Santo Domingo

"Lier, I got the lizard, but I don't really understand why you're interested in it.

Are you planning to copy the lizard's DNA into your cells? That might help, but it still won't solve the problem of your DNA inexplicably breaking down."

Vic voiced his doubts over the phone.

Most of Connors's crazy scientific ideas had already been put into practice in the world of 2077, so he immediately guessed what Lier had in mind.

However, technological development in the world of 2077 had suffered a break in continuity and was essentially stagnant. Phenomena such as telomeres and natural DNA breakdown had been studied, but there was no way to control them.

Perhaps data from the Old Net era had given later generations plenty of inspiration, but they very likely had no idea how those answers had been reached.

"That's why I'm doing my own research. Help me build a biological model of that lizard first. I need it."

"All right... but I'll have to buy equipment. How are you paying?"

Lier checked his account balance: 40,344 eddies.

Not a small sum, but certainly not a large one either.

"Uh... Vic, do you take credit? I'm working on a big job right now..."

"Since you're the only customer planning to replace me, just this once. Worst case, I'll get the money from V. Is she next to you?"

Lier stole a glance at V behind the wheel. "She agreed. I checked her account. She's still got four hundred thousand."

"All right, I'll need some time. This is research equipment we're talking about. It isn't cheap."

After hanging up, Lier turned his attention back to the car. The three of them were riding in the same battered Canary Viper they had brought across the border.

To avoid attracting attention, they had repainted the exterior-though "repainted" really meant splashing a couple of layers of paint over it. They had covered all the bullet holes with cloth.

The car was surprisingly durable. After a battle like that, all they had done was knock one side of the bumper loose.

A piece of sheet metal had flown off the roof, though.

No wonder the car had earned the flattering nickname "a tetanus trap on wheels."

"We should buy a new car," V complained as she drove. "Speaking of which, a car's one of my dreams too. But this much money won't buy a good one, and I don't want a crappy one."

As they drove along the overpass, an NCPD armored patrol vehicle passed on the adjacent roadway.

An Emperor 720, an NCPD-exclusive model. Armored plating, integrated Militech combat technology, and a front bumper as tough as an old ship's ram.

"How about that one?" Lier asked.

"That's a good ride." Jackie leaned eagerly toward the window, watching the armored beast drive away. "Short of cyberpsychosis, that thing can solve any problem!

Too bad we can't buy one. We could try its lower-spec version, the Emperor 620 Ragnar.

It's got a tough frame too. The body panels practically double as armor, and it's got plenty of power. With that suspension, even doing sixty through the Badlands feels like floating on clouds!"

V looked exasperated. "Listen, when I say my dream is to buy a car, I mean something I can show off in. A good-looking sedan-though bulletproof would be best, of course."

"Then it'd have to be a Firmament Hera. Unfortunately, you can only get them secondhand. All the new ones are reserved for the NCPD."

V shot Jackie a surprised look. "Holy shit, you nailed my dream car in one guess. Great minds think alike."

"Heh, I like checking out cars too, but I prefer motorcycles. And right now, I'm more interested in getting a new casing for my gun.

I've already commissioned a gunsmith. A gleaming gold casing, plus a handcrafted muzzle suppressor and rifling... it's gonna be fucking awesome."

Jackie's weapon was a Nue, made by Tsunami Defense Systems. If he swapped in a gold casing...

Lier had a pretty good idea of what the gun Jackie was dreaming of would look like-with a gold casing, it would be the game's "La Chingona Dorada."

After a moment's thought, Lier said, "Once you get that casing, I'll design a new round for you."

"Holy shit, you can do that too? Now I've really got something to look forward to... and a reason to make more money."

Jackie scratched his head, leaving out why the gunsmith hadn't handed it over yet: he hadn't paid the remaining balance.

"But you'd better get used to shotguns and machine guns. We need someone laying down covering fire. We'll be at a disadvantage if we all use pistols."

"No problem. Your buddy here can handle any weapon..."

The car crossed the bridge into Santo Domingo. Compared with the city proper, this place was poor and desolate. Most of Night City's few remaining heavy industries were concentrated here, along with an enormous sewage treatment plant.

Better still, at the easternmost edge of Santo Domingo, there was a massive dam.

On the other side lay a lake of garbage and sewage.

This was far from a region of steady development. Factories closed and new ones went up, only to close again. At any given moment, some factory was going bankrupt while another was being established. Unfinished buildings were everywhere.

Arroyo was Santo Domingo's largest industrial district and home to the Sixth Street headquarters. It even had an old nuclear power plant, though who knew whether it was still running.

"A nuclear power plant..." Lier gazed thoughtfully at the smoke-shrouded industrial district of Arroyo in the distance.

It was no exaggeration to say that, given a little time, he could turn any nuclear power plant into a nuclear bomb. That was his specialty.

But that was an extreme option for an extreme situation.

He couldn't exactly blow up Night City again just for Sixth Street.

The industrial district wasn't their destination. The person they were looking for was on Santo Domingo's easternmost edge, bordering the Badlands-

Colorado the Farm, where Santo Domingo's workers returned home after their shifts.

From here onward... there were no NCPD officers on the streets. Sixth Street had its own order here.

Strangely, though, it was evening, right around shift change, yet there were hardly any people outside.

There were quite a few people lying on the ground waiting to die, however. Everyone else hurried along, as though every second spent on the street burned their feet.

The car slowed, and Lier spotted two Sixth Street newcomers crowding a vendor's stall by the roadside.

"Hey, old man, you haven't paid all your protection money this month. What, you think Sixth Street's guns aren't tough enough anymore? Sneaking out here to set up shop?"

"But... there've been fewer and fewer people lately, and the protection money's gone up too. Last month it was only eight hundred eddies..."

"Who gives a shit if it went up! There's new management here, got it? The bosses put me in charge of you, so you've gotta pay more! Otherwise, what are the guys upstairs gonna think of me?!"

"But I really don't have any money left. If I don't come out here to do business, how am I supposed to pay you?"

"Not my problem. No money, no stall. Now get lost, or I'll feed you a bullet!"

All three people in the car noticed the scene. In fact, everyone walking down the street noticed.

Nobody did anything about it, though.

V remarked with interest, "I heard Sixth Street originally stepped up to protect the community and uphold justice because they couldn't stand the NCPD doing nothing.

They even talked about restoring the old American Constitution..."

Jackie chimed in. "Hey, I heard that too. And that the workers here all consider this place home and never leave their whole lives."

Lier nodded. "In a sense, none of those rumors are wrong. Justice is open to interpretation, and the old American Constitution... well, it was what it was.

As for home..."

This heavily polluted, desolate stretch of Santo Domingo really was the workers' lifelong home.

It might not have looked very nice, and its services were cheap, but it had everything: bars, shops, parks, even schools.

Even with the dazzling lights of Night City just across the river, they might never leave this place in their entire lives. They couldn't, and they had no need to.

Or rather, the high-rises of Watson were Night City, but desolate, chaotic Santo Domingo was Night City too.

"The Rama Arsenal-right over there. How are we doing this?"

The car stopped by the roadside, and V pointed toward a cluster of dilapidated, self-built houses in the distance.

Lier replied, "This place looks like a battlefield in Afghanistan... Jackie and I will go in and talk to Kaplan. You find a way inside and connect to her private database. I'll handle the intrusion.

We need to do this quietly. We can't let Sixth Street find out, or we'll be in serious trouble. We could get shot and still fail to find the information we need.

But we also need to scare Roshan... anyway, go find somewhere to sneak in first."

V got out and chambered a round. "All right... Jackie, stick with him. You'll have to handle the intimidating."

"No problem... but what's a battlefield in Afghanistan?"

"Who knows?" V shrugged. "That's how this guy is. Always saying things nobody understands."

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