With the help of Jackie and V, Yogan managed to tidy up his room.
Now the three of them—Jackie, Yogan, and V—sat on the balcony, each with a bottle of beer in hand.
Jackie asked, "So, buddy, figured out what you wanna do next?"
Yogan shook his head. For undocumented newcomers like him trying to chase their dreams in Night City, it was hard to find a decent job.
Not to mention the sky-high recruitment standards of the major corporations. Local small businesses in Night City, when they needed help, preferred hiring people they were familiar with—locals. Not strangers like him whose background they couldn't verify.
The jobs that didn't require much—ones where you could walk in and start immediately—were usually traps set by Scavengers.
Even the factory owners didn't want to hire people like him. As single men with no family to feed, they could quit anytime and vanish without a trace. What the factory owners really wanted were those with families to support—people who couldn't just up and leave.
Jackie offered, "Why don't you come work at the Wild Wolf Bar with me tonight? My mom's been saying we need an extra hand anyway."
"Thanks, Jackie."
V chimed in, "Wait, Jackie—the Wild Wolf Bar pays weekly, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Well, how's Yogan gonna get by for the first week? You guys just bought a bunch of new stuff—bedding, clothes, all top-shelf stuff from the supermarket. That can't be cheap."
"That's not a problem. I'll talk to my mom and see if she can give him an advance on his first week's pay."
Yogan had another idea in mind.
"Jackie, does Mrs. Wells only need help in the evenings?"
"Pretty much. The shift's from around five in the afternoon to midnight. You know how bars are—people only start drinking when it's dark."
"Then V, you got any jobs during the day that need extra hands?"
"There are a few delivery gigs. Why? Don't tell me you're thinking of…"
"I was thinking I could work at the bar in the evenings, and help you out during the day. Gotta earn some quick cash."
Jackie's eyes widened. "Damn, man. Think this through. V's gigs can mean waking up at the crack of dawn—sometimes even heading out at two or three in the morning."
Yogan gave a helpless shrug. "I know, but things are pretty tight right now. Just until I get on my feet."
"Alright, just be careful, man. If things get rough, say something. Your health comes first. If you burn yourself out, the medical bills will cost more than anything you earn."
"Thanks, Jackie."
"Don't mention it. We're bros."
The three of them sat on the balcony, drinking and enjoying one of those rare moments of peace in Night City. That is, if you ignored the glaring neon signs, the screeching street racers, the distant sound of gunfire and sirens, and the weirdos blasting music and dancing in the streets.
V drained the last of her beer and stood up. "It's getting late. Yogan, we've got a gig tomorrow morning out in the Badlands. We should get some rest. Jackie, wanna crash here tonight?"
"Nah, chica. Gotta head back and spend some time with my mom. You two have a good night."
---
The Next Morning
The sun was just beginning to rise. Yogan and V were in a car, heading toward the Night City border checkpoint.
"V, I thought your car got jacked back on Crescent Street."
"I had insurance. But damn it, my premium's going up next year."
Thanks to climate change and environmental degradation, the area surrounding Night City was desolate. All around them was yellow sand and derelict buildings, long abandoned and left to rot.
"This place looks like a wasteland," Yogan remarked.
"You're lucky you haven't seen one of the dust storms that roll in from the Badlands. When the wind picks up, the whole city turns yellow. You can't even tell if it's a car or a person coming toward you. Every breath you take feels like you're inhaling a bag of sand."
"Don't the corporations do anything about it?"
"Corporations? Their offices are fitted with air purifiers. The execs, the real high-rollers, just hole up in their luxury villas in North Alley when the storms hit. The only ones who suffer are the poor bastards out on the street trying to scrape by."
She paused, looking out at the wasteland.
"Most of the Badlands were ruined by the corps themselves. Take this area we're driving through. It used to be green once. Then Biotech came in and bought the land to grow their genetically modified wheat—used for making CHOOH2. That's the stuff we're burning in this car right now."
"After a while, the soil got exhausted. They had to pour in more and more chemicals to keep things growing. Eventually, it wasn't worth it anymore, so they just abandoned the land. But after all that crap they pumped into the earth, nothing grows here anymore. Now all that's left is sand."
"The towns that used to be here? Gone. People with connections moved to other cities. The rest? They either ended up in Night City or became nomads."
"Corporations are like locusts. They strip a place clean of anything valuable, then just leave."
V was clearly bitter about the corporations, venting her thoughts all the way.
After a while, Yogan asked, "How much farther to the rendezvous point?"
"Not far. Once we get past the next checkpoint, we'll see a village up ahead. That's where we're supposed to make the pickup."
"You know what we're delivering? Kinda feels shady to have the drop-off point outside the city."
"The fixer didn't tell me much. But judging by how little they're paying, it probably isn't anything too dangerous."
As they chatted, the car passed through the border checkpoint. Now they were officially out of Night City's jurisdiction and heading deeper into the Badlands.
---
"This 'village' is a dump," Yogan muttered as he looked out at the cluster of buildings in front of them.
The layout was simple: a straight road running through the center, with rundown shops flanking either side. Most of the signs were missing letters or completely illegible. The few that were still intact didn't make any sense. And the buildings? Some didn't even have signs—just open doors with people moving in and out. Who knew if they were stores or just homes.
V pulled over. "Should be that one up ahead."
"You sure? The fixer said we're looking for a repair shop, but there's no sign."
"There's a pile of broken-down cars out front. If that's not a repair shop, it's gotta be a junkyard."
Yogan eyed the rusty, half-dismantled vehicles with suspicion. "Looks more like a scrap heap to me."
"Come on," V said. "Let's see what all those people are doing crowding around the place."
--