I think it's still supposed to be an upper class district with lots of resorts and playgrounds for the rich. It doesn't start getting bad until the fourth corporate war kicks off and it's flooded with refugees trying to get away from the violence in the other districts
The Architect of Anarchy: A Cyberpunk Crafting Quest
- Thread starter Magoose
- Start date
- Mature Sci-Fi
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
As I have said it is starting to begin to show signs of becoming the place we know and love.
Only instead of gangs and net runners trying to destroy the world…
It's the corps and ultra rich doing lots of shit thinking they can get away with it.
And it's going to give way eventually.
- Pronouns
- Reader
That's a lot better than I hoped for.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
When I say that Pacifica is one of the safer places to be in night city because the ultra wealthy are just going insane and starting to kill eachother over the most minor of bullshit… that it makes some of the shit that went on in the past like duels of honor or… table sitting…
That should tell you everything you need to know about the city.
Soul crushing poverty in one area… mind blowing wealth in the other.
Both co mingling will lead to an explosion and orgy of violence.
Also I just realized something. Our favorite ripper Vik is around the same age as our boy and is a boxing prodigy who hung up the gloves… to become a doctor…
Ideas are swimming.
Last edited:
Hey rich guy with a grudge, wanna buy a gun?
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
It's a really good one…
And that where we get our start up capital!
Yep selling ghost guns to rich dipshits is as good of a start as any.It's a really good one…
And that where we get our start up capital!
We have to get the money to buy a legal gun license somehow. We could use the money we have now but Mom and Dad are going to eventually wonder what we spent 20 grand on if we use their cash.
- Location
- Africa
I am pretty sure Pacifica doesn't really exist yet , it was a development project for a tourist trap/ resort town set up in the 2070s but the project collapsed because of the metal wars crushing investor confidence and driving away tourism coupled with Barguest a rogue militech paramilitary group setting up shop there with enough fire power to fight a war with the NCPD and win plus a wave of refugees from the island Hatti that sunk deciding to squat there pretty much turned it into the lawless zone from 2077
right now though Pacifica is just another city district if its even been built yet , though their is a lawless area in Night city called the Combat Zone that fulfills the same narrative function
Last edited:
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
We're in 2014 and the combat zone is in its infancy as a controlled environment.
Again when I say that Pacifica is Pacifica I'm saying the rot that it will turn into is there and can't be stopped.
Yes it's still development with only a few places built but they are in the lixery super wealth way.
Also I wanted to do just a tiny bit of changes not out of any malice or hatered but out of pure love for the environment.
Also some of the codexes in 2077 make me think that it was just beginning to start being that playground for the wealthy when 2014 and 2020 rolled around and it started to go all downhill.
Is voting still open? I forgot.
[X] Plan Labyrinth
[X] Plan Labyrinth
- Location
- Africa
things only start going down hill during the 2020s when the fourth corporate war kicks off and goes out of control , which absolutely no one saw coming except in hindsight cause that world devastating outright apocalyptic war stated off as fight between two ocean exploitation firms over a third company that had went under while being egged on from the shadows by a fourth firm who wanted to swoop in and take over all of them
shit escalated the two firms hired Militech and Arasaka private military to fight the war for them and from there it went out of control and lots of WMDS get exchanged , 2010s and 2020s of cyberpunk are very different from the 2070s
I don't think it's to much of a break. Put enough rich corpo jackasses together and someone's going to try something. Especially when the alcohol and drugs come into play.
- Pronouns
- Reader
If my plan were winning we could maybe head to market next turn and pawn off 2 or 3 killer angel knock offs, but we aren't finding a good buyer for the original in a dinky night market. Oh well. Try again next turn with fewer actions.
Vote closed
New
Turn 2 Results
New
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Turn 2 Results:
-[X]Wake up, Go To School, Stay Alive: You are going to focus on your studies. And honestly, you might as well try to make some noise. Mom and Dad are expecting things from you. Rolled:D20 => 18
Event Roll:D20 => 20
When you returned to school the following day, something felt off. The air was thick with tension, the entire campus seemingly holding its breath, waiting. Conversations hushed as you walked past, and every sideways glance carried the weight of expectation.
But this time, you were armed.
Before stepping out of the car, you double-checked the revolver. The cylinder was fully loaded. Kenji hadn't said a word after dropping you off, but you knew he was watching. Always watching.
Then, all at once, the crowd parted.
Your bully emerged from the throng, still bearing the evidence of your last encounter. His jacket was scorched, his skin marred with healing burns—a constant reminder of what you had done to him. But it wasn't just him this time. He had backup.
Five of them.
They weren't students. That much was obvious. Heywood muscle, street punks hired for a quick job, standing beside him with the kind of casual menace that suggested they had done this before. Bats, pipes, knives—one of them even carried an old M1911A1, an oversized magazine jutting from the bottom like an afterthought.
Amateurs.
The idiot still had his safety on. If he was planning to use it, he'd need a second to flick it off—a second he might not have.
"Alright, Samurai," your bully sneered, pointing a knife at you. "I think it's time someone taught you a lesson."
You tilted your head. "Five people? You need five people to handle me?" the laser activated, and you prepared.
"My associates are well compensated," he said, grinning like he had already won. "And they're professionals."
You scoffed. "Compensated? With what—food?" You rolled your eyes. This was a waste of time. You had no interest in some pointless display of bravado. "You're just making yourself look weak. You couldn't handle me alone, so you hired outside help—from outside the school, no less. That's pathetic."
His smirk faltered. "You really think you're tough, huh?"
"No," you said flatly. "But I do know that people are watching."
And they were.
The entire school had stopped. Students clustered around, wide-eyed and waiting. Faculty members whispered into phones, desperate to get security involved before things escalated.
But it was already too late.
This wasn't a fight.
This was war.
And you weren't going to lose.
"Get him, boys," your bully commanded.
That was when they realized something. A bright red dot had appeared—steady, unwavering—on the hand of the one holding the pistol.
"Make him st—"
A deafening bang cut through the air. The Killer Angel roared to life, the recoil jarring your arm, but your aim was true. The ganger's hand exploded in a spray of blood and shattered bone, the pistol clattering uselessly to the pavement as he collapsed, screaming. He barely had time to register the pain before shock took him, his body twitching as he passed out in a growing pool of his own blood.
The two closest to you reacted on instinct, charging forward in blind desperation, their fear overridden by the sheer need to close the gap before you fired again.
But they were too slow.
You steadied your grip, ignoring the ache in your wrist, and squeezed the trigger twice. The magnum rounds tore through their legs, sending them crumpling to the ground. Blood seeped into the concrete, pooling around them as they clutched their ruined limbs, howling in agony. Bone fragments littered the ground like broken teeth.
The last two hesitated. One turned and ran. The other, eyes wild with terror, dove for the discarded pistol, his boots splashing through the gore left by his fallen comrades.
You took a breath. Exhaled. Fired.
His foot disintegrated in a fresh burst of blood and shredded flesh. He collapsed, wailing, crawling toward what was left of his foot as though he could somehow put it back together.
And then there was only one left.
Your bully stood motionless, his knife forgotten in his grip. The laser sight traced its way up his torso, settling on his chest. He was barely two feet away, close enough that you could see the moment realization dawned in his eyes—the cold, paralyzing understanding that he was about to die.
You smirked.
"Well, buddy, I've got two bullets left… but that would be taking advantage."
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recalled an old Western, something with a muddy backdrop, a lone knight in leather armor, and an automatic weapon against the forces of evil. Something that was medieval about this… a man… no a Lord, seeing a peasant that disrespected him… being cut down with his blade.
Yes…that would do.
If you had wanted him dead, he would be.
But this wasn't about killing.
It was about making a point.
"This is what happens when you don't go all the way when plotting anything," you said, voice steady. "You bring a knife? I bring a gun. You try to put me in the hospital? I put all of yours in the morgue."
You didn't need to pull the trigger. The message had already been delivered.
A dark stain spread down his pants as his body betrayed him, and then, just as quickly, security arrived.
You holstered the Killer Angel, raised your hands, and let them take you away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Legally, you were untouchable.
Your bully had made the fatal mistake of bringing outside muscle onto Arasaka Academy grounds. They weren't students. They weren't supposed to be there. And more importantly, they were armed and dangerous. You had defended yourself with precision and efficiency, a clean execution of self-preservation that left no room for debate. That you didn't miss or damage anything besides the people who threatened you was just the cherry on top of the entire thing. Everyone from faculty to students and even security were impressed that you were able to shoot that well, even with the assistance of a very overpowered laser pointer that the design had come with.
Oh if only they knew.
The fallout was immediate. Your bully was to be expelled without question. Threatening Arasaka students was a sin that carried consequences far beyond mere suspension or reprimand. Expulsion was the lightest of punishments that the administration was forced to give. Prison time was almost a certainty. And if the right intermediaries got involved, he might not even last long enough to see a cell. You wouldn't be surprised if he ended up a tragic statistic before the week was out.
But as far as the Academy was concerned, you were in the right.
After an hour of questioning, they let you go with nothing more than a warning.
Just because .44 Magnum revolvers weren't explicitly on the school's banned firearms list didn't mean you should be using one on campus.
"Next time," one of the security officers suggested, "stick to a .45 or a .38. Less of a mess for the janitorial staff."
They weren't joking.
As you walked back to class, the principal caught you at the door, his sharp gaze studying you carefully. His eyes drifted toward the weapon still resting in its holster, the faintest trace of curiosity flickering across his face.
"What is that design?" he finally asked.
You smiled, casual, unbothered. "Something I had help putting together."
It was a half-truth. A careful deception.
You weren't about to reveal the full extent of your skill—not yet. Not until you were ready. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.
For now, they only saw the surface of what you could do.
And that was exactly how you wanted it.
Reward Unlocked: Dominance Asserted – Arasaka Academy
Your display of power was more than just a fight—it was a message, burned into the minds of every student who witnessed it. The halls of Arasaka Academy would never be the same as long as you are here. And maybe even long after.
No one would ever dare to mess with you again.
Now, when you walked through the corridors, conversations hushed. Students parted like the Red Sea, their eyes darting toward you with a mix of fear and respect. The ones who had mocked you before now whispered in hushed tones, careful not to draw your attention. Even the faculty seemed uneasy, watching you with wary glances, as if second-guessing their authority over you.
You weren't just a student anymore. You were an enigma. A force of nature.
Everyone wanted to be your friend—sycophants and opportunists alike, desperate to align themselves with the one person no one dared cross. Your name carried weight now, heavier than any title or rank. And with it came power. Influence. Even those who outranked you in wealth or status suddenly found themselves hesitant to challenge you.
But beneath the admiration, the fear festered.
They weren't just respecting you. They were terrified of what you might do next. Of what else you had up your sleeve.
And that? That was more valuable than any grade or diploma Arasaka Academy could ever offer.
You are now maxed out on Arasaka reputation.
Somewhere in Japan, your parents learn of this… and they are proud.
----------------------------------------------------
-[X]Assist a Fellow Student: A desperate classmate needs help repairing a project. They might owe you later, or you could hold it over their head. Rolled:D20 => 12
Stella brought in another student with her—a younger kid, maybe fourteen at most. He sat at a nearby table, completely absorbed in the process of assembling and disassembling a Colt .45 Peacemaker. A revolver.
You stared for a moment, then let out an incredulous scoff. "Are you fucking serious?" you asked. "What is he—" You paused, then ran a hand down your face with a sigh. "A Peacemaker?"
The kid didn't even look up. "You seem to like revolvers, seeing as how you used one so well," he shot back, voice light, almost amused. "Me? I prefer a weapon from a more civilized age."
You snorted. "Yeah, back when Americans were slaughtering Natives?"
His grin didn't waver. "History's messy."
You folded your arms, studying him. He was too young, too eager, the kind of kid who probably watched too many old-world flicks and thought they were gospel. But there was something else too—something that put you on edge.
"What's your deal?" you asked. "Stella has a reason to be here. What's yours?"
His fingers never stopped moving as he spun the cylinder of his revolver, carelessly pointing it at both you and Stella as he twirled it. A loaded revolver.
"I wanna be an awesome solo, like Morgan Blackhand," he said, grinning like a kid talking about their favorite toy.
You didn't flinch, but your muscles tensed. This kid's gonna get himself killed. "Then you'll be dead in a week," you said flatly. "That takes cyberware. Training. Discipline. Which you don't have."
He stopped twirling the gun and finally met your eyes. "Just because I act the fool doesn't mean I am one. After all, who would've thought you were a badass gunslinger?"
You didn't bother correcting him. I designed the gun. I've fired it thousands of times. That didn't make you a gunslinger. But you didn't say that.
"Fine," you said instead. "Why should I believe you're some badass instead of a kid playing at one?"
Stella sighed, rubbing her temple before gesturing toward him. "This is Malcolm Aistuf. My bodyguard."
You arched a brow. "Bodyguard? You?"
Malcolm shrugged. "Believe what you want."
Then you looked into his eyes.
And you saw it.
Not his irises—those were gone, replaced with high-end Kiroshi optics. But even through the cold metallic lenses, there was something else, something deeper.
A void.
A deadness.
Like he had killed before.
And like he had never lost a single bit of sleep over it.
Than he smiled and holstered his pistol. "So… can you get me a gun?"
That made you smile. "Maybe. But that depends on what you can do for me?"
Reward: Met Malcolm Aistuf. Stella's bodyguard… and from his eyes… he was a cold-blooded killer… who was probobly crazier than you ever would.
If you didn't know any better… he would make a good Arasaka Assassin. Or he was one already.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-[X]Maintain the Academy: You are requested to fix something that the faculty is not able to deal with. So here you are. (A required action) Rolled:D20 => 5+1=6
As it turned out, the rot ran far deeper than you had initially thought—deeper than anyone could have imagined.
The emergency power system, the very thing keeping the lights on, was a disaster waiting to happen. It wasn't just overstretched with power consumption and regulation; it was a ticking time bomb. The infrastructure was so entangled with the main grid since it's creation, that simply disconnecting it could cause a catastrophic backlash. And if that happened, the consequences wouldn't just be limited to the academy. The entire Night City power grid could go down in a cascading failure, potentially plunging the city into chaos as the power grid would fucking explode… as in, everything that ran on electricity would explode.
And if there was one thing Night City didn't need, it was more chaos.
Fixing it wasn't just a matter of swapping out a few parts or patching some code. No, the only real solution was to isolate the entire building's system, strip it down to its bones—section by section—and rebuild it from scratch. That kind of work would normally take years.
Years that Arasaka Academy didn't have.
So instead, they came up with a different plan. A reckless, impossible plan.
They wanted the entire system rebuilt in a month.
You stared at them, deadpan, as they laid out their expectations. Then you told them, flatly, that it wasn't possible. Not without an astronomical amount of resources, manpower, and around-the-clock work.
The principal listened to your objections without argument. Then he simply nodded and said, "I'll get back to you on that."
Failure. Suffer no ill effects from failure because it is outside your control.
-------------------------------------------------
-[X]The Workshop Powerstatintion: You think that if the School is bad, maybe your apartment is worse. maybe you can even fix it? Rolled:D20 + 1 => 8
Unlike the Academy, the building's power situation wasn't just complicated, it was barely holding together.
Circuits that should have been long replaced were patched together with whatever scraps someone had on hand. Power flowed through the system like a sluggish, poisoned river, barely keeping the lights on. One wrong move, one careless mistake, and the entire buildings system could collapse.
But that wasn't the immediate problem.
Kenji was.
He watched you like a hawk, shutting down every attempt you made to upgrade your lab before you could even get started. Resources were rerouted. Shipments delayed. Work orders denied. It wasn't an open act of sabotage, but it was enough to stall you at every turn.
The only reason he hadn't outright confiscated your tools or locked you out?
"You will not work on the building until I deem it. Because if you break something, bad things will happen."
It wasn't a command. It wasn't even a warning.
It was a statement of fact.
And it sent a chill down your spine.
Failure.
AN: Enjoy.
-[X]Wake up, Go To School, Stay Alive: You are going to focus on your studies. And honestly, you might as well try to make some noise. Mom and Dad are expecting things from you. Rolled:D20 => 18
Event Roll:D20 => 20
When you returned to school the following day, something felt off. The air was thick with tension, the entire campus seemingly holding its breath, waiting. Conversations hushed as you walked past, and every sideways glance carried the weight of expectation.
But this time, you were armed.
Before stepping out of the car, you double-checked the revolver. The cylinder was fully loaded. Kenji hadn't said a word after dropping you off, but you knew he was watching. Always watching.
Then, all at once, the crowd parted.
Your bully emerged from the throng, still bearing the evidence of your last encounter. His jacket was scorched, his skin marred with healing burns—a constant reminder of what you had done to him. But it wasn't just him this time. He had backup.
Five of them.
They weren't students. That much was obvious. Heywood muscle, street punks hired for a quick job, standing beside him with the kind of casual menace that suggested they had done this before. Bats, pipes, knives—one of them even carried an old M1911A1, an oversized magazine jutting from the bottom like an afterthought.
Amateurs.
The idiot still had his safety on. If he was planning to use it, he'd need a second to flick it off—a second he might not have.
"Alright, Samurai," your bully sneered, pointing a knife at you. "I think it's time someone taught you a lesson."
You tilted your head. "Five people? You need five people to handle me?" the laser activated, and you prepared.
"My associates are well compensated," he said, grinning like he had already won. "And they're professionals."
You scoffed. "Compensated? With what—food?" You rolled your eyes. This was a waste of time. You had no interest in some pointless display of bravado. "You're just making yourself look weak. You couldn't handle me alone, so you hired outside help—from outside the school, no less. That's pathetic."
His smirk faltered. "You really think you're tough, huh?"
"No," you said flatly. "But I do know that people are watching."
And they were.
The entire school had stopped. Students clustered around, wide-eyed and waiting. Faculty members whispered into phones, desperate to get security involved before things escalated.
But it was already too late.
This wasn't a fight.
This was war.
And you weren't going to lose.
"Get him, boys," your bully commanded.
That was when they realized something. A bright red dot had appeared—steady, unwavering—on the hand of the one holding the pistol.
"Make him st—"
A deafening bang cut through the air. The Killer Angel roared to life, the recoil jarring your arm, but your aim was true. The ganger's hand exploded in a spray of blood and shattered bone, the pistol clattering uselessly to the pavement as he collapsed, screaming. He barely had time to register the pain before shock took him, his body twitching as he passed out in a growing pool of his own blood.
The two closest to you reacted on instinct, charging forward in blind desperation, their fear overridden by the sheer need to close the gap before you fired again.
But they were too slow.
You steadied your grip, ignoring the ache in your wrist, and squeezed the trigger twice. The magnum rounds tore through their legs, sending them crumpling to the ground. Blood seeped into the concrete, pooling around them as they clutched their ruined limbs, howling in agony. Bone fragments littered the ground like broken teeth.
The last two hesitated. One turned and ran. The other, eyes wild with terror, dove for the discarded pistol, his boots splashing through the gore left by his fallen comrades.
You took a breath. Exhaled. Fired.
His foot disintegrated in a fresh burst of blood and shredded flesh. He collapsed, wailing, crawling toward what was left of his foot as though he could somehow put it back together.
And then there was only one left.
Your bully stood motionless, his knife forgotten in his grip. The laser sight traced its way up his torso, settling on his chest. He was barely two feet away, close enough that you could see the moment realization dawned in his eyes—the cold, paralyzing understanding that he was about to die.
You smirked.
"Well, buddy, I've got two bullets left… but that would be taking advantage."
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recalled an old Western, something with a muddy backdrop, a lone knight in leather armor, and an automatic weapon against the forces of evil. Something that was medieval about this… a man… no a Lord, seeing a peasant that disrespected him… being cut down with his blade.
Yes…that would do.
If you had wanted him dead, he would be.
But this wasn't about killing.
It was about making a point.
"This is what happens when you don't go all the way when plotting anything," you said, voice steady. "You bring a knife? I bring a gun. You try to put me in the hospital? I put all of yours in the morgue."
You didn't need to pull the trigger. The message had already been delivered.
A dark stain spread down his pants as his body betrayed him, and then, just as quickly, security arrived.
You holstered the Killer Angel, raised your hands, and let them take you away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Legally, you were untouchable.
Your bully had made the fatal mistake of bringing outside muscle onto Arasaka Academy grounds. They weren't students. They weren't supposed to be there. And more importantly, they were armed and dangerous. You had defended yourself with precision and efficiency, a clean execution of self-preservation that left no room for debate. That you didn't miss or damage anything besides the people who threatened you was just the cherry on top of the entire thing. Everyone from faculty to students and even security were impressed that you were able to shoot that well, even with the assistance of a very overpowered laser pointer that the design had come with.
Oh if only they knew.
The fallout was immediate. Your bully was to be expelled without question. Threatening Arasaka students was a sin that carried consequences far beyond mere suspension or reprimand. Expulsion was the lightest of punishments that the administration was forced to give. Prison time was almost a certainty. And if the right intermediaries got involved, he might not even last long enough to see a cell. You wouldn't be surprised if he ended up a tragic statistic before the week was out.
But as far as the Academy was concerned, you were in the right.
After an hour of questioning, they let you go with nothing more than a warning.
Just because .44 Magnum revolvers weren't explicitly on the school's banned firearms list didn't mean you should be using one on campus.
"Next time," one of the security officers suggested, "stick to a .45 or a .38. Less of a mess for the janitorial staff."
They weren't joking.
As you walked back to class, the principal caught you at the door, his sharp gaze studying you carefully. His eyes drifted toward the weapon still resting in its holster, the faintest trace of curiosity flickering across his face.
"What is that design?" he finally asked.
You smiled, casual, unbothered. "Something I had help putting together."
It was a half-truth. A careful deception.
You weren't about to reveal the full extent of your skill—not yet. Not until you were ready. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.
For now, they only saw the surface of what you could do.
And that was exactly how you wanted it.
Reward Unlocked: Dominance Asserted – Arasaka Academy
Your display of power was more than just a fight—it was a message, burned into the minds of every student who witnessed it. The halls of Arasaka Academy would never be the same as long as you are here. And maybe even long after.
No one would ever dare to mess with you again.
Now, when you walked through the corridors, conversations hushed. Students parted like the Red Sea, their eyes darting toward you with a mix of fear and respect. The ones who had mocked you before now whispered in hushed tones, careful not to draw your attention. Even the faculty seemed uneasy, watching you with wary glances, as if second-guessing their authority over you.
You weren't just a student anymore. You were an enigma. A force of nature.
Everyone wanted to be your friend—sycophants and opportunists alike, desperate to align themselves with the one person no one dared cross. Your name carried weight now, heavier than any title or rank. And with it came power. Influence. Even those who outranked you in wealth or status suddenly found themselves hesitant to challenge you.
But beneath the admiration, the fear festered.
They weren't just respecting you. They were terrified of what you might do next. Of what else you had up your sleeve.
And that? That was more valuable than any grade or diploma Arasaka Academy could ever offer.
You are now maxed out on Arasaka reputation.
Somewhere in Japan, your parents learn of this… and they are proud.
----------------------------------------------------
-[X]Assist a Fellow Student: A desperate classmate needs help repairing a project. They might owe you later, or you could hold it over their head. Rolled:D20 => 12
Stella brought in another student with her—a younger kid, maybe fourteen at most. He sat at a nearby table, completely absorbed in the process of assembling and disassembling a Colt .45 Peacemaker. A revolver.
You stared for a moment, then let out an incredulous scoff. "Are you fucking serious?" you asked. "What is he—" You paused, then ran a hand down your face with a sigh. "A Peacemaker?"
The kid didn't even look up. "You seem to like revolvers, seeing as how you used one so well," he shot back, voice light, almost amused. "Me? I prefer a weapon from a more civilized age."
You snorted. "Yeah, back when Americans were slaughtering Natives?"
His grin didn't waver. "History's messy."
You folded your arms, studying him. He was too young, too eager, the kind of kid who probably watched too many old-world flicks and thought they were gospel. But there was something else too—something that put you on edge.
"What's your deal?" you asked. "Stella has a reason to be here. What's yours?"
His fingers never stopped moving as he spun the cylinder of his revolver, carelessly pointing it at both you and Stella as he twirled it. A loaded revolver.
"I wanna be an awesome solo, like Morgan Blackhand," he said, grinning like a kid talking about their favorite toy.
You didn't flinch, but your muscles tensed. This kid's gonna get himself killed. "Then you'll be dead in a week," you said flatly. "That takes cyberware. Training. Discipline. Which you don't have."
He stopped twirling the gun and finally met your eyes. "Just because I act the fool doesn't mean I am one. After all, who would've thought you were a badass gunslinger?"
You didn't bother correcting him. I designed the gun. I've fired it thousands of times. That didn't make you a gunslinger. But you didn't say that.
"Fine," you said instead. "Why should I believe you're some badass instead of a kid playing at one?"
Stella sighed, rubbing her temple before gesturing toward him. "This is Malcolm Aistuf. My bodyguard."
You arched a brow. "Bodyguard? You?"
Malcolm shrugged. "Believe what you want."
Then you looked into his eyes.
And you saw it.
Not his irises—those were gone, replaced with high-end Kiroshi optics. But even through the cold metallic lenses, there was something else, something deeper.
A void.
A deadness.
Like he had killed before.
And like he had never lost a single bit of sleep over it.
Than he smiled and holstered his pistol. "So… can you get me a gun?"
That made you smile. "Maybe. But that depends on what you can do for me?"
Reward: Met Malcolm Aistuf. Stella's bodyguard… and from his eyes… he was a cold-blooded killer… who was probobly crazier than you ever would.
If you didn't know any better… he would make a good Arasaka Assassin. Or he was one already.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-[X]Maintain the Academy: You are requested to fix something that the faculty is not able to deal with. So here you are. (A required action) Rolled:D20 => 5+1=6
As it turned out, the rot ran far deeper than you had initially thought—deeper than anyone could have imagined.
The emergency power system, the very thing keeping the lights on, was a disaster waiting to happen. It wasn't just overstretched with power consumption and regulation; it was a ticking time bomb. The infrastructure was so entangled with the main grid since it's creation, that simply disconnecting it could cause a catastrophic backlash. And if that happened, the consequences wouldn't just be limited to the academy. The entire Night City power grid could go down in a cascading failure, potentially plunging the city into chaos as the power grid would fucking explode… as in, everything that ran on electricity would explode.
And if there was one thing Night City didn't need, it was more chaos.
Fixing it wasn't just a matter of swapping out a few parts or patching some code. No, the only real solution was to isolate the entire building's system, strip it down to its bones—section by section—and rebuild it from scratch. That kind of work would normally take years.
Years that Arasaka Academy didn't have.
So instead, they came up with a different plan. A reckless, impossible plan.
They wanted the entire system rebuilt in a month.
You stared at them, deadpan, as they laid out their expectations. Then you told them, flatly, that it wasn't possible. Not without an astronomical amount of resources, manpower, and around-the-clock work.
The principal listened to your objections without argument. Then he simply nodded and said, "I'll get back to you on that."
Failure. Suffer no ill effects from failure because it is outside your control.
-------------------------------------------------
-[X]The Workshop Powerstatintion: You think that if the School is bad, maybe your apartment is worse. maybe you can even fix it? Rolled:D20 + 1 => 8
Unlike the Academy, the building's power situation wasn't just complicated, it was barely holding together.
Circuits that should have been long replaced were patched together with whatever scraps someone had on hand. Power flowed through the system like a sluggish, poisoned river, barely keeping the lights on. One wrong move, one careless mistake, and the entire buildings system could collapse.
But that wasn't the immediate problem.
Kenji was.
He watched you like a hawk, shutting down every attempt you made to upgrade your lab before you could even get started. Resources were rerouted. Shipments delayed. Work orders denied. It wasn't an open act of sabotage, but it was enough to stall you at every turn.
The only reason he hadn't outright confiscated your tools or locked you out?
"You will not work on the building until I deem it. Because if you break something, bad things will happen."
It wasn't a command. It wasn't even a warning.
It was a statement of fact.
And it sent a chill down your spine.
Failure.
AN: Enjoy.
- Location
- USA
With all these failures and successes, you think maybe we'd have better success if we pivot the character from scientific engineering to social engineering?
Well, shame about the failures but at least no one's gonna bully us for a while.
So what kind of gun does Malcom want?
Maybe something a little more easier to shoot then the one we did. The security officers did give some good advice. Maybe a .38
- Pronouns
- Reader
See, this is one of the reasons we should wait on the building. Our modifiers are shit because our tools and resources are limited. We should invest in improving our modifiers in a manner that isn't some mega project before we tackle repairing a megastructure without support.
Okay, what is the tangible benefit to this? I mean, I guess we can reasonably expect the faculty to go along with our tech course creation scheme, but a break down on how rep effects things mechanically seems useful.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
The tangible benifit a are a lot. I actually plan to expand in another update.
But one thing that you do have to know is this:
Let's just say that lots of… arasaka retainers will work for you for free.
And the top people are starting to look into you.
Which is a good thing and a bad thing.
- Pronouns
- Reader
Ahh. May Saburo live an interesting life far too busy to divide his attention to listen to rumors of one mad lad in Night City.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Yeah but it's in night city so… yeah he might be looking in.
Faction Reputation and You
New
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Faction Reputation and You
You may have noticed that you now have the maximum reputation with one of the major factions of Night City.
This is both a blessing and a curse. The higher-ups have taken a vested interest in you, which can mean a wealth of opportunities—if you play your cards right. However, it also means scrutiny, obligations, and dangers you might not have anticipated.
Let's go over the pros and cons of having max relations with these organizations.
Pros:
So... Here is some... yes some of the things you have to look out for.
And note that you can leave the factions good graces at any time...
It just might require you to shoot your way out. Or rather, others to do that for you.
You may have noticed that you now have the maximum reputation with one of the major factions of Night City.
This is both a blessing and a curse. The higher-ups have taken a vested interest in you, which can mean a wealth of opportunities—if you play your cards right. However, it also means scrutiny, obligations, and dangers you might not have anticipated.
Let's go over the pros and cons of having max relations with these organizations.
Pros:
- Increased Resource Gain – Completing missions for the faction yields significantly higher rewards, whether in the form of cash, materials, or rare blueprints.
- Immediate Access to Hired Help – Need a team? You can recruit faction operatives without the hassle of completing their personal side gigs first.
- Exclusive Mercenary Support – Gain access to a specialized mercenary that can be deployed on missions to increase your success rate. (For Arasaka, no, it's not Adam Smasher—he's too unpredictable, too valuable, and frankly, too psychotic to be assigned to you.)
- Premium Sales Pricing – The faction will pay triple the standard price for any weapons, armor, or tech you manufacture and sell to them.
- Influence Over Night City – You can request special favors that may alter how the city operates, giving you strategic advantages in business, politics, or combat zones.
- Priority Access to Technology – As your reputation grows, you'll gain early or exclusive access to the latest tech, gadgets, and cyberware. This gives you an edge over others in the city, who will be scrambling for secondhand goods.
- Larger Influence in the Market – With faction backing, you can leverage their resources to corner certain markets or supply chains, ensuring you control key aspects of Night City's black market or industrial sectors.
- Increased Respect and Recognition – The more connected you are to the faction, the more respect you'll earn within the city. You'll be recognized as a person of power and influence, often able to bypass lower-level threats and issues without a second thought. (Meaning you get more reputation per work order)
Cons:
- Exclusive Supplier Expectation – They expect you to manufacture and sell only to them. Any outside dealings may be seen as treasonous.
- Mandatory Work Orders – Every turn, you will be required to complete missions or assignments for them, whether you like it or not. Failure to do so will not go unnoticed.
- No Time for Fun – Personal projects, workshop upgrades, and even maintaining a social life? Forget it. The faction expects you to be focused on their priorities, not yours.
- Constant Surveillance – Your movements, transactions, and even personal interactions will be monitored. Privacy? That's a relic of the past.
- Potential for Elimination – The faction's leadership may see you as a threat rather than an asset. If you rise too high, challenge the status quo, or become too independent, they may decide that eliminating you is the safest option.
- Internal Power Struggles – Even if the leader spares you, others in the organization might not. Higher-ups, rivals, or even jealous subordinates could decide that assassinating you is their best move.
- Moral Compromise – The more you involve yourself with the faction, the more likely you are to be drawn into morally gray or outright unethical actions. From exploitation to violence, working for such a faction could corrupt your values, especially if their goals don't align with your own.
- Increased Threat From Rival Factions – With your faction's support, you may become a target for rival groups seeking to take you down or undermine your progress. Others may see you as a threat to their control and will actively work against you, using everything from corporate espionage to violent sabotage.
So... Here is some... yes some of the things you have to look out for.
And note that you can leave the factions good graces at any time...
It just might require you to shoot your way out. Or rather, others to do that for you.
Last edited: