Chapter 8: Accident

In Night City, you never know whether accident or tomorrow will arrive first.

Westbrook, Night City's most famous gold-swallowing pit. Unlike the City Center, dominated by Neo-Militarism, looking down from above and aggressively aggressive, in Westbrook, Neo-Kitsch is the mainstream; as long as you have money in your pocket, it welcomes people from any class without refusal.

The wealthy with millions around their waists squander money here; the numerous casinos and illegal brothels of Japan Street, the luxury villa district of North Oak, like a spiderweb blocking out the sky, trap unimaginable vast wealth.

The middle class longs to have a place in the apartment buildings of Charter Hill, even if this requires them to drain themselves in the workplace year after year without hesitation.

The poorest people in Night City also get drunk on the fake gold-and-silk revelry of Westbrook, fantasizing that they can turn the tables in the casinos of Japan Street with the last Euro on their bodies, dreaming of getting rich through prostitution.

The prosperity and madness of Westbrook are a microcosm of the entire Night City; heaven and hell converge here on earth, giving birth to a terrible, ferocious monster.

Hitata Castedei now only wants to flip the middle finger at this monster, then shove the muzzle of the Dynamite Pistol deep into its *ass.

"F***, the Tiger Claws have gone mad!" Hitata had just stepped out of the ripperdoc's workshop when she was nearly blown away by stray bullets; thanks to Yahweh's timely warning, she narrowly escaped death.

The Tiger Claws are the largest violent gang roaming Japan Street in the Westbrook district; their insignia is various glowing Japanese demons tattooed onto implanted high-sim durability skin. Compared to firearms, these perverted madmen are more intoxicated by the bloody thrill of cutting flesh and skin with their own hands using swords and knives. They love riding motorcycles at extreme speeds on highways dense with traffic, pursuing the ultimate enjoyment of massive adrenaline secretion between life and death; it can be said that sixty percent of traffic accidents in Night City are caused by these idiots illegally racing everywhere.

Violence, cruelty, madness—these are the Tiger Claws' base colors, truly like evil ghosts from hell, making people loathe them.

Unfortunately, today they ran into an iron plate and provoked a ruthless opponent they absolutely should not have provoked.

For the first time, Yahweh felt such a strong human emotion; he felt his whole body seemed to be burning, a feeling never before experienced erupting from the bottom of his heart.

A stray bullet flew past Hitata Castedei's hair tips; before this, he had never imagined the situation of losing her.

"Hey... Yahweh, are you okay?" Hitata pulled her hand out to wipe the sweat from her forehead; a female Mercenary who had struggled in Night City for several months was not so sensitive about nearly dying, but Yahweh's situation seemed not good; his illusory figure was shaking violently.

"I'm fine, Hitata..." Yahweh used biological scans to check back and forth hundreds of times, confirming Hitata was completely unharmed, but his anger had not diminished in the slightest.

"Close your eyes, Hitata..." He leaned close to Hitata's ear, covering her newly installed Optical Camo Type 2 with both hands.

He also closed his eyes, and thus true hell descended.

Dozens of Tiger Claws gang members who were exchanging fire with someone suddenly stopped moving.

Their limbs would not obey; the implanted cybernetics, skin and flesh alike, automatically detached; unimaginable immense pain was enough to destroy anyone's sanity, yet they could only open their mouths in vain, emitting a wail inaudible to anyone from the depths of their souls; they consciously felt themselves walking step by step toward death. Finally, leaving their mangled corpses, they humbly knelt on the ground in submission.

The battle suddenly stopped because one side had been completely wiped out.

"What's wrong, Yahweh?" Hitata obediently kept her eyes closed, feeling the surroundings suddenly go quiet; she was somewhat worried whether something had happened to Yahweh; could the newly installed Quadra-Trans Ripple Type 3 Net-Access Deck be incompatible and have caused an effect on him?

"I'm fine, Hitata," Yahweh simply cleaned up the scene to avoid causing her psychological trauma, "you can open your eyes now."

"F***!" As soon as Hitata opened her eyes, she was shocked by dozens of corpses burned almost unrecognizable, "what just happened, how did they all become charcoal?"

Yahweh thought for a few seconds, "I controlled one of the guys; I didn't expect he happened to have a incendiary grenade hidden in his crotch, so it just..."

Hitata rolled her eyes wordlessly at him; he couldn't even lie properly; in the future, when he becomes human and falls in love, won't he be eaten clean by bad women?

"Luckily I'm a good woman," she said with a smile, patting her own shoulder, and did not press further.

Hitata Castedei is just such an unpredictable woman.

Yahweh was completely confused and did not continue to dwell on Hitata's peculiar train of thought; "there are two people ahead, one man and one woman, not from the Tiger Claws," he warned in a low voice.

"Diosmío! (Spanish: My God), truly saved!" A burly man with typical Valentinos gang attire walked over from not far away, "my name is Jack, Jack Wells, miss, thank you for saving me."

Hitata politely shook hands briefly with Jack Wells, curiously examining the handsome short-haired woman beside Jack.

"My name is V," the short-haired woman introduced herself concisely.

Yahweh scanned the two back and forth, confirming no threat, only then did he breathe a sigh of relief. Hitata, however, casually started talking with the two.

V and Jack had only known each other recently. As a Company employee who had just joined the Arasaka Corporation, V happened to encounter gang members fighting on the street on her way home one day, nearly getting caught in the crossfire; fortunately, the warm-hearted Jack Wells had just finished a mission, saw injustice and acted, saving her.

Back and forth, the two became quite familiar. Today, to celebrate V successfully passing the Arasaka Counter-Intelligence Division's screening, Jack planned to take V to Japan Street to drink sake together; as a result, his beloved motorcycle was targeted by the Tiger Claws, and they started fighting without a word.

"Since that's the case, why don't we all go to Afterlife together? I know Rogue well," Hitata became lively again, smilingly bragging about herself.

"Sinproblemas (Spanish: No problem)," Jack nodded, giving a thumbs up, "with your skills, miss, you'll definitely be famous in Afterlife too."

"Good!" V also nodded to show agreement, "take my car," she pointed to the Thorton Mackinaw parked not far away—Kitsch style, modern color scheme, fine workmanship, high-quality materials.

Hitata silently clicked her tongue; no wonder a senior employee of a top Company; just the ride is who knows how much higher than hers.

Yahweh silently watched Hitata's profile, shaking his head slightly. He did not intend to hide his strength from Hitata; he just did not want her to feel burdened.

"This is good enough now," he thought, getting into the car with V and Jack, sitting in the back seat with Hitata.

"Yahweh..." Hitata turned her head to look at his profile, her left hand open and resting on the seat.

Yahweh smiled silently, in perfect understanding, placing his right hand on top of hers, letting their hands overlap.