Welcome back to the second part of my Cyberpunk solo RPG campaign using the TinyD6 ruleset and Mythic GME 2nd Edition. I hope you like the playthrough so far.
Scene #5 – I’ll take you at your word, Ms. Chambers
Megabuilding H04, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-09-2078, 14:10
The sunlight filtering through the grime-streaked window of her apartment felt like an insult. Charm woke slowly, reluctantly, the remnants of a fitful sleep clinging to her like cheap perfume. She was still sprawled across her futon, clad in nothing but a grey tank top with a faded band logo and threadbare boxer shorts. The lingering exhaustion pressed down on her, a heavy weight compounded by the unsettling memories of the previous night’s discovery regarding Project Echelon.
Her comms unit buzzed, shattering the fragile stillness. A familiar number flashed across the screen: Mr. Rooks. She answered the call with a sigh that bordered on a growl. “Rooks.” “Charm,” Rooks’ voice was smooth, oily, like expensive lubricant applied to rusty gears. “Just checking in on progress. The chip – everything wiped clean as requested?”
Charm responded with a deliberate lack of enthusiasm. “Wiped. Everything gone.” It wasn’t a question, more an acknowledgement. She could practically feel his gaze boring into her through the comms link. “Excellent,” Rooks continued, his voice laced with a subtle expectation. “Can you provide proof? A confirmation that the data is truly irretrievable?”
Charm let out a short, humorless laugh. “Sure. I can send you the chip. Or, if you don’t need it anymore, I’ll happily vaporize it myself. Save you the trouble.” The offer was laced with a thinly veiled challenge; she didn’t want to be associated with this job any longer than necessary.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, likely Rooks processing her tone. “Actually,” he said finally, his voice regaining its polished composure, “I might need it for verification purposes. Just to ensure complete erasure.”
Charm’s jaw tightened. This was getting tedious. “And what exactly did you think was on the chip, Mr. Rooks? A shopping list?” Rooks ignored her sarcasm. “Did you happen to… examine the contents before wiping them?” The question hung in the air, thick with suspicion and veiled threat.
Charm’s response was immediate and sharp enough to cut through steel. “Am I a professional or a total Gonk? Because that’s exactly what professionals don’t do. I wiped the data. That’s it. No peeking.” She emphasized the last two words with a venomous edge. The fact of her delving into the contents of a chip she was hired to erase felt like a violation of her own self-preservation instincts, not to mention a blatant breach of professional ethics – as much as those existed in Night City.
She could practically hear Rooks’ internal gears grinding. “Right,” he conceded finally, his voice noticeably colder now. “Of course. My mistake.” There was a distinct lack of apology in the statement.
She tossed her comms unit onto the cluttered desk with a frustrated thud. The whole situation felt wrong, unsettling. Rooks’ sudden interest in the chip’s contents suggested there was more to this gig than she initially thought – and that whatever it contained was worth protecting. Project Echelon kept flashing through her mind, the fragmented data points coalescing into a disturbing picture of something large-scale and potentially dangerous.
She glanced at the window again, the sunlight was painting streaks across her skin. She needed to dig deeper, despite Rooks’ warning – or rather, his thinly veiled instruction not to.
Scene #6 – Javier again!
Megabuilding H04, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-09-2078, 16:23
Most of the files on the data chip were locked down tighter than Fort Knox, encrypted with algorithms she didn’t recognize. A standard decryption program wouldn’t even scratch the surface; she needed something serious, something that could chew through layers of security like a cybernetic termite. That meant a trip to Japantown and a visit to “Whisper,” her go-to dealer for… specialized software.
She pulled on a pair of worn cargo pants and a faded hoodie, opting for casual anonymity as she left the cramped confines of Megabuilding H4. The Del Coronado Overpass North was a concrete artery pulsing with the city’s grime and desperation. As she walked, her comms unit chimed – Rooks had finally transferred the 5000 eddies. A surge of possibility shot through her, quickly followed by a dose of reality. Wheels. She’d dreamt of owning a sleek ARCH Nazaré or a powerful Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X for so long, but those were fantasies for corpos and high rollers. Her budget barely stretched to a used Makigai MaiMai P126 with a particularly offensive vomit-green paint job.
The thought of the MaiMai’s sluggish acceleration and questionable reliability brought her up short. Walking and the NCART were far more practical, and honestly, less likely to attract unwanted attention. Besides, chasing after a dream bike wasn’t going to unlock those encrypted files. Japantown awaited, and Whisper had what she needed – for the right price, of course.
Whisper’s shop was an anomaly amidst the grimy sprawl of Japantown. Hichigo Kanzaki Street, usually a haven for cheap noodles and knock-off tech, held this pocket of curated elegance – polished chrome displays showcasing rare cybernetics and bespoke software. Whisper himself, draped in silk robes despite the oppressive humidity, greeted her with a knowing nod.
“Charm,” he murmured, his voice smooth as polished jade. “Always a pleasure. What digital puzzle requires solving today?” Charm came closer and leaned over the counter. “Asymmetric key set,” she stated bluntly, “Something that can crack a quite tenacious encryption. I need it done fast and clean.”
Whisper’s lips curved into a predatory smile. He produced a sleek data cube from behind the counter. “This little beauty will do nicely.” The transaction was swift; 800 eddies vanished from her account, swallowed by Whisper’s exorbitant prices.
Cherry Blossom Market, Japantown, Westbrook – 12-09-2078, 18:52
Charm didn’t waste time on pleasantries. Back in the relative anonymity of the street, she plugged the cube directly into her cyberdeck and initiated the installation. Lines of code cascaded across her vision as the program integrated itself seamlessly with her system. The decryption process began, a silent hum resonating within her deck.
She leaned against a nearby wall, letting the program work its magic. Japantown buzzed around her – neon signs bled into the rain-slicked streets. She decided to wander, absorbing the sights and sounds until the job was done, hoping that whatever secrets lay hidden within those encrypted files wouldn’t lead her down a path she couldn’t escape.
The aroma of rich broth and savory pork filled the small Ramen shop, a welcome distraction from the relentless hum of Night City. Charm slid onto a stool at the counter, gesturing for a bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen – extra spicy. The noodles were perfectly chewy, the broth a comforting warmth against the damp air. As she ate, her gaze drifted to the massive screen hovering over Broad Road, broadcasting the latest news and entertainment. Tonight’s headlines screamed about corporate mergers and gangland turf wars, but it was the Body Lottery results that truly captured the attention of everyone on the street.
Her comms unit buzzed, pulling her back from her observations. It was Javier Gómez, his voice laced with an unusual urgency. “Charm, listen babe. I got something you need to hear. Something about Rooks. You gotta come down to Hysteria tonight. Got info that could save your cute ass. Thank me later.”
A knot tightened in Charm’s stomach. Rooks? Save her ass? That didn’t sound good. “What is it, Javier?” she asked cautiously. “Can’t tell you over the line. Just… be there around 2300 hours. Hysteria. Don’t bring anyone.” The call ended abruptly, leaving a lingering sense of unease in its wake.
She finished her Ramen quickly, the taste now slightly tainted by apprehension. The decryption algorithm was making progress – albeit slowly. 7% complete, with an estimated seven hours remaining. Seven hours until she knew what Mr. Rooks wanted kept secret. It felt like an eternity.
“Alright,” she muttered to herself, pushing away from the counter. “Watson it is.” She decided a little retail therapy was exactly what she needed to clear her head – and maybe find something new to wear. Little China in Watson was always a good bet for finding unique gear, even if most of it was slightly questionable quality.
Ferris Boulevard, Little China, Watson – 12-09-2078, 21:03
The walk across the city was a sensory overload – flashing neon signs, Tekiya peddling their wares, and the constant drone of traffic filled the air. She navigated the crowded streets with practiced ease, her senses on high alert. Little China was a labyrinthine warren of stalls and shops overflowing with everything from cheap cybernetics to knock-off designer clothing.
She spent the next few hours browsing through the various offerings, eventually settling on a used Arasaka polycarbonate-laced bulletproof aramid vest – practical and stylish – and a pair of mirrored shades that would obscure her expression perfectly. The shopkeeper, a wiry man with a network of scars crisscrossing his face, eyed her with suspicion but quickly warmed up when she flashed the transaction of eddies.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the streets of Watson, Charm checked the decryption algorithm again. Still only 58% complete. Seven hours felt like an eternity, and now she had a rendezvous with Javier in Hysteria looming over her. The thought of Rooks being involved – and Javier’s cryptic warning – sent another shiver down her spine. Whatever he was hiding, it clearly warranted a trip to the less-than-savory district of Hysteria.
Scene #7 – Hysteria
Hysteria Bar, Little China, Watson – 12-09-2078, 23:00
The neon glow of Hysteria bled onto the rain-slicked pavement, painting the scene in a lurid, unsettling light. Charm arrived precisely at 23:00, but the sight that greeted her wasn’t what she expected – it was a maelstrom of flashing lights, shouting voices, and a palpable sense of dread hanging heavy in the air. A dense crowd had gathered around a police cordon blocking access to a narrow alleyway adjacent to the club, their faces illuminated by the harsh glare of NCPD floodlights.
Pushing her way through the throng with a surge of adrenaline, Charm managed to squeeze past enough onlookers to get a clear view of what was happening in the alley. The scene that unfolded before her stole the air from her lungs. There, sprawled amidst scattered debris and pools of rainwater, lay a body. It took only a moment for recognition to slam into her with brutal force – it was Javier Gómez.
The grim tableau was punctuated by the clipped tones of NCPD officers. “REO Meatwagon still operational?” one asked his colleague, his voice devoid of emotion. “Someone needs to clear this mess.” The casual indifference in his tone only amplified the horror of the situation.
A wave of nausea washed over Charm. This couldn’t be happening. Javier… dead? It was impossible. Just hours ago, he’d been urgently summoning her with information about Rooks. A cold certainty began to solidify in her mind: this wasn’t random; it was a direct consequence of that intel.
No, she thought frantically, it can’t be a coincidence! Javier called because of Rooks, and now he’s dead? The pieces clicked together with terrifying clarity – someone wanted to silence him, and likely, they were connected to whatever information he had about Mr. Rooks and his client.
She desperately tried to get closer, to examine the scene, to glean any clue as to what had killed Javier. But the crowd pressed in on her, a wall of faces obscuring her view. She could see glimpses – a dark stain spreading across his crisp white shirt, the unnatural angle of his neck – but nothing concrete. The rain continued to fall, washing away potential evidence and blurring the already chaotic scene.
“All belongings will be taken to precinct #4 in Little China,” one officer announced, his voice amplified by the surrounding noise. “Onlookers are asked to disperse.”
Suddenly, a hand clamped down on her arm, startling her from her horrified contemplation. A tall, imposing NCPD officer with a stern face and cybernetic enhancements around his eyes was attempting to push back the crowd, creating space for his colleagues to work. His grip was firm, professional, but it felt like an unwelcome intrusion into her personal nightmare.
Charm looked up at him, her mind reeling, as if waking from a disturbing dream. The reality of Javier’s death slammed into her with renewed force. She had to get out of here. Now.
Panic surged through her veins, overriding any rational thought. Without a word, she shoved past the officer, ignoring his startled grunt, and plowed through the remaining onlookers. The crowd parted before her like water as she moved with a desperate urgency, fueled by fear and a growing sense of dread. She spotted an opening, a narrow alleyway leading away from the main street, and dove into it without hesitation.
The darkness swallowed her whole.
She stumbled for a moment, regaining her balance as she navigated the labyrinthine alleyways behind Hysteria. Her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst free. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the faces in the crowd, desperately trying to ensure that no one had noticed her escape. The officer’s gaze felt like it was burning into her back.
She pressed on, deeper into the maze of alleys, until she reached a point where she could no longer see or hear the commotion surrounding Javier’s death. She leaned against a damp brick wall, gasping for breath, trying to slow the frantic pounding of her heart. The decryption algorithm on her cyberdeck flashed in her optics intermittently – 73% complete. Seventy-three percent closer to uncovering whatever secret Rooks was so desperate to protect, and now, it seemed, someone was willing to kill to keep it buried.
The realization hit her with a chilling clarity: she was now a target. Javier’s death wasn’t just a tragedy; it was a warning. She had stumbled onto something dangerous, something that powerful people wanted to remain hidden. And now, she was caught in the crosshairs.
She checked her reflection in a grimy window – her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with fear. She had to disappear. She needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to analyze what Javier knew about Rooks, and figure out how to stay alive long enough to do it.
Scene #8 – Are you alright?
Joshua Street, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-10-2078, 08:24
The next day dawned grey and oppressive over Night City, mirroring the knot of anxiety tightening in Charm’s gut. She walked along 2nd, heading towards Wollesen Street metro station, her movements deliberately casual despite the heightened state of alert she couldn’t shake off. Every shadow seemed to hold a potential threat, every passing vehicle a possible ambush. Javier’s death had painted the world in shades of paranoia.
She was halfway across Joshua Street when it happened – a sharp crack that sliced through the ambient noise of Arroyo. Charm reacted instinctively, she dove behind a parked car, pressing herself against its cold metal frame. The world seemed to slow down for a heartbeat as a searing pain erupted in her left arm.
She glanced down and saw it – a crimson bloom spreading across the sleeve of her jacket, quickly darkening with each pulse of blood. A burning sensation ran through her nerve system, radiating outwards from the wound. She’d been hit. It wasn’t a ricochet shot; this was aimed… badly.
Another crack echoed through the street, followed by the sickening sound of glass shattering. The window of the hovercar she was hiding behind exploded inwards in a shower of shards. This wasn’t some random act of violence; it was targeted, deliberate. Someone wanted her silenced.
And then, a blessed sound – the wail of a siren, growing louder with each passing second. The unmistakable horn of an NCPD police cruiser blared around the corner, its blue and red lights cutting through the gloom. Charm had never been so happy to hear that noise in her life.
A woman emerged from the vehicle, her face framed by the flashing lights. She was a tall, imposing figure with sleek blonde hair. The officer knelt down beside Charm, her expression professional but concerned. “Are you alright? Can you talk?” she asked, her voice calm amidst the chaos.
“I… I think so,” Charm managed to stammer out, clutching her arm. “Got shot.”
“We need to get you medical attention,” the officer said firmly. “There’s a Medpoint on Brandon Street, just a few meters from here. Let’s go.” She signaled to another officer who quickly secured the area and began gathering evidence.
The officer introduced herself as Officer Denysivna – a name that sounded vaguely Slavic, fitting her strong features and direct gaze. Charm couldn’t deny that Officer Denysivna was quite hot; a rare splash of beauty amidst the grime of what is the NCPD. Officer Denysivna guided her to the Medpoint, ensuring she received prompt attention.
Medpoint, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-10-2078, 09:51
Within an hour, Charm was patched up, the bleeding stemmed, and a pressure bandage secured around her arm. The doctor assured her it wasn’t life-threatening but warned that she’d need to monitor it for infection. As she sat in the more or less sterile waiting room, replaying the events of the morning in her mind, a chilling realization solidified within her. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attempt on her life.
There was no other logical explanation. Someone wanted to silence her, likely because of what she knew about Rooks and her own investigation about Project Echelon. The fact that they were willing to risk exposing themselves with such a brazen attack confirmed the seriousness of the situation.
The incident had stripped away any remaining illusions of safety. Night City wasn’t just dangerous; it was actively hunting her. Charm glanced at her arm. The game had escalated, and now, survival depended on staying one step ahead of whoever wanted to see her silenced. She needed to find out who was behind this, and fast, before they made another attempt – or worse.
Scene #9 – One hell of a sad story
NCPD Precinct 4, Little China, Watson – 12-10-2078, 12:14
The adrenaline of narrowly escaping an assassination attempt hadn’t fully subsided, but it had morphed into a cold, focused determination. Charm knew she couldn’t just lay low; she needed answers, and fast. Javier Gómez’s death wasn’t just a tragedy; it was a potential goldmine of information – the key to understanding who wanted him silenced and why. She suspected he’d been carrying something, some piece of evidence that had made him a target. And she intended to find it before anyone else did.
The NCPD precinct in Little China loomed before her, a monolithic structure of concrete and steel reflecting the grey sky above. It was a fortress designed to keep secrets in, and Charm out. She knew getting Javier’s belongings out would be like pulling teeth from a shark. She considered her options: brute force was out of the question; she wasn’t equipped for a direct confrontation with law enforcement… and it was also not her style. Persuasion? Maybe, but the circumstances were too sensitive, the stakes too high.
She spotted an information terminal tucked away near the entrance, partially obscured by a dumpster. No one seemed to notice her as she quickly connected, fingers flying across the keypad. It took longer than she’d hoped; NCPD security protocols weren’t exactly known for being lax, but after several frustrating attempts and a few close calls with automated firewalls, she managed to establish a connection.
With painstaking precision, she rerouted the terminal’s signal, subtly piggybacking on the precinct’s internal network. It was a delicate thing – too much change would trigger alarms; too little, and she’d be locked out. She made small, almost imperceptible adjustments to the database indexing system, creating a temporary blind spot for certain records. The goal wasn’t to erase anything, just to create an opportunity, a window of vulnerability.
Taking a deep breath, Charm straightened her jacket and entered the precinct. The air inside was thick with the smell of stale coffee and bureaucratic indifference. She found a seat near a row of desks manned by weary-looking officers, trying to project an image of quiet desperation. A middle-aged officer with thinning hair and a perpetually tired expression eventually noticed her.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice devoid of enthusiasm.
Charm adopted a posture of feigned shyness, lowering her gaze slightly. “Yes, please,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I received a call last night. They told me my cousin, Javier Gómez, had passed away.” She paused, letting the emotion – or at least the appearance of it – wash over her face. “He was killed. I just wanted to see if there were any personal belongings they’d recovered that I could… collect.”
The officer regarded her with a skeptical look, but Charm held his gaze, maintaining her act. He seemed to soften slightly, perhaps recognizing the genuine grief she was portraying. “That’s… unfortunate,” he said, his tone marginally less abrasive. “Sit over there,” he gestured towards another chair near his desk. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Charm settled into the designated seat, her mind racing. While she waited, a notification popped up on her wrist-mounted comm – a message from her cyberdeck: “Decryption Complete.” The algorithm had finally cracked it. All the files from the Network 54 data chip were now fully accessible. A surge of relief mixed with apprehension coursed through her veins. Whatever was on that chip, she would know soon enough.
She watched the officer’s fingers dance across his keyboard, ostensibly verifying her claim about being Javier Gómez’s cousin. The subtle alterations she made to the database held; no red flags popped up on his screen. It seemed her digital sleight of hand had bought her a crucial advantage in this deadly game.
The officer returned a few minutes later, carrying a plain cardboard box. “Here’s what we recovered,” he said, placing the box on the desk. “Not much, mostly personal effects. A wallet, some photos… standard stuff.” He avoided eye contact, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Charm barely suppressed a smile as she reached for the box. “Thank you so much,” she said, her voice laced with gratitude. “I really appreciate it.” She quickly grabbed the box and headed towards the exit, navigating through the maze of corridors without attracting any further attention.
Outside, under the oppressive grey sky, Charm opened the box. Inside were a few crumpled photographs – Javier smiling with friends and family – a worn leather wallet containing a Credstick and his SIN, and a small data chip.
She quickly slipped the chip into a secure pocket in her jacket. The contents of that chip were now hers to analyze. She glanced back at the precinct, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. She’d managed to acquire what she needed, and now she was playing with a full deck of cards, facing an opponent who clearly had more than enough resources to play dirty.
Scene #10 – Let’s see what we have here
2nd Street, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-10-2078, 17:38
Arroyo was living up to its reputation; the air crackled with tension as she turned onto 2nd Street. The usual low hum of illicit trade and desperation was amplified by something more immediate – a full-blown turf war erupting between the 6th Street Gang and a splinter faction of the Scavengers known as the Rust Dogs.
Shots cracked overhead, followed by the screech of metal on concrete as scav vehicles careened through the streets. Charm cursed under her breath. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in this mess; she had data to process and a growing sense of dread gnawing at her.
Instinct took over. She dropped low, hugging the shadows between overflowing dumpsters and makeshift stalls. Each step was calculated, each movement designed to minimize exposure. A stray bullet ricocheted off the wall inches from her head, sending a jolt through her system. She ducked into a narrow alleyway, the stench of decay almost overwhelming.
She weaved through the chaos, leaping over overturned debris and dodging bursts of gunfire. The sounds of shouting and explosions echoed around her as she moved like a ghost through the urban battlefield, utilizing every shadow and corner to her advantage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spotted the familiar, imposing silhouette of Megabuilding H04 looming ahead.
With a final surge of adrenaline, she sprinted towards the entrance, slipping inside just as another volley of shots ripped through the air behind her. She needed to get online and start sifting through both data chips – Javier’s secrets and Network 54’s files – before whatever was brewing in Night City swallowed her whole.
Megabuilding H04, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-10-2078, 17:54
The oppressive grey of Arroyo seemed to cling even inside her cramped apartment in Megabuilding H04. Charm shed her damp clothes, discarding them onto the pile already accumulating on the floor. A ridiculous grin spread across her face as she pulled on a faded shark onesie – a relic from a particularly bleak period when she’d needed to feel something other than despair. It was childish, absurd, and exactly what she needed right now.
Settling onto her futon, she secured the VR headset over her head. The familiar hum of the system filled her ears as she jacked into her cyberdeck. First, Javier’s chip. She initiated the decryption protocols, a wave of anticipation washing over her. The initial scans revealed… data corruption. Several files were flagged as damaged beyond repair, their data scrambled and useless. A frustrating setback, but not unexpected in this line of work.
Charm’s fingers danced across the virtual keyboard; when it came to computers, she knew exactly what she was doing. She an aspiring student at NCU, with a natural talent for computer science and data forensics. Her father, leveraging his position as a lawyer at Arasaka, had secured her an internship – a prestigious opportunity that showcased her potential early on.
Moving on, she stumbled upon something entirely different: a Braindance. It was jarringly idyllic – a romantic journey aboard a luxury cruise ship, bathed in the golden light of an artificial sunset. Charm chuckled, a wry smile playing on her lips. “Oh, Javier… I would never have thought that!” she mumbled to herself, shaking her head at the unexpected glimpse into his personal “preferences”. It was a stark contrast to the grim reality of his death.
But then, buried deep within the fragmented data, she found it – a thread leading directly to Rooks. The information was sparse but damning: encrypted communications logs indicating he wasn’t operating independently. He worked for Kang Tao, the monolithic Chinese weapons manufacturer. A chill ran down Charm’s spine. Kang Tao had fingers in every pie in Night City… ruthless bastards. This wasn’t just about a silenced informant; it was something far bigger, something that could shake the foundations of Night City itself. The shark onesie suddenly felt a lot less comforting.
The revelation about Rooks and Kang Tao left a bitter taste in Charm’s mouth. She needed something, anything, to cut through the rising tension. Pushing herself up from the futon, she shuffled towards what she affectionately called “Kitchen” – a corner of her apartment dedicated to sustenance, mostly consisting of nutrient paste and heavily processed snacks. Spotting a pack of cherry-flavored Kibbles, she ripped it open with a satisfying tear and tossed it back onto the futon beside her.
Reclining once more, headset still firmly in place, Charm switched her focus to the data chip stolen from Network 54. This one felt…different. Less personal, more clinical. The initial scan revealed a trove of video recordings – she’d save those for later; analyzing them would require dedicated time. What caught her attention were the documents, dense blocks of text detailing something far more sinister.
It spoke of a dormant malware or virus, hinting at devastating potential. There were mentions of “propagation vectors,” “self-replication protocols,” and phrases like “dormant until activation.” Then came the employee database – a meticulously detailed list of Kang Tao personnel, categorized by department and project assignment. Each entry included cryptic comments; designations like “Alpha Team – Project Nightingale” or “Beta Division – Neural Interface Development.”
A name jumped out at her: “Project Echelon.” The designation was followed by a string of encrypted notes that she couldn’t immediately decipher. A sudden, unsettling realization dawned on Charm. Could this be the same thing? Was this dormant piece of code, this potential weaponized malware, Project Echelon?
To be continued…
Thank you for following the story so far. I hope to see you back next week!
