I'm currently working my way through it Cyberpunk 2077 after years of waiting until everything was clear that the problems had been solved. And while it does a fantastic job of making you lose yourself in its dystopian setting, I do have one major role-playing related problem: V, the main character, is kind of an asshole, sometimes in ways you can't even control. .
Look, I'm okay with playing a choppy video game character. Most video game characters are assholes! In case of Cyberpunk 2077, it's completely understandable why V isn't soft and cuddly in many of their interactions. Night City is a hell of biblical proportions, a sprawling, corporate-ruled metropolis where the average person is in constant danger of dying amid the crossfire of constant gang warfare. V is very much a product of this environment, and while they can be sweet and gentle, their first reaction to any situation is likely to be sarcastic or blunt.
One less satisfying interaction I keep encountering, however, is a matter of gameplay mechanics rather than writing.
Afterlife is an exclusive Night City bar that serves solely as a meeting place for the most respected mercenaries. I have visited the establishment regularly, both to move Cyberpunk 2077's main story progress missions and pick up side jobs. During one such mission, V and best friend Jackie Welles talk to Afterlife's bartender, a charming woman named Claire Russell, about what it takes for someone to have a drink named after him.
Claire says there's only one requirement: “Sniff it in a stunningly spectacular way.”
Returning to the bar after a disastrous caper ends in Jackie's death – which was less stunningly spectacular and more depressingly meaningless – V discovers that Claire has not only remembered his favorite (and last) drink, but also added it to Afterlife's menu in his name. And while Claire becomes a confidant of V later in the game, it was during these opening hours with this small act of kindness that she endeared herself to me.
Claire is designed to welcome Cyberpunk 2077 players each time they return to Afterlife, acting as a merchant selling a variety of alcoholic beverages. I try to check in with her from time to time as a personal role-playing exercise, but I feel like an asshole every time I mindlessly rush through the neon-lit dive and hear her fading voice ask 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 having limited conversation. It pains me that I can't acknowledge her with a simple, “No, thank you!” en route to whatever goal is currently on my docket. I even tried to avoid Claire's greeting by sneaking out, but her proximity to the front door makes that impossible.
I understand that this is a very 'me' problem. I don't expect a number of people to have had the same issues while playing Cyberpunk 2077. After all, Claire is an NPC. She's not a person. However, I think what I'm feeling is a testament to the game's writing, which is full of similarly compelling moments of real humanity.
It's no secret that Cyberpunk 2077 had a difficult launch. In fact, it was so bad that Sony pulled the game completely from the PlayStation Network and only allowed it to be sold again after six months of bug fixes and performance improvements. Playing it for the first time in 2023, with the added benefit of the more powerful PlayStation 5, has opened my eyes to the performance of a game that I found hopelessly broken and far too reactionary a few years ago. Cyberpunk 2077 isn't quite the revelation it was made out to be during the pre-release hype cycle, but it's special – if only for its ability to make me feel like a little NPC bartender is my friend.