Neon bleeds into the smog-choked night, flickering like a dying heartbeat over cracked asphalt and rain-slick pavement. The city never sleeps—hell, it barely blinks. From the mirrored towers of Corpo Plaza, where the sharks in designer suits carve up the world with a keystroke, to the labyrinthine backstreets of Watson, where a bullet’s cheaper than a meal, Night City is a beast that devours the desperate, the ambitious, and the foolish in equal measure.
Out in the streets, deals are made with a handshake and broken with a bullet. Every gutter rat and corpo shark is clawing for more—more eddies, more chrome, more power. You can feel it in the air, thick with Choo², burnt circuits, and the stink of desperation. This place doesn’t care who you are or where you came from. The only thing that matters is what you do.
You could play it safe, keep your head down, and scrape by like the rest of the poor bastards trapped here. But that’s not you. You came to burn bright, to defy, to carve your name into the bones of this city so deep that not even time can scrub it out.
Night City will try to bury you. Make damn sure it never forgets you.
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Lore Primer