Detailing life in Night City during the Time of the Red

[HalC]

This is material that I will have my player read regards to the start of the campaign. The idea is to get him in the right frame of mind, and start the action where he enters the place in an effort to find his friend

The loud hissing noise of a hydraulic pump releasing air, reverberated at the stinky, old run-down bus terminal in Night City. The many who are too poor to afford air travel, hoofed it between patient lumbering Busses waiting for passengers to board, or disembark gave off an odd vibe of mechanical lives merging with flesh lives. Many of the passengers were wary eyed as if at any moment, a stranger might approach too close and steal the worldly possessions they had while moving in the bus station. The fumes that used to be diesel in the past, were now the smell of rotted burnt vegetable smell that only burnt Choo2 gives off for heavy vehicle use. Oily stains gave off rainbows of color as people stepped over the puddles as they went about in their journey that no one cared to know about, nor cared at all. Night City teaches its inhabitants to watch for danger, but stare not into anyone's face lest it be seen as a challenge.

A tall ramrod straight man with a military hair cut, stepped off the entry point of the bus. His clothing was all seemingly new, because they were sharp creased and new of color - in direct contrast with many whose clothing looked as though they had been worn for decades of color fading use. His eyes took in everything with a practiced ease, not as a predator, and certainly not as prey.
As he looked around, he shifted on his should, the carrying case for a legally owned Militech Rifle, its firing pin removed for safety and to ensure that if anyone did take it from him, they'd have a non-functional weapon. Sure, he's going to the city for the first time ever since he'd made plans with a buddy of his, Jurek. But this - this was Night City? Connor looked about him, noticed that as always, the civilians walked in slouches, moved as if they had all the energy in the world to waste, and didn't even have the grace that God gave dogs and children. These were the civilians he had to train at boot camp to become real soldiers.

With that dismissive thought, Connor turned away, noting his second bag carrying his spare clothing, some personal items, and other necessities, caught on the edge of the doorway of the bus entry point. Shouldering nearly 40 kilos of weight on his back didn't faze him, although it definitely slowed him down. Until He could find a place to say, his stuff was being carried on his back.

Suddenly, his agent chimed trying to get his attention. The vibrations Connor felt in his left cargo pant pocket was enough to alert him that his Agent had flagged a priority call. Pulling out his agent as he moved away from the bus, Connor instinctively sought cover from a nearby bench, where cement wall enclosure would cover his back and allow him to see anyone approaching to perhaps, steal his personal goods. Dropping the neocanvas rucksack to the ground, and propping his nearly solid carrying case down the ground, Connor shifted his attention to his Agent.

"Yeah?" came out his question, in a semi-erased drawl hinting at perhaps a Texan accent, Connor answered his Agent. He could see Jerek's name displaying as he spoke.

"Connor, they..." and the line went dead. Connor thought a moment and wondered "Huh?" He spoke firmly "Josie, call Jerek please." After waiting at least 20 maybe 30 seconds, Josie, his chosen name for his Agent, responded "Jerek's agent is not responding. Shall I continue?"

Absent mindedly, Connor said "No need, initiate text back protocol every five minutes until Jerek responds. “Connor ignored his agent's voice confirming his command and his eyes took in the time being displayed on his agent's screen. 19:42:28. He noted the last two digits incrementing to 29, 30, 31 before he looked away. His bus had dropped him off on the California west Coast 2 plus hours after he would have sat down for a meal. With a practiced and familiar disdain of his physical state of hunger, he ignored the growling in his belly. He had to find Jerek's apartment so he could crash there for at least a night before he set out to find his own place. Odd that Jerek had called and then hung up, but - nothing could be done until the agents were talking to each other again.

Connor noted that in his small little corner at the bus station, that he was occupying a small eddy of currents, where instead of water, the motion was made by people. Nearby were a handful of rank smelling, homeless people panhandling for money. Elsewhere, he could see a cat stalking what may have been a rat or some other similar rodent. Suddenly, his agent vibrated again, signaling a new incoming call.

"Yeah?"

An unfamiliar woman's voice responded "You Jerek's friend?"

Connor barked "How did you get my agent's number?"

The woman seemed unfazed by his tone of command, a voice that made recruits scramble for fear the wrath of God was amongst them. She simply ignored his request saying "Jerek's getting his face beat in by people I don't think are his nor your friends. I don't think he has much time by the looks of it, some guy is yelling that he'll plant a point in his guts if he doesn't do as he's told.

Connor's eyes narrowed. First, a call to his agent without a Caller ID. Now this. The woman's voice continued.

"You might not want to wait; Sledge is not a patient man. I heard them say that they're heading over to the Port Authority Container park. It is known locally as the PA Stacks. I'll pin the location for you."

Then her voice was gone, and the connection showed that she was no longer connected. Maybe 10 seconds or so later, his agent vibrated for his attention, and he read the information. The map app opened up, showing him a locale with the written backdrop of "Port Authority Container Park. A single star was displayed showing the likely location the woman was sending to him as a pin.
Connor thought about his options. In his rucksack, was his heavy pistol - it was top on the rucksack so he could pull it in an emergency. Checking his pack, he pulled his pistol out. It wasn't a stock military issue, but a heavy caliber gun that used to belong to his dad. Connor pulled it out of the holster and checked its action. Nearby people shied nervously away from him as he pulled the rack on his pistol, chambering no round into the chamber, as the gun didn't hold a magazine. At times, Connor didn't like having to observe gun safety protocols, but better to be safe than sorry. Besides, he may have to carry it in a holster soon. Open carry of a weapon in Night city was like broadcasting you want trouble, but Connor's mind was already weighing the factors involved here. He didn't know Night City as well as he used to, as it has been two decades since he joined Militech and served as a DI. He knew that if he did go looking for his buddy, that he couldn't carry all of his stuff.

Connor looked around, and spotted the ubiquitous bus terminal lockers. Many of the lockers were closed and the keys missing. Some few were open, but Connor needed a large locker for his rifle carrying case, and a medium sized locker for his rucksack. Medium should do it - if he stuffed it hard - maybe.

After about 10 minutes, Connor spotted the locker he needed. As fate would have it, another passenger was eyeing the same locker, and Connor knew he would have to get there first. As luck would have it, the other passenger arrived there just a hair's breadth sooner than he did, and Connor simply gave the man his best stare he used on stupid recruits. That worked very well on the civvies, and the guy who wanted the locker realized the military hair cut guy staring him down was someone he didn't want to mess with. Connor smirked a little as he won the locker, and stashed his rifle case in the tall locker. Wincing at the rental cost, Connor applied his cred card to the locker's sensors, and after the sensor clicked and made a high-pitched whine, Connor stuffed the locker's door shut, turning the key and removing it. The whine stopped. Now for the rucksack. A nearby medium locker stood open some 10 meters further away, so Connor used that locker to stuff full with his rucksack. Before he did that however, he took his tactical belt out, his combat knife, his first aid kit, and a few other odds and ends on the belt, including an empty ID pocket that used to hold his Base ID in it, and made sure that that the belt fit snugly where it should. Then Connor made a point to fill in his pistol's magazine after checking his mag's bullets were secure snugly in it. The satisfying clicks the mag made when seated properly just felt right. Connor felt around for the second magazine, and placed that on his belt as well. Now his rucksack was deflated enough that he could hope to stuff it in the medium locker. Again, the ritual of placing his cred card against the sensor resulted in a click and a whine, and all that remained was finding out if he could get the pack in. It took a few attempts, but the pack lost the battle and Connor could close his rucksack inside the locker. Pulling the key out, Connor spied a kid watching him hungrily, but Connor knew between the drones patrolling the locker area, and the tough locker locks - his stuff should be good for a time.

[HalC]

Looking at his agent's timer, Connor knew that time was moving at a pace that might not be good for his friend. Not even 20 minutes in this city, and already his pockets were being picked by corporate bank accounts to the tune of two expensive lockers, and a full cost cab ride. Using his navigation app, he knew if he was lucky, he might make it to the stacks before too long. Maybe 30 minutes of stop and go city traffic.
As Connor's ride approached, it took until nearly 20:00. His map app indicated that his ride was nearby, and he knew that he could thank his agent for transposing the data from the app to his map screen. Connor didn't even think twice, as Josie gave him his information feed effortlessly. The cab's exterior was that of a vehicle that had seen better days. Its paint was heavily scratched, and rust from many rainstorms had already collected on the care like age spots on an old man's arm. The only thing that looked young about the cab was its driver, and oddly enough, the interior. A sign on the side of the car door gave the rates. Connor sure hoped that this wasn't going to really hurt his funds, Lord knows, Militech's pay wasn't the greatest. He'd have to wait until his first pension check showed up in his bank account.

The cab driver stayed in the car, as normal courtesies of the past no longer were practiced by Night City today. Connor noted the man's attentive glance, and he spotted the fact the cabbie was carrying what looked to be either an odd pistol of some kind, or perhaps a reworked shotgun - sawed off barrels and all. Connor's amused mind noted this as he remembered his dad saying once "California once had the strictest gun laws in the United States. Now as a Free State, it seems anything goes as long as you don't commit murder, or shoot a corpo."

Smiling at that memory, Connor got into the cab.

"Where do you need to go? asked the cabbie.

"Can you get me to the Port Authority Container Park?" responded Connor. "There's an extra 50 if you can get me there fast."

The cabbie looked at Connor in the mirror and after a short pause "I'd like to take that 50, but dispatch said that there is a port authority strike. Something about better pay and less automation. Might get you there by say, 8:45 PM if we're lucky."

Connor inwardly cursed. Time is what his friend didn't have. He thought about it. "Make it 100 if you can get me there faster."

The cabbie laughed saying "Not a shake down mister. For you, there is no fare if I can't get you there before 8:45. You did your part for us civilians, we can give you a break. If you need hotel reservations or a place to stay cheap, I know a few people by 6th Street territory who'd take you in for free."

Connor didn't respond, but the Taxi cab driver leaned on his horn and aggressively intimidated the street traffic of pedestrians to get out of his way. People flipping the bird at him in anger only made him laugh cheerfully as he navigated away from the Bus terminal and onto the streets.
Connor considers talking to the Cabbie, but what the cabbie knows isn't germane to his new mission. An unknown threat to his friend meant that he may soon have to use his military skills to their fullest. How did the woman know where his buddy was going to be taken. Then, as if cursing himself, he said aloud "Josie, Initiate find my protocol. The find my app may be turned on at Jurek's end and we might be able to see where he or at least his agent is." Josie's quick vibration meant she had his data ready. Connor glanced at his map app showing not only the star Pin that was given to him by the unknown woman, but also as chance would have it, Jerek's agent. Connor relaxed in a way that suggested his body was tense. The pre-battle jitters that soldier's get when they know there is a coming battle. He recognized the relaxed posture as he got his first intel. The Port Authority Container park pin was close, but slightly off. Jerek's agent was closer towards the water's edge on the map than Connor would have thought would be the case looking at where the pin star symbol was. Well, this was better.

Connor cleared his throat and asked the up to now, silent cabbie. "Hey, is there any chance you could drop me off by the West Gate of that Container Park?"

The cabbie looked into the mirror then turned his eyes back to driving "Sure. That's the old part of the port authority area - some claim that the Port Authority has forgotten it even owns the place. The fencing isn't all that good and kids can get in and out without any problem. Not sure if you can go through the gate though. The good news is, I can take a faster route to the place and maybe shave some time off for you."

Connor smiled. The first good news so far, and if he's right, he'll be able to approach the site from the sun. It offered him two possible results by doing it that way, one good, the other bad. The good - the sun would be at his back, and people staring into the sun tend to squint a bit and not look that way as often. The bad news - if he blocked the light, they'd see he was there without any hesitation. He would have to try and sneak in with a low posture. Crouching movement at times, crawling at others, but certainly not fully upright. Yeah, from the west would work out. Now all he had to do was hope that the container park area had sufficient cover for his approach. If it were open enough, he'd be walking into a kill zone. If on the other hand, the cover was plentiful, he might be able to reach out and touch someone - HARD.

A predatory smile stole over Connor's face in response to his musings. The cab driver's periodic checking of the mirror made him shudder. That smile wasn't something he'd seen since the time he got robbed last and the fare was going to kill him for sport. That's why he Kept his modified shotgun pistol at the ready these days.

The rest of the ride was silent but for the fact that the outside city kept talking to its inhabitants as only a city can talk. Banging noises as machines worked, honking cries of geese-like cars migrating through its arterial roads, angry yelling of people at other people, and of course, the one sound no one can quite get away from - the nonstop machinery dredging up the land near the waterway, trying to dispose of the unclean fill from the contamination site. Of course, the boats and their horns had to add to the sound, but one thing was for sure, Night City never shut up.

Finally, the cab arrived at is destination. The cabbie smiled knowing that his fare was lucky he changed the destination from the East Gate to the West Gate. The strike would have delayed him at least another 20 minutes. As it was, the nearly deserted entry way was devoid of any real chaos other than a bunch of guys rough housing with each other. The more the driver looked the more he realized these were maybe College aged kids, but these days, jobs were scarce and they likely had nowhere to go and nothing to do. Still, they looked healthy - walking easily instead of jerkily like addicts. Better yet, they looked fed well enough that they likely were law abiding people. Well, if not, the shotgun should to the trick.

Connor looked at the area as the cabbie slowed his vehicle in preparation to come to a stop. Looking at the Cabbie fare, the $30 mark had just been passed and it was working towards the $30.25 mark next. $30 dollars for a short trip across the city. Connor swore internally. This place was expensive.

As the cab pulled into a stop, the cabbie hit the radio transmit button to signify end of drive to the dispatcher. He didn't even bother to speak, as the habit was ingrained in him to let his dispatcher know where he was. The cab company always knew where its cabs were due to tracking software. Some kid broke into the cab company's mainframe and hacked the system so he could track where the cars were. Sheesh, KIDS!

"Well sir, we're here." Fare is $20."

Connor glanced again to be sure he heard right. He almost spoke up but was interrupted...

"I know I know, not what the meter reads, but only a $20. Had my life saved once by a Vet, and I'm not about to charge you full fare. Get out before Dispatch starts to note I'm stopped,"

Connor smiled. He still paid with cash for the cabbie, he gifted him an extra 20 saying "Keep the change, I appreciate the gesture, if my agent ever calls, would it be worth it for you to keep me in mind in case I need you? Got a buddy in trouble and I might need your help later."

The cabbie seemed to think about it - but the money disappeared fast enough that Connor knew the answer was yes.

Connor got out quickly and stood staring into the Container Park. An old weathered sign stood over the entryway to the padlocked gate that read "Port Authority Container Park - No trespassing." There was fine print lettering under the big sign, but it was so weathered as to be unworthy of taking the effort to read. Besides, daylight was burning...

[HalC]

Connor noted that in addition to the vehicle entrance, there were signs of railroad tracks present, as well as a few four-legged wheeled cranes used to off load or onload containers to the railroad cars. This wasn't just a container park; it was an industrial grade container park. Connor almost wished he had the time to climb one of the cranes to get a high ground recon vantage point, but he knew he didn't have the time. At 20:27, he had a time table to keep, and a friend who may already be dead. If he were, someone was going to pay in pain. More importantly, that meant that someone who took his friend's life may live long enough to BE in pain, the kind that gives polite answers when asked - sometimes.

Again, that predatory look came to Connor's face. This time, he didn't lose it. Making a last moment check of his gear, Connor made certain that his belt was positions properly, his holster snapped shut so as to keep his gun tighter to his body and avoid clunking on something as he passed by. He loosened his knife a little in case he needed it quickly, but above all, he was taking internal stock to ensure that he wasn't getting hyped up for this. Mistakes were a function of lax mindset, and Connor couldn't afford to lose friends, he had too few of them.

[HalC]

**Night City Science Journal**
**Department of Biological Sciences, Night City University**
**Volume 18, Issue 4 (2045)**

# Preliminary Characterization of *Necromyces cauldronis*: An Alkaliphilic Biofilm-Forming Fungal Subspecies Associated with Cauldron Necrotizing Syndrome

**Author:** Fiona Mallory, M.D.
**Independent Clinical Researcher and Community Medical Practitioner**

## Abstract

This paper documents the identification and preliminary characterization of a previously undocumented fungal subspecies recovered from environmental samples and infected patients associated with the urban region commonly known as the Cauldron. The organism, herein designated *Necromyces cauldronis*, appears to be derived from a lineage of saprotrophic fungi historically associated with the decomposition of animal remains.

Unlike its presumed ancestral forms, *N. cauldronis* demonstrates a pronounced tendency toward biofilm formation, persistence within alkaline environments, and cooperative symbiosis with multiple bacterial species. Clinical observations suggest that tissue damage associated with infection is not solely attributable to fungal growth, but instead results from a complex interaction among fungal extracellular enzymes, bacterial metabolic activity, and host inflammatory responses.

Current evidence suggests that mortality is strongly correlated with the magnitude of the host inflammatory response rather than fungal burden alone.

## Introduction

The Cauldron represents one of Night City's most chemically and biologically complex urban environments. Decades of industrial contamination, structural decay, heavy metal exposure, stagnant water accumulation, and residual radiological contamination have produced ecological conditions significantly different from those observed elsewhere within the metropolitan region.

During treatment of multiple patients presenting with rapidly progressive tissue degradation, conventional diagnostic approaches failed to identify a single causative bacterial pathogen capable of explaining observed clinical progression. Subsequent investigations revealed a previously undocumented fungal organism consistently associated with affected tissues.

The purpose of this publication is to summarize current findings and establish a framework for future study.

## Environmental Origin

Current evidence suggests that *N. cauldronis* evolved from a carrion-associated saprotrophic fungal lineage. The ancestral organism likely occupied ecological niches involving decomposition of dead animal material.

The Cauldron environment appears to have selected for several adaptive traits:

* Enhanced biofilm production.
* Tolerance for elevated environmental alkalinity.
* Resistance to oxidative stress.
* Persistence within metal-rich environments.
* Cooperative relationships with environmental bacterial populations.

No evidence currently suggests abrupt mutational origin. Available data are more consistent with long-term environmental selection acting upon pre-existing biological characteristics.

## Morphology and Growth Characteristics

Laboratory cultures demonstrate:

* Robust biofilm production.
* Preference for alkaline growth conditions.
* Resistance to environmental desiccation.
* Extensive extracellular matrix formation.
* Stable coexistence with several bacterial species isolated from infected tissues.

The biofilm matrix serves as a structural and protective environment for both fungal and bacterial populations.

Notably, disruption of fungal cells alone frequently fails to eliminate the biofilm community.

## Proposed Pathogenic Mechanism

Clinical observations suggest that the primary disease process is not direct fungal invasion.

Instead, disease progression appears to result from three interacting systems:

1. Extracellular fungal enzymes.
2. Symbiotic bacterial populations.
3. Host inflammatory response.

The fungal colony secretes extracellular digestive enzymes believed to have evolved for decomposition of animal remains. Within living tissue these enzymes contribute to local tissue degradation.

Bacterial populations embedded within the biofilm metabolize degradation products and appear to contribute additional inflammatory signaling.

Host immune responses trigger further biofilm reinforcement and increased inflammatory activity.

The result is a self-amplifying cycle:

Fungal activity → Tissue damage → Inflammation → Enhanced biofilm production → Additional tissue damage

## Clinical Presentation

Observed symptoms include:

* Persistent localized inflammation.
* Progressive tissue degradation.
* Failure of wounds to heal.
* Resistance to conventional antimicrobial therapy.
* Extensive biofilm formation within affected tissues.

Early clinical findings may resemble severe bacterial infection, resulting in frequent diagnostic misidentification.

## Inflammatory Correlation

A significant finding of this investigation is the apparent relationship between inflammatory intensity and disease progression.

Patients exhibiting strong inflammatory responses frequently experience more rapid deterioration than patients displaying comparatively moderate inflammatory activity.

This observation suggests that host immune activity may contribute substantially to pathology.

Further investigation is required.

## Therapeutic Implications

Current findings indicate that treatment strategies focused exclusively upon bacterial eradication are insufficient.

Similarly, antifungal therapies alone have produced inconsistent results.

Future treatment approaches should investigate:

* Biofilm disruption.
* Control of excessive inflammation.
* Inhibition of extracellular enzyme activity.
* Restoration of normal tissue healing processes.
* Disruption of fungal-bacterial symbiosis.

## Conclusion

*Necromyces cauldronis* represents an unusual example of environmental adaptation producing clinically significant human disease without requiring dramatic biological innovation.

The organism appears to be a highly specialized decomposer whose existing survival mechanisms have become maladaptive when introduced into living human tissue.

The greatest threat posed by *N. cauldronis* is not fungal growth alone, but the interaction among organism, environment, and host response.

Continued investigation is strongly recommended.

### Acknowledgements

The author wishes to acknowledge the Reclaimer communities of the Cauldron whose cooperation, patience, and courage made this investigation possible.

This paper is dedicated to those patients lost before the underlying mechanism of disease could be recognized.

That last dedication feels especially Fiona. She'd be proud of the science, but the people she lost would matter more to her than having her name attached to the discovery.

[HalC]

Tired of ****roaches and spiders - use our patented Microbots specifically engineered to root out those prolific pernicious pests. For only 200 Eurobucks, you too can have your very own Pest pogrom provider...

Because of the oddity of automated "censorship" - I am including the latin name for that thing that starts with **** and ends with Roaches.

To fill this in so that there is no doubt:

Replace ****roaches with

Periplaneta americana

Also, the gag reveal is this: The corporation that sells this product sells a basic package with the warning:

"warning, not responsible for any damages that occur after 40 days, as this product works without issue for at least 30 days. Use at own risk after 40 days"

The joke being?

The package sold as the Roach Ripper Deluxe is also sold under the brand label as Roach Ripper Basic for 50 Euros.

The products are exactly the same - no sabotage involved, but by making the public aware it should discard the product after 30 days, they increase their sales.

[HalC]

World Foods Dry Cereal: So good you can eat it or give it to your cat...

Available flavors:

Tuna
Chicken
Hamburger
Pepperoni
Liver (Discontinued)

As they say on the streets - My cat won't eat it either.