, tried to keep up.
She failed quickly.
---
Lizzy Bar – Night
Lizzy Bar was a kaleidoscope of sound, light, and heat.
Famous for high-quality braindance services—and equally famous for the sex workers lingering nearby—it was also the heart of the Moxes' territory.
Every sex worker here was protected. Many were members of the gang themselves.
And no—they were not weak.
With the right chips and combat implants, many could fight as well as trained Edgerunners.
The Moxes were a relatively young gang, founded in 2067.
Back when Lizzy Bar was just a strip club, its owner—Elizabeth "Lizzy" Borden—ran it. Everything changed when Tyger Claws members murdered one of her girls.
Elizabeth took an axe, killed the three responsible, and hung their bodies outside the club.
The Tyger Claws retaliated and killed her.
What they didn't expect was the aftermath.
Elizabeth's death ignited citywide riots. Public opinion turned violently against the Tyger Claws, dealing them a heavy blow.
To honor her, Lizzy Bar was rebuilt, and the Moxes were formed—to protect street workers from abuse.
They weren't saints.
They were still a gang.
Just one with a little more humanity.
James paused outside the entrance, appreciating the provocative posters on the wall.
Lucy really should thank Kiwi, he thought.
"You coming in or not?!" Rita, the Mox security guard, barked.
James turned to look at her—pink hair, doll-like face, and spiked cybernetic arms that radiated danger.
"Of course," James replied, smiling as he brushed past her and stepped inside.
Rita watched him go, frowning.
There was something… off about him.
Detached. Calm. Like he didn't quite belong.
She scanned him. Barely any cyberware.
Weird.
---
Inside, the dance floor surged with bodies.
James ignored most of it and sat at the bar.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked politely.
"What do you have?"
"Everything."
James smirked. "Then I'll have a Sweet Calf Milk soda."
"…What?"
"You said everything."
The bartender froze, then bowed slightly. "My mistake, sir."
"Fine. Iced Coke."
"Yes."
The bartender added an ice ball—ten extra euros.
James drank slowly, scanning the dance floor.
Finally, he spotted the target: Aiden.
Edgerunner. Heavy chrome. Surrounded by women.
As Kiwi's intel said, he came here every night.
James waited.
And waited.
Hours passed. Women rotated. Aiden didn't leave.
James sighed.
Lucy's going to fall asleep.
He stood.
Enough waiting.
James followed Aiden into the restroom, casually setting a "Cleaning in Progress" sign outside.
As Aiden reached for his belt—
"Hey."
Aiden turned.
James kicked him.
The impact slammed Aiden into the wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.
James didn't stop.
All the pent-up frustration from sitting all night poured out.
"Ora. Ora. Ora—"
The sound of fists filled the restroom.
And tonight, James was finally home.
------------------------------
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