So there I was, V, the merc who's slowly turning into a walking relic, waiting for Solomon Reed to call. Two in-game days after the quiet tension of "Lucretia My Reflection," my holo finally rang. Reed's voice came through with that tired, patriotic drawl: "Meet me at The Moth. We're not alone in this." I should've known that in Dogtown, "not alone" means either backup or another person pointing a gun at your head.
The Damned is one of those missions where I realized Phantom Liberty loves to play with trust like a cat with a half-dead mouse. It's a rollercoaster of reunions, grudges, and netrunners who definitely didn't sign up for this. If you've tangled with the Voodoo Boys before, you already know they spell disaster with a capital B. And guess what? We're diving right back into their territory.
A Bar, a Bartender, and a Seven-Year Grudge
I headed down to the south side of Dogtown, right into that little market district where The Moth sits, all neon and grime. The mission marker made me wait until evening, so I grabbed a synth-coffee at a stall just outside and watched the street vendors pack up. When the sky got dark enough, I walked inside — and immediately the cheery bartender, Daphne, greeted me like we were old friends. Something felt off, but hey, free smiles in Night City are rarer than a functioning metro, so I ordered a drink and settled onto a stool.
Then Solomon walked in, and Daphne's mood did a full 180. She told every single patron to get out — except V and Reed. The doors locked. And suddenly I was watching a bartender pull a gun on my FIA contact.
Turns out Daphne wasn't Daphne at all. She was Alex, an undercover agent who'd been stranded in Dogtown for seven years, cut off from everyone, convinced Reed had left her to rot. The digital camouflage peeled away, and there she was: furious, betrayed, and ready to put a bullet in old Solomon's head. Now, I could've just talked her down, but my Reflexes were high enough to disarm her with a slick move — and honestly, it felt good to show off a little. Pulling out the FIA coin finally convinced her we were on the same side.
She stormed outside for a cigarette, and Solomon just stood there, looking like a guilty puppy. Following her out into the fresh air gave me a chance to ask some questions. Alex made one thing crystal clear: she wanted retirement. A spy's retirement, which probably means a bungalow on a tropical island and a lifetime supply of synth-liquor. Promise her that, and she was back on the team. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy — seven years undercover is seven years too many.
Slide into Danger
Back inside, Alex told us we needed a certain blind netrunner named Slider. He was a Voodoo Boys asset, and she gave us the coordinates. Leaving The Moth, I noticed Johnny Silverhand leaning against a tree in the middle of the market — a memorial for the dead. He was all philosophical about memories and legacies. I could've told him to get lost, but who am I to refuse existential musings from a digital ghost? We shared a moment before I hopped on my motorcycle and rode toward the Voodoo Boys compound.
The place was lousy with guards. I had two options: go in guns blazing or find a sneaky route. Now, I've never been a fan of subtlety when a Crusher shotgun does the talking, but I decided to check the perimeter first. To the right of the entrance, there's a door that needs a ridiculous 20 Strength to force open — not my style. So I looked up, spotted a red crate, and climbed onto the roof. Inside, I had to navigate a ventilation shaft rigged with traps (thank you, 3 Intelligence, for saving my skin). Stealth took an eternity, and honestly, I regretted it halfway through. If you're reading this in 2026 and still haven't played Phantom Liberty, just go loud. It's more fun, and the Voodoo Boys deserve every bullet.
Whether you sneak or slaughter, you'll end up in Slider's inner sanctum. The guy can't see, but plugged into his chair, he sees everything. He recognized me as the one who iced Mama Brigitte, if that's how your story went. But he didn't care about revenge — he knew this wasn't a negotiation. We were here to use him, and he knew it.
Slider told me to jack in so he could examine the Relic and whatever Songbird had done to it. I didn't have a choice, really. Once inside the virtual hellscape, I glimpsed the truth: Songbird was tapping the Blackwall, the digital equivalent of playing with a nuke. Slider acted as the bridge, and while I was out there asking Songbird rushed questions, the real world was frying his brain. The conversation ended with Slider screaming, the Blackwall swallowing him whole, and the Daemon server exploding. I jacked out to find his chair empty and Johnny watching Reed with the stink-eye of judgment.
There's no saving Slider. It's heavily implied Reed would have killed him anyway — another layer of gray morality in an already murky story. The Voodoo Boys lost another chunk of their operation, and I had to fight my way back out. With their precious server gone, the remaining guards were pushovers. Outside, Solomon and I debriefed, and he told me to call Mr. Hands, our fixer. Then he walked off into the shadows, probably to brood about Alex and the seven years he can never get back.
What I Learned From The Damned
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Always expect betrayal in Dogtown. Always.
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Stealth might sound cool, but sometimes it's just a longer route to the same bloodbath.
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Johnny Silverhand is surprisingly good company at a memorial tree.
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The FIA coin is the ultimate "calm down" tool.
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Netrunners have the worst life expectancy in Night City.
This mission cemented my love-hate relationship with Phantom Liberty. It's messy, emotional, and full of consequences you can't escape. If you haven't played it by 2026, what are you waiting for? Even the Voodoo Boys have had their servers rebuilt by now — maybe.