Dogtown. A city within Night City. Former Pacifica subdistrict, now a fortress ruled by our favorite renegade colonel — Kurt Hansen. He ignored his exit orders post-Unification War, thumbed his nose at the Arvin Accord, carved out his private patch of land, and opened up the Black Market. But the powers-that-be don’t bat an eye — too much profit in gun trades and fat-cat deals. Kurt’s kingdom thrives behind the wall with no laws to curb him, while most dwellers teeter on the brink of poverty. But hey, they’re unshackled from corporate reign, right?
The Black Market, Dogtown’s beating heart — and the center of all trade deals. No taxes, no NCPD, no corpo jurisdiction. If you’re looking for something unique, from illegal cyberware to smuggled weapons, this is where you go. But watch your back: this place is guarded by Hansen’s mad dogs — Barghest. One false move and…
My two cents? Stick to the shadows, like any savvy shopper ought to.
Barghest, aka Kurt’s private army, rules Dogtown with an iron fist. Don't mistake them for just a bunch of unruly gangers — their core is made up of well-trained military veterans and mercs who will turn your life into hell if you step out of line. Their ranks are constantly reinforced by dozens of street kids dazed by the allure of becoming part of something bigger.
Consider it extremely dangerous. Stay out of their way and interfere only if your life is in danger.
Every day, newcomers make their way past Dogtown’s walls full of hope for a better life. Some are looking to hide, but most want to escape their dark pasts. What they don’t know is that there’s no bright future waiting for them here… They’re just changing one form of terror for another: from corpos to warlord Kurt and his loyal dogs — Barghest.
Wondering why this pile of AeroZep scrap, squatting right in the stadium’s stomach, ain’t been junked for parts yet? Well, it’s a vital part of Kurt’s wonderland. The nuclear heart nestled inside feeds Dogtown’s folks with juice, no bills attached. Toss in water, a roof overhead, all for zip… you begin to grasp the siren song of Hansen’s “utopia”.
My advice: stay away from this flame, or get burned.
Folks call it Dogtown these days, but once upon a time it was slated to be a high-rolling resort, brimming with luxury spas, ritzy casinos, and grand hotels. Then along came the NUSA’s Unification War. Rapped hard on Night City’s doorstep, spooked the big money boys. They all pulled their eddies, ran for the hills, left the dream gathering dust.
If you came here looking for paradise, too bad. You’re late.
The Pacifica project, Militech’s ace in the hole — till the game got canceled. A desperate move to buff their tarnished rep in Night City, so the story goes. But was it just a PR ploy? Or is there something more sinister lurking beneath?
Deep in my gut, a hunch is telling me to let this sleeping dog lie.
Nature’s gnarled fingers have reclaimed the once-luxurious structures, their insides now infested, crawling with gangers. Wanna glimpse rotten dreams twisted into terrible nightmares? Take a walk through the ruins. But unless you’re a nostalgia nut playing footsie with the Reaper, there are far safer places to take a stroll down memory lane.
In this corner of Kurt's concrete jungle, death always finds a way.
Kurt’s not the blood-thirsty warlord folks like to think. He’s a natural-born leader. A shrewd operator, revered by his crew. Once upon a time, he got left in the lurch by his former employer. So he flipped the script. Set up shop in Pacifica’s inner sanctum. Used his savvy on wartime hustling to hammer out his own destiny. Now, business is booming, for better or worse.
Wanna cut a deal with the devil? Go ahead. Just don't cry foul when you can't handle the heat.
The very definition of clandestine. This club, owned by Hansen and located on top of his sanctuary, lures in elite players not just from Night City but from around the world. It's a secure place to make all sorts of shady deals — secure from all except the watchful eye of Kurt, naturally.
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