Cyberpunk: The Magnet fruit

David left the box and returned to the bar, his mind still buzzing with the recent events.

"How's it going, kid?"

Claire, the bartender and his mentor, asked while expertly mixing a drink. She glanced at him with a sly smile. "I bet you made a good stack of tips on this little delivery run, huh?"

David paused, then chuckled as he nodded.

Inwardly, though, he couldn't help but wonder: Did Sister Claire intentionally send me on that delivery run?

After all, Claire, as the bartender of the renowned Afterlife Bar, knew the quirks and temperaments of every regular patron like the back of her hand.

It made perfect sense for her to choose David to deliver drinks to the infamous crew from the Mann team.

The thought warmed his heart.

"Hey, you little punk!"

Claire finished mixing a drink, set it aside, and wiped her hands. She shot him a half-serious glare. "I'm heading to the restroom. Hold down the fort while I'm gone, alright? And for the love of everything, don't cause any trouble!"

Her tone, though laced with teasing, reflected the trust she'd gradually placed in him.

"No problem," David said, giving her an exaggerated salute. He grinned. "Take your time, Sister Claire. As long as I'm here, this bar won't crumble."

"You brat," Claire muttered, rolling her eyes. "You're picking up all the bad habits from this place." She left, muttering under her breath, her heels clicking as she headed to the restroom.

With the bar bustling with life and most guests distracted by the lively music and chatter, there were no immediate orders for David to handle.

Taking a moment to himself, he began preparing a drink for one of the regulars, Rebecca.

He filled a glass two-thirds of the way with ice, added soda water, a splash of lime juice, and garnished it with a fresh mint leaf.

The carbon dioxide bubbles fizzed and danced in the glass as David studied his handiwork.

"Perfect," he murmured, satisfied. "Rebecca's gonna love this one."

Just as he was about to set it aside, a voice interrupted him.

"Hey, kid, where's Claire?"

David looked up to see a man seated at the bar.

"Uh, Sister Claire went to the restroom," he replied. "Can I help you with something?"

The moment David got a proper look at the man, he froze in surprise.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a black jacket with a dark red lining. His head was clean-shaven, and his mature features hinted at someone in his mid-forties or early fifties.

Despite his tough demeanor, there was an unmistakable warmth in his smile.

David recognized him instantly.

This was Jack Wells, a character who anyone familiar with "Cyberpunk 2077" would know in a heartbeat.

Loyal, humorous, and larger than life, Jack Wells was a beloved figure among fans.

"Jack's here?" David thought, startled. "Man, the Afterlife Bar is pulling in all the big names tonight."

"Claire's in the bathroom?" Jack repeated, leaning back on his stool. "Guess I'll wait for her to come back and whip me up something good."

As he spoke, Jack's eyes wandered toward the dance floor, where the crowd swayed and moved to the beat of the music. His face lit up with excitement.

"Geez," he said with a grin. "Those girls on the dance floor are somethin' else."

David couldn't help but chuckle. Classic Jack.

"Well, if you don't mind waiting for Sister Claire, how about I mix you a drink in the meantime?" David offered, stepping forward.

"You?" Jack gave him a skeptical look. "You new here? I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Yeah, I'm pretty new," David admitted with a nod. "But trust me, I know my way around a cocktail shaker."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Alright, kid. But just so we're clear—if the drink doesn't hit the mark, I'm not paying for it."

"Fair enough," David replied with a confident smile. He grabbed the shaker and began preparing the drink.

As David worked, Jack watched him closely, clearly intrigued.

"So, where you from, kid?" Jack asked, leaning on the counter.

"Dragon Kingdom," David replied without looking up from his work.

"Dragon Kingdom, huh? Cool. Name's Jack Wells, but you can just call me Jack. What about you?"

"David," he replied. "You can just call me David."

Jack chuckled. "You remind me of a friend of mine. She's got the same kinda confidence. Hope she's doin' alright at the company."

David didn't press for details, focusing instead on finishing the drink.

After a few moments, he slid the glass across the counter toward Jack with a flourish.

"Here you go," he said. "Enjoy."

Jack wasted no time. He grabbed the glass, took a sip—and his eyes immediately widened in surprise.

"Holy—!" Jack exclaimed, his expression breaking into a grin. "Now that's a damn good drink! Smooth, crisp, just the right kick. You got some skills, kid!"

David smiled, relieved. "Glad you like it."

Jack set the glass down and leaned forward. "Alright, spill it. What's in this masterpiece?"

"One shot of vodka, ice, lime juice, ginger beer," David listed. Then, with a playful smirk, he added, "And since I couldn't add love, I topped it off with cherry cola."

Jack laughed loudly. "Love, huh? You're a funny one, kid."

The two shared a laugh, the easy camaraderie forming naturally.

"So, what do you call this drink?" Jack asked, swirling the liquid in his glass.

David thought for a moment, then grinned.

"Let's call it the 'Jack Wells,' in your honor."

Jack laughed again, his hearty voice carrying over the music and chatter.

"You got a good head on your shoulders, kid," he said, raising his glass in a toast. "To you, David. And to good drinks!"

David returned the gesture, feeling a surge of pride.

The night continued as the Afterlife Bar hummed with energy, its patrons lost in their own stories. For David, it was another unforgettable chapter in his journey—one where he'd earned the approval of a legend.

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