"Welcome, V," the range owner said with a grin. "Since you're Rebecca's friend, I won't waste breath on introductions. She knows this place like the back of her hand. Same deal as always, yeah?"
Rebecca tossed a casual, "Put it on my tab," over her shoulder and led Neo and Lucy deeper inside.
The underground shooting range was nothing like the glittering, corpo-funded ranges uptown.
There were no polished chrome lanes, no AR target systems, no simulation pods.
Just rust, noise, and the faint tang of cordite that had seeped into the concrete years ago.
The kind of place where guns were repaired, not replaced.
The kind where you smelled the oil in the air, where each shot echoed like a heartbeat against cracked walls.
And, unlike the posh ranges that charged obscene membership fees, this one only asked a fraction of the price.
The kind of place where Night City's real shooters came to breathe.
…
Rebecca cracked her knuckles the moment she stepped in, her expression softening for the first time all night. Surrounded by weapons and gun parts, she looked… content. Like she'd come home.
"V, you even know how to use one of these?" she asked, already tinkering with a pile of parts.
Neo replied, "Not really."
It was true. He'd never fired a gun since arriving in this world.
Not because he couldn't.
But because, with what he carried—the strength, the will, the legacy of a swordsman who had once split mountains—it simply wasn't necessary.
Why shoot when you could cut the bullet itself?
Lucy, watching quietly, picked up her own set of parts and in a few quick motions, assembled another gun. She handed it over, tilting her head slightly. "You don't mind using two, right?"
Neo chuckled softly. "Not at all."
He took the second pistol, testing its balance, but didn't fire.
For a moment, Lucy's reflection flickered in the glass wall of the range — her gaze focused, her expression unreadable.
She was the opposite of Rebecca in every way.
Lucy was ice: calm, lethal, and distant. She never said more than she had to, her silence a weapon of its own.
Rebecca was fire: loud, chaotic, unfiltered. What she felt, she said. What she wanted, she grabbed.
Two polar forces.
And both of them… drawn to him.
Neo smiled inwardly. This city sure knows how to make life complicated.
…
Gunfire snapped through the air.
Bang! Bang!
Rebecca's laughter followed each shot.
Bang-bang-bang!
Lucy fired in perfect rhythm, every bullet finding its mark.
Neo stood back, hands in his pockets, simply watching.
The smell of gunpowder and the rhythm of their shots filled the underground room.
That was when the range owner strolled by again, grinning wide.
"Mr. V, huh?" he said, leaning on the divider. "You've got yourself some luck, you know that?"
Neo raised an eyebrow. "Luck?"
The man chuckled knowingly. "Anyone can see it. Those two—Lucy and Rebecca—they've both got eyes for you."
Neo sighed faintly. "And?"
The old man spread his hands. "Nothing strange about it. Just… be careful, choom. Around here, 'love' is more of a punchline than a promise."
He gestured vaguely around the range. "In this city, if someone likes you, they'll try to own you. If they hate you, they'll either ignore you or shoot you. That's the way of things."
Neo's lips twitched. "So, what's your point?"
"Point is," the man said, still smiling, "you're walking into one of those old 'hero saves the girl' setups. Seen it a thousand times. Works every damn time. Maybe you should… brace yourself."
Neo laughed quietly, and the man joined him.
Then Neo asked, "How much does Rebecca owe you?"
"Two thousand eddies," the man replied instantly.
Without hesitation, Neo pulled a credit chip from his pocket and flicked it toward him.
The owner caught it, blinking. "You serious? You just—"
"Paid her debt," Neo said simply. "And added twenty-two for your next cup of coffee. Call it interest."
The man's grin widened like a slot machine jackpot. "You're a rare breed, V. She's gonna owe you for this, and I'll make sure she knows it."
"Good." Neo turned away, tone dry. "Make it sound like I didn't mean to."
"Ha! You got it."
…
After the session, they headed back up into the streets.
The car ride was quiet, the glow of neon reflecting off the windshield like fractured stars.
Then Rebecca's holo-call chimed.
"Yeah?" she answered, one hand on the wheel.
Maine's voice came through, deep and serious.
[Maine: Rebecca, where are you now?]
[Rebecca: On my way back. What's up?]
[Maine: Change route. Old place. We're moving. Meet us there.]
[Rebecca: Old place? Hold up, you got a big job?]
[Maine: Huge. Not one of the small fries. Time to gear up and burn some eddies. See you soon.]
The call ended with a soft click.
Rebecca sighed, pulling the car over. "Well, shit. Guess I'm learning to explain things now. Anyway—Maine wants us at the old spot. Big gig. Gotta roll."
She unbuckled, flashed a grin at Neo and Lucy, and stepped out.
"Try not to miss me too much, alright?"
Then she was gone, disappearing into the glowing chaos of Watson's streets.
…
Now the car was silent again.
Only Neo and Lucy remained.
Then—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
An incoming call.
Neo accepted it, and Jackie Welles' familiar smirk flickered to life as a holographic projection on the dash.
"Hey, hermano," Jackie said, voice low but serious for once. "You got a minute? I need to talk. Something big's going down."
The neon lights reflected off Neo's half-shadowed face.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I've got time."