Lena and Valerie returned to the Galena with the weapons and ammunition they had recovered.
Valerie carried the Nekomata across her back.
The long Tech rifle looked almost oversized against her frame, but she handled its weight without complaint.
Jackie kept the engine idling while they approached.
His eyes settled on the rifle, and he let out an impressed whistle.
“Looks like you two found something valuable.”
“Valuable, my ass.”
Valerie pulled the rear door open and placed the Nekomata carefully across the back seat.
“Those Arasaka agents were practically broke.
We found a few standard pistols, some ammunition, and this rifle.
Most of their cyberware was destroyed beyond repair.”
Jackie glanced at the Nekomata.
“That rifle alone is worth plenty.”
“It nearly killed Lena,” Valerie replied as she climbed inside.
“Taking it was the least we could do.”
Lena lowered herself into the passenger seat.
The coagulant had reduced the bleeding, but every movement sent a dull wave of pain through her left shoulder.
Half her clothing remained dark with blood, and even the slightest pressure against the seat made her jaw tighten.
She looked toward Jackie.
“Do you know a reliable ripperdoc?”
Jackie grinned.
“Chica, you’re asking the right man.
I know one of the best.”
He shifted the Galena into gear.
“Name’s Viktor Vektor, though everyone calls him Vik.
Used to be a boxer before he became a ripperdoc.
Good hands, better heart.
His clinic is right behind Misty’s Esoterica.”
Jackie’s grin became noticeably warmer.
“Misty’s the woman I’m seeing.
Well… I’m working on making it official.”
Valerie rolled her eyes from the back seat.
“How long have you been ‘working on it’?”
“That isn’t important.”
Jackie rubbed his nose awkwardly.
“What matters is the connection.”
“Meaning she still hasn’t agreed.”
“She hasn’t said no.”
“She probably has.
You just weren’t listening.”
Lena couldn’t help smiling as they argued.
Viktor Vektor and Misty Olszewski.
Neither name was unfamiliar to her.
In a city where betrayal was often more profitable than loyalty, both of them were rare exceptions.
Viktor possessed the skill to charge enormous prices, yet he never exploited desperate patients.
He treated mercenaries who couldn’t afford premium clinics and sometimes allowed trusted clients to pay later.
Misty was gentler still.
She ran a small spiritual shop filled with tarot cards, incense, and crystals—things most people in Night City dismissed as superstition.
Beneath that quiet exterior was one of the strongest and most compassionate people Lena remembered from the game.
Misty cared about V as a person, not as a mercenary or a legend.
Even in the bleakest possible future, when V could no longer use combat cyberware and had lost almost everything that once made her powerful, Misty never treated her as worthless.
She offered simple advice: stay away from dangerous alleys, run when the shooting started, and learn how to live as an ordinary person.
Lena glanced back at Valerie.
This world didn’t have to follow the same path.
Events could change.
Lives could be saved.
Lena had no intention of allowing every old tragedy to repeat itself.
The Galena passed beneath the lights of Night City.
The transition from the Badlands was overwhelming.
Skyscrapers rose like enormous walls around them, their upper floors vanishing into clouds and industrial haze.
Holographic advertisements floated between buildings, projecting models, products, and corporate slogans across the night.
Neon signs painted the streets in constantly changing shades of blue, red, violet, and green.
Crowds filled the sidewalks.
A man sat beside the road repairing his artificial arm with a handheld tool, while two others conducted a hurried exchange beneath a flickering sign.
Joytoys called to passing pedestrians, food vendors shouted over one another, and armed gang members watched the traffic from street corners.
Engines roared.
Advertisements blared from overhead screens.
Somewhere nearby, two people argued loudly enough to be heard through the Galena’s windows.
Night City was noisy, crowded, and alive.
Lena stared through the passenger window, watching neon reflections slide across the glass.
“How does it feel?” Jackie asked.
“First time in Night City?”
“Sort of.”
Lena smiled without taking her eyes off the streets.
“I’ve heard plenty about it, but seeing it for myself is different.
It’s even more excessive than I imagined.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Jackie sounded proud.
“Everyone feels lost when they first arrive.
After a while, you realize that even if the city’s rotten, it still has something special.”
Valerie leaned back and watched the buildings pass.
“At least it’s more interesting than staring at sand.”
“Exactly.”
Jackie patted the steering wheel.
“Welcome to Night City.”
They drove through several crowded streets before entering Little China in Watson.
The buildings here were older, their concrete walls covered with pipes, electrical cables, signs, and decades of grime.
Jackie finally stopped the Galena near a familiar storefront.
Lena looked up at the illuminated sign.
MISTY’S ESOTERICA
“We’re here,” Jackie said.
“Vik’s clinic is downstairs.
Get Lena’s shoulder treated before it gets worse.”
Valerie climbed out and moved immediately to the passenger side.
“Come on.”
She supported Lena as she stepped onto the pavement.
“Don’t try acting tough.”
“I can still walk.”
“You also said you were fine with a hole in your shoulder.”
“I said I was alive.”
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Jackie came around the Galena and locked it.
The Arasaka container remained secured inside, while the Nekomata was covered beneath a sheet on the back seat.
The three entered the shop.
Warm, dim light greeted them.
Misty’s Esoterica felt completely removed from the chaos outside.
Crystals, candles, books, charms, and tarot decks covered the shelves and tables.
Incense added a faint fragrance to the air, masking the smell of exhaust drifting in from the street.
A young woman sat behind the counter arranging tarot cards.
She looked up at the sound of the door.
“Jackie?”
Her pale hair fell around a face framed by dark makeup.
The heavy shadow around her eyes gave her a mysterious appearance, but her expression was immediately gentle.
“Misty.”
Jackie’s entire demeanor brightened.
“Got some people I want you to meet.”
He gestured toward the two women.
“This is Lena Hale, and the angry one holding her up is Valerie.
They’re my new friends.”
“I’m not angry,” Valerie said.
“You threatened to shoot me twenty minutes ago.”
“You deserved it.”
Misty smiled.
“Nice to meet you both.
I’m Misty.”
Her attention quickly shifted to Lena’s bloodstained shoulder.
The smile disappeared.
“You’re hurt.”
Misty stepped out from behind the counter.
“That doesn’t look minor.”
“It passed through without destroying the joint.
I’ve already used coagulant.”
Misty looked toward the rear entrance leading to the stairs.
“Vik should examine it immediately.”
“Exactly why we came,” Jackie said.
Valerie adjusted Lena’s arm across her shoulders.
“We’re going downstairs.”
Jackie lingered beside the counter.
“I’ll stay here for a couple of minutes, then come find you.”
Lena noticed the way he looked at Misty.
“Take your time.”
Valerie helped her toward the stairs.
As they disappeared into the clinic below, Misty returned to the tarot cards on the counter.
The shop became quiet.
Jackie leaned against the counter, staring toward the stairway.
“Those two aren’t like the people you usually work with,” Misty said.
Jackie looked at her.
“Is this one of your readings?”
“It isn’t divination.”
Misty placed one card carefully beside another.
“It’s a feeling.”
Jackie rubbed his chin.
He couldn’t entirely disagree.
From the border checkpoint to the Arasaka ambush, Lena had acted with a level of calm that didn’t belong to a rookie.
She had anticipated the betrayal before anyone else and taken command the moment the shooting began.
More importantly, she had never considered abandoning him.
Valerie was different—direct, sharp-tempered, and fiercely protective.
She treated Lena like family, and that bond extended to anyone they accepted as one of their own.
Jackie hadn’t felt that kind of trust in a long time.
Misty glanced toward the stairs.
“Do they remind you of your past?”
“My past?”
“The Valentinos.”
Jackie fell silent.
The Valentinos had once been his family.
They had given him people to drink with, fight beside, and call brothers.
But belonging to a gang came with chains.
The Valentinos could give him a name and a place on the street, but they also decided which orders he followed and which enemies he made.
Refusal wasn’t an option.
That was why he had left.
He wanted to choose his own work, his own future, and the people he would risk his life beside.
“Misty,” he said after a moment, “what would you think if I teamed up with them?”
Misty looked at him calmly.
“You’ve already decided.”
Jackie smiled.
She knew him too well.
Lena and Valerie needed someone familiar with Night City—someone who understood its fixers, gangs, streets, and unwritten rules.
Jackie needed partners he could trust when bullets started flying.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“I want to work with them.”
Misty’s expression softened.
“Then do it.”
She reached across the counter and touched his hand.
“But don’t think only about becoming a legend, Jackie.”
Her voice was gentle, yet the words carried unmistakable weight.
“Think about surviving with your friends.”
Jackie looked toward the clinic stairs.
Then he placed his free hand over Misty’s.
“Don’t worry.
I’m Jackie Welles, born and raised in Heywood.”
His familiar grin returned.
“I take care of my people.”