Chapter 230: Jackie Welles
Looking at the obviously emptier bar, Jackie couldn't help but frown. "Ma, this business... why does it feel so much slower? Is our reputation fading?"
Mama Welles slid a glass of Jackie's usual tequila in front of him and served drinks to the others in turn, sighing. "It's not the reputation, Jackie. It's the times that have changed."
She wiped the counter while lowering her voice. "Ever since that 'Administrator'... that AI took over the city, the streets really are much more peaceful.
"Fewer gunshots, fewer messy people.
"It's a good thing. At least when I close up at night to go home, I don't have to worry about catching a stray bullet."
She changed the subject, pointing to the empty booths. "But the rules are stricter too. The Valentinos... have pulled back a lot."
She glanced cautiously at the door, her voice dropping even lower. "Those quick-money but dangerous jobs from before aren't easy to do anymore. The Administrator watches closely, and those tin cans aren't to be trifled with."
"The killer is, gigs are scarce now," she continued, her wiping motion unconsciously speeding up. "The shadow wars between corporations have been suppressed, and gangs don't dare to start conflicts casually.
"Naturally, there are fewer 'dirty jobs' needing mercenaries. The fixers I know are all extremely cautious now; they don't dare to hand out tasks lightly."
Mama Welles placed the wiped glass back on the rack, a complex expression on her face. "Many old regulars—mercs, fixers—have either found proper jobs, left Night City, or simply stay home and don't come out. Without them, the bar's business naturally faded."
"The ones coming to drink now are mostly neighbors from nearby," she pointed to a few regulars drinking quietly in the corner, "or some gang kids who are relatively well-behaved. They drink cheap beer and chat. It's not like before, throwing money around and starting fights at the drop of a hat."
She looked at Jackie, her tone peaceful but heavy with the weight of years. "To be honest, Jackie, your ma has lived this long, been through the Corporate Wars, and survived the chaotic years on the streets. Now that it's like this..." She looked around the slightly deserted bar. "I can't say I like it. The streets are too quiet; they've lost that heat, that life they used to have.
"But I can't say I hate it either. At least I don't have to live in fear all day, terrified someone will pull a gun in the bar or rob me on the way home."
She shook her head gently, her fingertips unconsciously tracing an old scratch on the counter. "It's just... I always feel uncomfortable. Night City seems to have had its soul drawn out. It's missing that kick it's supposed to have."
Listening to his mother, Jackie's gaze swept over the empty booths, and an indescribable sourness welled up in his heart.
He had originally planned to show off his influence in Heywood to his friends, using the familiar noise and excitement to prove he was still the Jackie Welles who knew everyone.
But the scene before him was like a bucket of cold water poured over his heart.
The street status he took pride in seemed to be quietly fading under the impact of the new order.
He picked up his glass and downed the tequila in one gulp, the burning liquid seemingly trying to burn through the knot in his chest.
Slamming the glass down on the counter, he forced an exaggerated smile. "Hey! If business is slow, it's slow. At least it's safe! You can take it easy too, Ma!"
His voice was deliberately raised, as if trying to convince himself. "Besides, isn't Jackie Welles back?! There's always a way to make the Coyote lively again! Your boy is rolling with the Sage now!"
He looked around at everyone. That last sentence—"Your boy is rolling with the Sage now"—was spoken exceptionally loudly. It was both to pump himself up and to declare to everyone that even if times had changed, Jackie Welles could still find his place.
Only, there was a hint of unwillingness and stubbornness in that tone.
Maine glanced at Jackie but didn't speak, only raising his glass.
Dorio smiled. Lucy drank her beverage quietly, her eyes occasionally sweeping over the few old customers in the bar, who were also secretly sizing up this group of "legends."
Rebecca had already hopped off the booth and was curiously investigating the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner.
Valerie sat next to Jackie, gently swirling the glass in her hand, the ice cubes making a crisp clinking sound.
She looked at Jackie's forced smile and the loss deep in his eyes, understanding perfectly.
She reached out her mechanical right hand and patted Jackie's shoulder. Her voice was calm but carried a rare softness. "Jackie, order has just been established. Transition periods are always like this.
"Lord Sage needs stability. After stability, opportunities will appear. Your connections and roots here will be useful then."
Her words didn't offer too much comfort; they were more like a judgment based on reality. Jackie paused, looking at Valerie. Seeing the steadiness and certainty in her eyes—different from before—the restlessness in his heart seemed to settle a bit.
He grinned, revealing a more sincere smile. "You're right, V! I'm a local legend! There's always gonna be a use for me! Come on, drink up! We're not going home till we're wasted! Ma, hit me with another one!"
Seeing her son cheer up, Mama Welles smiled too. She skillfully poured him another glass. "That's right! Friends, don't just stare, drink! Try my chips, still the same old flavor!"
Inside the bar, the warm lights remained. Although there weren't many customers, under the lively atmosphere Jackie deliberately created and Mama Welles' attentive hospitality, the place gradually warmed up.
The members of Maine's squad leaned back in their seats, chatting in twos and threes about recent experiences.
Rebecca had fiddled with the jukebox in the corner, and an old song with a brisk rhythm flowed through the room—though the volume was set just right, daring not to be too loud, it indeed injected a long-lost vitality into the space.
Jackie maneuvered skillfully between his friends and his mother, his hearty laughter ringing out occasionally, playing the role of the hospitable host to perfection.
Only in the intervals when he occasionally looked out the window, catching a glimpse of patrol soldiers walking by rhythmically or staring at the unusually quiet street, would his eyes go blank for a moment.
In this city where the rules had been redefined by an AI, this "local legend" who once navigated the chaos with ease indeed needed to rethink his future direction.
The Night City he knew, full of danger and opportunity, was molting. And he, Jackie Welles, had to find his own footing within the new order.
But right now, under the familiar lights of El Coyote Cojo, surrounded by best friends and family, he preferred to put those messy thoughts aside for the moment.
Raising his glass, making his laughter louder—he was still the Jackie Welles who ran the streets of Heywood. Perhaps the form would change, but that generosity and responsibility in his bones would never change.
(End of Chapter)