NEUROJANK

CYBERPUNK 2077 delivers an incredible setting undermined by an onslaught of bugs.

- James Davenport

I’m on an aimless walking tour of Night City. Somehow I’ve ended up in the Japantown neighbourhood’s Arasaka-financed streets, where animated billboards for ‘Sweet Clean Speed’ and pornographic braindances climb the flanks of utilitarian skyscrapers, blotting out the stars with a rainbow of neon. I pass a ramen shop, a hot dog stand, and a man selling spice, piles of garbage tucked beneath the offramp behind him. A mob of Christians gather at a nearby intersection, screaming “Blasphemers!” at the cops.

A voice makes booming proclamations in Japanese from loudspeakers overhead, flying cars crisscross the invisible roads between buildings. The sky glows with light pollution, but the moon is full and clear. It’s a beautiful night.

I just left Judy Alvarez’s place. My friend’s been through a lot lately. Someone close to her has been victim to a string of horrors. We had a big heart-to-heart, undermined by the presence of arm-knife crosshairs fixed on her forehead even though I put my arm-knives away earlier (I’m polite like that). There was also the notification from that fancy sniper rifle I picked up 20 minutes ago somehow still hanging around.

But hey, Judy’s not perfect either. I’ve seen her clip through chairs and float across the room while confessing something deeply personal. And yet, I am duty-bound to stick through the bugs for my friend. I genuinely care for her.

She’s on my mind while I continue my walk. A streetlamp floats in the air, its base failing to load. A busker plays an invisible guitar. The facade of a skyscraper flickers. I call my car and it arrives, clipping through a barrier. Should I call Judy, see if she’s hanging in there?