FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Night City, a city of lights, neon, and the dream of limitless wealth. Where corporate power reigns supreme, and the wealthy elite revel in their luxury. Where the poor and downtrodden struggle to make ends meet, living in ramshackle buildings and struggling to feed their children. Where the gangs are the law, and violence is a way of life. Where the night belongs to the gangs, and the streets come alive with a cacophony of sound and color.

Night City is an enigmatic place, a reflection of the dreams and ambitions of its inhabitants. The vibrant neon lights burn bright against the darkened skies, welcoming visitors from across the globe.

It is said that light is power, and in Night City, this holds true. Powerful corporations control the city's economy, while street gangs dominate the streets. Visitors to the city are drawn to Night City's opulence, yet they remain aware of the risks. Threats lurk in the shadows, hiding behind the gleaming neon signs.

Each sign represents a different corporation, each one seeking to gain control over the city. The corporations are ruthless, willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. They will stop at nothing to ensure their dominance, even if it means destroying those who stand in their way.

Each sign is a lure, a trap designed to ensnare the unwary. Each is a beacon, drawing the gaze of passersby. Each is a temptation, enticing those who are drawn to the false light.

The night skyline is a testament to Night City's power, a reflection of the corporate might that rules the city. The lights full of advertisements tower into the sky, piercing the heavens. Their gleaming neon lights illuminate the city below, serving as a beacon of corporate greed.

In the far distance, a light streaks across the sky. An object, hurtling towards Earth. The skies above Night City were cloudy that night, yet no rain fell. There was no thunder or lightning. The light was an omen, a warning of the impending impact.

The light illuminated the city for the briefest of moments, overpowering the neon's and the bright streetlights, before disappearing in a flash. It was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

As the light faded away, the world was left in darkness. A briefest of silence descended upon the city. No sound could be heard, no noise, no screams. It was as if time had stopped.

No sooner did Night City resume its normal pace, to them it was a phenomenon that had occurred without any explanation. To them, the light was nothing more than a flicker. A brief, transitory event, passing like a ghost through the night sky. A mystery that would be lost to history.

The light was soon forgotten, the world moving on with its day-to-day activities. The events of the past few seconds were already being written off as a strange occurrence, a random glitch in the universe.

Time would tell, but no one knew that the impact was the first sign of a much bigger event. An event that would change the world, and change the future of humanity.

***

"Hi, my name is Kevin."

Derik looked up from his tablet and gazed at the weirdest fuckin' looking borg he'd ever seen in his life. He was no slouch when it came to seeing oddities, having spent his time as border security, but this one took the cake.

A weird hybrid of animal and machine. He wasn't sure whether there was anything human behind all those cybernetics, or if it was just a robot or cyborg pretending to be a borg. It was difficult to say, but he felt he was dealing with something different than he had ever encountered… something new… something exotic. Something potentially hazardous. Despite his doubts, he was pulled to it, captivated by its beauty and one-of-a-kind design.

Was this a new trend that was happening more often in Night City these days?

"I need to find out if you can get me access to the city. Is there any way to do that?" Derik can see the lights in its visor moving from each syllable he speaks, almost as if it were computing his words. Its voice had an electronic tinge to it, almost like a synthesized voice, but it still carried a sense of intelligence and complexity.

"Oh uh, yeah I can help you with that." Derik isn't sure why he was so taken aback by the creature's appearance, but something about it just seemed off, like he was looking at something that shouldn't have been there. "You got any papers?" He asks, trying to shake the strange feeling he was getting.

The cybernetic Borg looks at him with those glowing red eyes and tilts its head slightly, as if analyzing him. "Papers?"

"Yeah, like an ID card or a permit or something?" Derik realizes that this thing might not know what papers were. It wasn't common for most denizens to need ID cards or permits, as the world's internet and smart phones allowed them to access most things they needed without ever having to leave their home or work space.

These days, hard copies are becoming a requirement, a small cog of a bigger whole to clamp out illegal immigrants.

"Do you have any means of identification or verification?" It tilted its head slightly, as if it was considering his question. "I don't have anything." The Borg shrugs its shoulders and then shuffles towards the armless swivel chair across from Derik's desk. "Well, maybe we could pull up your IDs linked to your facial recognition system. But uh..." He put his hand in front of his face and made a circling motion.

The thing stopped at the chair and seemed to be considering Derik's question. It had been able to make an approximation of a face using its visor and mouth, but Derik wasn't sure if it actually had a face under there. He wondered how it moved or even breathed, but he decided to keep his questions to himself for the time being.

The Borg sat down as though on cue. It didn't seem to require the backrest because it didn't sit back and instead leaned forward, allowing its tail to dangle behind it. "I would appreciate it if you could do it."

"Alright, let's see if I can pull up your ID." Derik shifted on his chair and reached for his terminal at the far corner of his desk. He used his cybernetics to access the connection points on his cyberdeck, initiating a neural interface. The system lit up his eye, sending signals to his optical implant, which then opened up a neural link to the server. He could see his mind become one with the computer, allowing him to access all the information he needed, from the NUSA DataNet.

The first thing he found alarming was that his scanner reads nonexistent, the system was unable to create a handshake, which should have been impossible, even one cybernetic augmentation should at least have a record of its existence, customized or not.

The Arasaka Corporation has been known for its unwavering dedication to perfection. This can be seen in their commitment to ensuring that their cybernetic augmentations are highly functional and durable. As such, the state of the art technology used in Arasaka's products is not only reliable but also highly efficient and modular.

In terms of their security measures, Arasaka takes great care in designing their state of the art network security systems, ensuring that they are designed to thwart both human and mechanical attacks. Their encryption algorithms are sophisticated and advanced, capable of defeating even the most sophisticated Cyberware cracking tools.

And yet this guy somehow managed to elude our most advanced Scanaway in SolCal like it didn't exist, it is like he is shielded in a broadband signal jammer except none of my systems show any sign of interference.

He immediately became suspicious of what he was seeing, as this was clearly not a normal occurrence. He heard the thing shuffle slightly in its chair, and it was clear that the Borg was uncomfortable. It didn't seem like it wanted to be there or even have been asked to come. But here it was nonetheless, sitting across from him, waiting for something to happen. "Okay uh, I'm going to need the detes."

"Do you mean details? I can give you some if you require it."

"Yeah, that's what I meant." He gestured to the chair, as though the thing would understand. "Look, I'm saying that my system is reading nonexistent data, like I don't have access to any of your links or databases, if you have any ICE firewall active, please disable them for the process."

"I'm sorry, I do not know what you are talking about." The thing leaned forward slightly, putting a hand on its visor. It seemed to be considering his words carefully, as if trying to understand him. "I uh... Don't have any ICE active, what do you mean by "ice"?"

Derik gave it a look, 'The fuck fuck do you think?' type of look. 'Fuckin hell, I think this gonk is psycho', "ICE stands for intrusion countermeasures education. It prevents hackers from accessing your systems, and allows you to protect your information. Without access to ICE, you don't have any protection from cyber attacks, and your system can be compromised."

"Oh, right, sorry." Kevin leaned back in its chair and edged forward. It was silent for a while, and Derik couldn't tell if the silence was due to embarrassment or consideration of his statement, and honestly he didn't care.

He opened up a separate DataNet search engine on his terminal, using the neural link to connect with a different server. "Okay, let's try something else... Can you give me some info about yourself? What is your name again?"

"My name is Kevin."

"Well, that's uh... an interesting name Kevin. And what is your last name?" Derik turned to his terminal and typed in "Kevin" into the search bar. For a "Kevin" it certainly didn't look like one, it seemed like an odd choice of name, but it was worth a shot.

To no one's surprise, the terminal immediately responded with thousands of results with the same first name.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Kevin's 'face' showing a visual representation of embarrassment with the entire screen glowing in neon red. "I uh... don't have a last name..."

Derik turned his gaze on it, or rather him, again and he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Derik, the thing shuffled its feet. "What do you mean, you don't have a last name?" He furrowed his brows in confusion, curious about this strange development.

"I was... I was born without one." Kevin shrugged its shoulders and continued to avoid looking at him, the light on its face continuing to glow.

"You were what now?" 'Born without a last name?' He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of what was happening here. "Yeah, that uh, doesn't really happen much around here... Where did you come from?"

"I uh... don't know." Kevin tilted its head again, as if it were trying to figure out how to explain it. "I just... kind of... happened?"

"Well that sounds fascinating, I would love to hear more about it." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the situation. Honestly, he didn't really care about it at this point, he was more concerned with the fact that he had no idea who or what was sitting across from him, and he has no clue if this gonk is a security threat.

"...Really?" The thing seemed genuinely surprised by his response.

"No." Derik took a sip of re-caff from his cup that he sadly neglected, trying to hide the fact that he was becoming more unhappy with the situation. He did not regret blowing him off like that. This entire scenario was making him nervous, and he just wanted to get back to work and find some peace and quiet, he was reaching to the point where he probably should just kick him out of his office, quotas be damned.

"Oh..." Kevin seemed to slouch in its chair slightly, looking down at its lap. "...Okay." It seemed dejected now, as though it expected Derik to be more interested in its story.

"Well, it seems like there are many Kevins around. How about we try something different?" He typed into his systems for a while, and the screen in front of him showed a separate window for a different form of identification program with a list of different search terms that all related to Kevins. "Is there any specific way you want to be searched?"

"Um..." Kevin shuffled in its seat again, still looking down. "I uh, don't really know." It seemed to be considering his question carefully, as though it were weighing its options. "What do you mean by "specifically"?"

"Well, I could run an in-depth search on your background or history on our SolCal data records, which might help us smooth things out." He shrugged his shoulders and gestured towards his screen. "Or we could try another approach, such as searching for specific features or traits you may have."

"Okay, um...what about KV. 1-N." Kevin said, still avoiding eye contact. It seemed like it was distracted with something, as its face continued to show signs of embarrassment.

Derik raised an eyebrow, at its response, 'That sounds like a designation number rather than a name, but who knows, maybe it's just trying to be one of those Net pigs.' He typed the query into the search bar and pressed enter, allowing the system to pull up the results.

?The screen showed a brief profile for a young man named Kevin, a 23 year old, male born in the Free States, specifically in Nevada, Las Vegas. The information provided was sparse and largely irrelevant, as it only served to show that he lived at an apartment building near the Vegas Strip and was single, without any family members or close friends. Everything seems to check out but Derik has an inkling feeling that it was intentional, like he's being led along by someone's hand. After a few minutes of background checks he was satisfied with the information given.

?Kevin was evidently not a criminal, nor was there any evidence that indicated he was involved in any of the city gangs. He appeared to be normal, and nothing out of the ordinary stood out. He was probably just trying to get across the border, which was understandable. There wasn't anything more Derik needed to know, so it would be best if they kept their interaction short.

?Derik turned back to Kevin with a serious expression on its face. "Alright then, what is the duration of your stay sir?"

?Kevin looked up at Derik with a smile. "Ah, well...I am planning to stay here for a while. Maybe even permanently."

?Derik let out a small sigh, as though he had expected this answer. He made sure to look straight at Kevin when speaking, perhaps in an attempt to project some authority. "Now, before you say anything else, allow me to explain our policies regarding cross-border passage. We understand that your presence here does not pose a threat to the Free city, but we require that all foreigners pay an entry fee to enter Night City, as well as a temporary tax for the length of their stay. If you have no intention of leaving, I suggest you go ahead and pay these fees, otherwise you will be escorted out of my office."

?Kevin nodded and Derik can see the money going through the system's UI. The transaction was completed in less than a second.

?Derik gave a slight nod of approval, "We have everything we need." Derik tried to hide the fact that he was relieved that this was all over. "Thank you for your help, Kevin."

"You're welcome!" Kevin flashed a smile back, still looking a little embarrassed. "I hope that helped you with whatever it is you were working on."

"Yes, yes it did. Thank you for your time, I will update your local status and send up your information for clearance in our database" He typed into his terminal, marking the search result as a possible subject for future study, with a forced smile that he only displayed to people who didn't piss him off, he recited the traditional phrase to end the meeting.

"Your cooperation is appreciated, Welcome to Night City." Derik spoke the words mechanically, forcing himself to finish the phrase.

"Of course! No problem!" Kevin seemed to relax a bit after that, standing up from his chair he stretched out his legs and arms. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your time as well!" It flashed a bright smile as well as a emoji of a thumbs up, before walking out the automatic door, leaving Derik to finish his re-caff and work in peace.

Derik leaned back in his chair as he watched Kevin leave, thinking back to what they had discussed.

'Poor kid, the city's gonna eat him alive.'

The uncomfortable thoughts running through his head made him shiver as he sipped on his wake-up drink, his Kiroshi optics lingering on the door frame that Kevin had exited through. The search for KV 1-N seemed to be leading him on and for what reason remains unclear.

He didn't need to be a NetWatch agent to see that his profile was fabricated but it passed every check that he could think of. That shouldn't have been possible, even the best Voo-Doo Netrunner had at least a few inconsistencies that are eventually discovered but not this guy.

He tapped his fingers on the table in contemplation then turned back to his terminal and finished his filing. 'Eh, maybe later, I ain't paid enough to chase that rabbit.'

"Next!"

Three red beeps above the door turned on before the automated door opened again, this time revealing a man who looked to be decked out with Maelstrom themed cyberware and a huge scowl on his face.

'Great, back to business as usual in Night City.'

***

Kevin

Walking through the streets of Night City was quite the experience. The sights, sounds and smells assaulted my olfactory receptors like a hurricane, yet somehow I managed to keep myself together and not let it overwhelm me too much. There are so many different things going on here; neon lights flashing against buildings that look like something out of a horror movie, graphics screaming for attention across storefronts and billboards, all mixed in with the sound of cars racing down the road next to pedestrians chatting away as if nothing else existed in their vicinity.

I had to admit, a thrill of excitement went down my spine. The tall structures were intimidating and attractive, with elaborate decorations. The tall structures were attractive, with elaborate decorations that caught his eye.

There were even some banners promoting adult entertainment establishments that gave off an aura of danger and intrigue, luring passerby inside. This place was nothing like where I had come from. Everything suddenly felt more... intense. Even the individuals on the street were dressed differently. Most were dressed in synthetic leather or Kevlar and had body piercings, while others had cybernetic implants that glistened in the spotlights. Some of them walked bent over, as though defeated by existence itself. Some held themselves proudly, striding confidently. It was difficult to determine how old somebody was because human technology could do wonders with a person's biology.

It was a huge risk to expose myself to the larger world the way I appeared. After all, I'm not really a human being. Being the only Protogen on Earth didn't help matters either. Because of my appearance, I would most likely stick out like a sore thumb wherever I went. Yet, there was no point in hiding; I should accept it and see what happened. Maybe it'll help me overcome my fears? It would make more sense if people believed I spent too many credits on Exogenetic cybernetics rather than assuming I am an extraterrestrial.

But then again, it might not. My appearance drew glances and attention, but no one appeared to notice or care enough to say anything. I suppose they've seen worse than I have in their lifetimes. Because, after all, no one believes in aliens, do they? Yeah, I suppose you don't know unless someone tells you.

As I walked through the bustling streets of this future metropolis, I couldn't help but turn around and gaze up at the buildings, their tops adorned with holographic ads and other technical wonders. These enormous structures soaring over the rest of the terrain have a grand yet sinister feel about them. They nearly appeared to want to rule everything under them. Despite their size and majesty, they remained shrouded in mystery. My gaze went over the architectural elements, taking in the contours of the metal frames and the shining glass surfaces. It was lovely and fascinating, but also a little daunting.

Glancing at each individual I passed, I saw that the majority of them were dressed in attire that suited the Night City style. Their costumes weren't very flamboyant or excessive, yet they stood out from the throng owing to their individuality. Every single one of those folks was aware of who they were and the picture they portrayed. There were so many of them, each with their own stories and experiences. It would have been fascinating to learn more about them and to be a part of the community that surrounds them. I didn't know where to begin in the city because there were so many sights and things to see.

Walking even allowed me to scan each cybernetics component from each individual who passed by. Others were more intricate and well-designed, such as a woman going past with a basic pair of limbs and legs replacements. Some were nearly identical, but their sizes varied based on their bodily types. From slender and lithe to bulky and strong, tall and short, and every form and color conceivable, there is something for everyone. Each of them has a certain role.

As I think back on my life before arriving here, we didn't have much use for such diversity in fashion and aesthetics. We had no need to distinguish ourselves because we never interacted with other species, flaws of being a semi-gestalt hivemind. Suddenly I know how ridiculous that sounds. How could I have thought humans and Protogens were the same? What I mean is that if I saw a Protogen and a human going down the street, I would be more interested in the human. Why should I be interested in gazing at someone I know rather than someone fresh and unfamiliar to me?

But now, I'm starting to think that staring at them for too long would merely catch their attention, and not in a good way. As I realized how different I am from the others around me, I got self-conscious. My non-human anatomy was much more noticeable. So I reasoned that keeping my head down was the best option; maybe blending in with the crowd and avoiding drawing too much attention on my first day here was a bad idea after all.

I didn't need to access my sensor suite to know that people were staring at me and analyzing me. That simply makes me feel strange and out of place. I just wanted to blend in, to vanish into the crowd, but that wasn't going to happen. 'It's all part of being a Protogen,' I reasoned. 'No matter where you go, you're always an outlier.'

I came to a halt to take a big breath and try to relax. 'Just keep cool and focused; I came here to see the city, not to hide from people who had no idea who or what I was. I needed to take advantage of this chance to see everything the city has to offer.'

So I kept going, attempting to keep up with the flow of foot traffic. I gazed left and right, noting anything that caught my eye along the way. After a few minutes of strolling, I observed other buildings that appeared to be abandoned, with boarded up windows and doors wherever I looked. Closer scrutiny revealed that they were still occupied. I'm sure there are a lot of homeless people sleeping under mounds of clothes and blankets within these buildings. I couldn't help but think how many of them might be harmed if a fire broke out. I puzzled why those individuals didn't try to locate another, safer location. Perhaps it was simply a lack of resources. Perhaps the people had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do except dwell in filth.

I even saw a pair kissing near the corner of the block, their tongues locked together as their bodies writhed and trembled in delight. With long legs and huge breasts, the woman looked lovely. She wore a strapless gown that kept it from falling off her body. Her skin was a light purple tone, and her hair was beautiful and shiny. She was wearing a necklace with an unknown symbol and a blue energy bracelet. Her body featured metallic lines that indicated they were synthetic.

Her confidant was dressed in black, with a jacket covering his strong arms and a top exposing his tattoo-covered chest. His hair had a dark brown color. He could see the two of them becoming lost in the moment, losing themselves in their love for one other, as they kissed and moved against each other.

I couldn't help but stare, even though I knew it was impolite to do so when someone else was engaging in something private like that. But I didn't want to bother them because they seemed to be having a good time. Maybe, or maybe that's simply standard Night City behavior. Even though I've only been on Earth for a few months, I still haven't mastered human contact, especially since I spend half of my time wandering through what's allegedly known as the Badlands. Thus far, I've only encountered caravans and ruins, primarily inhabited by hostile individuals who don't seem to care about anything other than themselves.

The man grabbed the woman by her hips, pulling himself close to hers, pressing his pelvis firmly between her thighs. Then, he pulled back slowly before slamming forward again, pushing deeper into the woman. She let out a loud moan as she leaked fluids onto the pavement.

Why is she micturating all over him as they are kissing? Is this some type of mating ritual that I'm missing? It looked nasty, not that I'd ever advise them how to live their lives. I understand that there is no such thing as animal monogamy, but surely people can find a way to marry without having to take turns peeing on one other.

They seemed unconcerned about being watched, or perhaps they didn't care who saw them together. It was... fascinating to see someone express their feelings so openly. Nothing was concealed beneath the surface. There is no fear, wrath, jealousy, or humiliation. Nothing except happiness and yearning. They weren't attempting to hide anything, but rather were embracing every feeling as if they wanted everyone to see them.

Well good for them, I guess. If that's what makes you happy then go ahead. You should always follow your heart, even if it leads you down strange paths.

He watched the couple for a while longer before turning away from the scene and headed toward the bridge crossing from Santo Domingo to Heywood proper.

As soon as he crossed over, Kevin noticed the change. People were still milling around, but most of them were avoiding me. They walked quickly by and did not make eye contact, as if I were invisible. Some glanced up at him and gave quick glances away once they realized I could see them looking. Others simply ignored me altogether, staring straight through until we passed one another. This was different. These people weren't scared of him, but rather afraid of whatever I represented. What exactly am I supposed to represent?

'Maybe it's my clothes.' I wear clothing similar to what humans used to call jeans and t-shirts, along with a jacket made of duolayer microplate-mesh. I had this jacket around the same time I landed on Earth, and it fits almost perfectly but I had to ruin it a bit in order to fit my shoulder tri-wings through open slits. The material is flexible enough to allow movement but sturdy enough.

I don't look like much of a threat, do I?

I'm not even carrying any firearms, which might be a problem considering the amount of guns I've seen here. Maybe I should start arming myself? But I doubt I'd use a gun against anyone unless absolutely necessary. As much fun as shooting things seems to be, I prefer to avoid killing when possible.

Heck, even some of this city's law enforcement officers glaring at me as I passed them by, what the heck have I not done to upset them. Was there something that I missed for them to behave this way?

Another officer stared at him, one of the pair of cops stood outside a building across the street. One was talking on her radio, while the other looked at him then out towards the road, watching traffic move past. Both seemed to ignore Kevin as he approaches.

He stopped just short of their attention, trying to get a better view without being too obvious about it. Another group of officers gathered in front of an alley.

The area wasn't particularly busy. Most of the pedestrians who came this far south of Heywood tended to stay near the center of town, where all the shops and restaurants were located. There was no sign of trouble or violence anywhere else nearby. It didn't seem likely that anything serious would happen so close to the main thoroughfares, yet every cop within sight was focused solely on this small stretch of sidewalk.

'I wonder what's going on here? Is there some kind of emergency?'

There were about four of them, overseeing a crime scene. They were dressed in black tactical gear, with helmets covering their faces and carrying weapons. Their presence alone sent shivers down my spine. If a city gives this much equipment to its law enforcement personnel, then something really bad must have happened.

There was a body lying on the ground, a man with dark skin and a muscular build. His chest had been torn open in what appears to be in a rather gruesome manner, exposing his organs. A large pool of blood spread over the pavement beneath him. Exposed cybernetic implant cables snaked outwards, connecting the various parts of the deceased. A small swarm of insects was swarming around the implant, like a cloud of bees around a wound.

If I had eyes, I would probably have them widening now. The poor guy looks dead, but how could someone kill another human being so brutally? Even more disturbing than the fact that he's killed, is that he was still alive when whoever did this tore apart his insides. What sort of sick monster does that to another living creature?

The officers were taking photos of the body with their drone cameras, documenting every inch of the scene. One of them was examining the wound carefully, running a scanner along the surface of the ripped flesh. One of them in an identifiable black jacket with the letters NCPD on the back was kneeling down beside him, trying to get a better look at the murder scene.

Even from almost a half a block away, my audio sensor was able to eavesdrop on their conversation. The man in the jacket was questioning the other officers about the crime scene.

"We got a name for this one? Seems like a clear case of maiming."

"Looks like it, name is Johnny Boyega. He was a small-time Hustler in the city who specialized in info gathering, and worked independently. Guess he had some rivals he didn't want to settle things with, huh?"

"Great, another fucking Johnny. We're gonna need a bigger cemetery for just that name alone one day. Whatever, got the autopsy report here?"

"Yup, I just finished downloading it. Here ya go."

One of the officers handed the man in the jacket a tablet as they conversed.

"Yeah, seems like a pretty messy murder sir. Looks like the suspect went to town on not only Boyega's body but his cybernetic implants as well. There's a lot of blood and damage done. Unlucky bastard got flatlined in a blind spot so we won't be getting a playback," He continued reading in silence for a few minutes before raising his head up to speak again. "Ray, did you make a scan of his deck? Maybe the recording on his BD will shed light on this whole mess."

"Can't do, Sarge. His systems are fried, whatever that can be saved has been retrieved already. Forensics should be sending us anything that can be recoverable, ETA 1 hour, way too long for clean up. The NCPD will just have to wait it out."

***

?Officer Ray Devereaux

?NCPD Homicide Unit

I walked around the corpse for a minute, studying his face. It looked like he'd been beaten senseless then gutted while still conscious. Whoever did this knew exactly where to hit him; all of his cybernetics were either smashed out or all around the alleyway. I'm guessing he had a backup system somewhere else, because there wasn't any sign of his data storage devices. Not even a shard in his skull.

Sargent Douglas nodded and sighed. "Alright, make sure we got everything we can from the scene. Once all evidence is collected, call the disposal unit for clean up. We got work to do." He turned back to the body, staring intently at it as he spoke. "I'm starting to think that we're dealing with more than a simple murder here..."

Officer Davidson, my partner, nodded in agreement. "You think it's one of those Exotic Cyberpsychos? Those claw marks are iconic, especially in mutilated bodies like this. Don't know if you've seen them before, but they're really nasty."

He was right, I hadn't seen these marks anywhere yet, but I could guess why. This guy must have pissed someone off real bad to get flatlined so brutally. If he didn't get zeroed instantly, maybe some kind of cyberware would have protected him against an attack like this. But whoever killed him made it personal by using their Wulff Rx Saber Claws instead of putting the poor bastard down with their guns.

Officer Ramirez, the rookie that was partnered with Sarge, leaned over the body and took a closer look. She looked nervous, probably wondering how she ended up working homicide after her training period. "Freaks? Is that what they call those weird Cyberpsychosis victims? What makes them any different from regular psychos?"

Davidson chuckled. "Yeah, they've got a name for themselves. They're known as Freaks because of their Exogenetic cybernetics and enhancements, involves animals or fantasy being replacing their bodies. They're known for their extreme aesthetic tastes and eccentric behavior. They have become such a problem recently because Exotics are becoming a growing trend in this city and it is impossible to differentiate if any one of them is a psycho or not."

Sarge looked at Davidson, giving his thoughts more weight. "This case might be related to them somehow. The lack of blood trail, the damage done to the body, the claws marks... it all points to someone with a dark and twisted sense of humor."

"You think it was Werewolf? it definitely fits his M.O." said Officer Davidson.

Shit, even now I couldn't help but shutter at the mention of Werewolf. Reading his rap sheet just shows what kind of freak he was. It wasn't just the fact that Diego MacQuoid changed himself to look like a werewolf, it was also the way he acted.

MacQuoid was a typical Corpo turned cyberpsycho who enjoyed violence, rape and murder. He lives as an urban legend in Night City, his body transformed by bioengineering and his intellect boosted by cybernetic implants. That creature was the first exotic cyberpsycho known as "Freaks" who developed cyberpsychosis after receiving enhancement excessively. His transformations prompted him to become a boogeyman of the night, and he was notorious for outrunning MAXTAC enforcers due to his speed and agility.

Ramirez nodded slowly and shuddered a bit. "That sounds awful. I hope that they don't come to this neighborhood."

Douglas shrugged. "Not sure, but those Freaks are mostly in Pacifica and Santo Domingo. If the reports come back positive then the reason why he would be here is going to make the higher ups nervous. The most likely scenario would be that Boyega was caught up in something related to the Animals."

"Do you know what they're after?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly, but I'll keep my eyes open and report anything out of the ordinary. Just because whoever did this got the job done doesn't mean that the killer isn't lurking nearby. For now let's continue with the investigation until we hear from forensics."

***

Kevin

Well that was interesting to know, the crime scene was certainly gruesome.

I had seen enough death before in the Badlands so I'm not that worked up over a corpse; however, this one felt different than others I've encountered. Maybe it was how the body was mutilated or maybe it was because of who has done it. Either way, I feel like I should do some research on this guy. I should be looking at this like a puzzle, not as something horrifying. There was an opportunity here, a way for me to get on people's good side while getting information too.

But first, I need to surf the Internet, and in order to do so, I'll need to find a secure location where I can focus my core processes on this attempt.

So far, I've located numerous locations to stay in and around Night City, but none of them appear to be particularly secure. Maybe the most efficient way to get some sleep would be to find a studio and stay there. I don't have enough currency, which makes finding somewhere to live difficult. I do not trust the back alleys of Night City now that I know that Werewolf is lurking around.

Humans are rather attached to money as a means of trade and barter. The European Dollar is the only currency accepted by all businesses within Night City.

A security deposit appears to be the standard required upon completion of a rental contract. If I need to find a place to stay but don't have enough money, I may have to resort to generating money in my name by hacking into the banking system. The reason I couldn't do that is the same reason I wanted to locate a secure spot to hide—I am too vulnerable; perhaps someday I might get the opportunity to correct my flaw.

But that would just be a last resort, stealing money from other people just felt dirty to me.

In addition to finding a safe refuge, I need to establish a reliable source of money to sustain myself. Staying secluded in one spot is not a smart approach to engage with others if I want to create connections. My lack of social skills might be my ruin, preventing me from establishing friends or even finding a job. I need to focus on developing connections, learning to understand human emotions, and learning how to respond appropriately.

***

Jig-Jig Street is a typical Night City street. It features stores on both sides of the road and a lot of pedestrian traffic. The architecture of the buildings varies. Imposing constructions made of glass and steel that show no signs of aging stand next to dilapidated structures that appear more like ruins. Some areas appear spanking new, while others bear the wear and scars of bullet holes. The buildings were decorated with neon lights and Asian decorations hanging along the walls. Some of the establishments were... unique, including services like massage parlors, body modification facilities, and sex shops. This neighborhood had everything one could imagine, except a grocery store, but there were maybe one or two food carts or convenience stores in the area that I can see.

Just walking in this part of town was enough to make me feel embarrassed. Every single person I saw looked shady, suspicious, and revealing. Most people here showed more skin than they should, wearing short skirts, low necklines, tight jeans, and skimpy tops. They flaunted themselves shamelessly.

The music playing in the background seemed to suggest that these folks enjoyed getting down and dirty. I did not think it would take much convincing to get them to do just that. A few people walked around openly smoking narcotics and chemicals that were unhealthy to the body. There were also plenty of men who appeared to be selling these same substances. I felt uncomfortable being exposed to such behavior. I guess some of these characters are too used to living life in the fast lane. Maybe I am just a stickler when it comes to rules and regulations.

It took me a little over five minutes to navigate my way to the end of Jig-Jig Street to reach the place I was looking for. I approached the building's entryway without trepidation. "Tokyo Dreams" is an apartment high-rise which has a homey vibe about it. The door frame has some unusual labels, although they look to be custom manufactured. As soon as I went inside, an electronic lock detached from the wall and immediately unlocked.

The lobby was large, vacant, and a little run-down, but it was clean. Someone appears to have spent a significant amount of money cleaning all of the corners. The shiny white walls stood out against the dark gray carpet that covered the majority of the floor area. Several seats were placed throughout the space for customers to rest and wait for their appointments.

There was a small reception desk near the entrance where someone sat behind a counter. She was a small, petite woman sitting at the desk. She was wearing an intricately patterned kimono, which has been cut in a few places to reveal her cybernetically enhanced body. Her Cyberoptics were focused intently on me, watching my every movement. The colors of her hair are a deep red and black, which contrasts with the silver implants in her scalp and jaw. What stood out the most were the intricate triangle ears with metal plates lining the very end of the lobes poking through the top of her head, giving her an almost exotic demeanor. Her real ears were probably hidden underneath her long, straight hair.

Now that was interesting, she had the tail! It was thin and dangled between her legs. It looked real by how natural it moved back and forth. I wondered if this was something that came standard with the new breed of cybernetic enhancements? I wonder if it is synthetic or organic.

Now that I was only a few paces away from her, I was unsure on how to greet her, so I decided to keep things simple and say hello.

"Hello, I'm Kevin."

?The girl gave me a long stare before replying. "...Hello, Kevin. My name is Akemi. What brings you to our humble establishment?"

Her voice was soft and soothing, with just a touch of a Japanese accent. Probably not a natural English speaker, but she seemed to speak English fluently. I observed that her eyes were sapphire blue and slitted. When she talked, they gleamed brightly, making them appear much larger than usual. Being this close also made me notice three little symmetrical lines on each side of her cheeks, which I thought were cute, like they were whiskers.

"I was hoping to find a place to stay," I responded. "I was informed that this establishment was recommended"

She tilted her head slightly and then smiled warmly. "Well, you have come to the right place. Tokyo Dreams is known for its charming studio apartments, and we have some available if you are interested in renting one. We're not too expensive either, so don't worry about your budget. However, it would require payment for rent and a security deposit upfront."

Poo.

***

Akemi Takada

It's a bit too early to judge, but I am now starting to hate my life her.

I worked hard all morning showing potential tenants around the various studios, only to fuck off after an hour because they weren't satisfied with the amenities. I've learned that the worst part of having this job is showing people apartments; no matter what kind of mood I'm in when I start the day, I always end up hating everyone who comes through. Even when I'm with someone I really want to get along with, like today with Mr. Tachibana, I still feel like shit by the time lunch rolls around. It takes everything I have to put on a friendly face and listen to their complaints. It takes everything I have to smile and seem polite while listening to their complaints or answering their stupid questions.

What's worse is that most of these gonks aren't actually looking for something affordable. They seem to think that any place is better than sleeping on the streets, and they'll pay whatever price tag is attached to it. I wish they'd stop asking me why I'm such a bitch, but no matter how many times I explain myself, they never believe me. Instead, they ask again, saying that I must be doing this for fun.

Even better, I'm finding it difficult to pay my god damn bills. Working overtime at the clinic and as an apartment realtor barely gets me by, and I have to keep putting money aside in case things go wrong. My funds will not last forever, especially because I know I should leave my mother's apartment, but I just can't. Here is where I was born, reared, and will die, and it carries far too many memories for me to leave. As enticing as it sounds, I'm not even going to think of becoming a part-time Joytoy.

Dealing with ignorant renters here along with stupid customers who don't understand cybernetics at the clinic has been particularly trying in the last few weeks. All of these issues have been stressful, as soon as I go off the clock, I'm heading home and taking a long hot shower before getting an early nap. But alas, there was still plenty of work to be done.

My boss had just ordered me to contact Mr. Tanaka, the owner of numerous buildings nearby, to make him a bargain on selling some of his holdings. Mr. Tanaka, according to him, wants to sell it quickly for "personal reasons," whatever they are. The structure was ancient and run-down, yet it wasn't totally deserted. There were lots of empty areas that could be rented out to other firms, bringing in extra revenue and helping to cover the expense of repairs. But, none of the tenants currently renting those homes appeared to be interested in leaving anytime soon, so we couldn't bargain unless they agreed to evacuate the premises. And if you've ever dealt with obstinate gonks, you'll know what occurres next.

Anyway, after speaking with all of their agents, I was eventually able to reach Mr. Tanaka himself today. He didn't seem too excited about having someone fresh come in and take over operations. He seemed downright antagonistic to the concept, almost as if he was prepared to fight us tooth and claw. Maybe it's because, despite the spike in crime in the region, property values in this area haven't risen in a long time. Or perhaps it was due to Arasaka's secret-not-so-secret data leak, which caused the company's stock price to drop last week. Who can say? Last I heard, they were still looking into how the leak occurred albeit no one knew when or why it started. Those that were responsible were still silent to this day. Wouldn't surprise me if Mr. Tanaka is selling in order to avoid any potential ramifications from that situation. Whatever the cause, it's none of my concern'.

I had no desire to see Mr. Tanaka again. Not only did he appear to be an absolute scum, but I recalled something else about him: his son, Katsuo, was the type of little shit who would brag to everyone within earshot about how much better his father was than everyone else. Every time I saw the kid, he'd give me a smug look and tell everybody who would listen how wealthy his father was. I would have punted the gaki if I had known he was going to grow up and become such an asshole back then. Unfortunately, by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Now I had to see both of them in person and pretend nothing ever happened between us.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyes from exhaustion. Reaching for the spiked tea cup and taking a long sip, I stared absently at the digitally decorated wall. This whole thing has been exhausting, especially since I'm pretty sure that Mr. Tanaka is probably going to blow off the deal with the boss unless we can find some way to convince him otherwise. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax and forget about work for just a little while.

Suddenly, the sound of the lobby door opening jolted me from my thoughts, causing my eyes to snap open. My ears twitch at the sound of footsteps, and I quickly get up to greet the visitor.

As I walked around the reception desk, I spotted a tall figure standing in the lobby. The figure was wearing only a nomad jacket and black shorts but what caught my eyes the most was the person's face, and it was obscured by a black glossy visor, which seems to be flickering with computer-generated eyes and mouth.

I couldn't help but be taken aback by this stranger's appearance, frozen in shock for a moment. This guy is decked out in Exotic cybernetics, from his metal legs to his head. The man in front of me stood roughly 7 feet tall, with a long snout-shaped visor with a glare foil-coated polarized screen and four backswept metallic horns that flared out from the sides of its head like jet wings. The face visor displayed red computer-generated eyes, nose, and mouth that appear to move and change shape in reaction to his emotions. Its physique was thin and feminine, with fur covering its belly and a black short covering its waist.

Its plating was a deep metallic blue, like car paint, with silvery, 'maybe chrome?' accents, while the thing's fur was a dark gray, with a great puff of fur going down its throat like a pillow. The symbol plates on its cheeks were gem-like, with the insignia presumably floating inside. His upper collar and arms are cybernetic, with armor plating on the forearm and hands. Its rear shoulders feature three long prongs reaching away from its body like wings. Its belly is exposed, with fur the same color as its head. The hairy, fluffy tail had a tuft at the end.

Finally, the digitigrade legs felt a touch too lengthy, but only seemed appropriate with those proportions. Its feet had fuzzy soles that resembled fox paws. It has cyborg-clawed hands with metal scales and talons and knuckle spikes. It appeared to have a distinct, computerized sense of balance, flowing fluid around the room like a dancer, almost as if it were dancing in place.

Altogether, this guy was unlike any other Exotic she had ever seen. I have never seen anyone quite like him, and for a few seconds I wasn't quite sure how to proceed.

"Hello," he says, his visor showed an animated emoji giving a wave. "I'm Kevin."