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Guess even pneumatic arms can't lift morale in a toxic workplace.
Sushi in Night City...? Sounds like suicide. And somehow disrespectful.
V: Doesn'T it bother you?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.
You ever hear the saying "No good deed goes unpunished"? You hold your hand out to someone, you get bitten. You help a poor soul in need, you get fleeced for all you're worth. Save someone's life? Fill in the blank.
What, smoking after sex not Zen enough for you? We gotta rewrite "The Art of War", too?
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The boys have prepared everything and found me a lamb. Blood will course through the fiberoptics, swirling and blending with the digital, opening the gates of the abyss. Death within arm's reach, the metallic taste of his scythe on my tongue, I will tug at the tangled cables of Fate. A hard reset, a blue screen, a brain reformatted... I'm ready. Luck be with me.
Corpo or not, without chrome we all look like the same idiotic, bullet-riddled sacks of meat.
Sometimes two people find themselves at the wrong place at the right time.
Just when we thought Macroware was done putting out unfinished games, we get this piping hot plate of spaghetti code. Frankly, I don't even know where to start. From the "story mode" which feels like it was cobbled together from the half-baked ideas of six writers working in different time zones, to the non-intuitive tutorials, to the ridiculous lag that had me up making a fresh cup of coffee between each punch, and finally to the head-scratching localization foul-ups. (Honestly, the dialogues make no sense in any language. What the hell were they originally written in? Swiss?)
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Łasice pozdrawiają wilki
Weasels salute the wolves
V: So, Padre. You think Jackie's looking don upon us... from up there?
Padre: I believe he has met God, stood before him.
V: That's it?
Padre: I don't know if God left the meeting happy, but I'm pretty certain Jackie did.