How V Became Mr. Hands' Favorite Merc in Phantom Liberty's Get It Together

The year is 2026, and Night City’s Dogtown district still chews up mercs for breakfast. Three years after Phantom Liberty dropped, V’s misadventures remain a masterclass in how to turn a simple infiltration into a full-blown networking event. Right after tangling with Songbird in The Damned, our chrome-loving protagonist faces a new headache: cracking into the Black Sapphire, Kurt Hansen’s fortress where luxury meets lockdown. The mission Get It Together isn’t just a step forward—it’s the moment V learns that in Dogtown, favors are currency, and Mr. Hands holds the ledger.

First things first: V’s phone buzzes with purpose. Mr. Hands answers with that oily charm, and boy, does he love a good scratch-my-back-first deal. No cryptic riddles here—just a blunt request. If V wants a golden ticket to the Black Sapphire, three Gigs need doing, pronto. Hands wants to tighten his grip as Dogtown’s preem Fixer, and V is the perfect blunt instrument. “Buckle up, sunshine,” the game practically whispers, “you’re about to earn that invitation.” It’s a clever nudge from the devs, too—Phantom Liberty stuffed nine shiny new Gigs into the map, and Hands dangles them all. V just picks three green icons, waypoints a path, and gets cracking. Pro tip: spec those shiny new Perks beforehand, or a flatlined V is no good to anyone. Once the jobs are wrapped up with professional flair (or messy explosions, no judgment), Hands coughs up an access code—2589—and an address at the Heavy Hearts Club. Meme material, right there.

Into the club V struts, past the bartender with a knowing smirk, and into an elevator that smells faintly of old synth-leather and ambition. Punching in 2-5-8-9 feels like unlocking a loot box, except the prize is a first-class ticket to Floor 3’s Private Rooms. What awaits isn’t another voice on a holo call—it’s Mr. Hands, in the flesh, lounging like a pharaoh in his Ancient Egyptian-themed den. If V nailed those Gigs without too much collateral damage, Hands practically purrs with praise. The office drips with character: gold accents, cryptic statuettes, the aura of a man who knows where every body is buried. He offers tea—because nothing says trust like a hot beverage from an info-broker—but V can sip or skip. The real treasure? A data shard with the Black Sapphire’s blueprints, handed over after an optional history lesson about Kurt Hansen’s takeover starting with Midnight Storm. Smart mercs listen; the lore is juicier than a synth-orange. When the teacup is empty, V saunters out, blueprint in pocket and a new ally in tow.

Time to share the loot. A quick call to Solomon Reed pushes the data through while V heads back to The Moth. But Johnny Silverhand’s old nemesis—the Relic—chooses this moment to throw a tantrum. A sudden blackout, a stumble on the stairs, and then… Reed’s there, catching V with that haunted, “I know the feeling of being a dead man walking” vibe. It’s a rare quiet beat. The game lets the moment breathe, no combat chatter, just two ghosts comparing scars before Reed leads V downstairs.

Down the elevator they go, into The Moth’s dusty belly—the Boiler Room. This isn’t some forgotten utility closet; it’s an FIA hideout, packed with enough firepower to make a corpo squad weep. Alex strides in mid-conversation, all business, interrupting Reed’s brooding over Myers and Songbird. Her infiltration plan for the Black Sapphire? Detailed, twisty, and absolutely worth grilling her about. But savvy players know the real score is the room itself. Loot the shelves, check the walls, and behind the Diving Suit station sits a crate cuddling the Militech “Falcon” Sandevistan—a slick piece of chrome that makes time beg for mercy. Then, the crown jewel: a box right beside the suit. Open it, and there lies Her Majesty, Alex’s iconic silenced pistol, glinting like a promise. Snagging it pops yet another entry into V’s ever-growing armory, and the mission fades to black.

Get It Together is peak Cyberpunk 2077 storytelling: a fetch-quest that morphs into a character-driven hangout, stuffed with optional eavesdropping and shiny toys. By 2026, players still argue whether accepting that tea changes anything (it doesn’t, but c’mon, be polite). The mission’s rhythm—work, meet, listen, loot—proves why Phantom Liberty aged like fine whiskey. It’s the kind of quest that makes a merc feel less like a tool and more like a player in Hansen’s grand chess match. Just remember to pack that Diving Suit; the next chapter’s a deep dive, literally.