Chapter 23

The serious talk—about Jugra becoming our fixer and us coming under her umbrella—wrapped up quickly. Honestly, the mood had already started softening somewhere around the techy, research-paper-like part of the conversation.

In fact, the atmosphere in the container house had become warm and relaxed, more like we were hosting Jugra after a long time away.

As we started setting out juice, beer, snacks, and various dishes on the table, Jugra watched us with a very gentle look in her eyes.

Usually, her eyes are like winter. But just this once, they were like spring. I was thinking that when Rebecca elbowed me.

Alright, alright. I’ll go get the special stash from the top shelf.

Basically, with Jugra’s jobs, as long as the objective is achieved, everything else is up to us. Every now and then, she brings back spoils of war too.

Among those are a few things I set aside specifically for Jugra—our top client and, well, someone who happens to really like Japanese stuff.

This time, I pulled out a sponge cake called castella. It’s kind of like a chiffon cake, but with a rustic sweetness. A dessert that feels distinctly Japanese.

When she saw it, Jugra’s expression relaxed in a way she never normally shows. She looked like she was genuinely looking forward to having it placed on a plate.

…For some reason, Rebecca stared at her with her mouth wide open in shock. What’s up with her?

True, Jugra’s usual vibe is eighty percent salt and tsun, but the twenty percent dere she shows when her guard is down? It’s lethal.

Ever since I realized Jugra was a woman, the vague masculine filter I had on her vanished. Seeing her occasional girlish expressions as a tomboyish girl has really been wrecking my preferences.

But well, after seeing it a few times, the cuteness and beauty give way to something more wholesome.

It’s like… knowing a long-time friend so well that you’re familiar with their usual quirks better than anyone.

“By the way, this castella’s source is Tyger Claws.”

“Oh yeah? So, castella is a Western confection that came from Portugal to Nagasaki, Japan, and then got ‘Japanified’ into something like a wagashi hybrid. It’s fluffy like chiffon but emphasizes the simple sweetness of the ingredients… or at least it’s supposed to. This one’s a knockoff. How the hell can a fork stand upright in something this thin? What is this, a brick?”

“Yeah, figured. Imported stuff’s expensive and doesn’t keep well, so most people just eat it themselves.”

“Speaking of which, how does Jugra feel about getting assignments to beat the crap out of the Tiger Claws or knock off their leaders?”

“Hmm? …Ugh, this one’s like a cookie. Even the ingredients are off. It’s just the appearance. Honestly, I don’t care either way. I’ve got a debt to Wakako-san, so I fly the Tiger Claws banner for her. I don’t feel anything for the gang itself. Otherwise, no way I’d have a dragon tattoo implant on my back.”

With that, Jugra started feeding the castella-lookalike to Rebecca.

Right, I almost forgot—she’s actually kind of picky about food. If she doesn’t like it, she won’t eat it.

Watching Rebecca, bewildered yet obligingly eating the castella-like thing like a chick being fed by its parent, was kind of adorable.

She looked like a small animal—like a squirrel from a wildlife encyclopedia—nibbling away with crisp little bites.

“…Ah, so that’s why.”

“What is?”

“I read on the gossip-heavy ScreamSheet that people were calling her ‘Tiger Dragon.’”

“When did my voice actress become Kugyu…”

“Kugyu?”

Rebecca tilted her head and softly said “kugyuu,” but Jugra showed no signs of explaining, effectively burying the topic.

“Well, it’s kind of fitting, though. But ‘Tiger Dragon’ sounds clunky. Doesn’t it feel awkward to say?”

“Yeah, it does. Tydra? Cat Dragon? Caddra?”

“‘Caddra’ sounds like the name of a kaiju or something…”

I always wonder where Jugra pulls these anime and comic references from.

Back when she was crashing with us, she made us watch all sorts of shows—stuff from over a century ago. Godzilla was a standout.

She told me it was originally shot with people in suits and miniature sets, and I remember genuinely thinking, “Japan’s amazing.”

“So, what’ve you been up to this past week? The clinic’s been closed the whole time.”

“Oh, right. I was doing business with Delamain. Made the place fly like an aerial vehicle. That left a good impression, so we sealed the deal and started prepping the store. Also picked up a hospital license while I was at it. Though honestly, it’s basically just ID—wasn’t like I took some strict exam.”

“…Jugra, you perform surgeries better than most hospitals—probably better than some corporate-backed ones too.”

“Yeah, they took that into account when approving me. I’m planning to renovate and build next to David’s house.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of place?”

“Delamain Medical Services.”

“…Are you trying to wipe out every hospital in this city? A clinic run by Jugra, overseen by an AI? That’s going to be mobbed, no doubt about it.”

“Who knows? Not everyone’s a fan of Delamain. After all, every taxi company in the city had to shut down because of them. First thing they did to save a failing taxi business? Cut staff. Efficient, sure.”

“Yeah, sucks for the ones who got cut though…”

Jugra snorted at my comment. Honestly, her underlying logic feels like that of a top executive.

…but if we’re talking about her values or sense of citizenship, they’re pretty solid.

She’s the kind of person who’ll smack you with a stack of cash, yet deep down, she actually thinks about the way we live—basically, a decent human being.

“I plan to expand into every district eventually and clean out all the sketchy hospitals with Biotechnica ties. I haven’t shown you, but those so-called ‘research projects’ of theirs are straight-up inhumane. This city’s supposed to be about machines, but they’re doing primitive gene-mix experiments. I hate it.”

Correction: Jugra has her own firm inner code. She’s just merciless toward anyone who doesn’t meet her standards.

She probably doesn’t hold any special feelings toward everyday people like I used to be. What she hates are these corporations that throw their weight around and act like tyrants.

Mix that with a moral compass—maybe a bit of that Japanese sense of obligation or honor—and you get this twisted, spiral-like core of principle.

…Spin that thing at maximum hardness and it’d probably pierce the heavens. Classic Jugra.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yeah. On the mild end, Rebecca would end up with cat ears and a tail.”

“…That actually sounds kind of cute.”

“Wh-what the hell are you saying!? Wait—is that your thing? Is that why you’ve never made a move on me!?”

"And just so you know, once they sprout, those cat ears and tails get linked to your DNA, so your descendants will inherit them too. Over generations, they’ll either atrophy or revert to something wild."

"...That's basically turning people into chimeras, isn’t it!? Wait, is that corporation really doing something that insane?"

"Yup. By the way, if David’s mom, Gloria, were to get into an accident or something, she'd most likely be sent to a Biotechnica-affiliated facility."

"...Ah, so that’s why they’re pushing to expand Delamain’s medical services."

Rebecca, who had been meowing and freaking out about something, eventually came to her senses and sank into the couch, realizing she’d been panicking about the wrong thing.

...Well, yeah, I’m not an idiot. I’ve noticed Rebecca’s feelings for me. I have. But…

Sometimes, the fleeting expressions Jugra shows carry this vibe—like a cat that's already come to terms with dying. It’s unnerving.

It’s like she’s planning something big and dangerous. The kind of thing that could determine Night City’s future. That’s how it feels.

And I can’t help but imagine that one of the invisible wires in this ticking time bomb is wrapped around my neck.

...It’s a damn shame, but I’m pretty sure Jugra doesn’t have any romantic interest in me.

But then why has she gone out of her way to help someone like me this much? That’s what I keep wondering.

Honestly, just helping me out over that incident in front of Arasaka Tower doesn’t explain this level of generosity. Not in this city.

Even that Warp Dancer attached to my back—something like that would cost a poor kid more than a lifetime of work.

Nobody gives that away on a whim. And definitely not with no strings attached or without expecting something in return.

...At some point, Jugra’s probably going to ask me to pay her back for all of this.

That’s exactly why I didn’t want Rebecca getting caught up in a journey that’s heading straight toward death.

But… I have this feeling she’s going to come anyway. That’s just the kind of woman she is—Rebecca’s got that spark.

...“A man who won’t eat a meal served to him has no pride,” huh? Feels like Jugra’s Nihongo ways are rubbing off on me.

"...Hey, Jugra."

"What?"

"I know it's asking a lot, but… if I said I wanted to get stronger and opted for more chrome, would you handle the install?"

"Hmm… depends. You probably already know, but your compatibility with chrome is way higher than average. You could probably handle a third or fourth arm and still control them just fine. That’s why your threshold—the limit people usually go by—is kinda meaningless in your case. ...Still, you're smart to come to me. Any other ripperdoc would see your potential and slap on whatever you asked for, but I’ll make sure the procedure stays within safe limits. ...Wanna go full-body chrome from the neck down?"

"Yeah, I’m not ready to give up being human just yet..."

"Fair. That’s a sane decision—don’t forget that common sense."

Honestly, if I modified my body that much, Mom would be worried sick… I just want to keep it to the point where I still look like me.

I explained that when we talked it over. As expected, most of what she suggested was focused on survival implants.

Jugra’s always looking out for my health, and I really appreciate that. But to be honest, I want some combat tech too.

She gave me a shrug and then said, “In that case, go with this,” and recommended the Gorilla Arms.

It’s an upgrade that chromes everything from your upper arms to your fingertips—lets you physically force open locked doors or windows, and most importantly, it pairs well with the Sandevistan for non-lethal combat. It makes it easier to hold back when needed, she said.

In this city, as long as you keep your head and torso intact, your chances of survival go way up—so this was her way of saying “go out there and break some limbs.”

...Is that really considered non-lethal? As long as they don’t die, it counts, huh?

We agreed to make the appearance RealSkin-type so even if I got disarmed, it wouldn’t give me away. We planned to do the transplant later on.

"By the way, I’m still technically just your part-timer, right? Working under you and getting dispatched to the Edgerunners?"

"Ahh… yeah, I guess that’s true. Doesn’t really matter either way, as long as you’re with the Edgerunners."

"That so?"

"Well, you see..."

Jugra started to say something but then suddenly stopped, like it slipped out by accident.

Not sure what it was, but it sounded like there was a reason she had officially hired me as her clinic assistant.

Still, given that I’ve barely been around, maybe it didn’t really matter if I was there or not...

That thought stung a little, but at least she only said I could quit, not that I should. That means I can stick around if I want to.

"Well, I’m not planning to stop being your assistant anytime soon, so don’t worry. The pay’s good, and besides..."

"Besides?"

"I’d feel pretty scummy not doing at least enough to earn back the cost of that Warp Dancer."

"Hmm... well, you being around does help, so I’m fine with it. Just make sure to tell me early if you’re feeling off, yeah? It’s hard juggling all this with the whole Cyberpunk thing."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Do you really know? You’ve got this tendency to charge headfirst into everything, David. Makes me worry, y’know?"

Jugra gave a little shrug and teased me in that friendly way of hers.

...Drifting away from your first real friend—it felt like a waste.

Honestly, Doc was more of a shady business type. I never had anyone I could actually call a friend back in school.

And besides, I didn’t hate seeing Jugra in action during work. Actually, I kinda enjoyed it.

...If she found out, she’d probably tease me to hell and back again, so I’ll keep that to myself.