Absolutely — here is Chapter 1 completely redone from scratch, clean, poli
Chapter 1 — Rebecca?!
"Damn it… Johnny's gone. Panam, Judy… all of them."
"I, V, am just a nobody lost in Night City."
The voice echoed like a fading dream.
—
"Rox! Stop dozing off — get up and drink!"
A sharp slap of pain exploded in Rox's skull. Hangover, dehydration, and dizziness stormed through him all at once. His stomach turned upside down.
What the hell…?
Wasn't I just doing a Cyberpunk 2077 walkthrough?
Did I… cross over?
He spat out the sour beer burning his throat. His vision steadied — and the first thing he saw was a guy sitting across from him, perched on a paint bucket. Fluorescent paint splattered across military pants, cybernetic plates tattooed with snarling dogs, chrome exposed under torn fabric.
A Ghost Hound.
Data abruptly blinked across Rox's field of vision like a system UI overlay:
> [Name: Zilf Seno]
[Affiliation: Dogtown]
[Affection: 40 — "Swore we were brothers for life yesterday. Lying bastard."]
[Development Value: For degenerates only.]
[Stage Reward — Reach 50 Affection: +1 Body | Gear: 'Sweat-Stained Military Gloves']
Rox's face twitched.
What kind of cursed system was this?
The beast of a man in front of him lifted his beer with a concave cyber-eye socket glowing with twin red points — eerie and predatory. The chrome looked like it had been ripped from corpses.
The ground lurched violently.
Rox finally realized he was in a moving armored cargo truck, sealed interior packed with top-grade weapon crates. Corporate supply convoy. No doubt.
He and Seno were the hired muscle escorting it back to Dogtown.
Trying to steady himself, Rox looked down at his right arm — a full cybernetic prosthetic. The steel fingers flexed smoothly with a soft mechanical grind, joint servos humming.
Too real. Too detailed.
Humans can build something like this?
His HUD shifted:
> [Body: 5]
[Reflexes: 3]
[Tech: 1]
[Intelligence: 3]
[Cool: 4]
Yeah — definitely not some legendary merc.
"You crashin' again? Chrome rejection?" Seno narrowed his eyes.
"No. I'm just done drinking. I give up."
"You fraggin' lightweight—"
Before Seno finished, a violent metallic screech erupted from the rear of the container.
"What the hell was that?"
Rox grabbed the rifle at his side. Muscle memory not his own took over — smooth, practiced motion, racking a round into the chamber.
> [Weapon: Arasaka 'Nowaki' — Kinetic Assault Rifle]
Seno crouched low, creeping toward the noise.
Something was off.
Too quiet. Too wrong.
"Move!" Rox roared.
A split-second later, an explosion tore the truck apart.
The vehicle slammed its brakes — crates rocketed across the container like missiles.
"Shit!"
The truck tilted violently — Seno disappeared under falling crates.
Rox's cyber-arm crackled with electrical discharge as he slammed the emergency hatch release.
The back door blew open — and the next moment, he was airborne.
CRASH
He smashed into burning asphalt, synthetic skin scraping off, alerts screaming across his HUD — fractures, lacerations, pain overload.
Damn it… I'm gonna die—
WAKE. UP.
A surge of combat hormones slammed into his bloodstream, pain editor forcing his body to move. He rolled behind a rock as bullets shredded the dirt around him.
A round grazed his scalp — his cyber-eye instantly locked onto a shooter.
Rox raised his rifle and fired back, advancing from cover to cover.
"Kill them all! Don't let those mongrels escape!"
A massive tank of a man with Contra-style hair shoved a shotgun into a Ghost Hound's face and pulled the trigger — chrome and bone burst apart.
Beside him, a mohawked brute with monstrous chrome arms hurled grenades that blew apart the rest of the squad.
"Maine! Maine!"
Rox froze.
Maine? As in "Edgerunner Maine"!?
Gunfire intensified — bullets punched straight through the rock behind him.
A combat vehicle covered in graffiti screeched to a stop beside him, rooftop machine gun roaring nonstop.
"MOVE IT, CHOOMB! GET IN!"
Seno, drenched in blood and with one arm dangling uselessly, kicked the door open.
Rox threw himself into the passenger seat. Rock music screamed through shattered speakers. He leaned out the window, firing nonstop, suppressing hijackers behind the wrecked convoy.
"The cargo!" Rox shouted.
"The cargo—? Screw the cargo!" Seno barked. "We live first!"
He wasn't wrong.
Dead men don't haul shipments.
The vehicle drifted hard, tires spraying sand, speeding away from the ambush.
"We're good!" Seno yelled.
Maine tapped his comm implant.
"Rebecca — those two idiots are yours."
"Okay, okay."
A petite girl stood on a sun-scorched rock, twin ponytails whipping wildly in the desert wind. She hefted a gun that was nearly larger than she was — lean, lethal.
HUD flicker:
> [Character: Rebecca]
[Affiliation: Night City]
[Affection: –10 — "She's seconds from turning you into swiss cheese."]
[Potential: Extreme — Future Legend]
[Reward: ???]
Rox's breath stopped.
Rebecca. The Rebecca.
A living legend. Standing right in front of him.
He leaned out of the window, unleashing fire to force her toward cover as Seno armed missiles.
Explosions tore through the battlefield.
A bullet punctured the tire — they skidded wildly but sped off into the horizon.
Rebecca dropped to the dirt, dusty and furious, staring after the retreating vehicle.
"Seriously… how the hell did that guy know my name?"