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61.22% Cyberpunk: XYZ / Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Wakako Okada I

章節 30: Chapter 30: Wakako Okada I

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[22 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]

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Chapter 30: Wakako Okada I

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The operation is just too risky... I have to study her psychology, then make a personality construct of her and talk to her... Will you listen to my voice, Wakako? Will you answer?

Wakako Okada is the top fixer of the Westbrook district of Night City. Her office can actually be found near X's apartment.

Just by the Cheery Blossom market, you can find Jig-Jig Street. There lies her office.

She had had five husbands over her long life, outliving them all, as well as nine sons who were all high-ranking members of the Tyger Claws.

However, she kept them strictly in line to ensure that they were never the target of a gig picked up by another fixer.

Everyone who pursues the darker shades of work knows of her, knows her for her cunning, ruthlessness, and business acumen.

She has a sharp mind, a steady hand, and a demeanor that commands respect, drawing on a combination of traditional values and pragmatic.

Most importantly, her cold-hearted decisions that make her formidable in the unforgiving streets of Night City.

Meeting with such a woman on her home turf... It's gotta be difficult, and X has to weigh his steps carefully.

"You've just handed me evidence I can use against you... Very brave indeed. You're a man of purpose and ambition. I do not mind people like you... If they see the boundaries of our line of work." W stated.

"Why do you care about boundaries in this context? You approach situations in calculated pragmatism."

"To you, people are assets and liabilities, constantly weighing who is worth keeping around and who could be sacrificed for a better deal."

"Your focus is on maximizing value, profit, and influence. By your words, you seem to have realized my value... Too good to miss." X responded.

"Hmm, no. It can work, but it will leave behind unnecessary tension. The conversation can go better," The one to interrupt the conversation was none other than Z.

Speaking of the conversation, it looked odd, abnormal, insane, something which left even Joi speechless, just standing by the side and watching the two parties talking.

The two parties were X and W... Again, The two parties were X and X himself as he seemed to be talking to someone no one but Z could see.

Z could see what X sees, and before X was W, short for Wakako, looking exactly like the real thing, seemingly a personality construct mimicking Wakako, created by X's bizarre mind.

"Ruthless. Pragmatic. Master Manipulator. Loyal, but only to a Point. Diplomatic and Discreet. Patient and Cunning," X described Wakako's personality.

It wasn't as if he had just started. He had been talking to her for more than fourteen hours, looking up news about.

He thoroughly studied her public routines, track record, and most importantly, her sons.

How they are was a big part of shaping Wakako's personality construct.

"It's crucial to remember that working with her means walking a fine line between trust and constant vigilance." Z reminded.

"It's time," Y also reminded, "It's 9 O'clock in the morning."

X stood up, catching the projection of Joi from the corner of his eyes, "Joi, good morning."

"Good morning," Joi didn't seem to be as confused, or rather, she studied X's psych enough to understand what he was doing.

X went to take a long comfy shower before walking to his bed where he found his attire for the meeting.

For a high-stakes meeting with someone as traditional yet street-savvy as Wakako, X needed to make a good first impression.

His chosen attire conveys that he's not there to be flashy or overly casual but as a professional who understands both the culture of Japantown and the seriousness of the occasion.

He basically used all of the money he acquired from a recent small-time gig to get a fitted black tailored suit with subtle metallic threads, a high-quality shirt, and black leather shoes.

It isn't anything special or expensive by any means, nor is it from any famous cyber brand, but it did its job, showing formality.

X combed his blond hair backward and put on a cologne. He picked up all of his necessities, some shards, and made some calls.

It was raining, albeit only slightly, so the last thing X did before heading out was pick his umbrella.

X slowly walked himself to the Cheery Blossom market, able to see the entrance to Jig-Jig Street from there.

However, he couldn't help but stop before the most striking thing about the area, a stature so enormous it looms over the entire street.

In the midst of Cherry Blossom Market stands a bronze-like statue of a four-armed deity, illuminated by the market's neon lights.

The lower arms are clasped together in a serene, meditative pose, creating a feeling of calm and reverence.

The top arms extend outward, each hand holding a glowing orb that resembles a light bulb, casting a gentle, almost ethereal light that blends with the surrounding neon hues.

Around the statue were a few infrastructures with traditional tiled roofs as well as several holographic cheery blossom trees, giving the scene an ethereal unreal feeling.

So gorgeous was the place that X lost himself in the scenery for a minute or two.

'Avalokiteshvara? Or Vishnu?' X wondered as he took a deep breath, the faint glow of the orbs casting a subtle light on his face, 'Keep watch over me; This is just the first move in a longer game.'

Every city needs its red light district, does it not? That's what Jig-Jig Street is for Night City.

It is located in a section of Japantown where not only can you buy love by the hour, but also encounter suspect dealers offering exotic, rare, and very illegal wares.

Jig-Jig Street doesn't have a reputation for being safe - it's not uncommon to enter with your wallet and leave with a black eye and empty pockets.

But in spite of its reputation, it's popular with corpos who like to get their game on before venturing deeper into the city's many attractions.

Bars, the most salacious of ads, prostitutes wearing skimpy outfits made more revealing by the rain running over their skin.

"Hello handsome, wanna have a lick," X naturally attracted the attention of many of them, "I have a very long and lovely tool right here."

X was dressed very well, and he is very handsome, so it wasn't strange that they'd see him as a customer.

Many corpos come here simply for Jig-Jig Street's Joytoys which are basically advanced sex workers with implants that are popular in their line of work.

The first one to approach him was beautiful. It's easy to look however you want to look in this day and age, just like it's easy to get a cock if you want to.

"No need, thank you," X shook his head and went on his way.

"Humanity is very interesting, always pursuing something new, more exciting," X muttered.

"Do we want to try them? Those exciting things?" Y wondered.

"Eh, waste of my time," X shook his head, "I just find them interesting. For example, the guy who had a horse cock biosculpted on himself or the girl who had rabbit fur biosculpted on herself... It's fascinating."

Speaking of individuals who biosculpt themselves with non-human elements such as fur, long ears, fangs, etc; There were some in the street, one stranger than the other. They are called Exotics.

That's why X genuinely loves Night City, or this entire world for that matter, the insanity and possibilities within nearly rival the absurdity within his own mind... It's a mesmerizing World.

X soon reached the Pachinko parlor. Wakako has an office in the backroom of the place where she conducts biz.

Before getting to her, however, you have to go through Wakako's Huscles, her hired muscle.

Not just anyone can meet her, "Please let lady Wakako know that I have important information for her... About Johnson and Mr. M."

The huscle didn't question X, but merely nodded as his eyes shifted blue, likely in contact with Wakako.

He was used to all the different ways customers' approach Wakako, and in the end, she has the final say.

The Huscle nodded again and stepped aside, allowing X to enter Wakako's office.

What a delight it was. Wakako's den is a simple old-school oasis of calm, refined elegance.

There she is, Wakako Okada, exuding an aura of elegance and danger, her appearance refined and meticulous.

She was dressed in richly colored, traditional Japanese attire, a silk kimonos with intricate patterns; cherry blossoms and koi fish; stitched alongside metallic accents.

Her hair is styled neatly, in a classic updo and pinned back with delicate hair ornaments.

There, she sat, in the middle of a phone call while studying him from behind a cup of tea, with that trademark, calculating gaze.

 


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