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Chapter 1: X

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I do not remember where I heard this quote, but it suddenly sparked in my mind as I heard their cries... If we did not suffer from time to time, happiness would no longer be bearable.

I do not think the people of this city understand what happiness looks like, so the question remains, is misery ever bearable?

Will some occasional sparks of happiness make their misery even a tiny bit bearable? I do not think so. I reckon they do not either.

That's why her cries fell to deaf ears, no one paying attention to the middle-aged lady as she cried her heart out, so much anguish and despair in her voice... No one paid her any heed.

I mean, why would they? It wasn't only she who was crying... I can hear cries coming from all over the nearby train carts.

The people of this city, they're used to each other's cries. It's music to their ears, I can see that. Their day wouldn't feel the same without hearing each other's misery.

The lady was in fact a regular of this ride, and many other regulars know her no doubt. It wasn't even the first time she cried on her way to work... Work, that must be what she's crying about.

The city reeks of misery, so work must be nothing but misery too, if it can even be called work, you commit yourself to work so much that it becomes slavery.

Work doesn't treat you right, yet you have to bear through it, not for yourself, but for the people you love. She must have kids, maybe a single mother or her husband's job is like hers, modern-day slavery.

The people of this city have given up... No, they had given up a long time ago, hanging their heads down, eyeing their bloody dirty shoes, reflecting the face they hate.

And just like always, the lady's cries will be ignored. Who has time to attend to her misery when they don't even have time for their own?

"Can we cry with you?" Such strange words went on to destroy the miserable routine of the cart's people. I'm sure they won't sleep well tonight.

"Huh?" The lady's cry came to a halt, utterly confused as she hastily wiped her tear-stained face before eyeing the stranger who took a seat beside her, "W... What?"

"I am X and I feel miserable today," The man muttered, "Wanna cry together?"

"Y-Yeah?" Maybe she didn't mean it, such an answer. She just wasn't used to her routine cries of misery being broken so severely that she didn't know how to react.

The man lied back on his chair, letting his long inky hair rest alone, and he really started crying. He actually started crying much to the lady's dismay.

It was at that time that an obnoxious law of the universe took over, except this time, it was a beautiful symphony as the lady followed along, crying her heart out, their hands finding their way to each other as they shared all the pain, knowing that they aren't alone.

The flock followed, for one reason or another. Many in the cart cried or sniffled their cries... Until everyone cried, the rest following simply because everyone else was crying.

"This is my stop," The Cart soon soothed down as it came to a halt. It was the lady's calling to come to the real world, to slavery, "Thank you." She murmured those words with as much genuineness as she could muster.

"No, thank you," The man shook his head, "This might've just been the best introduction to Night City ever, so thank you."

It was as if she had heard the strangest words ever, looking at him weirdly. The man was certainly attractive with hair that would make anyone jealous and deep inky eyes that seemed to see into her soul, yet she could tell that he seemed much too pure for this city.

"Leave, please," The lady begged, "Leave before this city holds you a prisoner of its own misery."

"Thank you, but this is where we belong," The man that called himself X shook his head, something which the lady didn't wish to argue about. She merely looked at him like a lost soul that's about to experience the chaotic painting that's Night City, never to be able to leave again.

Therefore, she bid him farewell before walking right back to slavery, leaving the man all alone as he waited to reach his own stop, one of the poorest districts of Night City, Watson.

Many people's stop was Santo Domingo, one of Night City's oldest districts.

Corporations use it as a testing ground for industrial projects, destroying old factories just to build new ones, while residents scrape a desperate living in crowded megabuildings, wishing for something better.

Thus, the cart became mostly empty, leaving X to his own thoughts as he hummed himself a tone, seeming strangely happy despite crying his heart out just minutes ago.

It was finally his stop, Watson, specifically, one of its subdistricts, Little China. Right away, X noticed why they call Watson the bad neighborhood of Night City.

Instead of merely misery, there was fear for their lives could be claimed at any moment, and no one would give a shit, gangs rule these bad neighborhoods, and cops can not help but suck their dick, salivating for the breadcrumbs that fall off their pockets.

"Well, now we're stuck with the name X," The man muttered to himself.

"That's my fucking name, bitch," The man replied to himself, "What's wrong with it anyway?"

"Ehh, right?" The man shrugged as he responded.

"Agreed," He nodded to himself as he walked through the streets of Little China, people not paying his mumblings much heed. The sane are a rarity in Night City.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," The man snapped, "It's not like you're any better... Like, what? Wanna compare letters now?"

"..."

"..."

"Dumbasses," The man muttered under his breath.

The man looked around, strolling Little China's streets while avoiding any signs of trouble, impressed by the visage of its streets, quite the colorful subdistrict it was, bright and energetic.

However, appearances are often deceiving for in the midst of it all, we have Watson's inhabitants, squeezed between the brutality of the corporations on the one hand and of the gangs on the other.

I can see it, their misery and fear... I can feel it deep in my bones as if the city is some kind of brainwashing machine, stepping into its embrace and turning you into a husk of your own self, a slave.

"It's weird, isn't it?" X muttered to himself, "The contrast between the suits walking about and the hopeless homeless on the sides of the streets... Fucking gorgeous."

"I'm X, by the way," Here he goes, talking to his imaginary friends again.

"Mistry, lovely to meet you," Oh no, it wasn't an imaginary friend. She was really, maybe. She was a cute girl, having quite the eccentric vibe about her, "Here to mend your broken soul?"

"Excuse me?" X raised a brow as he looked around her small shop, quite the cozy shop for someone like him. What attracted his attention most were the dozens of shards of books, all about death.

"There are still traces of tears on your face," Misty pointed out.

"Ah," X nodded as he turned his attention to the sticks of incense throughout the shop, some lit up. Their smell was lovely, "I'm a broken soul, I guess... That isn't why I cried though."

"Why did you cry?" Well, such an eccentric customer certainly drew her curiosity.

"Because another cried," X let out a strange smile as he murmured, "Just wanted to cry with them. I just felt like it, and well, it ended being a beautiful experience."

"..." Misty was silent a while, just staring at the strange man, "It does sound like a beautiful experience." Enviable even, she thought in her mind.

"What's this for?" X asked as he picked some type of incense.

"White sage incense, you two should be a match made in heaven, it clears negative energy and spiritual impurities. Smudging can also ease tension, lift your mood, and relieve stress." Misty certainly seemed like quite the good seller.

"Unfortunately, not a match made on Earth," X shook his head, "My pockets are kinda empty... Anyway, I'm here to meet Vic."

"Old friends?" Misty wondered.

"No," X shook his head, "Just a visit filled with hope."

"Mm," Misty hummed, finding the encounter to be stranger and stranger by the second, "Here, go through the back door, then go down the staircase to the left, and you'll find Viktor's Clinic."

"Thank you, my dear," Said X before following her directions, leaving a somewhat confused Misty for she could swear the air around him changed significantly as he said that, as if he was a different person.

Vik's clinic resides behind Misty's Esoterica, in a garage. The place doesn't look fancy or cozy, just quite simple.

"Welcome, need some implants?" It was Vik's clinic, so it was naturally Vik who spoke.

"Need a job," X responded.

"Ah," Vik nodded as such a request was common, "Unfortunately, I have none for you."

"I see," X nodded, seeming much more stable than before, "You know, we met a woman a little while ago. I assume she was heading to work, crying on her way there. I realized that jobs are a rarity in Night City."

"And?" Vik was now forced to really pay attention to the man.

"And just like her, I'll have to subject myself to slavery, so how about this," X stated as he approached Vik, "I work for you with no wage, a free assistant. Just teach me bits about the craft."

Unfortunately, I've come to realize that even becoming a slave is hard in this city. There are too many people walking about, preparing to offer themselves to slavery at all costs.

Well, maybe Vik was different. That's why we found ourselves there after all.

He might just be a good person, and keep in mind that a good person likely means an entirely different thing in Night City than anywhere else.

Vik wanted no slave, but he was also just scraping by, unable to afford an assistant. Maybe he didn't need one, so X had to leave although he didn't seem disappointed.

"Ahh," X let out a sigh as he lied on the roadside nearby, very near the clinic, "Back to the life of the homeless... It's really been a while."

"You know, after thinking about it a bit," X's mumbling was interrupted by her voice, Misty, "I realized that you two are really a match made in heaven." After which, she would hand him an incense stick.

"White Sage," Muttered X as he took the incense, letting out a laugh, "I really really love this fucking shithole."