"Welcome to Cloudtop—where your deepest desires are understood."
V followed behind Oliver, listening to the receptionist's greeting. His heart skipped a beat.
According to the plan, the two of them had taken the elevator to the twelfth floor, where Cloudtop was located. But the neon lights reflecting off his face and the soft, sultry tone of the receptionist already had him on edge.
Was it instinct, or just the atmosphere? Either way, V felt more nervous now than when he first faced a Scav stronghold.
Compared to V—who looked calm but had a racing heart—Oliver, who had taken the lead, was perfectly relaxed. Maybe it was like he said: after exploring places like this in countless braindances, he was already well-versed. Calmly, he spoke:
"Shall we initiate terminal access for personal matching?"
Hearing this, the blue-haired receptionist—hair tied into twin buns—smiled knowingly. "Ah, already familiar with our services? Welcome. If you don't mind, please connect to the terminal here."
The receptionist, equipped with a memory-grade data processor, never forgot a returning client. Oliver and V were unfamiliar faces, but their tone and confidence made it obvious—they'd done their homework. Guests like this made her job easier. No need to waste time explaining everything like with clueless outsiders.
She gestured to a terminal connected to Cloudtop's local network and NCPD-sourced databases. A quick jack-in would verify identity and access their guest profiles.
Out of the corner of his eye, V caught a glimpse of Ball-Ball—their black-and-white bionic dog—moving into position. Casually adjusting his sleeve, he gave the signal as if nervously straightening his clothes.
Hearing the subtle rustle behind him, Oliver beamed a charming smile at the receptionist and said, "Of course. We understand Cloudtop's procedures. Just connect here, right?"
"Yes, sir. If anything makes you uncomfortable, you may disengage at any time. Our services are fully customizable for your experience."
As he connected the cable, Oliver continued with smooth confidence, flirting effortlessly:
"Would I be lucky enough to get your number, miss? Because I have to say… for all the beauty Cloudtop promises, I think the real masterpiece is standing right in front of me."
"You flatter me, sir."
Clearly accustomed to this sort of attention, the receptionist moved to the terminal monitor and began processing the identity check. Just then, T-BUG's voice buzzed in their earpieces:
"Network hijacked. Identities masked. You're good to go."
The receptionist's screen flickered momentarily, but she took it as a simple loading delay and carried on without suspicion.
Cloudtop's guest protocol focused on matching new clients with ideal dolls based on personal profiles. Regulars could request favorites, but for new guests, matches were algorithmically assigned.
As she skimmed through Oliver's fabricated profile, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Quinn"—a rich heir from a prominent city in the New American West, according to the record. What was someone like him doing here, in Night City's Cloudtop?
She remembered his earlier flirt and glanced at him again. This time, her gaze lingered longer.
"He's… actually kind of handsome."
He said he was chasing her beauty?
If she could land someone like this—be it as mistress or more—maybe she could escape Tiger Claw control. No more 9-to-9 shifts at Cloudtop's reception. Maybe she'd end up living in a penthouse, cruising in a custom Gudra...
Her eyes sparkled, unaware that off-screen, her system data was still being subtly rewritten. By the time she glanced back down, T-BUG had already finished modifying the entries.
V's forged file was much simpler: his background was adjusted from Nomad to small-town civilian, tagged as a personal bodyguard hired by "Quinn."
"Even brought a bodyguard along? Must be a real gentleman."
Snapping out of her thoughts, the receptionist refocused on her duties.
"Gentlemen, please confirm your safewords."
Safeword?
V, now standing beside Oliver, froze for a second. Before he could react, Oliver clarified over comms:
"A safeword is a word you can use to instantly stop any session if it gets too intense."
"…To stop a session?"
"Yeah," Oliver continued. "Say you're playing a... more extreme game with a doll. If it goes too far, you use the word to make it stop immediately. Think of it as an emergency brake."
...
That hit V like a punch to the brain.
While V reeled from that mental image, Oliver calmly gave his word:
"Sniper."
"Sniper, understood," the receptionist noted, slightly puzzled but not questioning the choice.
She turned to V with a professional smile. "And for you, sir?"
V paused, then answered quietly.
"…Sun."
.
.
.
🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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