From central-western Canada to Night City on the West Coast of America,
it takes roughly two days.
That is if you are driving an ordinary corporate vehicle, though.
With the machine I am driving right now,
I can get there in a little under a day.
So, what was my first impression of Night City?
A city where the gutter and respectability are all mixed together.
A dreary, hopeless neighborhood under pouring rain.
Some say going there is insanity,
while others call it the hell where legends are born.
But right now, this is what I wanted to say:
Even the road there is treacherous.
How could I keep getting lost
when the navigator was finding the route for me?
I had already been lost for three days.
Now I really had to find the way.
I steeled myself,
racked my brain desperately,
and drove this way and that.
Finally, in the distance, not Night City,
but the Southern Badlands began to come into view.
All I had to do now was enter Night City
and establish footholds at the key locations.
"Pacifica, Watson, Heywood."
Not too many, not too few,
but not safe places, either.
Out of those, I would head to Coastview in Pacifica first
and probably clash with the Voodoo Boys.
My sister already had a building prepared in advance
in Heywood, so there should not be any major trouble there.
Watson should be manageable too,
as long as I avoided the Tyger Claws and Maelstrom.
For now, I first needed to figure out
how to get through those Badlands quietly.
"Should I just gun it?"
Yeah. I should just gun it. Even if I did,
wouldn't they just shrug it off?
There was no point overthinking it.
It would only give me a headache. Keeping it simple would do.
Grr! Grr!
"Fuck it!!"
Kicking up clouds of dust,
I tore through the Southern Badlands.
I had blown past the speed limit long ago.
Blasting down that long, straight road
at over 250 kilometers per hour—
the feeling was absolutely incredible.
Just like that, with an insanely awesome engine roar,
I entered Pacifica.
Naturally, I ran into the Voodoo Boys.
I drove right past them and kept going.
As if it were something that had happened several times before,
the Voodoo Boys did not pay much attention to me.
No, they paid a very little attention.
"Say that again. How much are you offering?"
"Eight million eddies. I am building my home here,
and that is what I will pay if your side agrees not to touch it."
"....."
"Too little? Nine-point-two million eddies.
I cannot give you any more than that."
"No, that is enough. We Voodoo Boys
will not touch a single hair on your head."
I got through Pacifica more peacefully than expected.
As expected of a capitalist city, money was king.
Now I just had to choose a suitable building,
install a few security devices and a network,
then move into the so-called hole-in-the-wall shop
my sister had prepared in Heywood.
Grr! Grr!
"Heywood, wait for me."
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