This day was garbage.Barely any sleep st night, and way too much work today. Still… at least I managed to get a date for tomorrow. Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.Damn, I’m so tired. I’m going to bed. It’s Saturday tomorrow—can’t be that bad. And honestly? I’m kind of excited. That girl was hot.

  There was nothing special about getting ready for bed.Shirt off. Pants off. Shoes off. And he dropped straight onto the bed. With how exhausted he was, falling asleep didn’t take long.The moment he closed his eyes, he sank into a deep, heavy sleep.

  But the next morning, he didn’t wake up to birds chirping like usual.It wasn’t the heat or the sweat that pulled him back to reality either.It was noise. City noise. Louder than anything he was used to.

  Grumpy and annoyed, he jumped out of bed without even looking around. He stormed to the window and shouted:“Shut the fuck up, dammit! It’s Saturday—respect people’s sleep!”

  But... what he saw wasn’t his neighborhood.Not even close.

  This wasn’t his street.Not his city.Hell, not even his house.

  It didn’t take long to realize where he was.Night City.

  Panicking, he stumbled back and crashed to the floor, his eyes darting wildly around the unfamiliar room.This wasn’t his bedroom.Not even close.

  He rushed to find a mirror—and what stared back wasn’t his face.

  “What the hell is this?! What’s going on?!”He backed away, voice shaking, eyes wide.

  “No, no, no… this can’t be real. Not here. Anywhere but here. This is worse than a third-world country!”

  He was in shock. Completely overwhelmed.What the hell was he supposed to do in a pce like this?

  Still panicking, he clutched his head in frustration.That’s when he saw it—A notebook on the table.

  With no other choice, he grabbed it.

  He needed answers.

  What happened?Who am I?And how the hell do I survive here?

  Inside the notebook, he found a list of completed jobs—each one marked with a check and a payment next to it.11,600. 2,500. 200. 45,000.

  Before he could think too hard about it, his screen lit up—Incoming call: Viktor Vektor.

  That name... it sounded familiar. Really familiar.Without thinking too much, he answered.

  “Yo. Hope you didn’t forget 'bout that gig, Nova. Client was actin’ like I’m some kind of middleman. Had to remind ‘em—I’m a ripperdoc, not a fixer.But hey, since I got your contact, figured I’d help out this once.Simple impnt job, shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “What? Vik? What are you talking about? I—I don’t—”

  “Knew it. You forgot, didn’t you? Doesn’t matter. Just callin’ to let you know I can’t make it Monday at the agreed time. Got held up.Can we do 5 p.m. instead?”

  “Monday... uh... yeah, sure—just a second—”

  Still confused, he flipped to the st page of the notebook.There it was, written down clearly:

  “Viktor Vektor – Audio Recorder Impnt – Monday 2 p.m.”

  “Right... the recorder. Yeah, 5 p.m. works.”

  “Didn’t expect less from the great Nova Stray, ha.We’re good then. Catch you ter.”

  The call ended.His mind was racing.

  Nova Stray. That was his name now?He started to explore the apartment, trying to piece things together.

  In one room, he found a workspace. Full of cyberware components, microchips, tools, parts he didn’t even recognize—Or… actually, he did.He understood them. Instinctively.

  “So this is what I do... guess it’s buried somewhere in my head.”

  Curious, he sat at the worktable.In front of him, the impnt Viktor mentioned.Without overthinking, he got to work.

  Hands steady.Movements precise.Everything flowed naturally, like he’d been doing this his whole life.

  “Guess I am a natural… but who am I, really? Where’s my info?”

  He blinked and focused—instinctively activating a digital interface.It popped up in front of him.

  Name: Nova StrayAge: 19Occupation: Techie – Cyberware Repair & CraftingAffiliation: NoneRecord: CleanSkills: None ListedCyberware Installed: Basic Kiroshi Optics (1)Certification: ApprovedHistory: Empty

  “Alright... clean record. That’s something.Guess I’ll grab something to eat.”

  Wandering around the apartment to get a feel for this “new life,” he stumbled upon a jacket.Bck, with red accents.The back had a bzing logo: SAMURAI.

  There were clothes. Games.Stacks of eddies.

  But he knew better than to blow it all at once.This wasn’t just py money.

  He had a business.One that looked like it was doing fine…But staying afloat in Night City? That took more than just a few lucky gigs.

  And if he went broke, getting back up wouldn't be easy.