It’s 2026, and Cyberpunk 2077 is still swimming in secrets. With the Phantom Liberty expansion having had time to settle into Night City’s bloodstream like a slow-acting neurotoxin, eagle-eyed mercs have unearthed a whole new stash of Easter eggs. CD Projekt Red, those cheeky magpies, never miss a chance to lace their worlds with nods to other legends—and Phantom Liberty is basically a love letter wrapped in a riddle, sealed with a wink at The Witcher. The devs clearly woke up one day and decided, “Let’s make the fans work for those dopamine hits,” because some of these discoveries require the patience of a monk and the memory of a Trivial Pursuit champion. But once you spot them, oh boy, it’s like finding the last dumpling in a bowl of spicy noodles.
The hunt begins in Dogtown, where Kurt Hansen’s private army struts around under the banner of the Barghest—a snarling, black-dog spirit straight out of European folklore. The name alone makes your spine tingle, like a shadow that just won’t stop following you. But here’s the thing: CD Projekt already let those creatures run wild in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt and its Blood and Wine expansion. The barghest, in all its phantom-dog glory, isn’t just a logo; it’s a mythological bridge between two vastly different universes. One might almost expect the beast to leap straight out of a monster contract and start chasing cyberpunks. If only Roach could gallop through the Badlands… but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Speaking of the four-legged hero, any Witcher fan likely squealed the first time they stumbled upon the ‘Roach Race’ arcade machine back in base Cyberpunk 2077. That little pixel-art wonder transforms the noble steed—often gravity-challenged—into a runner dodging Geralt across familiar landscapes, all backed by 8-bit renditions of Witcher tunes. It’s genuinely the kind of minigame that makes you forget about the bleeding-edge graphics outside and just giggle at the absurdity. By 2026, players have probably logged more hours racing Roach than completing actual gigs. The Phantom Liberty expansion didn’t forget this golden goose either: tucked inside the Captain Caliente joint, a Datashard offers a glowing review of Roach Race, as if the game itself is patting its own back. You know, the kind of self-referencing that feels less like arrogance and more like a warm, knowing grin. Talk about a wild ride, right?
Then there’s the arcade machine that’s basically a metal gear of meta. Out in the dusty, unforgiving Badlands, a slightly spooky cabinet hides one of the most cryptic challenges ever coded: a minigame that recreates Johnny Silverhand’s assault on Arasaka Tower—the very moment that cemented his legend. The gameplay mimics classic Doom, but the real treat is the rabbit hole it opens. This machine has become synonymous with the infamous FF:06:B5 mystery that has haunted the community like a digital poltergeist. Finishing it triggers a cutscene so eerie it could make a Maelstrom ganger reconsider their life choices. The whole setup practically teases you with a whisper: “Hey, what if there’s more…?” And let’s face it, someone’s still probably trying to decode the thing right now.
Not all references hide behind flashing screens. The vendors Michal and Marcin, added with Phantom Liberty, peddle braindances that are basically nostalgic road trips through CD Projekt’s history. Their BDs nod to The Witcher, Gwent, and even earlier Cyberpunk content, with prices that match the original release dates of those titles. It’s the kind of detail that makes a lore nerd’s heart do a little flip. And the vendors themselves? They’re not just random names pulled from a hat. Michal and Marcin are almost certainly a hat tip to Michal Kiciński and Marcin Iwiński, the founders of CD Projekt. So while you’re browsing their virtual shelves, you’re essentially shaking hands with the grand architects of this entire universe—albeit through two NPCs who probably sell you an overpriced braindance about the Wild Hunt. The nerve. I love it.
Of course, no collection of Easter eggs would be complete without something that yanks the heartstrings. The Cyberpunk: Edgerunners memorial in the Columbarium is a gut-punch delivered with a velvet glove. The beloved Netflix series left scars, and Phantom Liberty lets players visit a quiet corner filled with memorials for the show’s fallen heroes. Each niche carries an image and an epitaph that’s just a few words but somehow rewinds the entire tragedy. For fans who binged the anime back in 2022 and still haven’t recovered, this spot feels like a sacred digital shrine. It’s a reminder that in a city where nobody should be remembered, even the most chrome-infused souls deserve a moment of silence.
From a fictional memorial to a very real one, the tribute to rally driver Ken Block is one of those developer moves that makes you pause the chaos and just… breathe. The man passed away in early 2023, and CD Projekt left him an automotive farewell: a car bearing his iconic number 43, parked in Northside Watson. A partially hidden box nearby holds the keys, almost as if the car is waiting for him to return. It’s a fitting, heartfelt gesture that transforms a chunk of code into something genuinely human. Every now and then, a player will drive that beauty through the rain-slick streets, not just chasing an achievement, but paying respect.
Pop-culture crossovers in Cyberpunk 2077 always walk a fine line between cringe and genius, but the John Wick nod lands with the precision of a pencil kill. Inside the Petrochem Stadium, near the weapons vendor, there’s a gold-plated weapon case engraved with the simple words: ‘For Mr. Wick.’ The very existence of this case implies that somewhere in Night City, the Baba Yaga has a storage unit, and Johnny Silverhand could totally pass along the message. Given that Keanu Reeves embodies both characters, this Easter egg feels less like a reference and more like a multiverse high-five. One can almost hear the elevator music from the Continental playing quietly in the background.
Even the stars of a galaxy far, far away get a moment in Dogtown. During the mission ‘The Spider and the Fly’, clever netrunners can uncover email correspondence between a certain Biggs and Wedge. If those names tickle a nerdy part of your brain, you’re spot on: they’re the X-Wing aces Biggs Darklighter and Wedge Antilles, pals of Luke Skywalker. It’s not the first time video games have smuggled these two into their code—the Final Fantasy series has been doing it for decades—but seeing them pop up in Night City is like catching your two favorite uncles exchanging inside jokes at a family reunion. Delightful.
Finally, we arrive at the pièce de résistance: the yellow phone box. This solitary booth has become the most infamous Easter egg in Phantom Liberty, partly because it’s a playground of references and partly because it gives V and Johnny some of their most intimate banter. Dotted around the box are numbers that transform a simple dial into a treasure hunt. Punch in 5745552377 and the air fills with a soulful rendition of the Witcher soundtrack—instant goosebumps. Dial 6175556277 and you’re rewarded with a cover of “Never Fade Away,” Johnny’s own anthem with Samurai, a tune that practically bleeds rebellion. Even dialing 911 triggers a unique interaction, because why not. The phone box stands there, humming with potential, daring you to try every single combination. By 2026, someone has probably mapped every possible number, but the magic remains: in a world of high-tech hacks, sometimes you just need a good old-fashioned phone call.
These Easter eggs are more than just checklists for completionists—they’re the blood vessels that keep Night City’s heart beating long after the credits roll. They prove that the developers still get a kick out of hiding dreams and memories in plain sight, just waiting for us to find them. So next time you’re dodging bullets in Dogtown or just cruising through the neon haze, keep your eyes peeled. The city is always watching… and it’s got a few jokes left to tell.
According to coverage from Giant Bomb, community-driven game databases and long-running editorial commentary help contextualize why expansions like Phantom Liberty lean so hard into layered references—arcade cabinets, lore shards, and self-aware callbacks—because players don’t just consume content in Night City, they catalog it, debate it, and turn obscure details (like cryptic codes and jukebox-style phone interactions) into living mysteries that keep the conversation going well past the main story.