Megabuilding 4 was a bustling hub of life, even at this time of night. The odd people of Night City in all their diversity fully on display as they went about their business. The edifice itself, like all of its kind, still disturbed me. The sheer scope of it seemed to defy my understanding of structural support. I was going to be high up in this concrete and steel tower, and it looked like parts of it might fall off or crumble at any moment.

  I parked in a marked spot, which was located in a private section of the megabuilding's parking structure. It required a certain type of apartment fob to even get access to these areas. Many of the vehicles here were far and away more snazzy than mine. Leaving the SUV behind, I walked over to the single visible elevator. Once again access was regulated to only certain fobs. The ride up was shorter than I would have thought for heading up to the 88th floor. Even the advertisements from the monitors were less intrusive and more cultured.

  The path from the elevator to my suite was a change of pace. Everything here was well maintained and looked clean. Cleaning or repair bots and drones were everywhere. There were even actual plants here and there. Ferns and Ficus, mostly. There was wood paneling on the walls, I couldn't tell if it was real or not. Lots of uncomfy looking couches and loveseats lining the walls. Odd light fixtures both in the ceiling and on the walls. Even strip lighting in the corners and creases. I felt both interested and repulsed by the décor, which I supposed was some kind of minimalist Corpo bullshit. The little manual that Rogue had provided for the suite said that there was shopping on the 80th and 90th floors. It had a list of the restaurants and shops I would find there. Probably with vastly overinflated prices for slightly better than normal Night City fare.

  If there was any obvious problem, it was the stares from the other residents of these top floors. Mostly mid level management at the various corporations in Night City, they instantly saw that I was out of place and reacted by ignoring me with extreme prejudice. To them I didn't exist, which was fine by me. I'd be more than happy to erase them from existence if I could.

  My new suite was 88A - 100. 88th Floor, Section A, Suite 100. Ah, there it was. Of course, it was as far from the Elevator as it could get. As I stepped through the door, which appeared to be made of a lightly painted wood, I got a shock. Fifteen foot tall floor to ceiling windows with a beautiful nighttime view of the City Center. Everything lit up in neon lights. The holographic ad banners clearly visible even from this far away. The amazing things people were capable of, that they then turned into something stupid.

  Once I managed to tear my eyes away from the stunning sight, I saw I was in an open concept living room, dinning room, kitchen area. It was quite large, for a place in the city. The living area had recessed seating with plush leather couches, a completely alien to me entertainment center, and a glass coffee table. The dinning area had a glass dining table for six, the chairs a combination of metal and fabric of some kind. The kitchen was small although well appointed, especially for a place where almost no one cooked for themselves.

  I wasted no time transferring the goods in my backpack and pockets into the modest fridge. Between the kitchen and living area, on the left hand side of the suite was a doorway leading into the laundry room and bathroom combo. Between the dinning area and living room, on the right hand side of the suite was a doorway leading a hallway with two more doors. One was the snazzy bedroom, done up in black silk, and the other was a den with bookshelves full of knickknacks and a large desk. I hadn't turned on a single light, with my new eyes I didn't need to. Once I had finished exploring the apartment I found myself back in front of the windows looking out over the city again. I hated that I loved the view as much as I did.

  Later, after I had my full of humanity's "achievements" I turned on the holoscreen, for some background noise. Then made myself a sandwich and ate while thinking about how I wanted to deal with using a Joytoy for experimentation. The idea of it felt wrong, though I had no intention of doing anything damaging to them. Part of me was cringing away from the idea. To satisfy my own moral compass, I'd have to explain what I was doing at least to some extent. It was the proper thing to do. I tried to shake my head clear of my doubts.

  Well, some more research on Joytoys was called for. I pulled out the cellphone like glass Agent. I spent the next half hour learning it's functions and how to interact with the Net on it. Most features were fairly intuitive. Once I got used to the iconography of 2075. I first looked up the laws surrounding Joytoys, to find there was a lack of them. In fact, by the standards of my upbringing Night City really was a lawless place, except when it came to corporate law. Thousand of business regulations, making it difficult if not impossible for new businesses to get started. However, I was sure that most, if not all, of them could be bypassed by greasing the right palms. I'd have to trust Rogue to point me in the right direction there.

  After my brief tangent diving into the legal system, I turned my attention back to the laws specific to Joytoys. Prostitution was mostly legal and unregulated. Where it became illegal was in the area of gross bodily harm and or alteration, or matters of age. So gang run toys were fair game for the darker and more dangerous fantasies some perverts might have. While it might be expedient to get a subject from them, the gangs had a history of using any information gained from their toys against clients. Make no mistake, even if they were not a Doll there would be some method of information gathering on the Joytoy. Unless we were talking about the Mox, who were all about saving the Toys that had gotten tangled up with the other gangs.

  There were self run Joytoys, they were a mixed bag. Some were desperate, some were canny go-getters. Some were from the poorest places, some were from the highest rungs of society. If I went that route I'd have to carefully vet my subject.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The last option was both the best and worst one. There were Corp run brothels for high end clientele. Highly regulated, the excellent health of the Joytoy were guaranteed. The Corps promised everything would be extremely discrete. However, they all tended to be Dolls with full recording abilities wired in. I really didn't like that idea.

  No, I was making this far more difficult than it had to be. I'd a perfect source of information, with people that I could at least partially trust. Well, once I convinced them I was still Ryan under my new purple skin. I'd been avoiding thinking about them, too much, though I wasn't sure why. I finally talked myself into at least a visit.

  Let's go see the Mox.

  As I thought through how I'd want to handle my reintroduction to the Mox, my eyes slipped once again to the date and time on my Agent. I'd lost six months or just about. It was February, 11, 2075. So much time stolen from me. Did it take them that long to alter my original body into this one, or did they need that long to shove my mind into this body from my old one? I should be freaking out over this, but I was very comfortable in this body. It felt good, and it felt right. Was that also part of their process or was this simply a better reflection of who I was becoming? Was my Druid class somehow more compatible with this Kaldorei body.

  What an odd problem to have. Or was it really a problem at all? My actions, since my reawakening, have been more primal, more in tune with my instincts. I was far less concerned with the morality of the use of my abilities, and far quicker to resort to confrontation. After some examination of my inner self I found I wasn't actually worried about any of this. I knew it would have greatly bothered me before, but now I felt little in the way of preoccupation over these issues.

  Even as my ruminations flowed, my right hand continued to draw and aim and then re-holster my pistol. The action required no direction on my part, it was simply a reflex and with each draw it became smoother, quicker and more ingrained into my muscles. Now that was a neat benefit, I could actually feel the process of my nerves and muscles becoming hard wired into this behavior. Truly, a novel experience for me.

  I needed to find some one for my further combat training. The sooner I started the faster I could stack more advantages in my favor. My head nodded. Perhaps Rita would be interested in a little practice, or those new ladies I had met at the Afterlife. Rebecca at least seemed to know her way around weapons. Hmm. that was another difference, I could admit to myself that I'd enjoyed the way those women moved under the influence of my mana. Even Rogue, despite not liking her past choices. On one hand, I was far less hung up on many of my previous concerns about my desires. Yet, in the past I'd always thought that control and patience were my paramount concerns. Now I could see that I wanted tp enjoy myself more.

  I'd certainly have to find new ways to enjoy my gifts without letting it all go to my head, or warp my views, or dictate my actions. A part of me, perhaps new or at least more noticeable than before, lobbied to utilize my power in a ruthless manner. To take what I wanted and to bend others to my will. After all, my abilities were perfect for that. The pleasure alone was enough to shape women to my tastes given time, never mind actually being able to affect changes in hormones and DNA. While I might not be able to change specific memories, there was no mechanical reason I couldn't turn off nerve clusters in the brain until I found the right ones. Blanking out whole sections of their lives. I'd some idea of how transformative that could be.

  But that's not who I wanted to be. Every relationship in that scenario would ultimately be empty, every person I bent to my will just a puppet. Meaningless. I very much craved willing attention. People who wanted to be with me, instead of broken husks.

  All the issues of good or evil aside, I didn't think that molding people was a viable long term strategy. Very few folks enjoyed being controlled, regardless of the kindness of the hands holding the leash. Even the people you weren't juggling might choose to oppose you on those grounds as well. Whether they wanted that power for themselves, or just wanted to be rid of the terrible behavior. Hell, some people for similar reasons would try to remove me just because they thought I could do those things, regardless of the would. Either way, these things tend to blow up in your face after a while. Let's try to avoid that.

  I also needed to watch my innate sense of fair play and kindness. It wasn't gone, though maybe it had been somewhat muted by my anger or even my new form. Night City would try to twist my concerns and punish every act of charity. Especially, if I proceeded thoughtlessly. But in order to be able to help others, I had to be strong enough to deal with any consequences.

  Now admittedly my knowledge of such things comes mostly from movies and a brief interest in politics when I was young and na?ve. So maybe I was missing a few points. Though a few things from my time with Jaina, John and Raynor had sunk in, and I could live with being as minimal an asshole as I could safely get away with. Yet another part of me didn't care about any of it, it just wanted to act.

  I sighed. I'd time to figure this all out. I'd hoped I did anyway. The Company could snatch away my progress again at some point in the future. I doubted they would though, it felt like this heavy-handed maneuver had cost them something, though I had no clue what that might be. Where that intuition came from was unclear, but it was a very strong feeling.

  My mind mostly seemed intact and my previous sense of self mostly preserved, but who could really say?

  I headed back down to the garage, got in my vehicle and drove to Lizzie's.

  Now I wasn't so foolish to park a SUV done up in Tyger Claw colors anywhere near the bar itself. I found a parking lot a couple of blocks over and hiked the rest of the way. In a land of people so keen on altering themselves in every conceivable way, there was many an interesting sight. A few folks, their skin looking like various liquid metals, were holding an impromptu rave. Dancing and laughing like fools. Good for them. In a nearby alley a few gangers were getting their clocks cleaned by some far more ordinary looking folks. Lots of crowbars and tire irons being used to educate the goons of the folly of operating on this block. It brought a chuckle to my throat as it reminded me of my first foray into this town.

  I remembered when it was just me, Scuff, and Fix going after Maelstrom. That was almost a year ago, now. How I missed my little robo buddies. Yet another debt that needed repaying.

  I also recalled the last time I had visited the Mox. I'd promised to look for Saphie. Now six months had passed, and I no longer had access to Observers or Alina. Though, I could talk to some of the Runners from the Afterlife and see what they could dig up. Hmm, perhaps I could hire Sasha to poke around. Or perhaps she could at the very least point me to someone who would take the job.

  What else had I left unfinished?

  As Lizzie's Bar came into view, I heard faintly in the distance, a howl.