BENGALURU: December 9, 2020: The most awaited game of the decade releases tomorrow. Were all the memes worth it? Will customization really take an hour? When will I meet Cyberpunk Keanu Reeves, and why does this matter?
December 11, 2020: After a day-long installation and several hotfix updates on a console later, I was finally getting into the game’s stride. It initially looked like a futuristic, blue-red-shiny version of Grand Theft Auto with phone calls, car stealing, wanted stars — the works. But the post-intro gameplay in Cyberpunk surprised me with its depth.
Be it snippets of conversations from NPCs, data shards packed with fun stories, the websites on V’s computer, and the items that you pick up from garbage — they all feel real. Not just in the graphical sense of the word, no. Real, like, every detail is unique, and it all fits right into the universe. The technology, the associated super-human powers that the players had, that our cybernetics could be hacked… it just... made sense. Real — like Night City could probably exist.
Real, when V looks into the mirror, it’s as if she looks into —December 12, 2077 (Night City): — my soul, is it really my own? The Arasaka stint took a lot out of me, and I have nothing to show for it – not even memories. The countless, constant tech-upgrades on flesh make me feel less human. I am not complaining though, the brand new Kiroshi Cyberoptics that were implanted are useful in combat. But I still must work on being quieter.
The enemies find me almost too easily, and I have to endure a noisy, fiery battle of hacks and gunshots. I wonder how long it will take for me to repay the Ripperdoc for the implants. Soon is unlikely, unless someone leaves a huge pile of untraceable Eurodollars on the streets. I should sleep less and explore the city more. I might just chance upon some side-gigs that could help upgrade my skills. Maybe a couple of fights at Kabuki should do it. T-bug said I could even get a Second Heart if I had the money for it. But no, V, I must focus.
Sometimes, when I pause, I wonder if I am not real – and if there is someone outside, passively observing a BrainDance of my life. The world glitches in and out of sight at times, my car flies into the air, and Night City folks appear out of nowhere. I wonder if things will get better over time. It probably will.