Outrun - Cyberpunk LitRPG

Pulling onto my street, I noticed a Blue Crusade Cruiser sitting at the corner. Was there a bust going on? I checked it out, noticing it was an actual Crusader’s car based on the markings. Why was one here and not just squires? Usually, Crusaders only showed up for serious stuff, like a ‘borg glitching out. Their squires usually do all the heavy lifting.

I shifted it out of my head as I parked in front of my home. Before heading up, I moved to the container directly below mine and knocked lightly on the door. “It’s me.”

“It's unlocked!” Her aged voice rang through the door.

I opened the door and entered the elderly woman’s container. “Hey there, dearie. You- you okay?”

“Y-yeah…” I looked down at my limbs. I was shaking. Not just a little bit, but like, a lot. The caffeine, or whatever the synthetic chemical is these days, mixed with driving and my nerves about talking to Granny Smith had turned my body into a ball of stress.

The elderly woman looked at me with a suspicious gaze. “If you say so… I do have Narcan if you need it.”

“What? No- sorry. It’s just caffeine.” I ran a hand across the back of my head. “I uh- I’ve b-been looking into Edward’s disappearance.”

She patted the seat. “Come, take a seat.”

I took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. Telling someone their loved ones were deceased was incredibly difficult. Or so I’ve been told. I’ve never had to do it. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I didn’t have to do this. Thinking back, she had just been talking about Edward, and I had jumped on to investigate it after getting the message from the interface.

I started to speak, forcing myself to say it slowly. “I-I’m sorry-”

She nodded before I could say anything more. A flash of sorrow went through her face, and her complexion collapsed slightly before the normal look returned. “It’s alright, dearie… I knew when he didn’t contact me that something was up… how did it happen?”

“I- I’m not sure how much I can say. The official report should come out in a week or so, as should his remains… he was among over a hundred soldiers I found.”

“At least he died amongst brothers… Thank you for giving this old woman some closure. I-” She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment before meeting my gaze. “Thank you.”

She stood up and moved behind the counter of her kitchen. A sound I recognized as the dial of a safe ticked just under the sounds of her TV. Speaking of sounds, off in the distance came a racket of gunshots and cacophonous booms, drowning out any chance of hearing the rest of her code. She glanced up but otherwise didn't react to the sounds. Such things weren't uncommon. Granny Smith stood up, holding what looked to be a glove in her hand.

“I know you don’t want money from me, but at least take this for your efforts, dearie. It's not much, but it was incredibly helpful back when I was active. It's just collecting dust now.” She handed over the glove before I could reject her.

The glove unraveled in my hand, revealing its form. It had a bunch of complicated-looking circuitry around the palm. In the palm of the glove sat three silver balls linked together by a metal cord just slightly bigger than a microwire. It took me a second to realize it was a bola. And not just a simple one based on the circuitry.

“I know you work on the more dangerous side of town with the Fangs, so this might help you. It's called an Electro-bola. After it wraps someone, you can make it administer shocks to keep them… compliant.” She shrugged. “You don’t have to use it, but please take it.”

I stared down at the thing. Electro-bola, huh? I’ve never heard of one, but then again I’m not much involved in the weapon side of things. Was it even a weapon in the first place? Or did such a thing count as a gadget rather than a weapon? Tazers count as weapons, so maybe?

I thought about refusing before looking up into the sincerity of her eyes for a moment. Her heart was in her eyes, making it nearly impossible to refuse. “Thank you.”

We talked a bit more before I returned to my container with the new toy and weapons in tow. Much to my dismay, my PA sent a call to my HUD just as I opened my door: Iris.

I stared at my mattress as a bad feeling washed over me, one completely unrelated to Insight. “Hello?”

“Ah, beanstalk! I’ve got a gig for you- a real simple one.” Iris’s voice cut through my commlink. I could hear idle chatter in the background.

“Okay. I’m super tired and just got home, so when do you-”

“Right now! I just need you to look at a couple of pictures, and tell me if anything stands out. Five hundred Rrayn if you can get a solid clue!”

I’ve already been going for nearly a day straight… but it was five hundred Rayn for just looking at a picture… I could maybe just pop over and check it out? “Fine, fine… where at?”

“Rime’s Peak Lounge. Over by Portside. Ya’ can’t miss it. Oh, and tell the guards at the door Polar Moon asked for you and they’ll let you in.” She became quieter as if her head was directed elsewhere. “Told you I had a person.” Then her voice picked up. “Cya in a bit, choom!”

I tossed my gear down and looked through my closet. Unfortunately, the oversized clothes from Mira were the nicest ones in my possession other than the techwear, but they weren’t dry yet. I would be a bit underdressed… It should be fine. It's not like I was headed to some high-end convention; I was just going to look at some pictures at a lounge.

I summoned Crow’s Canteen of Chaos from the shadows. It took a day to refill completely, but there was already about twenty-fourth of the thing full of the energy drink. The inside of the canteen was deceptively large - to the point I suspected some kind of space warping - so it ended up being quite a lot. I chugged down the contents as I checked myself over.

Rime’s Peak Lounge… sounded familiar, for some reason. Anyway, I was just going to look at a picture, how much trouble could this be?

As it turns out, it could be trouble, and a substantial amount at that. Maybe because Iris was… well, Iris, one important fact slipped my mind. She was an Edgerunner. As such, it shouldn’t have been that big of a surprise that Rime’s Peak Lounge was only the most popular and established lounge in the entirety of Aythryn City.

Seriously. It was the type of place that not even corpo execs could get into on a whim. It was where dignitaries, nomad heads, and FSA generals could all be sitting within ten feet of each other and having a drink. It was the type of place that catered to the uber-powerful and rich. To put it simply, I was fucked.

Rime Peak Lounge sat on the furthest out border between Downtown’s Corporate Quarter and Portside. It was the tallest building around, only dwarfed by the Big 7’s buildings. And, in my opinion, it was far prettier.

The thing was a marvelous work of art, the likes of which straight up looked alien in the grim and overbearing nature of the city. The first dozen floors looked like a giant iceberg made of light gray stone, holograms, and blue neon. And not advertising neon and holograms- no, neon and holograms just for aesthetic purposes.

The gray undertones of the first several stories helped prop up the rest of the lounge. Literally. Great chains anchored into the stone iceberg arced up, ‘chaining’ down a massive white iceberg. Although I couldn’t see them, I read that there were machines up there that produced real snow and ice. The entire thing glowed ethereally as if it was granted down by a higher power rather than built by human hands.

Of course, the security in the place was top-notch, potentially even higher than the Big 7s. Only those on the list were allowed in, and getting on the list was almost impossible for the common folk. You had to be someone to get in. Unless, of course, they were invited in as is my case. Even with that restriction, there were enough people to have a party going at all times inside the lounge.

There were thousands, if not tens of thousands of people out and about outside of Rime Peak Lounge. Although they couldn’t get in, the area within a block was the hottest spot for bars and lounges in the city. Legal-wise, at least. Ichiban was also a hot spot, but it tended to cater towards more… illicit services.

The place was popular. So popular the entire sub-district around it was called the Peaks. There was even a subculture of being around the lounge on the off chance of catching someone’s fancy and being invited in. This subculture is what leads to the throngs of people always out and about outside the tower in the eternal party. They were insane bastards with no respect for others-

That was an unbiased way of saying I had to park several blocks away thanks to not having proper clearance to even get on the road to the lounge, and the other streets being blocked off by the mass of partygoers. I was horribly out of my element on the long, and arduous, walk to the doors.

Halfway there, it started to snow. Not natural snow, mind you. The Rime Peak Lounge covered the entire area around it in a light blanket of snow, selling the aesthetic even more. Although it was over the top, I had to admit it was pretty cool.

Long lines sat at each door, full of people hoping to get in even if it was in vain. I bypassed the line, getting hundreds of glares and stares from the people out and about. Music boomed loud enough to blow an eardrum, seemingly coming from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. It was as if the entire area around here was one massive nightclub, even if it was around noon.

I got stopped a ways from the door, as did a hundred or so other people who were trying to get in. The guards of Rime Peak Lounge fit the aesthetic to a tee. They all had Chemskin, so their skin was a pale icy blue. They also all had Techair pulsating with a smooth pulse of snow and frost. The guards all wore elaborate armor designed to look as if ice had been molded to their bodies and then frozen into hues of silver and deep blue.

A man stopped me, wearing the same look as the rest of the guards. Even his voice was modulated to sound as cool as possible. “Name?”

“Uh, Polar Moon i-invited me,” I said, failing to suppress the nervousness in my voice. I was horribly out of my element, and acutely aware of the gazes I got. Like I said, I didn’t fit in at all. Compared to the elaborate suits and costumes, I looked as if I just got out of bed. How I wish that were true.

The man arched a perfectly sculpted brow, and his eyes glowed a brilliant aurora blue. “Hmm… Miss Shiro?”

“Y-yes, that’s me.” Real smooth Shiro! Just keep stuttering your way through; it really shows confidence. C’mon, just pretend like this is just another heist. Fake it till you make it, and no one should question you.

“A moment.” The guard’s eyes glowed again, and a man in an elaborate silver suit approached. A servant by the looks of it, though he could've just as well been a guard. He had the ferocity of a combat veteran and filled in the suit perfectly. “Escort Miss Shiro here to Polar Moon. Floor one forty-three, room seventeen."

It was kind of weird that they weren't searching me. I figured this would be the kind of place where you have to leave your weapons by the door. Hmm... maybe they were just that confident in their security forces? Or was there something else in the works? Either way, neither of the men seemed to care about my gun poking just slightly out, and it wasn't related to my skill in concealment.

“Right this way, Miss Shiro.” Whereas the guard’s voice was icy, the servant’s was smooth like flowing water as he held a guiding hand to the door. The door into one of the most sought-after locations in Aythryn City by influencers and those that cared about their ‘popularity’.

What have you gotten yourself into, Shiro?