"David, what the hell are you doing, you brat?"
As soon as he entered the Afterlife Bar, Claire, the bartender, shouted at him, "Hurry up and get into your work clothes! I'm drowning here!"
Claire was known for her sharp tongue but was also surprisingly warm and helpful to those she cared about. It was Claire who had agreed to let David work part-time at the bar.
She saw a bit of herself in him—a native with no cyberware.
While Rogue, the bar's legendary owner, had built her reputation and protection over decades, David had nothing when he arrived in Night City. Survival in a place was nearly impossible without help.
In a way, Claire had thrown him a lifeline when no one else would.
A quick note about Claire: she was originally a man. But in her pursuit of love and freedom, she underwent a gender transition, quit her job as a Militech engineer, and eventually landed at the Afterlife Bar as a bartender. Her story was one of resilience and living life on her own terms.
"Alright, alright, I'm on it, sis," David replied with a grin, hurrying to the back to change.
Since he was only a part-timer, his uniform was just a basic apron with the bar's logo on it. A QR code was printed on the chest for collecting tips—a common practice in Night City.
David's duties included cleaning glasses, delivering drinks, and occasionally helping Claire mix cocktails when she was swamped. His income mostly came from tips, as the bar attracted wealthy clients, from corporate elites to mercenary leaders, who tipped generously.
"David, you better keep your head straight today," Claire called out while expertly mixing drinks. "We're hosting a big party tonight, and Rogue herself is expected to show up. Don't screw this up, or I won't be able to cover for you."
"You know how hard it is for someone like you to make it in Night City..."
David nodded, half-listening as he wiped down the counter. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "Claire's more nagging than my old schoolteacher," he thought.
"Here," Claire said, placing a tray of dark beers on the counter. "Take these to the V22 private room."
"Got it!" David grabbed the tray and navigated through the crowded bar.
A Night at the Afterlife
The Afterlife Bar was in full swing.
Loud music pulsed through the air as patrons filled the dance floor. Behind glass enclosures, dancers moved seductively under strobing lights.
The crowd was a mix of Arasaka executives, gang members, and mercenaries. While these groups often clashed in the streets, they maintained an uneasy truce within the Afterlife, out of respect—or fear—of Rogue's reputation.
Dodging through the throng, David made his way to the quieter private rooms.
"V22... Here we are," he muttered, stopping in front of the door.
"Hello, your drinks are here," he announced.
"Yeah, yeah, hold on!" a man's voice replied impatiently.
David sighed. Judging by the tone, he doubted he'd get a tip for this delivery.
The door creaked open, but instead of a gruff mercenary, a petite girl with bright green twin tails stood in the doorway.
She wore an oversized jacket that emphasized her small frame, and her red-and-green prosthetic eyes glowed faintly as they scanned David. The combination of her vibrant hair and cyberware gave her a chaotic but charming appearance.
David froze for a moment.
"Rebecca?" he muttered under his breath, recognizing her instantly.
Rebecca, the quirky, gun-toting edge runner, was an iconic figure in Night City. Her unique style and unhinged personality made her unforgettable.
"Huh? Do I know you?" Rebecca asked, tilting her head curiously while chewing gum.
"Oh, uh, I've heard about you on the streets," David said quickly, recovering. "Your marksmanship is kind of legendary."
Rebecca's eyes lit up, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Heh, really? People are talking about me already? Nice!"
Her prosthetic eyes crinkled in delight, giving her a surprisingly endearing look. Like all edge runners, Rebecca dreamed of becoming a Night City legend, and any recognition fueled that ambition.
David smiled and handed her the tray of beers. "Here are your drinks."
Rebecca reached for the tray, but her expression suddenly soured. She turned and yelled into the private room, "Hey, bro! Didn't you order me a drink?"
A voice called back lazily, "Huh? Drinks? Forgot. Just order some later!"
David peeked inside the room. Sitting around the table was none other than Maine's mercenary team.
The towering leader, Maine.
The eccentric techie, Pilar.
Dorio, Maine's dependable partner.
The hacker duo, Kiwi and Sasha.
The team's core members were all there, except for Lucy and David, who had yet to join the group.
Rebecca turned back to David, muttering angrily, "That idiot never forgets to stuff his face, but he always forgets the important stuff!"
Then she flashed David an apologetic smile. "Hey, can you grab me a bottle of soda? Something really cold."
"No problem. Want ice with that?"
Rebecca scanned the QR code on David's apron to tip him.
David's terminal buzzed. He glanced down in surprise. Rebecca had tipped him 100 eurodollars—a generous amount for such a small request.
"Thanks, kid!" Rebecca chirped, flashing him a peace sign before closing the door.
David couldn't help but smile as he headed back to the bar. Despite her wild reputation, Rebecca had a warm and generous side.
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