The neon outside the Turbo Bar pulsed like a heartbeat, throwing pink and blue light across the apartment plaza. The music still thumped, people still laughed, and the night still smelled of cheap booze and fried street food—but in the middle of all that noise, something heavier had settled into the air.
Gloria and Maine had known each other for a long time. Not close enough to share secrets, but close enough to trust money and business. In Night City, that kind of relationship was rare—and valuable.
In a twisted way, Maine's help was one of the reasons David had a seat at Arasaka Academy at all. The tuition, the extras, the "administrative fees" that always appeared at the worst time—those didn't pay themselves. Finding a buyer who didn't waste your time or lowball you into the dirt was hard. Finding one who paid deposits in advance?
That was practically a miracle.
Gloria arrived late, limping slightly, face pale under the neon. She forced a smile, but it looked fragile—like it could crack if anyone spoke too loudly.
"Maine… sorry. I'm late."
Maine frowned immediately. He wasn't the sharpest thinker in the city, but he was sharp where it mattered: people. He could tell when someone was masking pain.
"Gloria, you look awful. You sick? Hurt? You should've called. I could've picked up the goods myself."
"It's not that serious," Gloria insisted, waving it off, but her hand trembled just a little.
It was serious—she just didn't want to say it out loud.
Her injuries from a few days ago weren't fully healed. Moving normally already cost her effort. But she didn't have the luxury of resting.
David had caused trouble—real trouble. He'd crashed the school's network, and now the academy wanted compensation fast. If she couldn't pay, David's education was over. No more Arasaka Academy. No future that could pull him out of the dirt.
So she dragged herself out here anyway, because in Night City, pain didn't pay bills.
Before Maine could argue further, a voice cut in from the side.
"It's not that serious. She just got hit by a car and nearly got chopped into spare parts by scavengers."
James leaned halfway out of the crowd, casual as ever, like he was commenting on the weather.
Gloria turned her head, eyes widening. For a second, she forgot her pain.
"…You?"
James gave her a small nod. "Yeah. Me."
Maine blinked and looked between them. "Hold up—you two know each other?"
Gloria quickly summarized what happened—how James had stepped in, how things could've ended in blood and scrap metal.
Maine's expression shifted. The grin faded. A rare seriousness settled across his face.
He looked at James like he was seeing him for the first time.
"You almost lost a friend," Maine muttered, then reached out, clapping a heavy hand onto James's shoulder to show gratitude.
James immediately shoved it away with a look of disgust. "Don't get emotional. You'll scare the neighborhood."
Maine snorted, but the tension stayed in his eyes. Then James tilted his chin subtly, and his tone sharpened.
"Still, Gloria… you were careless. You didn't notice you were being followed?"
Gloria stiffened.
James pointed toward a car not far away. Behind it, a figure crouched low, trying to hide.
Maine's head snapped in that direction instantly. His pistol was in his hand like it appeared from thin air.
"Get out here. Now."
The figure flinched, then rose slowly with both hands raised.
"D-Don't shoot… it's me."
The streetlamp revealed a boy's face, guilt written all over him.
"David?!" Gloria's voice cracked.
Maine lowered the gun, confused again. "You know him too?"
Gloria pressed her lips together, frustration and fear mixing inside her chest.
"This is my son… David."
Maine blinked hard. "That's your kid? He doesn't look like you."
James instantly nodded, like he'd been waiting for that line.
"That's what I said too."
Maine laughed once, short and sharp, and the two of them high-fived like idiots.
Gloria stared at them both with the look of a woman who had reached the end of her patience.
"David! What did I tell you? Stay home. You promised me."
She coughed mid-sentence, the anger pulling at her injuries. David rushed forward, panicked.
"Your injuries aren't healed! How could I let you come out alone?"
"I know my body—" Gloria snapped, but her voice wavered. She was furious… and also terrified. This boy was all she had.
David's eyes darted to James, silently begging for help.
James lifted a hand, cutting the tension cleanly.
"Alright. Gloria, save the parenting lecture for later. You're not here for that."
His voice carried weight—enough that Gloria actually listened. She glared at David and pointed.
"Go stand over there. Under the streetlamp. Don't come back until I call you."
David's shoulders slumped.
"Okay…"
He walked away like a scolded puppy, hands shoved in his pockets.
Gloria inhaled, exhaled, and put her professional face back on.
"I'm sorry. Let's do business."
She unzipped her jacket and carefully pulled out the goods.
It was a full spinal implant set… and a Sandevistan.
Even in the neon glow, the implant looked dangerous. Smooth metal. Clean lines. No civilian branding. No public model markings.
James's eyes narrowed.
"That prototype Sandevistan from the news… the one the retired soldier had? This is it, isn't it?"
Gloria didn't deny it. She didn't bother pretending she'd gotten it legally.
"That's right."
Maine took it in his hands, and something ugly flickered across his expression.
Not greed.
Not joy.
Craving. Obsession.
The kind of hunger that came from a man who never felt strong enough in his own skin.
"Military-grade…" Maine whispered, almost reverent.
James watched him closely. In Night City, chrome wasn't just hardware. It was a drug. A promise. A lie that said: You can be more than human. You can be safe. You can be untouchable.
And that lie had killed plenty of people.
Then James spoke again, calm but sharp.
"Faraday told you about this, didn't he?"
Maine flinched like he'd been slapped.
The reaction was enough. James didn't need confirmation.
"Yeah. Thought so."
Dorio's eyes darkened immediately. Her fist clenched. She didn't speak yet, but the air around her felt hotter.
James leaned closer, voice lowering.
"Maine. This thing doesn't even have a model number. That means it's not a product—it's a test. A prototype. You install it, you're volunteering to be a guinea pig."
Maine tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out wrong.
James continued, merciless.
"If you want to wear it, buy a grave first. At least then I'll know where to visit after it cooks your nerves."
The plaza music thumped in the background. Somewhere nearby, people cheered. But at their table, the mood turned cold.
Dorio's voice came out like a blade.
"That Faraday… that snake."
She crushed the cup in her hand so hard it turned into powder.
Gloria's hands tightened around her jacket.
Her fear wasn't for Maine.
It was for herself.
If Maine didn't buy, who would? How long would it take to find another buyer? How long until the school decided David was done?
In Night City, you didn't get sympathy for needing money. You got buried.
James saw the tension and made a choice.
He extended his hand.
"Give it to me, Maine. You can't handle it."
Maine stared at him for a long moment. He looked like a man fighting a war inside his own skull.
Then, slowly, he exhaled.
"…If it were anyone else, I'd think they were trying to steal it."
James shrugged. "Then it's good I'm not anyone else."
Maine handed over the Sandevistan.
Important moment: Maine let go of the prototype instead of letting it consume him.
James turned toward Gloria.
"How much is the remaining balance? I'll pay."
Gloria hesitated.
Selling something dangerous to her lifesaver felt like a punch to the small part of her conscience that still existed.
James didn't blink.
"It's fine. I'm not installing it. I'm taking it for research."
Gloria's shoulders loosened as if someone cut a rope around her chest. She accepted the money, hands trembling slightly.
When the eddies hit her account, her eyes softened.
This wasn't just cash.
This was David's future.
To Gloria, that future had a single path: education. Arasaka Academy. Arasaka Corporation. A clean life.
Maybe becoming a corporate worker wasn't freedom—maybe it was just another cage.
But in Night City, cages were better than graves.
James stood and called out.
"Jackie! Stop drinking. Take Gloria home."
Nearby, Jackie raised his head, already half-smiling. He didn't even ask why. Jackie liked David. He saw a younger version of himself in the kid—hungry, reckless, trying to run faster than the world.
"Alright!"
Gloria looked at James.
"Thank you… James."
James waved it off.
"You're welcome. We're friends now. If you need anything, talk to Jackie."
Jackie puffed up proudly. "That's right—come to me if you need anything."
Gloria didn't argue. She marched over to David, grabbed him by the ear, and pulled him toward Jackie's car.
David yelped. "Mom—!"
"Move."
They left, and the plaza noise filled the space again.
James turned back to Maine, eyes hard.
"And you. Tomorrow, you're coming with me to Vik. We're getting that garbage cyber-arm of yours fixed properly."
"No way," Maine said instantly, defensive.
James didn't blink. "I'll have Vik install a corporate-grade system."
Maine's face changed in one second.
"As you wish."
James rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless."
Maine was hopeless, yes—but not for no reason.
He'd grown up scrawny. Weak. Bullied. Made to feel small.
He didn't crave chrome because it looked cool.
He craved chrome because it made him feel like the world couldn't break him again.
That kind of hunger didn't vanish just because someone warned him.
So James made a silent decision:
If he couldn't cure Maine's obsession, he would at least make it safer.
Better doctors. Cleaner implants. Less illegal junk. Less strain. Less risk.
And as long as the crew stayed together—as long as Sasha stayed alive, as long as they still had something to fight for—Maine's mind might stay stable.
Because cyberpsychosis didn't come from chrome alone.
It came from the moment your heart snapped.
Dorio stared toward the crowd, anger still burning.
"So… Faraday just gets away with it?"
Maine shrugged slightly. "That's Night City."
James smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Don't worry. Faraday gave you a new job, right? Tracking an Arasaka executive—Director Blackwell."
Maine's eyes widened. He looked at Sasha, who suddenly looked guilty.
He slapped his thigh and pretended to be furious.
"Oh? You two plotting behind my back? Sasha leaking missions now?"
James kicked his chair lightly. "Shut up. The water's deep. If I didn't tell Sasha to watch things, you'd die and still think it was bad luck."
Maine held up both hands, backing off.
"…Never mind. I'm just a worker. What's the point of knowing all that?"
James's smile turned amused.
Important moment: Maine chose ignorance over truth—because truth in Night City gets you killed.
The tension finally eased.
The night reclaimed them.
Drinks came back. Laughter returned. Music rose.
And then Sasha stepped forward, grabbing James's wrist.
"Come dance."
She didn't ask. She pulled.
James went with her, and the dance floor swallowed them under neon and bass.
Lucy watched, jaw tight.
From the shadows, Kiwi leaned against a railing, cigarette glowing like a tiny ember.
"Your man's popular," Kiwi murmured, voice dry.
Lucy didn't look away from James.
"You don't have to tell me."
James waved at her, bold as ever—like he was inviting trouble.
Kiwi's tone carried faint teasing. "Not joining?"
Lucy downed a mouthful of strong liquor and stood.
"She's the newcomer."
Then she shoved her way onto the dance floor, sliding into James's arms like she owned the air around him.
Sasha didn't resist.
She only smiled.
Kiwi exhaled a long stream of smoke, watching the trio with quiet amusement.
"Heh…"
Lucy had forgotten every promise she'd ever made about being calm and rational.
And Kiwi could only shake her head and silently wish her luck.
Because in Night City, love is beautiful… and love is war.
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