True love comes to die in Night City. Husbands cheat on wives - wives cheat on husbands. Then they divorce and talk behind each other's backs.

V: Bug, ya could at least try to be... nice.
T-Bug: You want nice, supportive? Call a damn helpline.

The wider the smile, the bigger the lies.

What, smoking after sex not Zen enough for you? We gotta rewrite "The Art of War", too?

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.