Boom, boom, boom, boom...
The riding experience of Floating Shadow was sheer torture: there was no anti-noise system, and the roaring of the engine could only be slightly dampened by stuffing something temporary between the armored panels...
Sitting inside felt like sitting in a rocket, but the noise didn't affect V and Jack's spirits, on the contrary, it was like a poor kid buying a second-hand manual sports car—the louder the engine, the more excited everyone in the car was—
"Holy shit! Company Square!"
"Holy shit, H8 Skyscraper!"
"Holy shit, billboards!"
"Holy shit... What is that? Terrorist Mobile Team?"
V, like a child leaning over the edge of a bed, couldn't stop pointing at familiar things in the distance of Night City, everything that used to give her a proper lady's graceful appearance—gown, long hair, high heels—was gone.
Most importantly, she kept yanking on Lille's head, hugging his sturdy, stiff neck, and shaking it, making squeaking noises...
