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Kitagawa Hiro's apartment was a barebones space, typical of the cookie-cutter design in Night City's megabuildings. A bed embedded in the wall, a cramped bathroom, and a circular couch surrounding a holo-projector. Ads flickered across the projector, courtesy of an unpaid service fee. In the corner, a vending machine and microwave served as the "kitchen," which was standard for most of the two thousand identical units in the building.
Lin Mo glanced around the apartment, a small sigh escaping his lips. This was a far cry from luxury, but compared to the countless homeless on the streets below, it was paradise. The reality of Night City hit him hard—this city built dreams while grinding them to dust.
"Have a seat," Kitagawa gestured to the couch.
Lin Mo sat, his eyes scanning the space. Despite the uniform layout, the personal touches in the apartment told a story—plush toys scattered on the shelves, makeup kits neatly arranged on the desk, and a pink carpet underfoot. The decor was soft, distinctly feminine. It didn't take long for Lin Mo to notice the framed photo sitting on the table in front of him.
"Is this your sister?" Lin Mo asked, picking up the frame.
In the photo, Kitagawa Hiro was smiling broadly at the camera, a small girl perched on his shoulders. She wore a school uniform, her innocent smile lighting up the image.
"Yeah, that's her," Kitagawa's voice softened as he spoke. "Cute, right? Now that she's grown, she's even more beautiful. Sometimes I wonder if we're even related, seeing as I got the short end of the looks department." He gave a bitter chuckle and disappeared into the side room, the electronic door hissing shut behind him.
As the door closed, a metallic clatter echoed from within, followed by the distinct sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Moments later, Kitagawa emerged from the room, holding a rifle.
"But here in Japantown, under the rule of the Tyger Claws, beauty can be a curse. She didn't have the power to protect herself, so I had to be the one to watch her back. And now... I've failed her," Kitagawa muttered, his voice tinged with frustration as he inspected the weapon in his hands.
Lin Mo remained silent, knowing full well how pointless it was to suggest calling the NCPD. Night City's police force—if you could even call it that—was a joke. Understaffed, underfunded, and corrupt to its core. The cops were more interested in corporate sponsors and staying alive than protecting the average citizen. Even the regular street gangs outgunned them.
In fact, Lin Mo recalled how NCPD outsourced much of their work to mercs, hiring edge-runners to deal with the overwhelming crime rate. The gigs popped up like wildfire across Night City, from petty theft to murder. Lin Mo had spent hours in the game playing as V, cleaning up crime scenes for the NCPD in exchange for cold, hard cash. But in the real Night City, the frequency of those crimes painted a much darker picture.
"When did they take her?" Lin Mo finally asked.
"Two nights ago. I was caught up with something and didn't make it home. She got worried and went out looking for me... but the Tyger Claws found her first," Kitagawa said, his voice strained.
Two days... that's not good, Lin Mo thought grimly. He knew the underbelly of Night City well enough to realize that two days in the hands of the Tyger Claws was more than enough time for things to turn ugly.
She's lucky if we find her in one piece... he mused, though he kept those thoughts to himself.
"I know what you're thinking. Don't worry about her. If she's been harmed, those bastards will pay. If she hasn't, they'll still pay," Kitagawa growled, his voice icy and controlled, like a dormant volcano ready to erupt. The sound of him racking the rifle's bolt echoed through the room, the mechanical click a testament to his resolve. The fire of revenge burned in his eyes—either he'd die trying, or the Tyger Claws would.
Lin Mo's gaze drifted to the rifle Kitagawa was holding.
A D5 Copperhead—solid choice, produced by Nokota Arms. While they dominated the budget weapons market, Nokota made weapons that were dependable and affordable, unlike some of the cheap knockoffs flooding the streets. The Copperhead, in particular, was a favorite among rookie edge-runners—lightweight, reliable, and deadly. A hundred years ago, the Kalashnikov had been the go-to rifle worldwide. Now, the Copperhead had taken its place.
"Not bad," Lin Mo remarked, eyeing the rifle. "But if you're thinking about storming a Tyger Claw hideout with just that, you're going to need more firepower. Two or three enemies, maybe you're fine. But if there's more than five, you're outgunned."
Kitagawa spat on the floor, clearly irritated. "Oh yeah? And what's a kid like you gonna do? Teach me how to run a rescue op? Spare me the lecture. You're barely out of diapers," he snapped.
Lin Mo remained calm, aware of how his youth might appear to someone like Kitagawa. If only I could tell him that I've lived more lifetimes than he can imagine.
"Let's focus on the task at hand," Lin Mo replied, steering the conversation away from confrontation. "What kind of implants are you running?"
Kitagawa eyed him warily but answered, "Enhanced right cyberarm, Dinara YR21 Skinweave, Kiroshi Auditory Boost, and enhanced lungs."
Lin Mo ran through the list in his head. The Kiroshi gear was decent, but the Skinweave was what stood out—a basic model, sure, but effective against small-caliber bullets.
"How's the Skinweave holding up? It'll stop a few rounds?" Lin Mo asked.
"It's soft armor, good for small stuff. It's not like I'm packing chrome like a walking tank or anything," Kitagawa grumbled.
"It'll do for now. You used to be with the Tyger Claws?" Lin Mo asked, noting the setup in the apartment.
"Yeah. I ran with them back in the day. I left the gang a while ago—wanted out, for her sake. Now I just do small-time gigs. Thought I could keep her safe," Kitagawa admitted, leaning back against the wall, his eyes drifting to the photo of his sister.
"And yet, she's in danger because of it... Doesn't she know how dangerous this city is?" Lin Mo couldn't help but ask. Even at sixteen, he knew the rules—Night City didn't care about innocence.
"Maybe I protected her too well. I never let her see the dark side of this city. I thought if I made enough money, I could get us both out of this hellhole," Kitagawa said softly, thumbing the magazine release on his pistol and checking the rounds inside.
"We can talk about regrets later. Right now, we need to act," Lin Mo said, standing up and checking his own gear. "Got anything I can use?" Kitagawa pointed to the small storage room.
"Take a look if you want, but I doubt there's anything better than what you've got."
Lin Mo shook his head. "I'm good. Got everything I need."
Kitagawa lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. "Then take care of whatever you need to now. If you want to hit the head, or... whatever, go ahead. Could be our last chance."
"Maybe you should take your own advice and get your head clear. Wouldn't want anything clouding your judgment in the heat of battle," Lin Mo shot back calmly.
Kitagawa exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, flicking the cigarette to the floor and stomping it out. "Alright, enough stalling. You're eager? Let's move," he said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Tell me the situation on the way."
"My sister's been missing for two days. I spent every minute since then hunting for leads. Yesterday, I found where they're keeping her—a small restaurant owned by a Tyger Claw lieutenant. No telling how many of his men are holed up there."
Kitagawa picked up his rifle and looked at Lin Mo, determination in his eyes.
"You scared?" he asked.
"I'm scared," Lin Mo replied, drawing his katana and testing the edge. The blade gleamed in the low light, its polished surface reflecting the harsh reality of the city outside the window. "Scared those Tyger Claws won't last long."
Kitagawa squinted at the flash of the blade, momentarily surprised by the katana's presence. He hadn't expected Lin Mo to carry something so deadly, let alone handle it with such practiced ease. The way Lin Mo moved, how smoothly he drew and sheathed the weapon—it spoke volumes.
Maybe this kid's more than he seems, Kitagawa thought, briefly imagining how easily that blade could've been used against him.
Satisfied with his inspection, Lin Mo slid the katana back into its sheath, securing it in his bag. To the untrained eye, the sword was nearly invisible—a hidden weapon waiting to strike.
"Let's go."