"Heh, hey bro. I heard from Viktor you got 'kicked out' by V?"
Yogan rolled his eyes at Jackie's amused face and continued polishing the glass in his hand.
"How was I supposed to know I had a 'cyberware rejection' condition? I only had a neural port installed and I'm already like this. Cyberware is practically mandatory in merc work, and I hadn't even started. Now Viktor and V have completely banned me from touching implants."
Jackie chuckled. "Honestly, maybe that's a good thing. You can stay away from all the shootouts and just live your life in peace. Look at me—always fighting, always on edge. My family's worried sick, and every girlfriend I've ever had was always on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I've lost count of how many breakups I've been through because of this job."
Yogan raised an eyebrow. "You've never thought about quitting? Washing your hands of all this? I mean, come on, you're still the type who'd 'go home and inherit the family business' if things don't work out."
Jackie threw back his cocktail and slammed the glass down. "Please, what kind of family business? Owning a bar in Night City is nothing like you'd imagine."
"You've got to deal with corrupt officials always scheming to squeeze something out of you. Protection money for the gangs—which, thanks to my dad and I both being Valentinos, is at least negotiable. Then there's the drunks who cause a ruckus every night. Not to mention those crooked suppliers always looking to scam you with shady contracts and sub-par goods. Bro, running a business here is no joke."
"If you're running something small, you can forget about making a real profit—most of it goes straight into someone else's pocket. I love this bar—my mom raised me with it. But I don't want her spending the rest of her life stuck in this hellhole. I joined the Valentinos for one reason: money. If I've got the cash, I can get my mom out of this life."
Jackie reached for his glass again, only to realize it was empty.
"Alright, enough of this depressing talk. Hey, bro—pour me another. A good bartender wouldn't leave his guest with an empty glass, right? If you don't, I'm telling my mom on you."
Yogan grabbed a bottle from under the bar and poured him another drink. Jackie took it and gulped it down, then smacked his lips.
"Wait… this tastes weird. Why is it so sweet? No way—you trying to mess with me? You gave me soda, didn't you?!"
Yogan's face remained deadpan.
"Orders from Mrs. Wells. You're only allowed three drinks tonight. That was your limit."
"C'mon, bro! Three drinks don't even count as a warm-up. Can't you sneak me just one more? Just tonight—cut me some slack."
"No can do. Orders are orders."
"What if I call you 'big bro'?"
At that moment, Jackie got smacked on the back of the head. Mrs. Wells stood behind him with a stern face.
Jackie flinched. Judging by her expression, he realized she'd heard everything he just said.
"Heh… hi, Mom…"
"Jackie Wells! You think you're too grown up to listen to your mother now?"
"No, ma'am…"
"Yogan, keep an eye on him." With that, Mrs. Wells went back to her business.
Jackie leaned over and whispered to Yogan, "You couldn't have given me a heads-up?"
"By the time I noticed her, she was already staring me down. You want me to get fired on my first day?"
Jackie stretched with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, yeah, work is work. The boss is always right!"
Yogan ignored his antics.
"Enough playing around. Don't you have to head back to the gang later? Maybe lay off the alcohol before you go."
"You're right. It's almost time. I should get going."
"How are you getting there? Want someone to give you a lift?"
"Nah, I'll just ride my bike. My baby's been sitting idle for days now."
"You're nuts, Jackie. You just drank, and now you're thinking of riding?"
"Relax. My bike can handle it."
"You never know what could happen. It's not worth the risk."
"Man, you're no fun, you know that?"
Mrs. Wells glanced over at them.
"Jackie~~~!"
"Yes, Mom! I got it. I'll take the subway instead."
Jackie gave Yogan a dirty look as he walked off. "Yogan, you little snitch. Don't let me catch you slipping. V and Viktor told me to keep an eye on you. That's two against one. I've got the upper hand."
"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm a perfect angel."
---
The Wild Wolf Bar was far busier than Yogan had expected. It felt like the entire neighborhood loved coming here for a drink after sundown.
The bar didn't just serve alcohol. They had a small menu of bar snacks and light meals, making it more of a hybrid diner-bar. That meant Yogan's first shift was anything but easy.
His tasks were simple in theory—take orders, serve food and drinks, and clean tables. But when things got hectic behind the bar, he also had to jump in and assist the bartender.
Things didn't go smoothly for him. The bar was so packed that he inevitably ran into some patrons with poor drinking etiquette. Fortunately, Mrs. Wells and the Wild Wolf Bar had earned enough local respect that troublemakers were often dealt with by other patrons before they could cause serious problems.
Still, that didn't stop Yogan from getting hit.
At closing time, a drunk had picked a fight with another guest. Yogan stepped in to de-escalate and got punched in the face for his trouble.
Now he was sitting in the back, pressing a cold pack against the swelling on his face.
Luckily, the troublemaker had been quickly taken down by some off-duty Valentinos who happened to be at the bar, Mrs. Wells' hired security, and Jackie, who had just returned from gang business.
Jackie tossed Yogan a fresh ice pack.
"Bro, you don't look half as bad as Viktor and V made it sound. You got clocked and just took it. They made it sound like you'd flip out over a stubbed toe."
Yogan mumbled through the ice pack. "I think they overreacted a bit. Honestly though, Jackie, do you know any other reliable ripperdocs besides Viktor?"
"Dude, no. I trust Viktor with my life. If he says no implants, then no implants."
"But I can't just keep taking punches like this. Be real with me—tonight alone I saw five drunks pick fights. If I don't at least get something to protect myself, I'm gonna end up a punching bag."
Jackie sighed. "That's why I don't want my mom working here anymore either. Fine. I'll ask around. For now, let me grab my bike and take you home."
"You sure you're sober? I'm not getting in a vehicle with a drunk driver."
"According to Night City's traffic laws and testing thresholds, my blood alcohol content is well below the legal limit. Chill, you'll be fine."
Soon enough, Jackie dropped Yogan off at his place. As Yogan walked in, he spotted V waiting for him on the couch, arms crossed.
"You got hit?"
"Some drunk made a scene at the bar."
"Bad?"
"Just a bruise."
"You didn't lose control?"
"My implant only activates in life-or-death situations, remember? If things get worse, I've still got the meds Viktor gave me."
V snorted. "By the way—Veena had nowhere to go in Night City, so I rented out the spare room to her."
Yogan nodded and started heading upstairs.
"One more thing."
Yogan turned, confused.
"Jackie said you asked him to help you find another ripperdoc. Care to explain?"
Oh crap. Busted.
"Jackie! You traitor!"