I’m just working my way through it Cyberpunk 2077 after years of waiting for the all-clear that the problems had been resolved. And while it’s fantastic at helping you lose yourself in its dystopian setting, I have one major problem with the roleplaying game: V, the main character, is kind of an asshole, sometimes in ways you can’t even control.
Well, look, I’m fine playing an idiotic video game character. Most video game characters are idiots! In the case of Cyberpunk 2077, it’s completely understandable why V isn’t soft and cuddly in many of her interactions. Night City is a hellhole of biblical proportions, a sprawling, corporate-run metropolis where the average citizen is in constant danger of dying in the crossfire of constant gang wars. V is very much a product of this environment, and while they are capable of being sweet and gentle, their first reaction to any situation is likely to be sarcastic or blunt.
However, one less satisfying interaction that I keep running into is more of a problem with game mechanics than writing.
Afterlife is an exclusive Night City bar that only serves as a meeting place for the most respected mercenaries. I visited the facility regularly, both to move Cyberpunk 2077Advance main story missions and take on side jobs. During one such mission, V and his best friend Jackie Welles chat with Afterlife’s bartender, a charming woman named Claire Russell, about what it takes for someone to get a drink named after them.
Claire says there’s only one requirement: “Snort it in a stunningly spectacular way.”
When V returns to the bar after a disastrous adventure ends in Jackie’s death – which was less jaw-droppingly spectacular and more depressingly inconsequential – V learns that Claire not only remembered his favorite drink (and last drink), but also drank it Afterlifes menu added name. And although Claire becomes a close confidant of V as the game progresses, it was in these opening hours with this small act of kindness that she endeared herself to me.
Claire should welcome you Cyberpunk 2077 Players act as a merchant selling a variety of alcoholic beverages each time they return to Afterlife. I try to check in on her from time to time as a personal role-playing exercise, but I feel like a scumbag every time I mindlessly run through the neon-lit dive and hear her fading voice asking me if I want a drink. And even if I were to quit, the game limits my interactions with Claire – at least during these Afterlife visits – to hanging out at the bar and engaging in limited small talk. It kills me that I can’t acknowledge them with a simple “No, thank you!” on the way to the random destination that’s currently on my list. I even tried to avoid Claire’s greeting by sneaking up, but her proximity to the front door makes it impossible.
I understand that this is a very “me” issue. I don’t expect many people had the same concerns while playing Cyberpunk 2077. Claire is an NPC after all. She is not a person. However, I think what I feel is a testament to the game’s writing, which is full of similarly compelling moments of real humanity.
That’s no secret Cyberpunk 2077 had a difficult start. In fact, it was so bad that Sony removed the game from the PlayStation Network entirely and only allowed it to be sold again after six months of bug fixes and performance improvements. Playing for the first time in 2023, with the added benefit of the more powerful PlayStation 5, opened my eyes to the achievements of a game that just a few years ago I thought was hopelessly broken and far too reactionary. Cyberpunk 2077 isn’t quite the revelation it was made out to be during the pre-release hype cycle, but it’s something special – if only for its ability to make me feel like a little NPC bartender is my friend.
