Why Is Everyone Buying Mango Farms In Cyberpunk 2077?

thegamer.com:

There's an epidemic in Night City, but I'm not talking about street crime or drug addiction: I'm talking about people buying mango farms. Wherever you go in Cyberpunk's open world, from the scuzziest gangster hangout to the most elite corporate skyscraper, you find sales contracts for mango farms. Thousands of them, scattered across desks and coffee tables, stuffed into filing cabinets, and stuck on walls. In every corner of this dystopian metropolis people are buying mango farms. So many mango farms. Endless mango farms.

This is, of course, a generic decorative asset used to clutter up the world in Cyberpunk 2077. I'm assuming that whenever an environment artist needed some paper to make an office look untidy, they pulled in this mango farm contract and scattered it around. The problem is, Cyberpunk 2077 is a game that encourages players to take a closer look at its world. There's even a zoom button, which makes weird, heavily reused assets like this actively distracting. Once your brain locks onto them, you can't help but see them everywhere.

Related: Neon Struct Is The Best Cyberpunk Immersive Sim You've Never Played

It's extra distracting because you canread it. If it was just a few blurry, indistinct lines designed to give the suggestion of text—as most paper props are in video games—I wouldn't give it a second thought. But I find myself stopping, zooming in with my cyber eye, and reading the finer details of the deal. Now I know that the farm is called Katamary Farm, it cost $100,000 (with a deposit of $50,000), and the deal was struck on October 27, 2020. There are also a few spelling errors which makes me doubt whoever drew it up's legal credentials.

I know this is a bizarre thing to fixate on. I'm mostly just