I still remember the first time I stepped into Night City, the pulsating heart of Cyberpunk 2077. Three years have passed since my initial descent into that neon-drenched metropolis, yet the memories remain etched into my consciousness like chrome implants. The rain-slicked streets, the towering megabuildings that scrape the polluted sky, and the faces—oh, the faces of those who would become my greatest adversaries.
Shadows in the Neon Light
Night City isn't just a playground—it's a predator's den. As I navigated its treacherous landscape, I encountered souls so twisted by power and greed that they ceased to be human in any meaningful way. The villains of this concrete jungle have haunted my dreams for years.
Oda, with his unwavering loyalty to Hanako Arasaka, still visits me in nightmares. I remember our dance of death during the parade, my fingers gripping my weapon as he moved with inhuman grace. His blade caught the neon lights as it sliced through the air, missing my throat by millimeters. What haunts me isn't his skill, but his emptiness—a vessel filled only with blind devotion to Arasaka. When I spared him, I saw nothing in his eyes. No gratitude, no humanity. Just programming.
Then there was Royce of the Maelstrom gang. God, what a monster. Not because of his augmentations, though they were extreme enough to make even a ripperdoc wince. No, his monstrosity lay in his casual cruelty, his impatience simmering just beneath the surface. I can still hear his mechanically-distorted voice, see the red glow of his implants in the dim light of their hideout. Some nights I wonder if I made the right choice with him. Some choices in Night City leave stains on your soul.
Betrayal and Blood
Dexter DeShawn. Even now, typing his name makes my fingers tremble with rage. The big-time fixer who promised glory and delivered a bullet instead. I trusted him—we all did. Jackie and I thought we'd hit the big leagues. Instead, I got a hole in my head and Jackie... well, some wounds never heal.
I sometimes wonder if Dex knew what awaited him after he pulled that trigger. Did he see Takemura's shadow before the end? Did he understand, in those final moments, that Night City's web of betrayal had finally caught him too? There's a poetry to his death that brings me cold comfort on the darkest nights.
Yorinobu Arasaka's patricide set everything in motion—a single act of violence that rippled through the city like a stone dropped in still water. I never understood him, not really. Was it rebellion? Ambition? Or something deeper, more primal? The look on his face when he realized his father's engram would puppet him from beyond the grave... I've seen many broken men in Night City, but few as thoroughly shattered as Yorinobu in that moment.
The Depths of Depravity
Some villains wear their evil like a badge. Others, like Woodman, hide it behind a businessman's smile. What he did to Evelyn... I've killed countless enemies in my time in Night City, but putting down Woodman felt different. Cleansing. The world became a fractionally better place the moment he drew his last breath.
I remember standing over his body, my weapon still warm, and feeling nothing. Not satisfaction. Not regret. Just the hollow certainty that some people deserve exactly what comes to them. Night City teaches you that lesson early, if you're paying attention.
And then there's Adam Smasher. Half man, half machine, all nightmare. The boogeyman of Night City, the apex predator. I felt Evelyn's terror through that braindance, experienced her primal fear as he passed by. When we finally faced off, I understood why. There was nothing human left in him—just a hunger for violence wrapped in chrome and steel.
The New Threats
Phantom Liberty brought new demons into my life. Kurt Hansen and his BARGHEST thugs turned Dogtown into their personal kingdom, ruling through fear and brutality. I can still feel the tension in my shoulders whenever I ventured into his territory, the constant awareness that his eyes were everywhere.
Hansen wasn't just dangerous because of his firepower or his men. It was his absolute certainty, his unwavering belief in his right to rule. Those are the most dangerous people in Night City—the ones who never question their path.
The Ghost in the Machine
Perhaps most terrifying of all was Saburo Arasaka—a man so powerful that death itself couldn't contain him. His digital ghost, his engram, continued to exert his will long after his physical form was gone. I've faced down gangers, cyberpsychos, and corporate hit squads, but nothing chilled me like watching Saburo's engram bend reality to his will through sheer force of personality.
That's the true horror of Night City in 2025: death isn't the end. Not for those with enough eddies. Not for those who can afford to live forever as digital ghosts, haunting the net and puppeteering flesh bodies.
My Night City
As I look toward 2026, I can't help but wonder what new nightmares await in Night City's embrace. The line between human and machine blurs more each day. Sometimes, in the quiet hours before dawn, I catch myself checking my reflection, searching for signs that I'm becoming like them—the villains who shaped my journey.
I've changed since I first jacked into Night City. We all have. The city gets under your skin, rewires your brain, until you can't remember who you were before. But unlike Smasher or Oda or Saburo, I still question. I still doubt. And maybe that's the only difference that matters.
Night City's villains taught me one undeniable truth: power without humanity is the real cyberpsychosis. And as the corporations grow stronger and the streets get meaner, I wonder how many of us will maintain that crucial balance. How many of us will remember to be human in a world that rewards the machine?
When I close my eyes, I still see their faces. Royce's mechanical sneer. Woodman's calculating gaze. Smasher's inhuman visage. They are my ghosts, my teachers, my warnings.
And I am still here. Still fighting. Still human.
For now.
❤️ V