Harry Potter, the savior of Night City

Good morning, Night City!

Yesterday's dead-man lottery had a total of 70 winners! Thanks to the endless gang warfare, over fifty died in Watson District alone...

Stanley's familiar voice came on the TV, broadcasting a summary of what happened in Night City yesterday. Hedwig was chirping incessantly in her birdcage because Harry had only fed her one meal yesterday, and she was still hungry.

And Harry? Harry was still sleeping on his stomach in bed. He didn't wake up until midday. And it wasn't even a natural wake-up; Harry rolled over in bed and fell to the floor, waking up.

"Oh, my head." Harry clutched his head. The feeling of being drunk was even worse than overdosing on Sinweistan. He first took off his clothes, went into the bathroom and took a cold shower to wake up his still-sleeping body. Then he grabbed a handful of owl food and fed it to Hedwig. Of course, it was inevitable that Hedwig would peck him.

He suddenly remembered that the thing in his head seemed to be absorbing souls to accumulate energy. Harry looked at the energy bar and saw that it was only 70%. How was this soul absorption judgment determined? Could it be that the souls of Night City people are generally weak?

Harry shook his head, stopped thinking about it, changed his clothes, grabbed his weapon and went out. He thought for a long time but didn't know where to go. Finally, he remembered what he had planned to do yesterday, so he turned around and headed towards Mrs. Wells's Wolf Bar.

"It's been quite a while since I've seen Mrs. Wells..."

Harry stood in front of the Wild Wolf Bar. The bar's electronic doors opened, and Peppy, the bartender, was standing behind the bar serving drinks. Hearing the door open, he looked up, and upon seeing who it was, exclaimed with delight, "Harry! It's you! I haven't seen you in months. The priest told me you went on a long trip. How was it? Is it much better there than Night City?"

"Oh Peppy, why are you asking this too?" Harry sat down at the table helplessly. "That place is no better than this damn Night City."

"That's true." Peppy nodded in agreement, then took out a glass and filled it with whiskey. "Here you go, it's on me."

"Thank you," Harry said, picking up his glass and drinking it all in one gulp. He then put the glass down and asked, "Is Mrs. Wells here? I haven't seen her in a long time."

"She is..."

"Harry!" Peppy was interrupted by a woman's voice before he could finish speaking. A woman who looked to be in her fifties or sixties ran over and stroked Harry's cheek.

Harry did not resist, but simply watched as the woman in front of him searched for wounds on his body.

"Mrs. Wells, I'm fine, I just went on a long trip..."

"You think it's all over just because you say so? Hurry up, unless you want to end up like Jack."

Mrs. Wells ignored Harry's explanations and examined him for a full ten minutes before finally finding a dent on his back that hadn't been repaired yet—the result of a grenade explosion the day before.

"You said you were perfectly fine! Dios mío (God), look at this area, does it hurt?"

This is why Harry both liked and felt helpless about Mrs. Wells. She cared for the children she liked like a mother hen, but sometimes, in Harry's eyes, it was just too much care.

"Mrs. Wells, I'm really fine..." Harry replied helplessly. "I'll just go find Old Will to fix it up later." He then gently pulled his hand away from hers and straightened his clothes.

"You silly child, you're not even as old as Jack, yet you've already gone off into the world before him." Mrs. Wells crossed herself. "I really wish Jack hadn't gone out into the world. I don't want him to die in a roadside rubbish heap, but now, given his condition, it's hard to say..."

Mrs. Wells looked at Harry, thinking of her son and the other members of the Wells family, sighed, and squeezed Harry's hand tighter.

"Mrs. Wells, don't worry, I've met your son. With his big build, he's stronger than the Animals. He'll be fine," Harry reassured Mrs. Wells. He liked this old woman and didn't want to see her sad.

"Harry, don't try to comfort me. I know Jack better than you do, hmph," Mrs. Wells said with a snort.

"Mom, you're talking bad about me again." The back door of the bar opened, and a kind but unruly voice came out. Harry and Mrs. Wells both turned to look. A burly man wearing a black coat and with his hair in a bun walked in. He wasn't as strong as Mann, but he was already more than half the size of the animal gang.

"Jack, this is Harry." Mrs. Wells ignored his bad comments about him and instead introduced Harry to him.

"Mom, you can't do this." Jack pouted, then walked up to Harry and held out a hand. "Jack Wells, just call me Jack. Maybe we'll even be in the same line of work someday."

Harry placed his hand on hers. "Harry Potter, I look forward to fighting alongside you."

"Alright, boys, it's almost lunchtime. What would you like to eat?" Mrs. Wells glanced at the time and suddenly said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Wells, I really would like to eat here, but I have to go to Old Vina..."

"Mom, me too..."

"Shut up, you two!" Mrs. Wells looked small next to Harry and Jack, but when she yelled, both Harry and Jack felt a headache coming on. "What do you want to eat? Tell me."

Hearing Mrs. Wells' stern voice, Harry and Jack exchanged a helpless smile. "Braised tofu fried noodles" and "Braised beef rice bowl." They each ordered an Asian dish, although not to mention the beef, even the flour for the noodles was synthetic.

"That's right, what's the point of doing anything but having a good meal? Is there anything more important than having a meal with your family at home?" Mrs. Wells laughed as she walked towards the back door to prepare lunch.

"That's how my mom is, but it's normal. She's afraid I'll end up in a garbage dump like the other Wells family members." Jack and Harry were sitting at a table, and Jack started the conversation.

“I understand. The priest never lets me take on missions that are life-threatening for me. He says, ‘Small commissions are for the dead, but taking big commissions is stupid.’ But I don’t really agree with him. Sometimes I secretly take on big jobs, and of course, I get scolded a lot for it,” Harry said.

"Harry, what's life like as a mercenary? I keep hearing people in the gang rave about how great it is, and it's making me want to become one myself, but my mom... you know." Jack smiled helplessly and asked Harry.

"Small jobs are like stealing something, downloading a virus, or at most assassinating someone. Big jobs, on the other hand, involve crawling around like a mouse in a hail of bullets, and you have to dodge the eyes of hackers. How to put it? If you succeed, great, you can relax for a while afterward, and even go to Cloud Peak to play with your idols. But if you fail, not only will you not get paid, but the middleman won't give you any more good jobs, and you'll have to start all over again. You never know when someone will be chasing you. It's not an easy job," Harry summarized for Jack, recalling the setbacks he had suffered before.

"That's what makes it challenging, that's what makes it exciting! It's so much better than just holed up in my little corner all day!" Jack was practically having a brain orgasm. "You know what, Harry? I've always wanted to be one of those legends. Think about it, Johnny Silverhand, Morgan Blackhand, Andrew Whelan, wow."

"Becoming a legend isn't that easy. The simplest way is to lure out that legend-making machine, Adam Hammer, and then get killed by him. But even luring out Adam Hammer is quite an achievement. How many people at that level want to meet their maker?"

"Harry, you don't understand, I..."

"Alright, legends, now your task is to fill your poor bellies." Before Jack could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Mrs. Wells' voice. Two large bowls were placed in front of them. Harry looked at the bowls in front of him, which were bigger than his face, and filled with noodles, tofu, and shredded meat. He swallowed hard, looked up and saw Mrs. Wells' smiling face, then lowered his head and began to eat, feeling both pain and pleasure.