Cyberpunk: 2075

“Good morning, Night City! Yesterday’s death lottery saw only four casualties across all districts combined. I doubt anyone expected the number to be this low. I wonder how many of you lost everything down to your last pair of underwear. You should all be thanking the NCPD officers. If it weren’t for them—snacking on donuts while wielding their pistols and stopping you from making easy money—there would have been at least twenty deaths yesterday.

The Watson Vortex gang caused a ruckus again in the Kabuki district. These crazed addicts of cybernetic enhancements never seem to find peace for even a second. The Valentino gang from Heywood seems to have run into trouble too—so much so that they didn’t even celebrate their traditional Día de los Muertos. They’re wandering the streets like lost souls, pants in hand. It’s an endless saga day after day. Well, Pacifica remains Pacifica. I believe City Hall should award them for another day of peace. In short, I’m your steadfast brother Stan. Together, let’s begin a new day chasing dreams in Night City.”

The clamorous noise jolted Carl awake.

“Damn... my head hurts.”

Leaning against a wall, Carl opened his eyes, but the world before him was a blur of vibrant colors—a kaleidoscope assaulting his vision. The harsh brightness of the billboards dazzled him more than if his eyes had been closed.

“The neon signs are blinding...”

After his mind struggled to process the increasingly clear images, Carl realized he was lying in a stinking pile of garbage on a high-floor balcony, peering through a waist-hi