Version One of .44 Rebel Angel
-[X] Uncommon
You stared at the pile of components laid out before you, a collection of scrap, salvaged materials, and the occasional high-quality part. It wasn't much to look at, but with enough ingenuity, and a bit of duct tape, you could make something remarkable. Yes, you'd need more than just junk to pull this off, but judging by the stash you'd accumulated over the past few weeks, it looked like you had just enough to make it work.
This was going to be the prototype: the first iteration of a weapon you'd only dreamed about, a .44 caliber masterpiece built to be both deadly and discreet.
-[X] Suit Jacket
The suit jacket was another matter entirely. Unlike the gun, which you could tinker with yourself, tailoring was beyond your skill set. You weren't a tailor, and you weren't about to pretend you were. Luckily, you had someone for that, a skilled contact from across the street who could stitch together something custom without asking too many questions. And he owed you a favor so it was free of charge.
The jacket itself needed to be more than just a fashion statement. It had to serve a purpose. Functionality was paramount: concealed holsters, reinforced fabric, and an aesthetic that wouldn't look out of place at a corpo cocktail party or a back alley deal.
The .44 Rebel Angel wasn't just a weapon; it was a system. Originally, the design had been tailored for organic users like yourself, relying on intricate moving parts to ensure a smooth assembly and deployment process without shredding the user's arm in the process. That alone required precision engineering, the kind you'd only find in high-end corporate tech.
And it was something you had, maybe not in abundance… but it was clear that… you could create it…
So the weapon would be in three parts that would assemble, from the barrel, the cylinder and the hammer with firing pin, with there being a simple…grip meant to be used, was just a small piece of metal that would be fired, barely more than a piece of steel to serve as a grip, it was uncomfortable to fire.
Even dangerous, but in a pinch… it could work.
But as you were designing it… a thought occurred: most people weren't fully organic anymore. With cybernetic arms slowly becoming the norm or having subdermal armor under their skin to protect their bones, the design could be adapted. Instead of a single, clunky weapon that had to be holstered, the .44 Rebel Angel could be
disassembled even further to add to it's hold-out potential. Each part could be hidden within the compartments of a cybernetic arm, tucked away like a deadly secret waiting to be unleashed.
Barrel segments could slide into reinforced compartments along the forearm. Firing mechanisms could nestle seamlessly into wrist mounts. Even the grip could fold away, splitting into sections and locking into place like puzzle pieces. The result? A weapon that could be reassembled in seconds, pulled from the shadows of a cybernetic limb when least expected.
It was equal parts ingenuity and audacity, a testament to what could be achieved when you refused to play by the rules of simple firearms mechanics, and treated it like a puzzle.
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[X][Barrel] Standard Barrel
-[X][Munitions] .44
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[X][FiringMechanism] Semi-Automatic
-[X][Attachment] Underbarrel laser sight
The cold truth about the .44 Magnum cartridge was that its sheer power demanded respect. The round was a beast—too powerful for a snub-nose or a shortened barrel to handle without severe drawbacks. Firing it from such a compact weapon would be akin to holding a hand cannon with no stability. The recoil alone could snap the wrist of an untrained shooter, and even seasoned veterans would struggle to maintain control in rapid-fire situations.
This wasn't a round designed for finesse; it was raw, brutal stopping power in its purest form.
To counteract its inherent drawbacks, certain design compromises had to be made. The weight and bulk of the weapon meant it was far from ideal in a quick-draw scenario. It wasn't something you could whip out as it assembled and fire with pinpoint accuracy under pressure. Its size and heft worked against it, especially in close-quarters combat.
That's where the under-barrel laser sight came into play.
The laser would provide an immediate point of reference during the assembly process, helping the wielder lock onto a target without the need for extended aiming. This addition compensated for the weapon's unwieldy nature and provided assistance for the untrained or the unprepared
But the laser wasn't just about aiming; it served another purpose. During the assembly of the weapon, the intricate process where pieces were locked into place with mechanical precision, the sight acted as a guide for the weapon itself. It allowed the shooter to ensure alignment even as the weapon configured itself in real-time, preparing to fire.
The end result was a marriage of raw firepower and modern ingenuity. The .44 Magnum's ferocity was tamed just enough to make it viable.
But with enough finesse to make it serviceable… as well as… well, being able to be a holdout, even against the most stringent of security systems.
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-[X][Asthetics] Suitable Fallen Angel Wings engraved.
You almost leaned toward something garish, maybe even downright tacky, chrome flames, neon streaks, or some over-the-top corporate branding plastered on the frame. It would've caught attention, sure, but it wouldn't have felt
right. You needed something more personal, something meaningful.
That's when your eyes landed on an old, faded poster tacked to the wall. A relic from a bygone era, its edges curling with age. It depicted a figure falling from the heavens, a man, or maybe a machine, with angelic wings consumed in flames. The imagery struck a chord deep within you.
And that was it.
You decided to engrave burning wings into the frame, the design curling along the barrel and grip, delicate yet fierce.
It took time, longer than you anticipated. Every stroke of the engraving tool was painstakingly precise, every curve meticulously planned. When it was done, the wings seemed to flicker in the light as if they could take flight at any moment. You ran your fingers across the cool metal, tracing the flames and feathers.
Pride swelled in your chest as you held it up to the light. This wasn't just a gun anymore. It was an extension of yourself.
It wasn't the engraving you initially planned, but it was the one that mattered most now.
And as you set the completed weapon down on the table, a thought crept into your mind. This wasn't the end, it was only the beginning. The next project, the next
real gun you would craft, was already forming in your imagination. Something even more ambitious, something that would push your skills, and maybe your limits, to their peak.
The burning wings were just the start.
-[X]Recoil: 1000 (cost 10 standard material) (Increases final quality by +1)
-[X]Accuracy: 1000 (cost 10 standard material) (Increases final quality by +1)
-[X]Reliability: 1000 (cost 10 standard material) (Increases final quality by +1)
-[X]Compatibility: 1000 (cost 10 standard material) (Increases final quality by +1)
4,000 bullets weren't easy to make, especially not .44 Magnum rounds. The materials alone were hard to source, and the process demanded precision. But thankfully... Kenji had you covered. in some ways.
Kenji, your enigmatic jailor and the closest thing you had to a guiding hand in this mess of a world, had conveniently left for Japan. Some kind of high-profile meeting with your parents, no doubt. He was always tight-lipped about his trips, and you'd learned not to ask too many questions.
What caught your attention was the key he left behind.
It wasn't just any key—it was the one to
his room. The one room you were expressly forbidden to enter under any circumstances.
Naturally, you ignored that rule.
Pushing the door open, you found yourself standing in a world that felt like it belonged to someone else entirely. Weapons lined the walls like trophies of war, everything from sleek, modern rifles to ancient, battle-worn katanas. Shelves brimmed with ammunition, neatly organized by caliber. Boxes of supplies were stacked with military precision, including kits for reloading bullets, spare parts for cyberware, and enough food to ride out an apocalypse.
Then there was the meditation room.
At first glance, it seemed peaceful—minimalistic, with a perfectly raked sand garden taking center stage. But as you flipped through the security feeds stored on the room's terminal, you realized Kenji didn't use it for peace.
He used it to train.
The footage showed him practicing martial arts at a level that seemed almost inhuman. He moved with a fluidity that suggested decades of experience, dodging with a precision that bordered on supernatural. And then there was
that. A clip where he scattered grains of sand into the air and somehow managed to dodge individual grains as they fell. You replayed it three times just to confirm what you'd seen.
The logical part of your brain told you he had to be using cyberware to pull it off. Reflex boosters, maybe even a Kerenzikov implant. But there was something unnerving about how effortless it seemed.
Among all the weapons and training footage, one thing stood out: a keepsake on the fridge.
It was a photo, slightly yellowed at the edges, of you and Kenji from years ago, back when you first arrived in Night City. You remembered that day vividly. The overwhelming chaos, the crushing loneliness... and Kenji, who didn't say much but somehow made you feel less like a stranger in a strange land.
You flipped the photo over, and there it was. A note written in Kenji's neat, deliberate handwriting:
"He is your responsibility. If he fails to live up to expectations, kill him."
The words hit you like a bullet to the chest, filling your mind with more questions than answers.
Well, it didn't leave you with any questions, save one. What expectations would you have to meet, and how could you use that to stay alive?
But there wasn't time to dwell on it.
The stash he left behind, whether intentionally or not, was a goldmine. Thousands of bullets, more than enough materials to keep crafting, and tools you'd only dreamed of having access to. You loaded up your weapon and got to work testing it, running it through the ringer to ensure it was as reliable as it needed to be.
You fired round after round at makeshift targets, adjusting the sights and calibrating the mechanisms. You took it apart and reassembled it until you could do it in your sleep. The engravings held strong, the burning wings on the barrel catching the light like a promise.
Every test, every round fired, brought you closer to perfection. This wasn't just a weapon—it was your lifeline, your protector, and a symbol of everything you were trying to become.
And as you packed up for the night, you couldn't help but glance at the photo one last time. Whatever truth Kenji thought you knew, you'd find it.
Recoil:
D20 => 14+1=15
Accuracy:
D20 => 11+1=12
The Laser Worked, and it appears there was an unintended side effect. The round that you made for it, had a very slightly decreased powder load. Not enough to damage the weapon, but just enough to provide a better and more controlable recoil.
And the accuracy… was passable. It was a big round, and the design was… comparable to a snub nose. Which was really damming for your pistol design.
Reliability:
D20 => 19+1=20
What surprised you most wasn't just that you'd put together a gun, it was the fact that it was
really well-made. Not just functional, but bordering on artisan craftsmanship. Everything about it, from the precision of its parts to the way it felt in your hands, exuded a sense of care and expertise you didn't think you were capable of.
The engravings were, admittedly, unnecessary from a tactical perspective. They added no practical advantage to the weapon's performance. And yet, somehow, they became a critical component of its reliability.
As you worked through the design, you discovered something unexpected. The excess steel you'd removed, sections you assumed were surplus to requirements, turned out to assist the firing mechanism in ways you hadn't anticipated. The added space allowed for a level of self-cleaning functionality that defied logic, but then again, self-cleaning functionality had existed for decades. Powder residue didn't cling to the interior as the engraving's polish merely allowed it to just, slide off with little effect, the water seemed to bead off, and even sand failed to find a home in its moving parts, because the engravings, rather than being a hindrance, with its extra polish and sheen, allowed the particles to breath, and even movement allowed the weapon to get clear. All because the engravings caught, then moved it away as there was movement, even with a simple brush of air, it would not cause problems to weapon itself.
The cylinder, ingeniously integrated into the jacket's interior when disassembled, provided a kind of environmental shielding. No matter what you subjected it to, drenching it in water, burying it in sand, it remained pristine and operational even if it looked dirty. Each test you threw at it only seemed to highlight how ridiculously lucky, or perhaps skilled, you'd been in its creation.
Then there was the drop safety.
In your initial designs, you hadn't even considered it, but the weapon's unique assembly mechanism naturally accounted for it. Because the gun couldn't be fired unless it was fully assembled, the hammer was physically incapable of striking the bullet prematurely. Even after assembly, you'd engineered the trigger pull to be deliberate, requiring firm contact with your palm to engage the under-barrel laser sight before the mechanism would engage.
The laser sight itself became a subtle but vital safety feature. By requiring activation before the weapon could fire, it ensured you couldn't accidentally discharge it. At first, you worried the added complexity might compromise the gun's reliability, but every test proved otherwise. The more you handled it, the more confident you became in its flawless operation.
Compatibility:
D20 => 17+1=18
When it came to cyberware compatibility, the design was nothing short of immaculate. Every potential flaw in traditional firearms—recoil, draw time, and even the complexities of manual operation—had been mitigated by the integration of cybernetics. It was as if the gun had been built with cybernetic enhancements in mind from the start, perfectly harmonizing with the precision and speed such augmentations offered.
But the true brilliance of the design was how it functioned just as flawlessly without cyberware. Your own arm and jacket, stripped of chrome enhancements, served as a testament to that adaptability. Even without the heightened reaction speeds or stabilization cybernetics could provide, you could draw and fire the weapon in two seconds flat. Not just fire it—but hit your mark with pinpoint accuracy, even if the target was moving directly toward you. though at only very close ranges.
The balance was so perfect, the mechanism so smooth, that the act of drawing and aiming felt almost instinctive, like an extension of your own body. In tests, the weapon consistently delivered lethal precision, making it a game-changer in close-quarters scenarios.
Its performance even challenged the infamous
21-foot rule—a guideline law enforcement followed that stated an armed suspect could close the distance before an officer could draw and fire their weapon. With this gun, that rule became obsolete. You could respond faster, aim truer, and deliver a shot before an assailant could take more than a step or two.
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Final Product for Version 1:
D20 + 5 => 24
It was a near-perfect gun. Yet you think that you could do better.
Reward:
Legendary Firearm Created: Killer Angel .44
A handcrafted masterpiece, the
Killer Angel .44 is a six-round holdout weapon that blends artistry and lethality into a single, devastating package.
- Caliber: .44 Magnum
- Capacity: 6 rounds
- Category: Legendary Firearm (Revolver)
- Special Features:
- Engravings: Elegant, angelic wing engravings adorn the barrel and frame, not just for aesthetics but as a statement of its creator's dedication. These engravings have been polished to a mirror-like finish, reflecting light in a way that both dazzles and intimidates.
- Adaptive Design: The weapon's construction perfectly integrates with cyberware, enhancing its draw speed and accuracy for chromed-up users while remaining effortlessly effective for unaugmented shooters.
- Self-Cleaning Mechanism: Through a stroke of engineering brilliance, or sheer luck, the excess steel that was removed through engraving and design refinements have resulted in a self-cleaning mechanism, ensuring reliability even in the harshest conditions.
- Safety Features: Drop-safe design prevents accidental discharges, and a heavy yet intuitive trigger pull ensures the weapon fires only when intended.
- Under-Barrel Laser Sight: Integrated for pinpoint accuracy in high-pressure scenarios. The sight activates automatically when gripped, giving the shooter immediate targeting capabilities.
- Performance:
- Pinpoint Accuracy: The Killer Angel .44 delivers unparalleled precision, capable of hitting moving targets with lethal efficiency. It's a weapon that defies the infamous 21-foot rule, allowing the wielder to outdraw and outshoot almost any opponent.
- Rapid Assembly: Stored discreetly in its custom-designed jacket, the weapon can disassemble and reassemble seamlessly in mere seconds, granting an edge in concealment and readiness.
- Recoil Management: Despite the raw power of the .44 Magnum round, the weapon's ergonomic grip and balanced weight distribution make it shockingly manageable, even for unaugmented users. Cyberarm compatibility further mitigates recoil, allowing for rapid follow-up shots.
