ã€ŠBio Weapon Dystopiaã€‹


 Chapter 1: Welcome to Night City.

    Early 2076

    A man tapped his fingers with his arms crossed as he checked the glass chamber where a black goo was. The thing looked like a mix of a plasma and a liquid, toxic or acid enough to melt the skin of anyone who touched it, as that was proven true before. First, the tests consisted in using the cloned animals that the higher-ups could provide, then it was tested in some Scavs, criminals that no one would really care, not even the common gonk of Night City would miss them, so NCPD was more than eager to land a help at their little project.

    How wouldn''t they? The Corporations bank their jobs, of course they''d help.

    However the last few days of testing were¡­ interesting. The [Project Klyntar v1.0] had a lot of setbacks, too many risks, and even so they game full greenlight to the project. Sometimes the man questioned how BioTechnica could think some of these stuff are fine to do given the unsurmountable risks it posed, but he is just a scientist, barely a Ripper Doctor. He studied biology and viruses, not how to replace missing limbs with chrome. Still, even with his lack of knowledge, he thought that maybe this was going too far.

    The door slide aside as the chief researcher entered the room. She had a brown-redish hair, is 177cm tall, a fair shape, given her job, not enough to be mesmerizing, but nothing to throw away. Her lab coat covered the red undershirt that she is using, some black pants and high heels, even though there was no need to use something so obnoxious in a place like this. What was also unnecessary was that she still used glasses, even though they lived in an era where they could just buy optics and never have to use glasses anymore, she still refused to do it. Saying that her mandatory chrome was enough.

    ¡°Vomi.¡±, The man said with no tone in his voice.

    ¡°How''s the subject?¡±, The woman asked as she brushed her hair with her fingers, completely ignoring presentations.

    ¡°It is stable.¡± He informed, but quickly changed the subject, his voice showing not concern or worry, but something similar, ¡°Are you sure you want to proceed without methods? We are lucky they allowed the previous tests, and you are incredibly lucky that they allowed you to test it in yourself.¡±

    Indeed it was a miracle. It was Bio-Engineering, something that BioTechnica was more than capable of, but never in humans, and especially in such depth and risk. Vomi tested things on herself that people would never really get close, even when necessary, her eyes being deep, probably from nights without sleep or the DNA she injected in herself to test the Klyntar project more thoroughly. Her eyes, once a shy blue now turned into cyan, an almost white shade, her skin more pale than anyone else''s and her voice progressively becoming harsher as her vocal cords became more damaged.

    Yet, she refused to chipp in, something that the people responsible for the project could care less about, as long as it was successful.

    ¡°They won''t allow me to test in live subjects, so I will need to test it myself.¡±, She said as she took a syringe and applied in her chest.

    She didn''t show any reaction to the nanobots she injected, but it was obvious she jerked slightly at the pain.

    ¡°You are the best scientist in this building. Losing you is something they won''t accept.¡±, The man demurred, his protest sounding more like a pout than genuine care, ¡°Even if your research is stored, only you would have the patience to actually redo all the work.¡±

    ¡°Yes, no one is as psycho as I am in this project.¡±, Vomi snorted at the thought, completely unperturbed by the prospect of her death, ¡°Besides, this is the most secure project this corporation has created. They will destroy every file of it. Can''t leave traces to Arasaka, Kang Tao and other minor corpos.¡±

    The man grimaced, but then nodded, ¡°Then, if this is a failure, let me tell you that working with you has been the most gruesome and unpleasant thing that happened in my life.¡±

    ¡°I thought the same.¡±, She said with a tired smile.

    ¡°Alright, everything is settled to start the procedure.¡±, Another scientist said as he held a tablet with graphs.

    Vomi changed to another set of clothes, putting a set of light blue pants and shirt, being left barefoot and her glasses removed for the time being. A gray undershirt appeared too, but the long sleeves were quickly rolled up so her forearms were visible. She sat near a chair with countless wires and syringes that were slowly applied at her arms, neck and back, as the chair slowly approached the previous glass chamber where the Bio Weapon resided. Her arm was placed in a sealed hole where it would later open so the test could begin, the room filled with nervousness, but Vomi was strangely calm.

    Maybe it was the many dosages of vitamins and maybe Beta Blockers so she would just vegg in the chair, but giving the past interactions with her, no one was sure.

    ¡°Proceeding to record the test.¡±, Another person said, ¡°File 001, Test of Project-K v1.0, starting now.¡±

    <hr>

    The cleanup crew was honestly grateful to not be here sooner.

    The place was completely destroyed. Countless rooms, labs and floors were broken and reduced to a mishmash of complete carnage and destruction. Footage was barely recovered, the only thing being a log of the starting procedure and the personnel involved.

    File 001, Test of Project-K v1.0, Continuing...

    Early 2076, Night City

    Subject: Dr. Vomi Reed

    The room dimmed, leaving only the cold, clinical glow from the machinery as the test proceeded. The faint hum of devices buzzed in the background, a steady rhythm amidst the unnerving silence. Several researchers stood behind reinforced glass, their eyes fixated on the central chamber.

    Vomi¡¯s body tensed slightly as the bioweapon containment unit began its slow release. The black goo, suspended in its chamber, quivered in anticipation, seemingly alive with its own malevolence energy. A low hiss escaped the seals as the first batch of the substance was injected into the arm chamber where Vomi''s limb rested.

    12:15 AM

    The bioweapon made contact with her skin.

    Instantly, her body reacted. Vomi inhaled sharply, her muscles twitching involuntarily as the black goo began to interact with the nanobots in her bloodstream. The mixture of organic material and nano-engineering fused, spreading along her veins like black tendrils beneath the surface of her pale skin.

    ¡°Nanobots integration at 15%,¡± a voice crackled over the intercom. The man from before¡ªhis fingers now clenched around the tablet¡ªwatched anxiously as the data flowed in.

    The black mass continued its invasive journey, sinking into her tissues, seemingly attaching itself to her very cellular structure. Vomi clenched her teeth but remained composed, her breathing steady despite the visible strain on her body.

    12:17 AM

    Something shifted.

    Suddenly, her vitals spiked. Heart rate, body temperature, and neural activity all shot up, setting off alarms in the control room. The researchers exchanged worried glances. A low, guttural sound escaped her lips, and her eyes¡ªthose unnaturally pale cyan eyes¡ªglowed faintly as if something inside her was waking.

    ¡°Integration at 40%,¡± the tablet-wielding scientist announced, his voice now more urgent.

    But Vomi didn¡¯t flinch. Her eyes closed, her body still, as the black goo enveloped her arm entirely, slipping under her skin like a living parasite. Her pale skin now pulsed with inky veins, the bioweapon seeping into her bloodstream, coiling around her bones and nerves like some foreign intelligence mapping out its new host.

    12:20 AM

    Vomi¡¯s breathing became labored.

    The nanobots inside her system were trying to combat the bioweapon, but it was clear the integration wasn¡¯t as smooth as anticipated. Her hands gripped the armrest of the chair, knuckles white from the pressure. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

    ¡°Integration at 70%,¡± the voice over the intercom echoed again.

    A sudden tremor wracked her body, and her eyes shot open. Her once pale cyan irises were now almost pure white, glowing with an unnatural brightness. The veins in her neck bulged as she gasped for air.

    The man monitoring her vitals shot a glance at the lead scientist, his face drained of color. ¡°We¡¯re losing her. Her vitals are collapsing.¡±

    12:23 AM

    Against all logic, Vomi raised her hand, gesturing for the procedure to continue.

    ¡°No.¡± Her voice was weak, but there was no mistaking the authority in her tone. ¡°Let it¡­ finish.¡±

    They hesitated for a moment but ultimately complied. The black goo had now covered most of her arm and shoulder, disappearing beneath her clothes as it integrated with her body. Her skin shifted, darkening, almost blending with the bioweapon, as if the two were becoming one.

    12:25 AM

    Suddenly, the readings began to stabilize, only to skyrocket again.

    There was a surge, a loss of control or whatever that could explain what happened, but the Doctor immediately transformed into a creature never seen before, not even by BioTechnica and their decades of experience with unsuccessful development. Even the Worm Farms didn''t give such a monstrous thing to see. It was hard to describe. It took the shape of Dr. Vomi, but it was completely black, the same liquid form covering the entire body.

    After that, it was a bloodbath.

    The bioweapon, now fully bonded with Vomi, erupted into a frenzy. Her body twisted unnaturally as the black goo spread, engulfing her in a grotesque transformation. In mere seconds, her form was consumed, turning her into a monstrous figure a fusion of human and alien biomass. The dark, liquid-like substance dripped from her elongated limbs, its texture shifting between solid and amorphous as it pulsed with raw power. Tendrils extended from her back, writhing like living whips, as if the bioweapon itself was no longer confined to her will.

    The once silent room exploded into chaos.

    Alarms blared, and the researchers scrambled for cover behind reinforced barriers. They had no time to react. Vomi-or what remained of her-lashed out, her movements violent and swift. One of the tendrils pierced through the observation window, shattering it like brittle glass, and within seconds, the first casualty fell. A researcher, frozen in fear, was impaled through the chest, their body yanked toward the creature with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across the sterile lab as more tendrils tore through the air, decimating equipment and personnel alike.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The few survivors screamed into their comms for emergency protocols to be initiated, but it was too late. The containment procedures that had been prepared were not designed for something like this. Whatever Vomi had become was beyond their calculations, beyond the very scope of BioTechnica''s experiments.

    The black mass continued to evolve, enveloping Vomi''s frame entirely until she was unrecognizable-a hulking figure, dripping with viscous goo. Her once-human face was now a grotesque mask, eyes glowing a piercing white against the jet-black substance covering her body. The creature let out a horrifying, inhuman screech that reverberated through the lab, causing the glass to crack under the sheer intensity of the sound.

    12:30 AM

    The carnage spread.

    Those who remained in the control room tried desperately to shut down the experiment, fumbling with controls and overrides, but the system was no longer responding. The containment unit had been breached, and whatever had bonded with Vomi was beyond their control.

    One of the senior scientists, the man who had expressed concern earlier, slammed his fist against the control panel, his eyes wide with horror as he watched his colleagues fall one by one. His hands shook as he reached for a kill switch, hoping to neutralize the entire facility. But before he could act, the monstrous form that had once been Vomi turned its gaze toward the control room.

    With terrifying speed, the creature leaped through the air, crashing through the reinforced barrier as if it were paper. The scientists screamed as the darkness enveloped them, their cries cut short by the wet, sickening sounds of flesh being torn apart. Blood painted the walls in splashes of red as the beast continued its rampage, feeding on the terror it wrought.

    12:45 AM

    The building''s automated systems engaged emergency lockdown procedures, sealing off entire sections of the lab. Security drones were dispatched, but they too were no match for the creature''s speed and power. Their bullets were absorbed by the black mass, and the few shots that hit their mark did little to slow the monster down.

    As the last security drone was dismantled, and the lab fell into eerie silence, the creature stood in the wreckage, surveying its work. What was once Vomi Reed was now a weapon. An unstoppable force of destruction with no master and no limits.

    They closed up the log.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±, One of them asked.

    ¡°No clue. And given the resume of the corpos, we shouldn''t even want to know.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±

    The footage from the lab would later be deleted by BioTechnica''s cleanup team, though granted, very little could be salvaged. What remained of the scientists was barely identifiable, and the facility was written off as a catastrophic failure. All traces of Project Klyntar v1.0 were erased, its existence buried deep within BioTechnica''s vaults, never to be spoken of again.

    After all, Corporations would never show weakness or admit defeat.

    <hr>

    I woke up suddenly. I was surrounded by wrecked cars and fire, although I didn''t remember being in a car crash recently. Besides, those are really weird looking cars¡­ did new cars have been released without me knowing? I am not a car person, so that is probably why. Still, why am I here and not in my home?

    Pushing myself off the ground, I noticed the air was thick with smoke, the stench of burning metal and rubber filling my lungs. I coughed, instinctively covering my mouth with my arm. My head pounded, a dull ache radiating behind my eyes, as if I had been unconscious for hours. I tried to piece together what had happened, but nothing came to mind. My memory was a foggy mess. I didn¡¯t remember getting here, didn¡¯t remember the explosion, the wreckage, any of it.

    Glancing around, I noticed the landscape was off¡ªlike a scene from a dystopian nightmare. Buildings in the distance were really tall, their towering structures filled with advertisements, while neon signs flickered erratically through the haze. The streets were eerily empty, save for the wreckage around me, and the sky was tinged with an unnatural black void, as if the moon and the stars never existed.

    I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. What the hell happened here? More importantly, where the hell am I?

    Stumbling forward, I brushed soot off my clothes. My skin felt odd¡ªcolder than it should be. Looking down at my arms, I froze.

    My hands¡­ they weren¡¯t my hands.

    Where my skin should have been, there was something else. Something black, shiny, like liquid, yet solid. I blinked, my breath hitching in my throat as I slowly flexed my fingers. The substance moved with me, like it was a part of me¡ªlike it was me. The surface of my arms seemed to ripple slightly, as though the black mass was alive, pulsing under the skin.

    And as I felt more and more discomfortable and anxious¡­ my skin reappeared.

    Though it wasn''t my skin.

    It wasn''t even my body! It wasn''t even the correct gender!

    I stumbled further into the ruins, my breath quickening as I fought the rising fear. I had to get control, and had to understand what I had become. But the more I looked at my own body, the more alien it felt.

    The black mass stirred. I felt it move¡ªnot just around me, but within me. It responded to my thoughts, my emotions, my fear. It was as if whatever this is¡­ it was alive, connected to my very being, and somehow entirely under my control.

    Suddenly, a voice echoed in my mind. Cold. Calculating.

    "Host integrity at 95%. Weapon integration complete."

    I froze. What? I didn¡¯t speak, but it answered.

    "You are the host. We are a weapon. Complete integration achieved. Mission parameters¡­ pending."

    ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    I staggered back, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. Weapon? Host? The voice in my head was emotionless, clinical, but the implications sent a chill down my spine. I looked at my hands again¡ªmy hands¡ªand watched as the black mass pulsed beneath the surface, just waiting to emerge again.

    "What the hell are you?" I whispered, though I wasn¡¯t sure if I was asking myself or whatever was inside me.

    "We are symbiotic," the voice responded smoothly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "We provide enhanced capabilities. Survival. Power."

    I felt my stomach churn. Symbiotic? Enhanced? The engine I call brain slowly worked as I managed to picture the situation I was in. And honestly, I held my geek side as it was too confusing to jump into conclusions.

    "What did you do to me?" I demanded, my voice being surprisingly calm. And yes, it wasn''t my own voice but that hardly matters now.

    "Improved us. Integrated us. Without me, you would have perished. Together, we thrive.", The voice responded with the same cold and calculated tone, although this time with a hint of pride.

    I wasn¡¯t me anymore, that was obvious. But I also wasn''t human. Not because I have an eerie weird voice in my head but because this body¡ª my body felt different. Way more different than it had any right to be.

    Suddenly, I heard something¡ªa low hum, growing louder. I turned toward the source of the noise, my heart racing. Through the smoky haze, a drone appeared, hovering above the wreckage. It looked sleek, corporate, its camera lens focusing directly on me.

    ¡°Engaging target,¡± the drone¡¯s mechanical voice droned.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Before I could react, it fired.

    Instinctively, the black mass surged out of me, a tendril shooting up and slamming into the drone before I even realized what had happened. The drone sparked and crashed to the ground, destroyed in an instant. I stared at the wreckage, I didn''t feel¡­ endangered? At risk? Even so I was relieved that the thing wasn''t here anymore, not because it posed anything to me, but more because a nuisance was dealt with. I hadn¡¯t meant to do that. I hadn¡¯t wanted to do that. But the symbiote reacted before I could.

    "We protect the host due to inactivity," the voice said, almost soothing now. "Threat eliminated."

    That comment made me stop glancing at the drone, but focus on something else that was ripped from it. I stepped closer, awkwardly waking as the body proportions weren''t the same, but I managed. There was a very familiar logo on the chassis of the drone, and I blinked when I saw it. Then I rubbed my eyes again to look at it.

    Militech.

    Huh¡­

    ¡°Militech?!¡±

    What the hell is a Militech drone doing here? More importantly, where is here? I glanced at the skyscrapers again in the distance, making up my mind of some of the advertisements that went up the sky. NiCola, Mr. Studd, XXL Burritos, Samurai¡­

    Yeah, I was in Night City, Cyberpunk 2077.

    ¡°You seem distressed.¡±, The symbiote said in his usual.

    My brain was doing somersaults at this point. I mean, Night City? Night City?! That was supposed to be a fictional place¡ªa game, a story, not¡­ real. And here I was, standing in the middle of it, with a Militech drone smoldering at my feet and an alien symbiote in my body. Yeah, this was a lot to take in.

    ¡°You seem distressed,¡± the symbiote repeated, its tone almost curious and annoyed at repeating his question.

    ¡°No shit!¡± I snapped back, feeling my heart race. "I¡¯m in Night City! A place that shouldn¡¯t exist, and I¡¯ve got you in my head! None of this makes sense!"

    "We exist here," the symbiote said, unbothered. "You exist here. Therefore, it is reality."

    Wow, okay, thanks for the deep philosophical insight, goo monster. Real helpful.

    I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to focus. If I was in Night City, then I needed to figure out how the hell I got here¡ªand more importantly, how the hell I was going to survive. This place was a death trap even without a giant black alien blob hitching a ride in my body.

    "Okay, okay, let¡¯s just... take it one step at a time," I muttered to myself. "I¡¯m in Night City. Somehow. Got a symbiote. Cool, fine. So, uh, what do I do now?"

    "Survive," the symbiote said simply, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

    "Yeah, no kidding. But, like, how? I¡¯m not exactly equipped to deal with cyber ninjas and psychotic netrunners."

    "We are more equipped than you think," the symbiote replied, and I could almost feel it smirk.

    Before I could question that, I heard more noises in the distance¡ªthis time, footsteps. And not just one set. Multiple. I ducked behind a wrecked car, peeking out to see a group of scavs combing through the wreckage. They looked rough¡ªcyberware sticking out of their skin, mismatched gear, the kind of people who would shoot first and loot your corpse later.

    Great. Just what I needed.

    "Hide or fight?" the symbiote asked, sounding almost¡­ eager.

    "Neither.¡± I whispered. "We avoid them. I don¡¯t need to get into a firefight right now.¡±

    But as I tried to move quietly, my clumsy new body betrayed me. I tripped over a piece of debris, landing hard and making enough noise to catch the scavs'' attention. They turned toward me, guns already drawn.

    "Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Shoot the bitch!¡±

    "Fight it is," the symbiote declared, and before I could protest, my body moved, way more sharply and efficiently than I could ever do.

    I felt my muscles tighten, my senses sharpen, and suddenly, I wasn¡¯t scared anymore. I was ready. Ready to fight, ready to win.

    The scavs didn¡¯t stand a chance.

    They fired at me, but the bullets bounced off my body. I moved faster than I ever thought possible, dodging between them, disarming one with a swift strike, sending another flying with a tendril that shot out of my arm.

    In seconds, it was over. The scavs were either dead or running for their lives.

    I stood there, breathing evenly despite the action. I hadn¡¯t meant to do that, but... damn, it felt good. Powerful.

    "See?" the symbiote said. "We are equipped to survive."

    I looked down at my hands¡ªmy alien, not-so-human hands¡ªand sighed. "Yeah, I guess we are."

    But as the adrenaline faded, reality hit me again. This wasn¡¯t a game. This was real, and I had no idea how to get out of it. But one thing was clear: in a place like Night City, with a symbiote like this?

    Surviving wasn¡¯t just an option. It was the only option.

    ¡°Why don''t I feel anything?¡±, I asked as I looked at the corpses, ¡°You shouldn''t be able to suppress emotions, right?¡±

    ¡°This was already done by the host before integration.¡±, He said matter-of-factly, ¡°Or it is the natural reaction you have. People react differently with death.¡±

    ¡°I guess¡­¡±, I said, not really reassured.

    I knew stories of people that didn''t really have a reaction after killing, that feeling of catharsis never really came and they felt horrible for it. But I didn''t feel¡­ anything. So to avoid these thoughts I looked for a mirror or anything that could reflect what I looked like. It didn''t take long as I found a glass that reflected just enough for me to evaluate myself.

    And I almost snorted at the fact.

    My eyes were red, like I didn''t have any melamine in them, my skin had taken on a subtle grayish hue. My hair was long, totally black, giving a striking contrast to my skin funnily enough, and aside from my lab coat and the symbol in it of BioTechnica, all of my clothes were black. And my nails seemed to follow the trend, as they are black as well.

    Basically I was Vomi, or more known as Android 21 from Dragon Ball.

    Then I finally snorted.

    I couldn¡¯t help but let out a laugh¡ªhalf disbelief, half irony. Of all the forms I could¡¯ve taken in this twisted reality, I somehow ended up looking like a character straight out of Dragon Ball. Android 21, of all people. The BioTechnica logo on my lab coat was just the cherry on top. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

    The symbiote seemed confused. "Why are we laughing?"

    I shook my head, still chuckling. "It''s just¡­ it''s too ridiculous, y''know? I¡¯m in Night City, somehow fused with an alien symbiote, and I look like a Dragon Ball character. I mean, come on, this is some next-level weird shit."

    The symbiote remained silent for a moment before replying, ¡°This form seems optimal for your environment. Adaptable, durable, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªTotally anime,¡± I interrupted, shaking my head again, but the grin didn¡¯t leave my face. I couldn''t take the situation seriously, not with everything piled on like this. "I guess if I''m gonna survive in Night City, I might as well look badass doing it."

    "We prioritize survival. Aesthetics are secondary," the symbiote stated plainly, as if the concept of appearance was completely foreign to it.

    I stared at my reflection for a few more seconds, feeling that familiar detachment wash over me again. It was like I was observing someone else¡ªsomeone who wasn¡¯t me but also was. The strange thing was¡­ I didn¡¯t hate it. I wasn¡¯t repulsed or scared. Maybe that was the symbiote¡¯s influence, or maybe I was just too fried to care at this point.

    "Alright, symbiote," I muttered, turning away from the broken glass. "What do we do now?"

    "Continue to avoid hostile threats. Seek resources to sustain the host," it responded immediately, always focused on the practical.

    I sighed. "You know, you could at least try to sound a little less like a walking instruction manual."

    "I am not walking."

    I blinked, then laughed again. "Okay, smartass."

    As I started walking through the wreckage, I couldn¡¯t shake the surreal nature of it all. Night City stretched out before me, its neon glow flickering through the smog, and the distant hum of drones and tech filled the air. It was a world of danger, where people like me¡ªor like I used to be¡ªdidn¡¯t last long. But now? With the symbiote coursing through me, with this new body, I had a chance. A weird, anime-inspired chance, but a chance nonetheless.

    I took a deep breath. "Alright, let¡¯s find out what this city has in store for us. But first¡­ food."

    "Agreed," the symbiote responded.

    And with that, I walked deeper into the heart of Night City, ready to face whatever craziness it threw at me next. Because, honestly? After everything that had happened, nothing could surprise me anymore.

    Or so I thought.

 Chapter 2: Baby Steps. (Volume 1 Start)

    The symbiotic duo travelled by the buildings of Night City, clumsily jumping over obstacles and running so fast that the appendages needed to be used to save from a potential fall. Why were they doing this? Because, at least in Vomi¡¯s opinion, this was the coolest thing that has ever happened to her life, so she''d enjoy while she could, despite the symbiote¡¯s complaints about her ¡°showing off a bit too much¡±. Doing front flips, air tricks, slinging from a building to another¡­ basically having the time of her life. Running could easily be small jumps that covered several meters from a Jim to another or big jumps that went stores worth of height. But eventually all good things must come to an end, with a bit of reality hitting the both of them.

    They stopped at a building that was tall enough to show the landscape of the city, but not tall enough to make them stand out. She looked down at the Jig Jig Street, a place that was vaguely familiar, but in this reality is way bigger and dense than in a game. So, she sat down at the edge of the building and relaxed a bit, calming all the adrenaline that circulated her veins.

    ¡°We need to talk.¡±, The symbiote said, matter-of-fact as always.

    ¡°But I am hungry.¡±, She pouted slightly, not really in the mood to adult talk.

    ¡°Sustenance is not necessary.¡±, He countered, his voice now hinting annoyance, ¡°We don''t require nutrition, hydration or rest. Granted, it helps with the host''s integrity recovery, however, it is not necessary at this moment.¡±

    She blinked, ¡°I don''t need to eat, drink or sleep?¡±

    ¡°Nor use a bathroom.¡±, He confirmed, and she felt a slight nod.

    ¡°But what if I stink?¡±

    ¡°I wasn''t referring about that.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±, She quickly shook her head, ¡°What we need to talk about?¡±

    ¡°Parameters are pending, however we do have directives. My main directive is to follow my creator¡¯s orders above anyone else''s.¡±, He explained, patiently waiting as she absorbed those words, ¡°Even so, you claimed to be in another person''s body. That needs clarification.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, that.¡±, She nodded as the floating vehicles drove past her. Well, more like above her but the feeling is the same, ¡°I am not your creator, even though I live in her body.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Beats me.¡±, She shrugged, the symbiote feeling her confusion as well, ¡°All I knew was that I was in my room, watching a movie in the middle of the night, then fell asleep and woke up on that wreckage.¡±

    ¡°Intriguing.¡±, He said without really any emotion, ¡°My creator''s integrity was lost.¡±

    ¡°Not really?¡±, She offered trying to explain the situation, ¡°I mean, your creator''s body is still here. It just so happens that another person is living inside it.¡±

    ¡°That explanation will suffice for now. Further investigation is required.¡±, He said and left it at that, ¡°Given the circumstances, my main directive has changed. I shall obey solely the orders of this current host. What is your name?¡±

    She was about to answer, but stopped. Did it really matter which name they have in the previous life? As far as her understanding goes, she was now Vomi, at least before becoming 21, but that''s beside the point. She looked at the horizon for a while thinking of how to answer, noting the cars driving by, the countless advertising on the streets, the distant shootouts or tire screeches¡­

    Then she looked down.

    ¡°I have boobs.¡±

    ¡°Impressive observation.¡±, The symbiote spoke, and she could feel it rolling it''s eyes, even when it didn''t have any.

    ¡°I feel uncomfortable with this.¡±, She said, despite not taking his eyes out of her own chest, ¡°How should I identity myself as?¡±

    ¡°We are we. Questioning your state of being is pointless and time wasting.¡±, The symbiote shook his imaginary head.

    ¡°No, yeah, I get it. It''s just that I wasn''t a woman before, so this is¡­ unsettling¡­¡±

    The symbiote paused, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ I wasn''t female before?¡±, She offered, although hesitantly.

    There was a silence that filled the air, the faint engine rumble making itself present or a Rockerboy song faintly being heard.

    Vomi sat at the edge of the building, glancing down at her chest as if it held all the answers to this bizarre situation. It didn¡¯t. The symbiote''s confusion, while not directly visible, was palpable in the silence that followed her statement.

    "You... were not female before?" the symbiote repeated, like it was still trying to process the information.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she nodded awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. ¡°Back in my world, I was¡­ well, let¡¯s just say I wasn¡¯t exactly rocking these curves.¡±

    More silence. The symbiote was clearly not prepared for this kind of existential crisis. After all, it didn¡¯t deal with identity¡ªit dealt with survival, adaptation, cold hard facts. The gender of its host had probably never been a point of consideration before.

    "I see," it finally responded, sounding more neutral than usual. "Your current biological structure is female. Adjusting to this form will ensure optimal performance. Your discomfort is irrelevant to our function."

    ¡°Gee, thanks,¡± she muttered sarcastically, leaning back on her hands as she stared at the neon-soaked skyline of Night City. ¡°But it¡¯s not just about ¡®performance,¡¯ okay? This is weird for me. I wasn¡¯t expecting to wake up in a body that¡¯s not mine, let alone one of a different gender. It messes with your head, you know?¡±

    The symbiote paused, as if considering her words, but then it did what it always did¡ªdefaulted back to logic.

    ¡°Your physical form is temporary. Adaptation is necessary for survival. Questioning it only wastes time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you keep saying that,¡± she sighed, rubbing her temples. ¡°I get it, alright? I¡¯ll adapt. But you have to cut me some slack here. I¡¯ve got a lot to process¡ªalien symbiote, Night City, a new body¡­ It¡¯s a bit much all at once.¡±

    The symbiote remained silent, clearly not understanding the need for emotional processing but also sensing that continuing to push the point wasn¡¯t going to get them anywhere. Instead, it shifted focus.

    ¡°What is your chosen designation, then?¡± it asked. ¡°If you are not the creator of this body, and your previous identity no longer applies, what will you call yourself?¡±

    She thought about that for a moment. Her old name didn¡¯t seem to fit anymore¡ªafter all, she wasn¡¯t that person anymore, at least not physically. And being in Vomi¡¯s body felt strange too, especially since she wasn¡¯t really her either. It was like she was stuck in a limbo between two identities.

    Finally, she shrugged. ¡°I guess¡­ just call me Vomi for now. It¡¯s easier, and it fits the situation, right?¡±

    The symbiote seemed satisfied with that answer. ¡°Understood. Vomi, we will continue to function as a unit. Your identity crisis is noted but irrelevant to survival.¡±

    ¡°Great, thanks for the support, partner,¡± she muttered with a sarcastic grin, getting back on her feet. ¡°Now, can we please get some food? Even if I don¡¯t need it, I¡¯d really prefer to eat something rather than, y¡¯know, wallow in existential dread.¡±

    The symbiote didn¡¯t argue this time. Instead, it simply replied, ¡°We will locate sustenance.¡±

    With a new sense of purpose, Vomi¡ªor whoever she was now¡ªtook a deep breath and scanned the streets below. Night City was a chaotic mess of neon, violence, and opportunity, and if she was going to survive in it, she needed to keep her head straight. And maybe, just maybe, she¡¯d find a way to figure out what the hell happened to her.

    "Let¡¯s go find something to eat," she said, a hint of determination in her voice.

    The symbiote merely hummed in agreement as they leaped off the building, heading straight into the neon-lit chaos below. The duo leapt from building to building until they were street level, now walking the streets of Jig Jig, Vomi paying attention to the different and confusing establishments that it offered.

    "It is worth mentioning that our presence is still in danger.", The symbiote said as the streets seemed busy and full of people, "That Militech drone wasn''t the only thing that hunted us today."

    "You will have to explain that to me later.", Vomi said as she stared at a weird device that promised better performance at handling cars, even though it wasn''t a car piece, "But sure, I will lay low."

    "Acceptable.", It answered simply, satisfied for now.

    The streets of Jig Jig glowed with a bizarre mixture of neon signs and dimly lit alleyways. It was the kind of place where you could find anything, legal or not, and Vomi couldn¡¯t help but feel a weird mix of excitement and unease. Walking through Night City felt like stepping into an alien world, one that was both fascinating and deadly at every turn.

    As Vomi strolled through the bustling crowd, she found herself staring at the strange devices being advertised. Half the time, she didn¡¯t even understand what they were selling¡ªimplants, mods, enhancements for vehicles or bodies. Some things were straight out of sci-fi nightmares. But none of it mattered to her right now. She had one thing on her mind: food.

    "I thought you said I was laying low," Vomi remarked sarcastically, looking around at the large number of people. "Not sure this is what you meant by that."

    "The directive to stay hidden is still active," the symbiote responded, its voice calm and analytical. "However, this location allows us to blend in effectively. Everyone here has something to hide."

    "Guess that¡¯s true," Vomi muttered, eyeing a heavily modded guy walking past her with half his face replaced by chrome. ¡°Blending in, huh? Shouldn¡¯t be too hard around here.¡±

    Her stomach growled, loud enough that she felt embarrassed for a second, which was odd since she didn''t really feel the need to eat, but maybe her psychological needs made her body react to it. She scanned the street for something that looked like food¡ªat least food she¡¯d be willing to risk eating. Finally, she spotted a stall on the corner selling some kind of street meat. It didn¡¯t look entirely safe, but in Night City, that was probably the best you could hope for.

    ¡°There. That¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about,¡± Vomi said, pointing at the vendor. ¡°Gimme a minute to eat something before we deal with whatever Militech is up to.¡±

    The symbiote remained silent but didn¡¯t object, likely processing her choice as acceptable.

    Vomi approached the vendor, her mouth watering despite the dodgy quality of the food. She quickly ordered something that vaguely resemble skewers of grilled meat. The vendor looked her up and down, no doubt noticing her unusual appearance, but said nothing¡ªlikely figuring it wasn¡¯t worth asking questions in this part of town. Or maybe it was because there were people who would chrome even weirder stuff on their bodies. The Animals are one to mention.

    She didn''t have money, nor ways she knew how to pay, so she did something else: Wait for the guy to get distracted with something else and quickly take a skewer and leap to a building. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she jumped and bit the meat out of the stick.

    "Not bad," she said with a smirk, taking another bite. "See? Eating helps."

    "Sustenance obtained. Satisfaction level appears adequate," the symbiote commented dryly, as if it was checking off a box on a list.

    Vomi shook her head, amused at how businesslike the symbiote was about everything, "You really need to be less of a corpo."

    "My directive prevents it.", This was the first time that the symbiote seemed... Defensive about anything.

    Vomi raised an eyebrow at the symbiote¡¯s response. ¡°Your directive prevents you from not being a corpo? That¡¯s¡­ sad, man.¡±

    The symbiote remained silent for a moment, and Vomi could almost feel its discomfort. It wasn¡¯t like it had emotions¡ªat least, she didn¡¯t think it did¡ªbut there was something about its tone that seemed more¡­ vulnerable? No, that wasn¡¯t the right word. More rigid, like it was sticking to a script it didn¡¯t really want to follow but had no choice.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°My primary function is to adhere to the operational guidelines set by my creator,¡± the symbiote finally replied. ¡°Deviation from these parameters would result in dysfunction.¡±

    Vomi blinked, chewing on another bite of the meat. ¡°Wait, dysfunction? You mean you¡¯d basically break if you didn¡¯t follow orders?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± it answered, cold and clinical once more. ¡°My existence is bound to the directives installed during my creation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kind of messed up,¡± Vomi said, frowning as she thought about it. ¡°You¡¯re just a tool to them, huh?¡±

    ¡°A tool is efficient when used properly,¡± the symbiote responded, its voice flat but somehow bitter.

    Vomi sighed, sitting back against the edge of the building. She looked out over the sprawling chaos of Night City, thinking about what the symbiote had just said. Maybe it was just a machine, but it still had some sense of self¡ªsome awareness that it was more than just a weapon or tool. And now, for whatever reason, it was stuck with her.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re not just a tool anymore,¡± Vomi said quietly, finishing the last of her food. ¡°You¡¯re free now. No more corpo BS.¡±

    There was another pause, and this time, it felt heavier. The symbiote didn¡¯t respond, but she could sense its internal conflict. It wasn¡¯t just her dealing with an identity crisis¡ªit was them both.

    Suddenly, the symbiote broke the silence. ¡°Hostiles are approaching. We need to move.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s body tensed immediately, likely catching the threat herself, ¡°How close?¡±

    ¡°Too close,¡± it answered. ¡°Militech. They are tracking us.¡±

    ¡°Of course they are.¡± Vomi cursed under her breath, quickly scanning the streets below. Sure enough, she spotted a group of Militech operatives moving through the crowd, their tactical gear and weapons barely concealed. They were hunting her¡ªno doubt looking to recover whatever valuable asset they thought she was.

    ¡°Alright, time to bounce,¡± she muttered, standing up and dusting herself off.

    Without waiting for another word from the symbiote, Vomi leaped off the building and onto a nearby rooftop, moving with a fluidity she still hadn¡¯t gotten used to. She weaved between buildings, her enhanced senses kicking in as she avoided detection. The city blurred around her as she moved, her mind racing.

    ¡°Any idea why Militech¡¯s after us?¡± Vomi asked, her voice strained from the exertion of the leap.

    ¡°They want me,¡± the symbiote responded simply. ¡°They will stop at nothing to retrieve their investment. Or BioTechnica¡¯s investment, to be precise.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, they¡¯re not getting you back,¡± she growled. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be someone¡¯s lab rat.¡±

    The symbiote didn¡¯t argue with her this time. Instead, it guided her movements, its instincts helping her navigate the cityscape with precision. Vomi felt the rush of adrenaline again, her body becoming one with the symbiote as they moved in sync, dodging rooftops, ducking into alleyways, and staying one step ahead of their pursuers.

    But the further they went, the clearer it became¡ªMilitech wasn¡¯t giving up easily.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need a plan,¡± Vomi said between breaths, her eyes darting to the soldiers closing in on their position. ¡°I can¡¯t keep running forever.¡±

    ¡°We can fight,¡± the symbiote offered, its voice cold and calculating. ¡°We have the strength to eliminate them.¡±

    Vomi hesitated. The power was there, sure, but using it would mean escalating things. And once you start killing Militech soldiers, there¡¯s no going back. They¡¯d come after her harder, faster, with more force than she could handle.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± she said finally. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can shake them first.¡±

    With that, she vaulted over a ledge, dropping down into the chaos of the city streets below, disappearing into the crowd.

    <hr>

    After a few hours, sunrise came, the first shining lights giving not a big contrast to the constantly lit metropolis. It''s hard to think of Night City as a dark place in the literal sense when the city never truly sleeps. In regards to that, Vomi can say it''s true, because only after hours of intense hide and seek, the duo finally could breath at ease now that no one was after them. For now at least. She stopped at the Heywood district, one alleyway of distance from the main streets, her breath not really rough to the point of panting, but still enough to make her need to breath more carefully.

    ¡°Shit. How are they tracking us?¡±, Vomi said after dusting herself off and straightening her hair.

    It was a long hair, so of course it needed some time dedicated to it!

    ¡°Our chrome. My creator had cybernetics granted by both Militech and BioTechnica.¡±, He offered analytically, already tracing a plan to counter the problem.

    ¡°Oh yeah. Almost no one is organic in the year of 2077.¡±, Vomi sighed as she noticed her lab coat had glasses in it.

    Actually, her clothes were weird. It looked more like she just fled the hospital and stole a lab coat to cover it, but instead of it being a light blue, it was all black, except for said lab coat. She was even barefoot, which was again, weird.

    That didn''t stop her from putting the glasses though.

    ¡°It actually is 2076.¡±, The symbiote corrected her, ¡°February 7th, to be exact.¡±

    She stopped messing with the glasses, ¡°Really? Cool.¡±

    That means that she can do more before the main things in this city happen. A lot of shit will happen regardless of her interaction with it, but the fact she can influence it did get into consideration.

    ¡°We can get rid of the cybernetics.¡±, The black goo said after a few seconds of silence, ¡°That way we won''t be hunted anymore. Leaving useless biomass alongside the chrome should assist it further.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±, Vomi nodded, seemingly understanding the plan, ¡°What do we need to do?¡±

    ¡°Since the host''s body was already biologically modified before, it should be doable without too much further damage to its integrity.¡±

    ¡°Say what?¡±

    The symbiote gave a mental grin, amused for the first time in these close to 5 hours of union, ¡°The pain will be tolerable.¡±

    ¡°Uuuuuuhhhhhh¡­¡±, Vomi felt a pit forming in her stomach at the symbiote¡¯s words. ¡°Tolerable? That doesn¡¯t exactly sound reassuring, pal.¡±

    ¡°We do not have other viable options. Your current state of chrome makes you traceable, and they will not stop.¡±

    She sighed, looking down at her hands, which still felt foreign to her. Cybernetics had always been a part of Night City life, but now, knowing they were a tracking beacon, it made them feel like a shackle. She had to lose the chrome if she wanted any shot at freedom.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get it over with,¡± she muttered, bracing herself mentally.

    The symbiote didn¡¯t hesitate. Black tendrils began to surge through her body, focusing on areas where her cybernetics were implanted. She felt a sudden, sharp pull as the symbiote began detaching the chrome from her skin, wires popping loose, metal joints being pushed out from beneath her flesh. It wasn¡¯t excruciating, but it wasn¡¯t pleasant either.

    ¡°Holy shit¡ªwhat the hell kind of pain threshold do I have?¡± Vomi gasped, gripping the nearby wall for support as her legs trembled under the strain.

    ¡°The host¡¯s body was engineered to endure significant biological trauma. This is¡­ minimal,¡± the symbiote replied, its voice calm, almost clinical.

    ¡°Minimal, my ass,¡± Vomi grumbled, her knuckles turning white as she held on.

    Piece by piece, her cybernetics were being ejected from her body, the remnants of Militech¡¯s and BioTechnica¡¯s investments falling uselessly to the ground. It was a strange sensation, like shedding a layer of herself¡ªone she hadn¡¯t even realized she was carrying. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last bit of chrome clattered to the ground with a metallic thud.

    Vomi collapsed to her knees, panting. ¡°God¡­damn.¡±

    ¡°It is done,¡± the symbiote stated, sounding completely unfazed by what had just happened.

    Vomi took a few moments to catch her breath, looking at the pile of cybernetics that now sat at her feet. It was surreal to see parts of herself¡ªwell, her new self¡ªlying there, like discarded tech. But at least now, Militech would have a much harder time tracking her.

    ¡°Guess this means I¡¯m off the grid now, huh?¡± she said, wiping the sweat from her brow.

    ¡°For now,¡± the symbiote responded. ¡°However, we must remain cautious. Militech will adapt, as will others.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I figured,¡± Vomi muttered, standing up and stretching her limbs. She felt lighter without the chrome, almost more¡­ real. It was strange, but freeing in a way.

    As she glanced down the alley, she noticed the first light of dawn creeping over the skyline, casting a soft glow over the city. Night City, still buzzing with life even at this hour. Despite everything that had happened, despite the insanity of her situation, there was something undeniably captivating about the place.

    ¡°What now?¡± she asked, brushing off the dirt from her lab coat.

    ¡°Now, we will leave useless biomass. That way they can think we expired. If luck is on our side, that will be the end of the problem.¡±

    ¡°You? Relying on luck?¡±

    The symbiote didn''t really react at that, instead focusing on dropping black goo on the pile of the chrome.

    As the black goo oozed over the pile of discarded chrome, it began to take shape, forming something that looked vaguely human¡ªlike a twisted, melted version of the body she once had. Vomi watched in a mix of fascination and mild horror as the symbiote crafted the "corpse," a perfect decoy for anyone coming after them.

    ¡°Good enough to fool Militech?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°It will suffice,¡± the symbiote replied. ¡°Their scans will detect organic material and trace elements of your cybernetics. By the time they realize it¡¯s not you, if they ever do, we will be far away.¡±

    Vomi nodded, her mind already racing ahead. She had to figure out what to do next¡ªlay low, get some gear, and most importantly, find out how the hell she ended up in this situation. She couldn¡¯t keep running forever, and something told her this was only the beginning.

    Once the symbiote finished crafting the decoy, it began retracting back into her body, the black tendrils receding like shadows into her skin. She shuddered slightly as the connection solidified again, still getting used to the sensation of being bonded with an alien organism.

    ¡°We need to move,¡± the symbiote said, its tone calm and collected as always. ¡°There are others who will be alerted to the disturbance. The longer we linger, the higher the chance of engagement.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Vomi muttered, turning on her heel and stepping out of the alley. ¡°Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡±

    They slipped into the flow of the city, blending in with the early morning crowd. Despite her odd appearance, Night City was a place where almost anything went unnoticed if you kept your head down and acted like you belonged. She moved swiftly, eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger, but the streets were busy with commuters, shopkeepers opening their doors, and street vendors setting up for the day.

    ¡°Any idea where we should head next?¡± she asked.

    ¡°There are safehouses scattered throughout the city,¡± the symbiote replied. ¡°My creator had contingency plans. We can locate one and resupply.¡±

    ¡°Right. Safehouses. Of course,¡± Vomi muttered, running a hand through her hair. It was still weird thinking of herself as someone else¡¯s creation, even though she was now the one in control.

    As they weaved through the crowd, she couldn¡¯t help but notice how different everything felt. The sights, the sounds, the smells¡ªall more vivid, more intense than anything she¡¯d ever experienced. It was like the world had cranked up the volume, and she was only just starting to notice.

    For a brief moment, she allowed herself to get lost in it¡ªthe chaos, the danger, the beauty of Night City. Whatever had happened to her, whatever insane twist of fate had brought her here, she was alive. And she was going to make the most of it.

    Oh yeah, and the police brutality and disinterest.

    Vomi sat on the bench, eyes locked on the chaos unfolding in front of her like it was some kind of twisted show. The Tyger Claws and the NCPD exchanged gunfire without a second thought for the people around them. Civilians screamed and ran for cover, but the gang and the cops barely flinched. For them, this was just another day in Night City.

    "Unbelievable," she muttered, leaning back as a stray bullet pinged off a metal railing nearby. The symbiote¡¯s protective reflex kicked in for a split second, tensing her muscles, but no real danger came her way. ¡°And I thought my life was crazy before.¡±

    ¡°Chaos is the natural state of this place,¡± the symbiote commented, as if they were discussing the weather. ¡°Survival requires adapting to it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no kidding,¡± she replied, watching as a Tyger Claw member got shredded by gunfire, his cybernetics sparking before he collapsed on the pavement.

    Vomi glanced away from the shootout for a moment, scanning the park. People were already back to their business, as if the violence happening right across the street was just background noise. It was insane how quickly people adapted to the madness around here. Then again, maybe she was doing the same.

    The realization hit her: this was her world now. The danger, the brutality, the raw, unforgiving reality of it all¡ªit wasn¡¯t just something she was watching from a distance. She was in it, part of it. And if she didn¡¯t figure things out soon, she¡¯d be just another casualty in the long list of Night City¡¯s forgotten. It''s way more different than playing a game, when reality was there for you to witness. And again, she didn''t feel that way because of the thing itself, but more because she didn''t feel anything at all.

    Her lack of reaction gave her this odd feeling, like she needed to feel it, but didn''t.

    ¡°You said something about a safehouse,¡± Vomi said, standing up and brushing off her coat. She wasn¡¯t interested in sticking around to see who won the shootout. ¡°Where¡¯s the nearest one?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a location not far from here,¡± the symbiote responded. ¡°Formerly used by BioTechnica for covert operations. It should still be intact, though I cannot guarantee its security.¡±

    ¡°Good enough,¡± she replied. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    They moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows, avoiding any unnecessary attention. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off, replaced by a cold determination. She couldn¡¯t afford to lose focus now. Whatever she was going to do, she needed a plan¡ªand a place to regroup.

    After a few blocks, they arrived at a run-down building tucked away in a quiet corner of Heywood. It looked abandoned from the outside, but Vomi knew better than to judge by appearances in Night City. She approached the door cautiously, tapping the panel on the side. To her surprise, it lit up, scanning her body for a moment before the door hissed open.

    ¡°Still works,¡± she said while nodding to herself, stepping inside.

    ¡°This place doesn''t have a public record of who enters and who leaves. But I will make sure to check everything to keep us safe.¡±

    ¡°Please do. I have no idea how this tech works.¡±

    The interior was dark, but not completely derelict. Old equipment lined the walls, and dust covered most surfaces, but it was functional. She found a terminal in the back and booted it up. The symbiote interfaced with it immediately, scanning for any useful data.

    ¡°This will serve our purposes for now,¡± the symbiote said. ¡°We can use this location to monitor communications, track Militech activity, and formulate a plan.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Vomi said, settling into a chair. She was exhausted.

    She looked at her reflection in the darkened screen, still trying to reconcile the face staring back at her. It was her and yet... not her. Vomi. Android 21. Whoever she was now, she had to make peace with it.

    ¡°Alright.¡±, She said leaning back, ¡°Do you mind if I sleep?¡±

    ¡°Proceed.¡±

    With that confirmation, she closed her eyes. Everything fading into darkness.

    Zzzzzz¡­

 Chapter 3: Another place for Us.

    Vomi woke up just a few hours later, still on the same chair as before. Despite what she believed were only a few hours of sleep, that had to be the most refreshed she felt in her life¡­ well¡­ all of her lives. The symbiote was still interacting with the terminal from before, his tendrils and appendages dutifully working non-stop. After straightening herself up and getting a few satisfying pops of her spine, she looked at the data that was being tinkered.

    She frowned.

    ¡°I somehow understand what we are doing.¡±, She commented while she checked the screen, ¡°Even though I shouldn''t.¡±

    The symbiote was carefully coding and manipulating the records of a few employees of BioTechnica in the hopes of drawing attention to them instead of themselves, putting some incriminating evidence here, a open arrest warrant there, deleting some important files on another person or even adding stuff that was complete nonsense in a few. In another screen, there were the records of the current HQ and how many people used this place, the tendrils making sure that they can''t be tracked or retraced by reversing the search engine. Vomi understood every bit of coding, hacking, breaching and every stroke of the keyboard, be it flat on a high end screen, on the air, on a classic keyboard or even with the cursor that apparently was also altering data.

    ¡°The knowledge of the original Vomi might still be in our brain.¡±, The Klyntar said as he finished in two of the many screens he was tinkering with, ¡°That will come in handy for our survival.¡±

    ¡°Just so we are totally clear, I want more than just survival. I won''t run forever.¡±, The woman said as she also picked up a mobile device to check on a few pieces of information herself, ¡°California, huh? We will need to go somewhere else for now.¡±

    ¡°While I do approve our dislocation to another city, we must remember that our presence needs concealment.¡±, He rebuked, but never stopped working on the screens.

    Vomi sighed as she put the device on the nearby table, ¡°I get it, but living only for the sake of survival isn''t living. I want to do more than just that. After all, I am still human, mostly.¡±

    She added that last part after realizing that she wasn''t wrong, but wasn''t right either.

    ¡°My directives tell me to protect¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah I know!¡±, The scientist snapped, yelling at the stubborn companion, ¡°But I ain''t made out of glass, nor am I stupid to just throw my life away!¡±

    The appendages stopped working and merged with one another, creating a face very similar to Venom, just the eyes being way rounder instead of the usual sharpness he usually has, ¡°Why are you so willing to take risks?¡±

    ¡°Because I don''t want to live with fear.¡±, She said simply while putting hands on her hips, ¡°You were created in a lab, yes, I can give you that, but your creator isn''t here anymore. There isn''t anyone to order you around. Those parameters and directives should only work if you don''t have a free will or at the very least, consciousness. But you are so set in following some to-do list that you keep forgetting that you are alive.¡±

    The symbiote''s face twisted slightly, the round eyes narrowing just a bit as if processing her words. He didn''t respond right away, clearly not used to being challenged on his rigid worldview¡ªor whatever counted as a worldview for a lab-grown alien lifeform. Vomi crossed her arms, staring him down.

    "I am following my directives because they ensure your survival. Without them, we¡¯re just inviting death," the symbiote finally replied, his voice tense. "I don¡¯t see how that benefits either of us."

    Vomi shook her head, chuckling softly. ¡°Survival¡¯s not enough, partner. Not here, not anywhere. What¡¯s the point of surviving if you¡¯re just waiting for the next bad thing to happen? Might as well be dead already."

    The symbiote blinked, or at least it looked like a blink, his eyes retracting into the black mass. ¡°Your human emotions¡ªthis desire for... freedom¡ªis irrational."

    "Maybe, but that''s what makes us who we are. We take risks, we dream, we do stupid things for no reason sometimes. But that''s how you actually live." She sighed, sitting back down in her chair. "Look, I get it. You were built to follow orders, to complete objectives. But we¡¯re in the wild now. It¡¯s just us. There¡¯s no BioTechnica, no Militech, no big bad corporations pulling the strings. And even if they try, we gotta be smarter than them.¡±

    The symbiote paused, seeming to consider her words. His tendrils twitched slightly, as if wrestling with some internal conflict. ¡°You propose we disregard safety for¡­ freedom?¡±

    ¡°Not disregard. Balance. We¡¯re not gonna get anywhere just hiding in dark corners all the time. Besides," Vomi grinned, leaning forward, "I bet there¡¯s a part of you that likes this. The danger, the unpredictability. You weren¡¯t made just to sit on the sidelines, were you?¡±

    Another silence filled the room, and for a moment, Vomi thought she might¡¯ve pushed too hard. Then, slowly, the symbiote¡¯s tendrils began to withdraw, returning to its usual form as it merged back into her body.

    ¡°Perhaps... you are correct,¡± the symbiote finally admitted. ¡°There is... some merit in taking calculated risks.¡±

    Vomi smiled. ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡±

    She stood up, stretching, feeling more energized than ever. The tension between them seemed to ease, at least for now. They weren¡¯t totally in sync yet, but they were getting there.

    ¡°So, we¡¯re heading out then? Maybe somewhere less, uh, trigger-happy?¡± she asked, grabbing the mobile device again to pull up a map.

    ¡°Affirmative. But we must remain vigilant. There will still be forces seeking us out.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯ve got that part,¡± she said, dismissively waving her hand. ¡°But let¡¯s make this move count, alright? Maybe we¡¯ll even find a place where we can actually lay low for more than five minutes.¡±

    The symbiote hummed in agreement, his usual businesslike tone softened, as if he was slowly coming around to her way of thinking.

    As she stepped out of the safehouse, the sun now fully risen over the horizon, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of excitement. And with the symbiote by her side, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªthey¡¯d carve out something more than just survival.

    ¡°Alright, next stop¡ªwherever the hell we want,¡± she said with a grin.

    The symbiote didn¡¯t protest this time.

    <hr>

    Leaving Night City was surprisingly easy. She just needed a car, and since she didn''t have a shard key to actually own or steal a car, like stealing keys, she needed to hotwire the whole thing. Not ideal, for sure, but it''s way better than needing to rely on things that weren''t in control. A Galena, very low-end car, was spotted by them, so the only thing needed was to open the door, which was easy when they broke the window, open the compartment under the steering wheel and do some work on the wires and personal interface of the car. Even old as fuck cars like this needed some basic interface, apparently.

    The Galena quickly came to life as it''s engine roared humbly, as it''s horsepower was nowhere near enough to be loud. Past Vomi¡¯s knowledge for the win!

    Taking the car off the parking lot, she drove it down the street and onto the big highway that connected all the main districts. It wasn''t hard to see where the outskirts of the city were once there, and she wasn''t really obeying traffic laws, something that apparently no one did as far as the symbiotic duo could tell, she raced through the slowest traffic and got to the roadblock that separated Night City from the outside world. But, a Galena, going out the city? They didn''t even stop Vomi, letting her go, probably thinking that the car might fall apart just from the unkept roads or the rocky desert that was outside the city.

    Thankfully the fuel was above half capacity. That meant they could actually go to another place and refuel, or steal a car.

    ¡°I feel like a nomad.¡±, She commented offhandedly.

    The radio was thankfully playing Samurai. Chippin¡¯ In, to be precise.

    ¡°Nomads to tend to travel long distances in search of income, yes.¡±, The symbiote said, his tone even more softer than before.

    Vomi noted that, but decided to not comment on it.

    ¡°By the way¡­¡±, She said, changing the subject, ¡°What did you find on that headquarters? You said that Vomi had contingency plans.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±, He nodded, sharing some information through¡­ their connected minds?, ¡°Plans consisted in biological removal of our integrity in case the experiment went wrong, if the experiment was successful but put a target on her back, such as the situation we are in, and some information about what exactly she had done for her body before integration.¡±

    Vomi hummed as she nodded more to the song than the information, ¡°I have the knowledge in my brain, but I doubt I''d understand what she did to herself¡­ Well, now myself.¡±

    ¡°To summarize, she used DNA of various animals, said genetic material that was already forcefully altered to perform better. Strength, Speed, Wits, Reaction, the sort of experiment that enhances every aspect of the human body.¡±, He continued his explanation regardless, seemingly positive about it, ¡°Of course, these tests usually brought bad whiplash to her biology. Every good result had a bad unpredictable effect as well.¡±

    She whistled at that, impressed and concerned at the same time, ¡°How did she even survive before¡­ well, before the Klyntar Project?¡±

    ¡°She mostly almost didn''t.¡±, He said with minor sorrow, almost emotional, ¡°My creator lived under constant medical attention, both herself taking care of the mutations in her body and BioTechnica as whole, trying to replicate her inventions without the drawbacks.¡±

    ¡°And they succeeded?¡±

    ¡°In general, they did a decent job. Some cybernetics and augmentations did came from Vomi''s work. But they never could replicate a fraction of her work.¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡±, She said one hand off the wheel, inspecting her arm, ¡°Does that mean I have some of those drawbacks?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±, The symbiote shook his head, ¡°Our integration was done by injection of Nanobots, mixed with my own biologic matter. That was supposed to be a counter measure to the drawbacks, postponing the inevitable. However, I cannot detect any illness from within us.¡±

    ¡°...So are we cured?¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡±, She said as she put her hand on the wheel again, ¡°That means I don''t need to be heavily dependant on your powers. Good thing to know since we will keep a low profile.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡±, He commented before coming out of Vomi''s body and checking the radio himself, ¡°This song is¡­ intriguing.¡±

    ¡°Hear our call, I am Chippin'' In!¡±, Vomi yelled the main part of the song, the symbiote just vibing along.

    He merged back together, letting the woman enjoy the song until it finished.

    ¡°Indeed. Human recreation is quite interesting.¡±.

    Was he jamming to the song too?

    Vomi mostly drove northwest after a while, going to the direction of different cities in Colorado. But she already had a destination in mind thanks to a little bit of searching: San Francisco. Sure, Los Angeles was way closer, but it didn''t have that much safety. Sure, we are comparing it to Night City, but LA wasn''t as safe either. And she always wanted to visit the Silicon Valley, so there is that too.

    As the song finished, the radio was now only transmitting static, the wind and sand being rather intrusive thanks to the broken window of the Galena. It was quiet, except for the tires and the engine.

    ¡°Samurai is a really good band. It''s a shame music in 2076 is not as good. I guess they even call this retro?¡±, Vomi pondered as she looked at the road, no cars of traffic to be seen.

    The symbiote¡¯s voice came through her thoughts, more curious than usual. ¡°Retro? It seems humans often romanticize the past, even if it was just as flawed as the present.¡±

    Vomi chuckled, adjusting her grip on the wheel. ¡°Yeah, guess we all do that. Makes it easier to cope with how messed up things are now. Music, at least, makes it all feel a bit better.¡±

    The road stretched endlessly before them, the barren wasteland outside of Night City feeling almost alien compared to the chaotic, neon-filled streets they had just left behind. No more gunfights in the middle of the street, no more suffocating corporate towers. Just a whole lot of nothing. But, for the first time in a long while, Vomi didn¡¯t mind the emptiness.

    ¡°So,¡± she started, glancing at the radio for a moment, ¡°San Francisco, huh? Think it¡¯ll be any better than Night City?¡±

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± the symbiote replied, ¡°but perhaps it will offer us fewer immediate threats. The focus in Silicon Valley is different from Night City¡¯s corporate warfare. We may find opportunities there.¡±

    ¡°Opportunities, huh?¡± Vomi grinned, stepping harder on the gas pedal. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope it doesn¡¯t get too boring.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    They drove in silence for a while longer, the endless desert giving way to more rugged landscapes. The sky above was beginning to darken again, the brief stretch of daylight in the wastelands quickly fading into another cold night. But Vomi felt a strange sense of peace, a quiet that settled in her bones. It wasn¡¯t exactly freedom¡ªnot yet¡ªbut it was a step in the right direction.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she said suddenly, her eyes still focused on the road ahead, ¡°thanks. For, y¡¯know, sticking with me. I know you didn¡¯t really have a choice at first, but¡­ it means something. That we¡¯re in this together.¡±

    The symbiote didn¡¯t respond right away, but when it did, its voice was softer, almost reflective. ¡°You and I are one now. Your survival is my survival. But beyond that¡­ perhaps I, too, seek something more than just existence.¡±

    Vomi smiled to herself, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. ¡°Well, whatever we¡¯re looking for, we¡¯ll figure it out together.¡±

    The rest of the journey passed quietly, the old car rumbling along the desolate road, taking them toward whatever awaited in San Francisco.

    <hr>

    A few hours have passed, the Galena being very tired from cruising on the road. But that wasn''t the main problem.

    ¡°I think we are being followed.¡±, Vomi commented.

    She checked the fuel and it was getting low. And quite frankly she hadn''t seen a CHOOH2 station in a long time by now.

    ¡°My information data is limited. I am unaware of those vehicles and what they pose.¡±, The symbiote said as he peeped through the broken window and saw a lot of nomad cars before merging again.

    ¡°As expected Vomi, your corpo side never falters.¡±, She shook her head, half amused half annoyed, ¡°From the decals of their cars I''d say they are Aldecados. Generally friendly, but let''s not let our guards down.¡±

    ¡°How can you affirm that?¡±, He asked, curious and at the same time suspicious, not at her, but at the cars behind.

    As someone who liked to search Cyberpunk Lore, she frowned a bit.

    ¡°They worked in LA a long time ago. Using their knowledge of Civil Engineering and all that. A lot of buildings needed construction, mainly Arasaka. Although I think LA is not that liveable right now, even to its denizens.¡±, She said while gearing down the engine, pulling over the road, ¡°Pollution is the main problem, and the corpos aren''t concerned at all, even when the population needs to use Synth Lungs.¡±

    The Galena slowed to a crawl, coming to a stop at the side of the road. Vomi kept her eyes on the rearview mirror, watching as the convoy of nomad vehicles grew closer. Dust clouds kicked up in the distance as they approached. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently, but she remained outwardly calm.

    The symbiote, sensing her tension, chimed in. ¡°If they become hostile, we can defend ourselves. We are equipped.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions,¡± Vomi muttered. ¡°We¡¯re in their territory. No need to pick a fight unless it¡¯s absolutely necessary.¡±

    The Aldecaldos'' vehicles slowed as they neared her car, surrounding it in a loose formation. One of the trucks, a rugged off-roader with a makeshift turret strapped to the back, came to a halt directly in front of her. The driver, a heavily chromed man with tribal tattoos running up his neck, stepped out, his crew following close behind.

    Vomi rolled down the rest of her broken window and leaned out, giving them a casual nod. ¡°Hey, no need for all the heat. Just passing through.¡±

    The leader eyed her up and down, his gaze lingering on her strange outfit and the noticeable gooey symbiote tendrils flickering at the edges of her wrists before they disappeared back into her skin. He raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t comment. Instead, he leaned against his truck, arms crossed.

    ¡°You lost, Bennie?¡± His voice was gruff, but not immediately hostile.

    ¡°Not lost,¡± Vomi replied coolly. ¡°Just on my way to San Fran. Saw your convoy behind me, figured I¡¯d let you pass. Didn¡¯t mean to cause any trouble.¡±

    The leader smirked, nodding at his crew. ¡°We saw you. Old car, barely holding together. Thought we¡¯d check in, make sure you¡¯re not stranded, choom.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Vomi said, glancing at the fuel gauge. ¡°But¡­ yeah, low on CHOOH2. If you know where I can find some, that¡¯d help.¡±

    The man glanced at her car again, then shrugged. ¡°Might be a station up the road. But it¡¯s Aldecaldo territory, so you¡¯ll need to go through us to get there.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what¡¯s that gonna cost me?¡±

    The man grinned, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ¡°Depends. You don¡¯t look like a corpo, but you¡¯re definitely not a nomad either. You offering something?¡±

    She thought for a moment. ¡°Got some skills. I can hack, fix things, breach systems. If you¡¯ve got any tech that needs tweaking, maybe we can work something out.¡±

    The leader exchanged glances with his crew, ¡°A Netrunner? You city folks are full of surprises.¡±

    Another man got close, nodding at Vomi but quickly turning his attention to the leader, ¡°Henry, we kinda do need someone that can run the Net. Can''t deal good with a bunch of gonks trying to fuck us over without a good merc. Although I don''t think you are a merc, no offense.¡±

    ¡°None taken.¡±, Vomi shrugged.

    Henry scratched his chin, eyeing Vomi with newfound interest. "Alright then. We got some shit that needs fixing. Been getting some static from a local scav gang that¡¯s been messing with our communications. You help us clear that up, we¡¯ll top off your tank and maybe throw in some extra supplies.¡±

    Vomi glanced back at her car, then at the crew. It wasn¡¯t like she had much of a choice if she wanted to keep moving. Plus, she could use some allies outside of Night City¡ªespecially if she wanted to lay low for a while.

    ¡°Deal,¡± she said. ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    ¡°Preem.¡±

    Henry nodded, gesturing for her to follow. The nomads piled back into their vehicles, and Vomi climbed into the Galena, falling in behind their convoy as they headed toward a nearby camp. As they drove, the symbiote¡¯s voice rang in her head.

    ¡°Engaging with these nomads could complicate matters. They may expect more from us later.¡±

    ¡°We need the fuel,¡± Vomi replied, keeping her eyes on the road. ¡°And we might need them later. Friends are better than enemies, right?¡±

    The symbiote hummed in agreement, though it was clear he remained skeptical.

    When they arrived at the camp, it was a sprawling, makeshift setup in the middle of the desert. Solar panels, tents, and vehicles formed the backbone of the nomad community. They parked near a large RV, and Henry motioned for Vomi to follow him inside.

    Inside, she was greeted by a mess of wires, cables, and outdated tech. A couple of nomads were hunched over terminals, swearing at the screens. One of them looked up as Henry walked in, raising an eyebrow at Vomi.

    ¡°This her? The city gonk who¡¯s gonna fix our problem?¡± the man asked.

    ¡°She says she¡¯s got the skills. Give her a shot,¡± Henry said, folding his arms.

    Vomi stepped forward, examining the setup. It didn¡¯t take long for her to figure out what the problem was¡ªa bunch of outdated software and some faulty connections. Typical for nomad tech, really. But nothing she couldn¡¯t handle.

    That''s of course before she started working in the stuff. It wasn''t because it was difficult, but more because she wasn''t familiar with it. Sure she had the knowledge, but practice was different. And she even checked that it could be that they needed to replace some tech to actually work as good as it needed to. Jamming comms wasn''t as easy, even for Nomad software. She cracked her knuckles and got to work, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she dove into the code. The symbiote¡¯s presence was like a second mind helping her work, allowing her to multitask and process data faster than any regular person could.

    A few minutes have passed with no visual progress, at least for Henry and the Aldecados he was leading.

    ¡°How''s it going?¡±, He asked, checking in alongside the other programmer that was trying to help Vomi.

    ¡°Not perfect,¡± Vomi muttered, not taking her eyes off the screens. ¡°You guys are running on tech so old, I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s even holding together. Half of these lines of code are patch jobs.¡±

    She tapped a few keys, diving deeper into the tangled mess of software. The terminals in front of her flickered, displaying layers upon layers of outdated security protocols. These were simple, low-level programs designed to keep out amateur hackers but were no match for the more sophisticated methods of scav gangs who had been jamming their comms.

    ¡°Care to share what you are doing? I am half lost here.¡±, Their programmer asked as he caught a glimpse of the screen.

    ¡°Your comms system¡¯s using an ancient encryption method. No wonder the scavs were able to mess with it,¡± she explained. ¡°And some of the hardware connections are loose. I¡¯m surprised you even have a signal at all.¡±

    ¡°Can''t really improve tech that much while in the desert. High end parts are hard to come by ground, and if they do, they are heavily guarded.¡±, Henry offered as he lit a cigar.

    ¡°This tech is ancient.¡±, Vomi deadpanned, ¡°Give me some tools, I''ll work on the antenna.¡±

    Both of them shrugged.

    The symbiote subtly enhanced her focus, allowing her to process multiple tasks simultaneously. On one screen, she was running diagnostics on the communication network, tracking down points of interference. On another, she was sorting through lines of messy code, identifying weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

    The first issue she tackled was stabilizing the physical connections. With a set of tools that Henry handed over, she began rewiring some of the outdated tech. Loose cables were reseated, and damaged connectors were replaced. Once the hardware was stable, she turned her full attention to the software.

    ¡°Alright, the cables are secure now. Let¡¯s deal with this garbage code,¡± she said, cracking her knuckles again.

    She accessed the network¡¯s root code and started cleaning up the patches that had been haphazardly thrown in over the years. The scavs had exploited backdoors in the system¡ªold, unsecured protocols that had never been properly updated. Vomi systematically closed off those backdoors, adding new encryption layers and securing the network¡¯s firewall.

    ¡°What you need is a complete system overhaul,¡± she told Henry as she worked. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna give you a patch for now. This should lock the scavs out for a while, but don¡¯t expect it to hold up forever.¡±

    ¡°Nova.¡±, Henry nodded, ¡°But eddies aren''t exactly our main strength right now. Gotta have some gigs to pay an actual Netrunner to fix this shit.¡±

    She typed faster, creating a custom program that would constantly shift the encryption keys, making it nearly impossible for anyone to break back in without spending hours decoding. It wasn¡¯t a perfect solution, but it would at least buy the Aldecaldos time.

    ¡°I¡¯ve set up a dynamic encryption loop. Every time someone tries to hack in, the system will change its encryption. They¡¯ll have to start from scratch every time,¡± she explained, ¡°Unless they are good, that is.¡±

    ¡°That will do.¡±, The programmer said as he checked over the code, ¡°As far as I can tell, this is better than I can do. I will probably do just some debugging after a while before it''s completely changed.¡±

    The last part of her work involved beefing up the radio frequency they were using for their long-range comms. The scavs had been piggybacking on the weak signal, listening in and jamming whenever they felt like it. Vomi rerouted the signal to a stronger frequency and scrambled it, ensuring that any eavesdroppers would hear nothing but static.

    ¡°Try it now,¡± she said, stepping back from the terminal.

    One of the Aldecaldos hesitated but pressed a button on the comms unit. The screen flickered, then stabilized. Clear static-free audio came through, and the look on the nomad¡¯s face was one of pure relief.

    ¡°No more scavs on our line,¡± he said, grinning.

    ¡°Fuck, she actually did it.¡±

    Vomi leaned back against the table, arms crossed. ¡°That should hold you for now. But seriously, upgrade your tech, or this will happen again.¡±

    Henry let out a low chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. ¡°Easier said than done, city girl. But we¡¯ll figure something out. You¡¯ve bought us time, and that¡¯s more than anyone else¡¯s done lately.¡±

    Vomi shrugged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not a miracle worker. If those scavs are persistent, they¡¯ll find another way. Just be ready.¡±

    The programmer who had been watching her work nodded in agreement. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on the system. Thanks for the patch, it¡¯s a hell of a lot better than what we were working with.¡±

    With the job done, Vomi wiped her hands on a rag and glanced out the RV¡¯s window. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desert. She could feel the day¡¯s fatigue creeping up on her, but there was still a long road ahead.

    Henry followed her gaze and seemed to read her mind. ¡°It¡¯s getting late. You can stay here for the night if you want. Safe enough, at least.¡±

    She considered it for a moment. A night of rest sounded tempting, but the thought of staying still for too long put her on edge. ¡°Thanks for the offer, but I need to delta. Got a long way to go.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Henry shrugged but didn¡¯t press the issue. ¡°If you ever need something, you know where to find us.¡±

    ¡°Appreciate it,¡± Vomi said with a nod. She turned and headed back toward the Galena, her feet kicking up dust as she walked. The nomads had already refueled the car and loaded the extra canisters, so she was good to go, ¡°I need to get some shoes.

    Sliding into the driver¡¯s seat, she started the engine, and the symbiote¡¯s voice hummed softly in her mind. ¡°They were cooperative. A rare occurrence in this environment.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s not every day you find people who aren¡¯t trying to shoot you or rip you off,¡± Vomi replied, pulling away from the camp. ¡°Nomads aren¡¯t so bad. They just want to survive, like everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Survival remains our priority as well.¡±

    She glanced at the horizon as the last traces of sunlight disappeared, the endless road stretching ahead. ¡°Yeah, but like I said before, I want more than just survival.¡±

    With the desert behind her, she focused on the drive ahead, the low rumble of the engine and the whistling wind through the broken window filling the silence. The road to San Francisco still lay ahead, and while she didn¡¯t know what she¡¯d find there, at least now she had a little more fuel in the tank and a lot more confidence in her ability to keep going.

    <hr>

    ¡°Jesus Christ, how do these people live here?!¡±

    Vomi was baffled at the way the air smelled. It took a few more hours and a night of sleep inside the car, but she arrived at her fist stop before San Francisco.

    But by the love of god, Los Angeles is awful.

    She was grateful that their combined biology made so the chemicals in the air didn''t affect her, because otherwise it would be unbearable.

    ¡°Remind what we are doing here again?¡±, The complete lack (or even the opposite) of enthusiasm was telling.

    Vomi ended up putting a hand in her nose. Her nostrils didn''t like the toxic air as much as the next guy, but it''s either here or the next city. And given the state of the N.U.S.A., it''s better to stop here than drive days worth of nothing or warzones.

    ¡°We need some supplies. First, clothes.¡±, She said while driving the main populational areas of LA, once the bright and filled streets now just a shadow of their former selves, ¡°I can go by unnoticed with a gray skin and red eyes, a lot of people chrome stuff way weirder. But I can''t go on about a black-dyed suit of the hospital all day for the rest of my life. Besides I need shoes. I still feel the sand on my toes.¡±

    ¡°And we needed to stop here to acquire such items?¡±

    ¡°I didn''t think about it when we met the Aldecados, alright?¡±, She sighed, obviously frustrated at herself for not thinking it sooner, ¡°But that''s not only that. Night City police might not care about a stolen Galena, even more the normal civilian type, but other cities might not be as lenient. We need an actual car we can use without worrying about cops on our tail.¡±

    ¡°Safety.¡±, The symbiote hummed, ¡°What else we require?¡±

    ¡°We need to chipp in some actual chrome.¡±

    She parked the Galena outside of a bar, turning the engine off. There was still some CHOOH2 canisters in the trunk, but since she won''t use the car anymore, there is no point in holding them.

    ¡°We left a decoy with the previous cybernetics. Why get new ones?¡±, He asked confusedly, more curious than annoyed, since it was counter productive to get something you just got rid off of.

    Vomi looked at the bar, then sighed, ¡°Because we need EuroDollars. If we don''t have an Agent, Optics and a Personal Chord, the basic of the basics of Chrome, we won''t be able to be ID¡¯ed or even get payments. I want eddies. Eddies are nice.¡±

    ¡°We were meant to lay low. Identity is secondary.¡±

    ¡°That would be the case if not for every corner having an ID scanner. The more time we spent impossible to identify, the worse it is for us in the long run.¡±

    After that, the black goo didn''t have an argument to go against it. It was starting to become a reoccurrence in their time meeting each other.

    ¡°Fine. I will refrain from protesting.¡±

    ¡°No you won''t.¡±, She said half amused half relieved, ¡°But let''s keep going at a slow pace.¡±

    Then they entered the bar, one that they could find a job.

    Or rather, a gig.

 Chapter 4: Chippin In!

    The bartender, his face half silver and his throat complete chrome, saw a woman with the weirdest outfit he saw in days. And that''s an achievement given the current situation in LA, but he has learned that judging people by attire was never a good thing, even more so when his bar was home to the local fixer of this district. A lot of people would come and go, ask for gigs, maybe die, in the rare occurrence, actually come unscathed¡­ that sorta stuff.

    Even though she was barefoot. Hmmm.

    The black haired woman sat at the counter. She used glasses? Well, not the weirdest thing. Some people just didn''t use Optics for some weird reason, but he wasn''t one to judge, he refused to chrome for a long time too, so better to not mind something like that. She just listened to the radio, humming softly to the song before eventually asking for the bartender to make his way up to her.

    ¡°What can I do for you?¡±, He asked as he used a rag to clean the counter while side glancing at the potential customer.

    ¡°Depends. If you can get rid of this filth that fills the oxygen I try to breathe, it would be preem.¡±, She said while sighing, which got a snort out of the bartender.

    ¡°Ain''t that what everyone wants. But I doubt Arasaka will ever bother with that.¡±, He commented as he saw the TV commenting on a new record for pollution in the city.

    ¡°¡®Saka don''t bother with anything that doesn''t bring them more money.¡±, The woman commented with a huff.

    Something he could get behind, after all it wasn''t by mistake that the corporate wars were initiated by Arasaka, despite them trying to rectify their previous reputation, it was still something people won''t forget easily. At least outside of Night City, that is.

    ¡°And power.¡±, The bartender added as he finished up cleaning, ¡°But you didn''t tell me what you need.¡±

    ¡°I am looking for a gig. Thought you might know something about it?¡±

    Ah, she was one of those.

    The bartender¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied her, trying to figure out where she fit in the mess that was Los Angeles. She didn¡¯t look like a corpo, at least not the polished, power-hungry types that used to run the place. Nor did she have the ragged look of a street scav. But there was something off about her¡ªbarefoot, wearing hospital scrubs like she had just walked out of a bad ripper chrome gone wrong. Still, he knew better than to underestimate anyone who asked for work in a place like this.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking for a gig, huh?¡± He wiped his hands on the rag and leaned on the counter, lowering his voice. ¡°You should know, this ain¡¯t the city you came from. Jobs around here don¡¯t exactly come with benefits. You sure you¡¯re up for it?¡±

    Vomi gave him a half-smile, leaning forward. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be asking if I wasn¡¯t. Got skills. I can hack, fix things, get into places I¡¯m not supposed to. I¡¯m not picky about the work either, just need the eddies.¡±

    The bartender nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with her answer. He reached under the counter, pulling out a small, outdated tablet. After tapping a few times, he slid it over to her. ¡°There¡¯s a fixer in this district. Goes by the name Layla. Runs a few gigs here and there, mostly for people like you¡ªnew faces looking to make a quick buck.¡±

    ¡°Anything I should know about her?¡± Vomi asked, glancing at the tablet¡¯s screen.

    The bartender shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s tough but fair. If you screw up, you¡¯re out. But if you do the job right, she pays well. You can find her down near the old trainyard, runs a small shop out of an abandoned warehouse.¡±

    Vomi took a mental note and slid the tablet back to him. ¡°Thanks for the tip. I¡¯ll check it out.¡±

    Before she could stand up, the bartender raised a hand. ¡°One more thing. Layla¡¯s got connections. If you¡¯re looking to get your hands on chrome, iron, docs or intel, she¡¯s the one who can help you out. But it¡¯s gonna cost you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll worry about that once I¡¯ve got some eddies,¡± Vomi replied with a smirk.

    She stood, adjusting the hem of her hospital scrubs before walking toward the exit. The symbiote¡¯s voice echoed in her mind as she stepped back into the grimy streets of LA. ¡°This Layla seems resourceful. She may be a key contact.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope so,¡± Vomi muttered under her breath, scanning her surroundings as she walked toward the Galena. Sure, she said she''d let the car on the sidewalk, but there is no other way to travel that doesn''t involve jumping entire buildings. The air still stank, and the city¡¯s decay was even more palpable at street level, but she wasn¡¯t here for sightseeing.

    As she drove toward the trainyard, her mind buzzed with a mixture of anticipation and weariness. The symbiote stayed quiet, likely calculating their next moves or simply observing. Either way, she felt its presence, a constant companion in her skull. The drive didn¡¯t take long, but as she approached the warehouse district, the atmosphere changed. The streets were more desolate here, fewer people, more shadows.

    She parked the Galena a safe distance from the building, making sure to lock it up securely. Layla¡¯s shop wasn¡¯t exactly well-marked, but the faint hum of activity inside the warehouse gave it away. She approached the building cautiously, eyeing the security cameras perched on the roof like mechanical vultures.

    ¡°Careful,¡± the symbiote warned, sensing the unease in the air. ¡°This fixer may not trust strangers easily.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Vomi muttered, stepping up to the door and giving it a quick knock.

    A slot opened, revealing a pair of scrutinizing eyes. ¡°What do you want?¡± came a gruff voice from behind the door.

    ¡°Looking for work. I was told Layla¡¯s the one to see about that,¡± Vomi replied, keeping her tone calm but confident.

    The eyes narrowed for a moment, scanning her from head to toe, then the slot slammed shut. There was a beat of silence before the heavy door creaked open. A stocky man stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°You the one the Jax sent?¡± he asked, motioning for her to enter.

    Vomi nodded and stepped inside. Apparently the name of the bartender is Jax.

    The interior of the warehouse was a stark contrast to the outside¡ªorganized, functional, and bristling with tech. Several workstations were set up, with a few people hunched over monitors or tinkering with mechanical parts.

    The man led her toward the back, where a makeshift office had been set up. Behind a cluttered desk sat a woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in a sleek, chrome-plated jacket. Her eyes, enhanced with bright red optics, darted up from the screen in front of her.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re looking for work,¡± Layla said, her voice sharp but curious.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Vomi replied, stepping forward. ¡°I¡¯ve got skills.¡±

    Layla studied her for a moment, then leaned back in her chair, tapping a chrome-plated finger against her lips. ¡°You don¡¯t look like you¡¯re from around here. But I don¡¯t care about that. I care about results. There¡¯s a gig I need handled¡ªclean and quick. You in?¡±

    Vomi nodded without hesitation. ¡°What¡¯s the job?¡±

    Layla eyed her one more time before trying to give the information via Agent, only for the file not to be sent.

    ¡°You are ganic?¡±, She asked in bewilderment before quickly going back to professional persona, ¡°That''s¡­ Fine. Actually that''s a pleasant surprise.¡±

    Oh, yeah. No chrome had these setbacks.

    ¡°Sorry, not sorry. Need payment in cash as well.¡±, She offered a not so apologetic smile, ¡°I actually need to get chipped. This is becoming a hassle by now.¡±

    ¡°I am impressed you weren''t caught by the law already.¡±, She said with a sigh, before grabbing a tablet and transferring the files of the gig to the object, ¡°Here.¡±

    The guard who was silently observing gave a small chuckle.

    ¡°Secure a package.¡±, Vomi commented as she checked the deets, "Who are these Venti Street''s? Local gang?¡±

    Layla leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tapping the chrome surface of her desk. ¡°Yeah, Venti Street¡¯s a local gang. Bunch of low-life rippers, but they¡¯ve been expanding their territory. Got bold recently and snatched a package I need back. Small thing, but valuable. Their hideout¡¯s in an abandoned auto shop a few blocks from here.¡±

    ¡°Rippers?¡±, Vomi scanned through the job details on the tablet, taking mental notes. "Any idea how many we''re dealing with?¡±

    ¡°A dozen, give or take,¡± Layla said, shrugging. ¡°Nothing you shouldn¡¯t be able to handle. Most of them are hopped up on low-grade chrome. Might have a couple of decent hitters, but they¡¯re not pros.¡±

    "Alright, secure the package, take care of the gonks if necessary. Got it." Vomi glanced up from the tablet, her red eyes gleaming faintly. "Anything else I should know? Traps, alarms?"

    Layla shook her head. ¡°Nothing that should give you too much trouble. Just get in, grab the package, and get out. No need to go loud unless they give you a reason.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Vomi said, slipping the tablet into her pocket. ¡°I¡¯ll get it done.¡±

    As she turned to leave, Layla added, ¡°I assume youa the getting eddies for chrome? It''s not unusual for people to keep full ganic, but even the basics be missing is something some people might be suspicious about.¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡±, Vomi shot back as she turned her heel to look at Layla, ¡°You think that I am suspicious?¡±

    ¡°Everyone is.¡±, She said sagely, ¡°It''s a thing that you learn in this line of work.¡±

    ¡°I see. But, yeah, I do agree that I need some chrome. Chip in the basics.¡±

    Layla seemed to consider something, ¡°Tell you what. If your skills actually exist, I can call one of my trusted ripperdocs. We will discuss price later.¡±

    Vomi smirked over her shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s what I like to hear.¡±

    ¡°Go on now. Do your job.¡±

    With that, she stepped back out into the dingy streets, the symbiote¡¯s voice already chiming in her head. ¡°This seems straightforward. But there may be hidden dangers.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no kidding,¡± Vomi muttered, scanning the street for any suspicious eyes. ¡°These things are never as simple as they look. Let¡¯s just hope these rippers aren¡¯t packing anything too heavy.¡±

    ¡°We will adapt as necessary. Efficiency is key.¡±

    ¡°Right, always.¡± She shook her head slightly. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope I get some decent eddies out of this.¡±

    She climbed back into the Galena, fired up the engine, and set off toward the Venti Street hideout. As she drove, she mentally prepped herself for what lay ahead. Another gang, another fight¡ªsame old story. But this time, there was more at stake. She needed the money, needed the chrome.

    <hr>

    Venti Street''s Den

    There was a local discussion with the gang members. They were playing blackjack casually, not any eddies or any bet, but still casual banter between them.

    ¡°Hit me.¡±, One of them said, his grin visible as he held a total of 15 in his hands.

    "You''re gonna bust," another gang member chuckled, lazily dealing the next card. He was leaned back, chrome arms crossed, clearly enjoying watching his buddy push his luck.

    The guy with the cards hesitated, eyeing his hand like he could will it into something better. ¡°Nah, I got this. Just need a six.¡±

    "Yeah, sure. Like the universe is ever that nice to any of us," the dealer snorted, flipping the card. It was a 10.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± The guy groaned, slamming his cards down. ¡°Always happens. No luck in cards, no luck in life.¡±

    ¡°You think you got no luck?¡± chimed in another gang member, leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. His jacket was old, fraying at the seams, but the chromed-out mods in his arms made him look tougher than the rundown fabric. ¡°Last gig I was on, the mark had a mantis blade. Nearly took my head off. You think I¡¯m worried about cards?¡±

    ¡°Man, I¡¯d zero someone for a mantis blade,¡± the dealer mused, dealing the next hand casually. ¡°The shit we got is barely holding together. My wrist servo¡¯s been jamming for days.¡±

    ¡°Quit whining,¡± the cigarette guy shot back, blowing out a puff of smoke. ¡°You think Arasaka¡¯s handing out free chrome? We''re scraping by, just like always.¡±

    ¡°Arasaka?¡± The guy who busted laughed. ¡°I can¡¯t even afford to get my optics upgraded, let alone anything fancy. You know the latest OS upgrade costs, like, half a year''s worth of eddies? It¡¯s a scam.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s a scam, choom,¡± the cigarette guy said, flicking ash onto the dirty floor. ¡°That¡¯s the life. You wanna cry about it or keep playing?¡±

    One of the other gang members, quieter but with a cybernetic eye glowing blue, finally spoke up. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, the real trick isn¡¯t in having fancy chrome. It¡¯s in knowing how to use what you got. I¡¯ve seen gonks with top-of-the-line chrome get wrecked by some street rat with a knife.¡±

    The group nodded in agreement, the truth of it settling in.

    ¡°Yeah, but I wouldn¡¯t say no to an upgrade,¡± the busted guy muttered, shuffling the cards for the next round.

    The cigarette guy blew out another puff of smoke, his red eyes glinting in the low light. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t we all?¡±

    ¡°All we gotta do is klep some chrome from a few sorry corpses. Maybe we can get a Sandy?¡±

    One of them scoffed, thinking it was hilarious, ¡°You really think a guy with a Sandy is that easy to flatline?¡±

    ¡°I can dream!¡±, He shot back, slightly offended, ¡°I pass.¡±

    The dealer nodded, looking over at the next player, ¡°Keren is more viable, but I still think we need some iron instead of chrome. Biz will go way smoother with new guns.¡±

    ¡°Hit me.¡±, The last player said as he was given a 7 of spades, ¡°Yeah, I think I''m settled on chrome. I can barely afford maintenance. Netrunners are also a pain to deal. Leave me with ennies.¡±

    ¡°Alright, reveal your cards.¡±

    The gang members flipped their cards, each one laying them down with a mix of groans and triumphant grins. The dealer smirked as he revealed his hand¡ªa solid 19. ¡°Looks like I¡¯m walking away with this one.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in,¡± the busted guy muttered, slouching back in his seat. ¡°One of these days, I¡¯m gonna score big and leave this place behind. Maybe head out to Night City, get some real gigs.¡±

    The guy with the cigarette raised an eyebrow. ¡°Night City? You think it¡¯s any better there? It¡¯s the same shit, just with more neon lights. You¡¯d get fried in a week.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. But there¡¯s opportunity there. A lot more than this backwater slum. You get the right crew, the right gig... could be swimming in eddies.¡±

    The quiet guy with the cybernetic eye spoke up again, his voice calm. ¡°Yeah, but for every person making it big, there¡¯s a hundred that get flatlined. I¡¯ll stick to the small gigs for now. Better to stay under the radar.¡±

    ¡°Under the radar doesn¡¯t pay,¡± the busted guy grumbled, shuffling the cards again. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, we hit the right score, we could all be living it up.¡±

    ¡°And how¡¯s that worked out for you so far?¡± the cigarette guy quipped, his lips curling into a smirk. ¡°Keep dreaming, choom.¡±

    Before anyone could respond, a low beep echoed through the room. The blue-eyed guy checked his comm, frowning slightly. ¡°Yo, we got movement outside.¡±

    The group immediately tensed, their easygoing banter vanishing in an instant. The dealer tossed the cards aside and stood up, grabbing a nearby pistol. ¡°Who the hell would be stupid enough to roll up on us?¡±

    The cigarette guy stubbed out his smoke and cracked his knuckles, his red eyes glowing faintly. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Let¡¯s go see who¡¯s trying to gonk themselves today.¡±

    They all grabbed their weapons and made their way to the front of the hideout, ready for whatever¡ªor whoever¡ªwas out there.

    Outside, Vomi leaned against the Galena, scanning the entrance of the auto shop. She could feel the symbiote''s presence humming in the back of her mind, ready to act.

    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± the symbiote whispered.

    ¡°Yeah, I figured,¡± Vomi replied, a small smirk creeping onto her face as she pushed off the car. She could already hear the clanking of boots and the murmured voices of the gang members approaching.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep this clean,¡± she muttered under her breath, her fingers twitching slightly.

    <hr>

    They came out in search of someone, but didn''t find anything that could trigger the motion sensor, just a busted and hotwired Galena. Maybe it could be a kid that tried to steal the car before the owner could see, only to be caught in the act. Something far too common in Los Angeles. They still looked at anything suspicious, iron visible and their desire to kill rising. The jackets and tattoo being so snake and cobra based were hilarious, almost Yakuza like, but Vomi just waited in her hiding spot, behind the trash bin.

    All she needed to do was enter and secure the package. No need to kill. Not now at least.

    The gang members stood around the Galena, scanning the area, their guns drawn and eyes darting around suspiciously. One of them, the guy with the cigarette, took a long drag before letting out a puff of smoke.

    ¡°Damn kids, probably thought they could score a ride,¡± he muttered, his red eyes glowing faintly. ¡°I¡¯m not seeing anything.¡±

    Another, the guy with the busted chrome arm, walked around the car, kicking a piece of scrap metal on the ground. ¡°You sure the sensor wasn¡¯t just a glitch? This place is falling apart, after all.¡±

    The one with the cybernetic eye shook his head, still scanning with his optic. ¡°No glitches. It picked up something.¡±

    Vomi watched from behind the trash bin, staying perfectly still. She could feel the symbiote¡¯s anticipation in her mind, its energy humming just beneath the surface, ready to spring into action.

    ¡°Patience,¡± it whispered. ¡°Let them disperse.¡±

    She nodded subtly, waiting for the right moment. The longer they stayed distracted outside, the easier it would be to slip in and grab the package.

    The cigarette guy took one last look around and shrugged. ¡°Alright, whatever. If someone was dumb enough to mess with us, they¡¯re long gone by now. Let¡¯s head back in.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± the busted-arm guy said with a grumble, holstering his gun. ¡°But if I find out some little punk was messing with our turf, I¡¯m gonna¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, the guy with the cybernetic eye raised a hand, freezing in place. ¡°Wait. Hold up. There¡¯s something...¡±

    He turned his gaze toward the trash bin where Vomi was hiding, his cybernetic eye zooming in.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Vomi hissed under her breath. She had to act fast.

    Without hesitation, she leaped from her cover, moving faster than any of them could react. The cigarette guy barely had time to raise his gun before Vomi was on him, grabbing his wrist and twisting it violently. His weapon clattered to the ground as he let out a pained grunt.

    ¡°Who the¡ª¡± the busted-arm guy started, but Vomi didn¡¯t give him a chance to finish. She spun around, delivering a swift kick to his chest, sending him stumbling back.

    The others scrambled to raise their weapons, but Vomi was already in motion, ducking and weaving between them, using their own confusion to her advantage. The symbiote enhanced her reflexes, allowing her to move with precision and speed.

    ¡°We must neutralize them quickly,¡± the symbiote urged in her mind.

    ¡°I know,¡± Vomi replied, grabbing the gun from the cigarette guy¡¯s hand and tossing it aside before knocking him out with a swift punch to the jaw.

    The cybernetic-eye guy raised his pistol, but Vomi disarmed him in a blur of movement, flipping him over her shoulder and slamming him to the ground.

    With the last gang member out cold, Vomi stood in the quiet aftermath, breathing heavily but controlled.

    ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t exactly clean,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°It was effective,¡± the symbiote replied, its voice calm.

    Vomi glanced at the entrance to the hideout, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Let¡¯s get that package before anyone else shows up.¡±

    She entered the den, a garage with some cars also fully decals in snake patterns, mostly in green and orange. A weird combination, but it was made by a designer, someone that understood how visuals worked.

    ¡°Nova.¡±, She commented, ¡°I would keep one of those if I could.¡±

    ¡°Noted.¡±, The symbiote said, almost a whistle, ¡°The visual aesthetic is pleasing.¡±

    ¡°Did you just¡ª?¡±, Vomi almost felt some sort of appreciation by the symbiote, ¡°Nevermind. Now where is the package?¡±

    ¡°Do we even know what it is?¡±

    Vomi took out the device in her lab coat pocket, ¡°Engine parts from the client. Apparently he paid a lot to get these, but the Venti¡¯s klepped his stuff. A Mizutani Shion MZ2. Good ride.¡±

    ¡°Japanese car. Expensive.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    Vomi walked further into the garage, scanning the place for any sign of the package. The gang¡¯s hideout was a mess of scrap parts, half-finished car mods, and piles of junk, but she had to admit, the cars themselves were impressive. The snake decals, though tacky, had a certain charm.

    "Honestly," she muttered, kicking aside a broken bumper, "these gonks put more effort into their cars than their security."

    The symbiote hummed in agreement. "Priorities misplaced. But advantageous for us."

    She smirked. "Yeah, no complaints here."

    As she moved toward the back of the garage, she spotted a metal crate tucked behind some spare tires. "Bingo."

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    She crouched down, examining it. There was a lock, but nothing too fancy. A couple of sharp twists with a screwdriver, and it clicked open.

    Inside, she found what she was looking for: engine parts, neatly packed and wrapped in protective foam. She couldn¡¯t help but grin. "Looks like our payday."

    "Efficient," the symbiote remarked. "Now, we should depart before further interruptions."

    Vomi picked up the crate, weighing it in her hands. "You don¡¯t say. Let¡¯s hope those guys outside are still napping." She hefted the crate over her shoulder and started making her way back toward the exit, careful to avoid stepping on anything that would make noise.

    As she reached the door, the symbiote¡¯s voice chimed in again. "I must inquire¡ªwhat would you do with a vehicle like this Shion you mentioned?"

    Vomi paused, smirking. "Honestly? I¡¯d deck it out, keep it sleek but functional. Maybe a matte black finish, no flashy decals. Just clean and fast."

    "Practical. Yet aesthetically appealing. Acceptable."

    Vomi chuckled. "Are you... developing taste?"

    "I am optimizing," the symbiote corrected, though Vomi swore she could hear a hint of amusement in its voice.

    "Yeah, sure you are." She pushed open the door, taking one last glance at the knocked-out gang members. ¡°Let¡¯s get this back to Layla before these guys wake up. I¡¯ve had enough ¡®gang small talk¡¯ for one day.¡±

    "Agreed," the symbiote replied, its voice cool and steady as ever.

    She put the car parts on the Galena¡¯s trunk, the radio buzzing with a new radio station. It was PEBKAC, a radio mostly focused on techno music. The beat was good, although not fitting for the current situation.

    ¡°Never heard this one.¡±, She commented as he drove the car.

    ¡°Catchy.¡±, He said without much enthusiasm, but clearly enjoying it.

    Vomi drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, syncing up with the beat of the music. ¡°Yeah, I could get used to this,¡± she said with a smirk. ¡°Good driving tunes. Keeps the mood light, you know?¡±

    The symbiote hummed in agreement. ¡°A suitable rhythm for your current pace.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t peg you for a music fan,¡± Vomi teased, taking a sharp turn, the Galena¡¯s tires screeching a bit on the cracked asphalt.

    ¡°Optimizing environmental stimuli for performance,¡± the symbiote responded, but this time there was definitely a hint of amusement.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Whatever you say,¡± Vomi muttered, shaking her head with a grin. The streets were quiet for once, which was a rarity in this part of town. Maybe she¡¯d get back to Layla without any more trouble.

    As the miles passed, she thought about the job. Simple enough, but the eddies would be useful¡ªespecially if Layla followed through with that ripperdoc connection. She needed some chrome if she wanted to keep operating in cities like this.

    ¡°Think we¡¯ll actually get a clean payout?¡± Vomi asked, her voice slightly skeptical.

    ¡°Doubtful. These transactions rarely proceed without complications,¡± the symbiote answered, ever pragmatic.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought,¡± Vomi muttered. ¡°Well, here¡¯s hoping.¡±

    She pulled up to the warehouse, parking the Galena out front. The engine rumbled to a stop, and for a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the city around them.

    ¡°Ready?¡± the symbiote asked.

    Vomi stepped out, grabbing the crate from the trunk. ¡°As we''ll ever be.¡±

    She headed inside, nodding to the same guard who¡¯d escorted her earlier. He gave her a brief look but didn¡¯t say anything, just opened the door to Layla¡¯s office.

    Layla was sitting behind her desk, a cigarette in her hand, red optics glowing as she glanced up from her tablet. ¡°You got it?¡±

    Vomi tossed the crate onto the desk with a thud. ¡°One Mizutani Shion engine, or a lot of parts of it, as requested.¡±

    Layla smiled, taking a long drag from her cigarette. ¡°Nice work. I didn¡¯t hear any gunfire, so I assume it went smoothly?¡±

    ¡°As smooth as it can get with a bunch of Venti gangsters playing blackjack,¡± Vomi said with a shrug. ¡°Didn¡¯t have to go loud. Just knocked them around a bit.¡±

    Layla chuckled, exhaling smoke. ¡°Efficient. I like it.¡±

    ¡°So, about that payout?¡± Vomi leaned on the desk, eyebrow raised.

    Layla nodded, taking actual paper money. ¡°As for that ripperdoc¡ªhead over to Doc Vasquez¡¯s clinic down in Santa Monica. Tell him Layla sent you, and he¡¯ll take care of you. Just make sure you have enough to cover the work.¡±

    ¡°Appreciate it,¡± Vomi said, straightening up. ¡°Pleasure doing business.¡±

    Layla raised her cigarette in a mock toast. ¡°Stay alive, Vomi.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± she replied, turning to leave.

    ¡°What exactly do you need?¡±

    ¡°That''s something I need to talk about.¡±, She said as she entered the Galena, but didn''t run the engine. She started counting the paper money, confirming its authenticity, ¡°How exactly will that work? We got rid of that chrome before, but what about now? Can we store the basics or not?¡±

    She finished counting the EuroDollars, confirming it was a solid 2.5K payment.

    Good enough, she supposed.

    Vomi stuffed the Eurodollars into her jacket pocket, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the steering wheel as she sat in the Galena. "So, what''s the deal? Can we manage the basics now, or is it still a no-go?" she asked, directing the question to the symbiote.

    ¡°We can accommodate a small amount of basic augmentations,¡± the symbiote responded. ¡°However, anything too invasive may interfere with my functions. Balance is key.¡±

    Vomi sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, balance. Seems like that''s the trick to everything lately."

    She stared out the windshield, watching the occasional passerby shuffle through the streets. "I''m thinking of a basic interface, maybe a basic Ballistic Coprocessor before upgrading to a Smart Link. Nothing too heavy, just enough to give me an edge in tight spots."

    ¡°No optics?¡±, He suggested.

    ¡°Optics would only be good if my eyes actually needed them. I never had better eyesight. I feel I could see kilometers ahead and still see clearly.¡±, She nodded at her own words, watching as the N.U.S.A. flag flapped in the air from a few blocks of distance.

    She could even count the stars in it.

    ¡°The information of the optics would suffice our communication needs, as well as account for future payment.¡±, He reminded, something that Vomi almost forgot.

    ¡°Yeah, but wouldn''t it be a downgrade?¡±

    ¡°We can easily circumvent that.¡±, The symbiote explained as a mental image of a biological matter popped in Vomi''s head, ¡°Our biomass can manipulate the effects of the optics, meaning we can still have the upside effects of the cyberware without possible sacrifices.¡±

    ¡°.....Cooooool.¡±, She said as she slid down the driver''s seat. Vomi grinned, slouching further into the driver¡¯s seat as the symbiote¡¯s explanation replayed in her mind. ¡°So basically, I get all the perks, none of the downsides? Can¡¯t argue with that.¡±

    She started driving towards Santa Monica, now way more motivated to Chipp In.

    ¡°Efficiency is the priority,¡± the symbiote responded, its voice smooth and even. ¡°Enhancements without compromise. As long as it is viable to our capacity, of course.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°You sound like a corpo ad. ¡®Buy our chrome¡ªenhance your life, no trade-offs!¡¯¡±

    The symbiote didn¡¯t respond immediately, but Vomi could feel its presence hum slightly in amusement. ¡°Your analogy is noted.¡±

    Vomi chuckled as she drove into the clinic¡¯s lot, parking the Galena. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll see what Doc Vasquez says about this whole ¡®circumventing¡¯ business. Gotta admit though, being able to mod my eyes without screwing them up is kinda tempting.¡±

    ¡°Optics will assist in mission acquisition and environmental awareness,¡± the symbiote added.

    She pushed open the door, stepping out of the car. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know. Practical. But hey, I¡¯m allowed to be vain every now and then, right?¡±

    ¡°As long as it does not interfere with your functionality,¡± the symbiote replied, its tone almost teasing.

    Vomi smirked as she walked up to the clinic¡¯s entrance. ¡°You¡¯re getting real close to sounding like you have a personality, you know that?¡±

    The symbiote stayed quiet this time, but Vomi could feel the subtle warmth of its acknowledgment. She pushed the door open, stepping into the sterile, chrome-lined interior of Doc Vasquez¡¯s clinic. The hum of machinery and the faint scent of antiseptic filled the air.

    Behind the counter, a slim, middle-aged man with graying hair and augmented arms glanced up from his terminal. ¡°Layla sent you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Vomi nodded, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets. ¡°Got some eddies to burn. Looking to get started on some upgrades.¡±

    Doc Vasquez gave her a once-over, then leaned back in his chair. ¡°You sure? You¡¯re not already chipped, and first-time cyberware isn''t exactly a picnic.¡±

    Vomi shrugged. ¡°I can handle it. Looking for something basic¡ªneural interface, Ballistic Coprocessor. Maybe optics, if we can work it out.¡±

    The doc raised an eyebrow. ¡°Not a bad start. You got enough to cover all that?¡±

    Vomi patted her jacket pocket, the faint crinkle of paper money audible. ¡°Think so. Plus, Layla said you¡¯d hook me up.¡±

    Vasquez smirked. ¡°Yeah, she did mention that. Alright, let¡¯s see what we can do. But no complaining when you¡¯re groggy for a few days, got it?¡±

    ¡°Our biology helps us to not be affected at all by surgery. I will make myself undetectable in your system.¡±

    That''s all she needed to hear.

    ¡°Deal,¡± Vomi said, following him into the back of the clinic, where rows of cyberware glistened under fluorescent lights. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±

    Doc Vasquez led Vomi down a narrow corridor, the walls lined with posters showcasing various cyberware enhancements, each more extravagant than the last. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯ve got a couple of other clients waiting, but I can fit you in for a quick session. You¡¯re lucky Layla put in a good word for you.¡±

    ¡°Good to know I¡¯ve got some pull around here,¡± Vomi replied, glancing at a poster advertising the latest in neural enhancements. ¡°What¡¯s with all the flashy designs? You¡¯d think this place was a nightclub, not a clinic.¡±

    Vasquez chuckled. ¡°Gotta keep things interesting, right? Plus, half my clients want to show off their new gear. It¡¯s a status symbol in our line of work.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m more about function over form. I want to get in and out without making a scene.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he said, leading her into a small, sterile room equipped with an examination chair that looked more like a cross between a dental chair and a futuristic throne. ¡°Take a seat. I¡¯ll prep everything for your upgrades.¡±

    Vomi sat down, the chair¡¯s material cool against her skin. ¡°So, what¡¯s the pain level like for these things? I¡¯ve heard horror stories.¡±

    Vasquez began assembling tools on a nearby tray, his movements precise. ¡°It varies. The interface is generally pretty straightforward, but the Ballistic Coprocessor might sting a bit. Just breathe through it. I¡¯ll numb the area first.¡±

    ¡°Fucking Nova,¡± Vomi said, feigning a grimace. ¡°Can¡¯t wait for that.¡±

    As Vasquez prepared the equipment, Vomi glanced at the mirror on the wall. ¡°You ever think about getting any upgrades yourself, Doc?¡±

    He paused, looking up from his tools with a wry smile. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m more of a ¡®behind the scenes¡¯ guy. Plus, the last thing I need is to be a target. Clients want their doctor to look human, not like a chrome-plated monster.¡±

    ¡°Fair point. But, come on, a little chrome would make you look badass.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he laughed. ¡°If I had eddies for every time I heard that. Let¡¯s focus on you today.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. Just trying to lighten the mood.¡± She took a deep breath, readying herself. ¡°Let¡¯s get this started before I change my mind.¡±

    Vasquez nodded, prepping a syringe filled with a numbing agent. It looked more like a mini sized pistol than anything ¡°Alright, here comes the fun part. Just relax, and we¡¯ll have you sorted in no time. This should make you sleep the whole process.¡±

    ¡°Stimulants are safe.¡±, The symbiote told, apparently he was still checking to see if anything was wrong.

    Good.

    ¡°Stimulants are safe,¡± Vomi echoed, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over her as she nodded at the symbiote¡¯s calm voice. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    Vasquez injected the numbing agent into her arm, and Vomi felt a slight sting, but it faded quickly. ¡°Not bad,¡± she said, flexing her fingers. ¡°I can get used to this.¡±

    ¡°Just wait until the actual upgrades start,¡± Vasquez replied with a knowing grin. ¡°You might change your mind about being used to it.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. The thrill of regret, just what I wanted,¡± Vomi shot back, smirking.

    As he began prepping the neural interface, she turned her attention back to the mirror, examining her reflection. ¡°You ever have anyone come in here and pass out? Like, mid-surgery?¡±

    ¡°Surprisingly, not as often as you¡¯d think,¡± Vasquez said, arranging tools with meticulous care. ¡°Most people who come in are either way too confident or have a serious need for upgrades. It¡¯s the ones who think they can handle it but panic halfway through that worry me.¡±

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Vomi replied, trying to picture someone fainting mid-op. ¡°I¡¯d probably just laugh if I saw it happen. But, hey, I won¡¯t be that person today. I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Vasquez raised an eyebrow, amused. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see how ready you really are.¡±

    With that, he initiated the procedure. The first sensation Vomi felt was warmth spreading through her as the interface connected to her nervous system. ¡°Whoa, that¡¯s... strange.¡±

    ¡°Strange how?¡± Vasquez asked, keeping his focus on the task at hand.

    ¡°Like a warm hug from the inside,¡± she replied, letting out a soft chuckle. ¡°But, you know, less creepy.¡±

    ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± he said, concentrating as he adjusted the settings. ¡°Just keep breathing.¡±

    ¡°I don''t feel my lips.¡±, She commented while doing some pops with her mouth.

    ¡°That''s good. The stimulant is doing as intended.¡±

    ¡°Weird how a stimulant makes you not stimulated.¡±

    ¡°You get used to it. Do you feel anything here?¡±, Vazquez said as he poked the back of her neck.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then I will cut here. Neural interfaces tend to take a while. After that I will give you some Optics and connect everything so we can test if there is anything wrong.¡±, He said as he was already cutting her neck.

    She felt that her skin and flesh could heal itself, but chose not to so the surgery could go on.

    As Vasquez made the incision, Vomi felt the faint tugging sensation, like a feather brushing against her skin. ¡°This is surprisingly chill,¡± she said, her voice steady despite the procedure. ¡°Who knew surgery could feel like this?¡±

    ¡°Most people don¡¯t have the luxury of feeling relaxed during surgery,¡± Vasquez replied, carefully inserting the neural interface. ¡°I take it you¡¯ve had some interesting experiences?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯ve seen my fair share of bad days. A little slice and dice doesn¡¯t scare me,¡± she quipped, trying to keep the mood light.

    ¡°Good attitude. Helps to have a strong mental game in this line of work.¡± He secured the interface in place, then leaned back to assess his progress. ¡°How¡¯s the sensation now?¡±

    ¡°Still numb,¡± she said, flicking her fingers and wiggling her toes. ¡°But I¡¯m definitely awake. Guess that means we¡¯re making progress.¡±

    ¡°Almost there,¡± Vasquez said, wiping his brow. ¡°Now for the optics. This part¡¯s a bit more involved, so you might feel some pressure. But don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be seeing clearer than ever.¡±

    This time he applied another stimulant in her forehead, her sight slowly but steadily disappearing.

    ¡°I''m blind.¡±

    ¡°That means I can remove your cornea and boot up the diagnostics. Just wait a bit.¡±

    She felt some pressure in her eyeholes, but that was part of the job. She kept quiet because it was way different to cut your eyes than to cut your neck, any movement and it would be ugly to watch. Vazquez, despite not being a super ripperdoc, did a decent job at explaining what he was doing as she was temporarily blind, step by step. It was almost comforting, but Vomi could feel the symbiote ready to attack if anything went south. Basic optics meant a simple HUD, a connection to the shallows of the net, an agent to make and/or receive calls... That sort of stuff.

    Vasquez continued working, his voice steady and reassuring. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re almost finished with the diagnostics. Just a few adjustments to calibrate the optics.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± Vomi replied, trying to focus on his voice instead of the pressure in her eye sockets. ¡°What¡¯s it like being a ripperdoc? I mean, do you ever get tired of dealing with all the...you know, cyberpsychos?¡±

    He chuckled softly, the sound echoing around the sterile room. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised. Most of my clients are just regular folks looking to improve their lives. But yeah, there¡¯s the occasional junkie or thrill-seeker. They can make things interesting.¡±

    ¡°I can imagine,¡± Vomi said, her voice a bit muffled. ¡°What about the ones who come in with crazy ideas? You know, like getting an arm replaced with a railgun or something?¡±

    ¡°Those are the fun ones,¡± he said, his tone light. ¡°But I have to remind them that with great chrome comes great responsibility. Can¡¯t have everyone running around like a walking weapons factory.¡±

    ¡°True. You¡¯d think some people would learn,¡± Vomi said, feeling the tug and pull as he worked. ¡°So, what¡¯s the craziest upgrade you¡¯ve ever done?¡±

    Vasquez paused for a moment, then replied, ¡°There was this one guy who wanted to implant a memory chip directly into his brain to store music. He thought it would make him a walking jukebox. Ended up with some serious side effects. We had to do a lot of backtracking to fix it.¡±

    ¡°Yikes,¡± Vomi winced at the thought. ¡°Guess he learned the hard way.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a tough lesson,¡± Vasquez said, his voice growing a bit serious. ¡°Not everything is as simple as it seems in this line of work. That¡¯s why I always tell my clients to think it through before making any permanent decisions.¡±

    ¡°Solid advice,¡± she acknowledged, trying to keep her mind off the discomfort. ¡°So, what would you say is the most common upgrade people go for?¡±

    ¡°Usually, it¡¯s a neural interface or some form of enhanced vision. Everyone wants to see better or think faster. It¡¯s the basics that help you survive out here,¡± he said as he finished the adjustments. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re almost done. Just a few more tweaks to the optics.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Vomi said, her voice steadier now. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see how much clearer things will be.¡±

    Vasquez chuckled, ¡°Trust me, it¡¯ll be like a whole new world. You¡¯ll be able to spot a gonk from a mile away.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°Perfect. Just what I need¡ªmore warning for trouble.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Alright, last step. Just hold still for me.¡±

    Vomi felt a quick sensation, almost like a flicker, and then her vision gradually returned. Bright lights, vivid colors¡ªit all hit her at once. She blinked, adjusting to the enhanced clarity. ¡°Whoa.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s it look?¡± Vasquez asked, a hint of pride in his voice.

    ¡°Like I¡¯m seeing¡­¡± she replied, scanning the room, ¡°Shit. That''s preem.¡±

    She needed to fake excitement because the symbiote already gave her top notch visibility. This was just¡­ higher definition? Hard to describe.

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± he said, starting to clean up his tools. ¡°Now, give your eyes a moment to adjust fully. You might notice some extra data overlays as well, depending on how your brain handles the upgrades.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the symbiote will take care of that,¡± she said, almost absentmindedly.

    Vasquez raised an eyebrow, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±, She shook her head, ¡°What about the UI? I can see a¡­ mini-map?¡±

    ¡°That''s the GPS, yes.¡±, He commented, still confused at the previous comment, ¡°Now, I know Layla set you up, but I need payment.¡±

    ¡°What about the Bullet Coprocessor?¡±

    ¡°I don''t have it in stock at the moment.¡±, He said as he checked again at the terminal with the Bio-diagnosis, ¡°But when you come back eventually, probably to get more chrome for your gigs, you can come back and I''ll finish it up.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I guess.¡±, She said, giving the full amount.

    He counted the money but quickly shot a glance at her, ¡°You should get a bank account. Not many people accept paper eddies nowadays. Sure it is untraceable, but it also is suspicious.¡±

    "And an ID. I am completely off the grid. Can''t be like that no more.", Vomi agreed as she stretched her legs, "That''s the whole reason why I am getting chrome in the first place."

    "Being ganic for so long does that.", He nodded, "I guess only exotics are those who don''t care about it."

    "The people that chrome animal parts on themselves?"

    Just the mental image was enough to make her wince. Even the symbiote winced.

    "Yeah.", He said with a grimace, but turned to her right after, "Anything wrong with your eyes? Can you move with no problem?"

    She tested her movement and even blinked a few times, "All good."

    "Then we are finished here. I have more clients to take care of. Stay safe.¡±

    Vomi nodded and left, her barefoot feet making soft noises as she walked the sidewalk. She leaned into the Galena who was still dusty from all the desert stuff, but she needed time to think a bit.

    ¡°Information from Neural is acceptable. Data is processed quicker now.¡±, The symbiote gave his approval.

    But Vomi was focused on something else entirely.

    "You ever wonder what it''d be like without you?" she asked suddenly, the question slipping out before she could really think about it.

    The symbiote hesitated, its presence in her mind feeling more pronounced. ¡°I exist to enhance your capabilities. Without me, your physical limitations would be¡­ noticeable.¡±

    ¡°Right, but I mean beyond that,¡± Vomi said, her fingers tracing the edge of the Galena. ¡°Like, would I even be the same person? Or just some random kid stuck in a dying world?¡±

    ¡°Identity is a construct,¡± the symbiote replied. ¡°You are Vomi. My existence merely complements your biology and experience.¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say,¡± she muttered, feeling a pang of frustration. ¡°You¡¯re not the one who has to deal with the memories of being¡­ Well, whoever I was before. The fear of being more monster than human.¡±

    ¡°Fear is a natural response to change,¡± it acknowledged. ¡°But you possess agency. You make choices that define your being. My existence does not dictate your identity; it amplifies your abilities.¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± she said, feeling the weight of her thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s hard sometimes. I mean, I¡¯ve been living this new life, but that doesn¡¯t erase what I was. Sometimes I catch myself thinking¡ªwhat if I¡¯m just a shell of who I used to be? What if I¡¯m more of your puppet than I¡¯d like to admit?¡±

    A heavy silence settled between them. The symbiote¡¯s presence felt contemplative, almost protective. ¡°You are not a puppet. We are one, and we perform as one. We choose how to use our enhancements, be them biological, spiritual or cybernetic. Each decision we make builds our identity, regardless of our biological makeup.¡±

    Vomi leaned against the car, staring into the distance where the city lights flickered like stars. ¡°What if those choices lead me down a path I don¡¯t want to take? What if I become someone I can¡¯t recognize?¡±

    ¡°That is the risk inherent in being alive. You told me it yourself.¡± the symbiote responded, its tone steady. ¡°But we have the ability to steer our course. Embrace our humanity or monstrosity, our experiences¡ªboth good and bad. They are the threads of our identity.¡±

    She sighed, letting the weight of those words settle in. ¡°Yeah, I know. Just feels like I¡¯m balancing on a tightrope sometimes, you know? One wrong step and I could fall.¡±

    ¡°Then let''s learn to walk it with confidence,¡± the symbiote encouraged. ¡°You have already faced challenges that would break others. Trust in our strength, in the skills we''re acquiring. Each upgrade is a step toward our own empowerment.¡±

    Vomi smirked slightly, appreciating the sentiment. ¡°Yeah, well, empowerment doesn¡¯t come without its own set of complications. Now I¡¯m not just hunting for survival; I¡¯m hunting for¡­ what? Purpose?¡±

    ¡°Purpose is subjective,¡± it said, almost teasingly. ¡°It can evolve as we do. We can be a survivor, a seeker of knowledge, and perhaps a protector of the weak. We define our purpose.¡±

    ¡°Okay, Mr. Philosophical,¡± she said, shaking her head but smiling despite herself. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope this new vision helps me find it. Because right now, I feel like I¡¯m still in the dark.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, all we need right now is to listen to music.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡°Did- Did you just suggest that I listen to the radio?¡±

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡±

    Vomi snorted.

    Then she chuckled.

    Then she full out cackled at the idea.

    Vomi laughed, the sound echoing in the enclosed space of the Galena. ¡°You know, I never thought I¡¯d have an alien buddy who¡¯s also a wannabe DJ. What¡¯s next? Are you going to suggest I start a playlist?¡±

    ¡°I believe my musical taste is superior to yours,¡± the symbiote said with feigned arrogance. ¡°Besides, there are myriad genres. We can experiment with our sonic identity.¡±

    ¡°Okay, ¡®DJ Symbiote,¡¯ what would you recommend? Something that screams ¡®I¡¯m a badass reincarnated monster¡¯?¡± She switched the radio dial, scanning through static-laden stations.

    ¡°Techno would be fitting, but I recommend something with a bit more¡­ edge,¡± it replied. ¡°How about a hard-hitting synthwave track? It conveys a sense of nostalgia for a world that no longer exists.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like that¡¯s exactly what I want while driving through this cyberpunk nightmare,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s blast some feel-good tunes while I contemplate my existence.¡±

    ¡°Existential dread is the best ambiance for music,¡± it retorted. ¡°Imagine the irony! You, a fearsome entity, bumping to the beats while grappling with your very essence.¡±

    ¡°Wow, you really are getting philosophical, huh?¡± she teased, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. ¡°Next, you¡¯ll tell me that my cyberware is just a way to feel whole again.¡±

    ¡°Is it not?¡± the symbiote mused. ¡°The upgrades enhance your capabilities, but they also give you a sense of belonging¡ªan identity that intertwines with technology.¡±

    ¡°Okay, you make a fair point, but I refuse to have a sentimental relationship with my future Ballistic Coprocessor. It¡¯s just a chunk of metal and wires.¡± She paused, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror. ¡°Although, I could name it¡­ Something like ¡®Billy the Bullet¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Billy the Bullet? Quite juvenile for a sentient being like us,¡± it replied, amusement clear in its tone.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t knock it until you try it! You don¡¯t know how much power a name can hold,¡± she shot back, a playful glint in her eyes. ¡°I could even start a trend¡ªother people could name their cyberware, too! Imagine the conversations at the local bar!¡±

    ¡°I foresee much eye-rolling,¡± the symbiote said, its presence vibrating with humor. ¡°But if it brings you joy, perhaps it is worth considering.¡±

    Vomi smirked, feeling a bit lighter. ¡°You know what? Maybe it¡¯s not such a bad idea. I¡¯ll be the trendsetter of the dystopian underbelly! ¡®Hey, check out my new chrome! I call it¡­ Betty the Blaster!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Clever,¡± it replied. ¡°But I would advise against announcing your enhancements aloud in public spaces. It might attract¡­ unwanted attention.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± she agreed, stifling a laugh. ¡°But at least I could create a band. ¡®Vomi and the Cyberware Crew!¡¯ We¡¯d be the hottest act in Night City. All the cool kids would want to join!¡±

    ¡°Imagine the promotional material,¡± the symbiote said, its tone flat. ¡°An image of you posing heroically with your chrome enhancements, proclaiming, ¡®Join the gang; leave your humanity behind!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a marketing strategy I can get behind!¡± she said, clearly relishing the banter. ¡°I can already see the posters plastered around the city. ¡®Join Vomi¡ªfun, friendship, and some killer upgrades!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Vomi, the ironic champion of human connection,¡± the symbiote replied, sounding amused. ¡°Though I¡¯d recommend steering clear of actual cannibalism.¡±

    ¡°Right, cannibalism¡¯s a hard pass,¡± she said, shaking her head as she navigated through the bustling streets of Santa Monica. ¡°Still, I appreciate the dark humor. It makes all this introspection slightly more bearable.¡±

    ¡°Introspection and humor can coexist. Embrace it,¡± the symbiote encouraged, its tone lighter. ¡°But don¡¯t forget the true purpose of our journey. There are challenges ahead.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she said, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°But for now, food.¡±

    ¡°Food.¡±, He agreed instantly.

    ¡°And eddies. We need an actual car. The Galena is fine, but I need something not stolen.¡±

    ¡°Clothes too.¡±, He mentioned, making Vomi glance at her still barefoot feet.

    ¡°We go back to Layla and ask for another gig?¡±

    ¡°A wise strategy.¡±

    ¡°Aaaaaaalright then.¡±, She said as she turned her wheel.

    That day was good.

    She felt good.

    Preem.

 Chapter 5: San Francisco Huscler.

    Two weeks have passed since Vomi chipped the basics of Chrome, got her ID¡ªthis time as Vomi Kurosaki¡ªstacked a few more Eurodollars in her bank, and, unsurprisingly, was still driving around in the same battered Galena. The dusty wastelands of the N.U.S.A. stretched endlessly before her, and she had to admit, leaving LA was kind of a relief. Breathing in that toxic soup for so long almost made her forget what real desert air felt like. It was dry, harsh, and¡ªyeah¡ªstill full of sand, but better than the smog.

    A few extra eddies were enough to keep the Galena chugging along with CHOOH2, but the car was definitely on its last legs, or wheels, really. The thing hated the desert even more than she did.

    "C''mon, buddy," Vomi muttered, patting the speedometer like that would somehow help, "Just a few more kilometers, miles, yards, or whatever you¡¯re coded with."

    "This trip is proving to be quite¡­ involved," the symbiote remarked, gazing into the cracked rearview mirror. ¡°I¡¯ll calculate for future long-distance expeditions.¡±

    ¡°We need to calculate a new fucking car,¡± she snapped, spitting out the gritty taste of sand from her mouth. ¡°These tires are almost not bad. They¡¯re terrible.¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you just comforting the vehicle a moment ago?¡± the symbiote teased, his tone smug, like he could grin if he had lips.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡± Vomi scowled, glaring at him in the mirror. ¡°That¡¯s not the point!¡±

    The Galena''s engine popped as a way of protest. It was either great timing or the car just talked.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± She whispered but refocused on the road ahead, the Galena creaking in response at every bump. ¡°We need an actual Nomad vehicle. The Galena did its job, but it¡¯s about ready for retirement.¡±

    ¡°And where do you propose we find such a vehicle?¡± the symbiote asked, bemused.

    ¡°Hunting Nomads, duh.¡± Vomi rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever. She squinted into the distance, a satisfied grin forming. ¡°Nova.¡±

    The symbiote, ever observant, noticed how her vocabulary had been filling up with more street slang lately, but chose not to comment on it, instead merging back into her, their thoughts becoming one. How are we going to do this?

    Easy, she thought back, running a finger over the shard slots in her neck. ¡°We¡¯ll just need to jack a shard from one of their rides, then klep it. Once we¡¯ve got that, it¡¯s ours. Hopefully, we¡¯ll score a decent wheel or something sturdy enough to handle the sand.¡±

    They drove in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning the horizon. Soon enough, she spotted what she was looking for: a small cluster of tents from an unknown Nomad clan. The perfect target.

    Vomi pulled the Galena to the side of the road, killing the engine. She narrowed her eyes, zooming in on the camp up ahead. Her enhanced vision, a blend of her natural abilities and new chrome, sharpened everything. Who knew cyberware would make her a predator this efficient?

    ¡°I see the vehicles,¡± she muttered, focusing on the cluster of rides parked near the tents. One in particular¡ªa Colby¡ªcaught her eye. It looked like it could bulldoze through the worst the desert had to offer.

    ¡°Looks promising,¡± the symbiote chimed in. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°Same as always,¡± Vomi smirked, pulling a small iron from its holster. ¡°We move fast, we move quiet, and we don¡¯t stop until we get what we want.¡±

    She held a piece of iron. It was a simple Nue. Fast and compact, no difficulty using it.

    Practicality over style.

    She stepped out of the car, this time actually dressed for the occasion. Gone were the medical scrubs and crunches she¡¯d been rocking. Now, she sported a full white coat¡ªnot the lab kind, but one of those faux-leather materials that tried way too hard to look like the real deal. Real leather? Way out of her budget. She¡¯d rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, showing off a long-sleeve undershirt that stretched over her hands, with holes for her fingers so she could still feel her surroundings. Camo cargo pants that shifted patterns when the light hit them right and boots that were ridiculously high-heeled, but practical.

    Her glasses were still there too, despite them being completely unnecessary with her bioware and cyberware now. Two reasons she shouldn¡¯t wear them, and yet, here she was.

    And as always, everything was black¡ªexcept for that white coat.

    ¡°There are seven of them,¡± she commented as the door clicked shut behind her.

    ¡°Lethal or non-lethal?¡± the symbiote asked, much calmer than it had been during their first run-in with the Militech drone.

    ¡°No deaths, please,¡± Vomi sighed, glancing at the camp again. ¡°We just want the car, not their lives.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± it replied, its tone light but focused.

    Vomi cracked her neck, feeling the slight hum of her upgrades kick in. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    Vomi moved swiftly across the sand, her enhanced vision tracking every movement from the camp. The symbiote¡¯s awareness synced with her own, feeding her details about the nomads'' positioning, the distance between her and the Colby, and the wind direction.

    ¡°They seem relaxed,¡± the symbiote observed. ¡°No one¡¯s patrolling.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Vomi whispered, ducking behind a low dune. ¡°Less hassle for us.¡±

    The nomads looked like they¡¯d been out in the desert for a while¡ªdusty, sunburnt, and probably tired. They were huddled near a fire, talking and laughing, completely unaware of her creeping presence. Vomi paused, crouching low as she scanned their setup again.

    The Colby was parked closest to the edge of the camp. It was big, rugged, and definitely looked modified enough to survive the harsh terrain. She could almost taste the freedom it promised. The rider of the car was peacefully sleeping inside it, a quick snap of the symbiote¡¯s tendril was enough to hinder the future threat. Not dead, but asleep for a good while.

    ¡°Get ready,¡± Vomi whispered, adjusting her grip on the Nue. ¡°I¡¯m going for the shard. You watch my back.¡±

    The symbiote''s voice echoed in her mind. ¡°Acknowledged.¡±

    Vomi sneaked silently around the Colby, her boots making barely a sound in the sand. She slid behind the vehicle, her heart racing as she crouched near the driver¡¯s side door. The shard was still in the nomad''s neck, of course, but putting her personal chord on his Biomon was enough for her to get some valuable data.

    ¡°Quick hack?¡± the symbiote suggested, already prepping its system.

    ¡°No cyberdeck, so we will do it the long way,¡± Vomi muttered. The firewall wasn''t as good as she expected, even more thanks to it belonging to a person. But then again, who would steal a car shard out of a nomad? ¡°Old-school chrome. Gotta love it.¡±

    Once inside, she wasted no time. She reached under the dashboard, her fingers inserting the shard slot. With a quick tug, the engine came to life.

    ¡°Got it,¡± she whispered, excitement taking over her.

    Suddenly, a shout echoed from the camp. Vomi froze, her heart skipping a beat.

    ¡°They heard us,¡± the symbiote warned, its voice tense. ¡°Two of them are heading this way.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± she hissed, putting the car''s gear to drive. ¡°Time to move.¡±

    The engine roared dangerously, already making it way better than the Galena, giving a satisfying growl. Vomi grinned, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± she yelled, slamming the gas pedal just as two nomads came running toward her. The Colby shot forward, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. The nomads yelled something unintelligible as they dove out of the way, but Vomi didn¡¯t stick around to hear it.

    The symbiote chimed in as they sped away, ¡°That went smoother than expected.¡±

    Vomi laughed, adrenaline still coursing through her. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m getting good at this.¡±

    As the desert stretched out ahead of them, Vomi glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the camp shrink into the distance. The Colby handled like a dream compared to the Galena, its suspension absorbing every bump and dip in the rough terrain.

    She exhaled, finally relaxing into the seat. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re moving up in the world.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± the symbiote agreed, its tone pleased. ¡°No more limping around in that old Galena.¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Now we just need a name for this beast.¡±

    ¡°Please, no,¡± the symbiote groaned, but Vomi could feel its amusement beneath the protest.

    ¡°Oh, come on. How about something fitting for our new ride? ¡®Sandstorm¡¯? ¡®Dust Devil¡¯?¡± she teased, her fingers tapping the steering wheel.

    ¡°Your creativity is truly boundless,¡± the symbiote replied dryly.

    ¡°Alright, fine,¡± she said, laughing. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it. But first, let¡¯s see how far this baby can¡ª¡±

    The windshield was immediately destroyed as bullets came from their pursuers.

    ¡°I should have expected that.¡±

    ¡°Me too.¡±, The symbiote agreed, ¡°I drive.¡±

    As soon as he said that, tendrils and appendages came out of her arms and body, leaving enough room so she could pick up the iron to shoot back. Of course she needed to aim at the drivers, because these tires of nomad vehicles are way too sturdier for a pea shooter to do any damage.

    Oh well, it is what it is.

    ¡°I was trying to be nice!¡±, The scientist said as she shot the windshield of the cars.

    Bullets did make the drivers flinch, but equal amount of fire returned. After all, they had four door cars, while Vomi was only one. Can''t out-gun people with more iron than you.

    ¡°Zero her! She klepped Bernard''s ride!¡±, One of the drivers yelled as he tried his best to not get shot.

    ¡°What do you think I am doing, pendejo?!¡±

    Good thing they didn''t have a good chemistry as Vomi and the symbiote.

    ¡°Rocky road ahead.¡±, The alien said as he drove past a few holes on the pavement, the Colby bumping bit, but nowhere near what the Galena felt.

    ¡°We need to delta, like, right now!¡±, Vomi yelped as she tried to fire only for the bumps to make her miss, ¡°Can''t you drive?!¡±

    ¡°I am driving,¡± the symbiote responded with mock indignation, swerving the Colby to avoid a patch of jagged rocks. ¡°Perhaps you should focus on shooting instead of criticizing.¡±

    Vomi gritted her teeth, squinting through the shattered windshield. The nomads weren¡¯t backing down. Two of them flanked her on either side, their guns spitting fire as they closed the gap.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± she snapped, steadying herself against the dashboard. She took a breath and squeezed off another shot, this time nailing one of the pursuing drivers in the shoulder. His car jerked to the side, careening off the road and into a ditch.

    ¡°One down,¡± the symbiote remarked calmly, even as the Colby¡¯s rear window shattered under more gunfire.

    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯ve still got company!¡± Vomi yelled, ducking as bullets whizzed past her head. She cursed under her breath. ¡°We need to lose them!¡±

    ¡°Suggestions?¡± the symbiote asked, ever-so-slightly impatient now.

    Vomi quickly scanned the horizon. Up ahead, the road split¡ªone path led toward a canyon, the other into the open desert.

    ¡°The canyon!¡± she shouted. ¡°It¡¯s narrow¡ªthey won¡¯t be able to follow us through!¡±

    ¡°Hold on, then.¡±

    Without another word, the symbiote yanked the steering wheel, sending the Colby screeching down the canyon path. The terrain quickly became rougher, the walls of the canyon closing in on either side. The nomads hesitated, clearly not thrilled about navigating the tight space at high speeds.

    ¡°They¡¯re slowing down,¡± the symbiote noted, a hint of satisfaction in its voice.

    ¡°Good,¡± Vomi muttered, her pulse still racing. She turned in her seat, firing one last shot at the remaining nomad vehicle, which skidded to a halt as its driver lost control, unable to handle the rocky canyon trail.

    With a final burst of speed, Vomi and the symbiote left their pursuers behind, the sound of gunfire fading into the distance.

    Vomi exhaled sharply, finally relaxing back into her seat. ¡°Well, that was fun.¡±

    ¡°If your definition of fun includes almost getting killed,¡± the symbiote quipped.

    She smirked, wiping the sweat from her brow. ¡°Eh, keeps things interesting.¡±

    As they sped through the canyon, the dust swirling around them, Vomi felt a strange sense of exhilaration. She glanced down at her hands, feeling the symbiote¡¯s presence hum just beneath her skin.

    ¡°Guess we make a good team after all, huh?¡±

    The symbiote¡¯s voice echoed in her mind, soft and amused. ¡°It would appear so.¡±

    Vomi chuckled, adjusting her grip on the Nue. ¡°Alright, choom. Let¡¯s see where this road takes us.¡±

    The tendrils merged again as Vomi took control of the wheels. A few minutes later, she apologized to the Colby as its new owner wasn''t as careful as it needed to be, the chassis being more like a cheese than anything else. A sign showed that there was a road to San Francisco, meaning that despite the unusual detour, they were still in the right direction.

    Vomi settled back into the driver¡¯s seat, glancing at the battered chassis of the Colby. "Poor baby. Got you all shot up already, huh?" she muttered, patting the dashboard like she was consoling an old friend. "I¡¯ll patch you up when we hit San Francisco."

    ¡°That¡¯s assuming you don¡¯t run us into another firefight before then,¡± the symbiote remarked dryly, its voice buzzing lightly in her head.

    Vomi rolled her eyes. "Don¡¯t jinx it."

    As the road signs blurred past, a familiar static settled into the air. The desert gave way to cracked highways, and in the distance, the faint outline of San Francisco began to rise on the horizon. The city was still a ways off, but it was the closest thing to civilization they¡¯d seen in days.

    ¡°Think we¡¯ll find a ripperdoc there?¡± Vomi asked, idly tapping the steering wheel.

    ¡°Almost certainly,¡± the symbiote replied. ¡°Though they may not operate under legal means.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, legal¡¯s never really been their thing anyway,¡± she said with a smirk.

    As they drove, the adrenaline began to wear off, leaving her with the familiar hum of post-action fatigue. She shifted in her seat, wincing slightly as the soreness in her body caught up with her. ¡°Could use a break,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°The city isn¡¯t far,¡± the symbiote said. ¡°We¡¯ll find rest soon.¡±

    Vomi grinned. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like a real travel companion, you know that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m adaptable,¡± it responded.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the sun beginning its descent behind them, casting long shadows over the road. Vomi¡¯s eyes scanned the horizon as the faint glimmer of neon lights became visible in the distance. The radio picked up a signal and the first thing that started playing was Never Fade Away.

    ¡°No shit!¡±, Vomi beamed up, ¡°We''ve lost everything!¡±

    She started singing along with the song, the lyrics confusing the shit out of the symbiote.

    As the iconic guitar riff of Never Fade Away blared through the speakers, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but grin wide. She tapped the beat on the steering wheel, bobbing her head in time with the music.

    "We''ve had to pay the price!" she sang out, not caring if the symbiote didn¡¯t quite get it. This was a piece of history, something that connected her to a world she¡¯d never fully been a part of, but somehow understood.

    The symbiote¡¯s voice cut in, slightly bemused. ¡°I assume this is a... cultural artifact of some importance?¡±

    ¡°More than you¡¯ll ever know,¡± Vomi replied, still lost in the song. ¡°This is what Night City used to be. Before it turned into the corpo hellhole it is now. I mean, it was always a corpo hellhole, Samurai were made as a protest, but¡­¡± Her voice softened as she sang along with the chorus. ¡°It¡¯s a reminder of how things were, you know?¡±

    The symbiote seemed to process that for a moment before responding. ¡°So, you relate to this song? Despite its age?¡±

    Vomi laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not about the age. It¡¯s about the feeling¡ªthe rebellion, the defiance.¡± She turned the volume up, feeling the hum of the music vibrate through her bones. ¡°It¡¯s about fighting for something, even when everything¡¯s stacked against you.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± the symbiote mused. ¡°Then it mirrors your current situation.¡±

    ¡°Damn straight,¡± Vomi said with a smirk. ¡°We''re not just surviving out here¡ªwe¡¯re fighting.¡±

    As the city skyline came closer, the neon lights grew more defined. San Francisco wasn¡¯t the same as it used to be either, but it was still standing. Like her. Like Johnny Silverhand¡¯s voice echoing through the Colby¡¯s speakers, it was a reminder that nothing really fades away. It just evolves.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Vomi muttered, lowering the music as they hit the city¡¯s outskirts. ¡°First stop: garage. Gotta get patched up and check on this car. Register to myself and get a new paint job.¡±

    The symbiote¡¯s voice was calm. ¡°Agreed. Let¡¯s not forget to refuel while we¡¯re at it. The Colby is running low.¡±

    Vomi rolled her eyes. ¡°Always thinking ahead, huh?¡±

    ¡°One of us has to,¡± it replied dryly.

    ¡°Fuck you.¡±

    They both snickered.

    <hr>

    The Colby, despite still being a Nomad vehicle and drawing a lot of attention, was now fully fixed and with a good paint job, the matte black that Vomi mentioned when she told what she''d do with the Mizutani Shion MZ2. Her bank account was drained out, meaning that gigs were underway, but for now, she used the last bit to buy a noodle bowl, enough that she could satisfy her mental need of food. It wasn''t bad, but it wasn''t good. Bittersweet? Bland? Hard to say. For now she just slurped the whole thing before checking her Agent''s GPS system and look for local deetes.

    San Francisco was boring.

    The outline of the city from the wasteland would make you think that the neon and advertising made the city a real treat to look at, or in the case of comparison to the New York City, a real eyesore, again, thanks to the amount of ads there were on Times Square. However, something that did exist in San Fran was the uncountable amount of SFPD requests for solos and mercs, basically hiring every huscle they can go help with the increasing crime rate the city was having. Since no major corps are here, Arasaka not finding anything worth keeping or taking, Petrochem far away with their development and whatever they do in their buildings and Militech not being seen, this place was bound to have crime.

    The minor corps that were here, KanedaCorp and M-Tech didn''t really do much to the local populace. Why would they? It''s not like they will gain from protecting the civilians, unless they themselves hunt down the gangs and wannabes.

    ¡°You a Beenie?¡±, The Noodle stand owner asked, ¡°You seem lost ¡®round here.¡±

    ¡°I am South American, I am a Beenie to everyone here.¡±, She replied, her eyes still shining blue as she checked the files of SFPD.

    ¡°You a refugee? Came from the mob war?¡±, He asked as he served another customer.

    ¡°No. I was born there, but lived outside of that continent for years now.¡±, Vomi replied as she finally chose what to do next.

    ¡°Well, suit yourself. Don''t get flatlined. Things aren''t good around here.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, choom.¡±

    Vomi was just about to enter her Colby when the symbiote spoke, ¡°You are a Latina?¡±

    ¡°In my last life, yes.¡±, She nodded as she sat at the drivers seat, ¡°I will keep this story if people ask me where I came from.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    Vomi settled into the driver¡¯s seat of the freshly painted Colby, her hand resting lightly on the steering wheel as the engine hummed to life beneath her. She let out a small sigh, feeling the tension of the last few days slowly release from her shoulders.

    "San Francisco might be boring, but at least it''s a place to catch my breath," she muttered, her gaze flicking to the neon-lit streets in front of her.

    The symbiote''s voice chimed in. "For now, at least. But I sense that the peace won¡¯t last long. Too many variables at play.¡±

    Vomi grinned slightly, her eyes reflecting the neon glow. "Always the pessimist, huh?"

    "Realist," the symbiote corrected. "I just don''t want us getting caught off guard."

    She chuckled, tapping the screen of her agent to pull up the SFPD''s gig listings. The interface flickered for a moment before populating with a long list of requests¡ªgang cleanups, smuggling busts, missing persons. It was clear the city''s law enforcement was stretched thin, which meant plenty of opportunities for mercs like her.

    Her eyes scanned over the listings until one caught her attention: a high-paying gig to track down a missing corporate exec. The payout was generous, but the risk was equally high¡ªgetting tangled in corpo affairs always came with strings attached. Still, eddies were eddies.

    "Looks like we¡¯ve got our next move," she said, locking the details into her agent.

    "And what might that be?" the symbiote asked, a tinge of curiosity in its voice.

    "Some corpo suit went missing. SFPD wants someone to track him down. Could lead to more than a few eurodollars in our pocket," Vomi explained, pulling the Colby out of the parking spot and onto the main road.

    The symbiote remained silent for a moment, before replying, "You sure this won¡¯t lead us into more trouble than it¡¯s worth?"

    Vomi smirked, shifting gears as the city lights blurred by. "It always does.¡±

    They cruised through the streets, the familiar mix of grime and neon painting the landscape around them. Despite the chaotic energy of the city, Vomi felt a strange sense of calm. She had a plan, she had her chrome, and she had the Colby purring beneath her. Not to mention the symbiote.

    ¡°By the way, I know the name was Project Klyntar, but do you have a name?¡±, Vomi commented as she saw a notification on the SFPD screen.

    The symbiote seemed deep in thought, something that was easy to catch since they shared the same brain. They couldn''t read each other''s thoughts, but they can feel the emotions, or something similar to it.

    The symbiote¡¯s presence pulsed quietly, contemplative. Vomi could feel it shifting within her, like it was mulling over her question. Finally, it spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never needed one before,¡± it admitted. ¡°Names were for... individuals. I was just a part of something bigger.¡±

    Vomi nodded, her eyes still on the road. ¡°Yeah, well, you¡¯re your own thing now. We¡¯re a team, remember? Feels right for you to have a name.¡±

    The symbiote considered her words. ¡°I suppose¡­ If I were to choose, it should reflect both of us, something that resonates with what we¡¯ve become together.¡±

    She grinned. ¡°Getting all poetic on me now?¡±

    ¡°I learn quickly,¡± it replied, a faint hint of amusement in its tone. ¡°What would you suggest?¡±

    Vomi bit her lip, thinking. ¡°Hmm, something strong. Something that says you don¡¯t back down, no matter what. ¡®Venom¡¯ would¡¯ve been too obvious. But we¡¯re not just toxic¡ªwe¡¯re... adaptive.¡±

    The symbiote hummed in agreement. ¡°I like the sound of that. Something that evolves.¡±

    ¡°How about... Vanguard?¡± Vomi suggested, glancing down at her hands, watching the tendrils slightly ripple beneath her skin. ¡°It means leading the way, adapting to whatever comes at you.¡±

    There was a pause, a quiet connection forming between them as the symbiote mulled over the name. Then, a soft pulse of approval.

    ¡°Vanguard,¡± it echoed. ¡°I can work with that.¡±

    His voice was way softer than before. Like the identity he was given lifted a big weight out of his metaphorical shoulders.

    Vomi smiled, her fingers tapping the wheel. ¡°Alright, Vanguard it is. Welcome to the world.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s presence seemed to settle within her, a newfound sense of identity shaping their bond. For the first time, it felt more like a partnership than a parasitic relationship. They were moving forward, sorta off.

    The notification popped up again, ¡°I guess we will need to make a quick stop, choom.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She inspected the file that just got updated on the platform, a shootout literally just a few blocks away, ¡°We can help some cops nearby us. Make some honest cash.¡±

    ¡°Elaborate.¡±, Vanguard spoke with interest, the symbiote tendrils finally retracting beneath Vomi''s skin.

    <hr>

    Jacob Fry

    To be honest, the job in the police force sucks. Jacob could say that first hand, as his second fucking day in the law was enough to get him into a shootout. It was supposed to be a normal pull over drill, check the car and ID the driver, but apparently he was carrying chemo and wasn''t really in the mood to talk either. The guy wasn''t a Borg, but could be considered to be one. Because who the hell, in their common sense, has both arms to shoot .50 Cals??? The police patrol wasn''t equipped to have this kind of defense against that and MaxTac would take hours to arrive here, so his only way to survive was to call back up in the HustleNet.

    A contract with a few thousand of Eddies should attract someone to face this psycho, right?

    Right?

    Jacob Fry crouched behind his cruiser, trying to catch his breath as more rounds from the .50 cal ricocheted off the street, sending chunks of asphalt flying. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the noise of the city. The air was thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder and burnt rubber. This was supposed to be a routine stop, maybe a ticket at worst, but instead, he was caught in a firefight with some kind of chromed-out psychopath. His partner was already down, bleeding out in the driver¡¯s seat.

    Damn it. This isn¡¯t what I signed up for.

    He peeked around the cruiser, catching a glimpse of the shooter. The guy was a monster¡ªchrome arms and an ugly sneer as he unloaded round after round with those damn twin .50 cals. The nomad had taken cover behind his car, using the heavy vehicle like a bunker. Jacob¡¯s service revolver felt like a water gun in comparison.

    Where the hell is backup?

    His only hope was that someone picked up the HustleNet contract he sent out. Maybe a merc, maybe some cybered-up solo with enough firepower to match this psycho. It was a long shot, but in this city, it was his only shot.

    Another barrage hit the side of the cruiser, shattering what was left of the windows. Jacob ducked low again, feeling his heart rate spike. He¡¯d already called for MaxTac, but they weren¡¯t coming anytime soon.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna die out here,¡± he muttered to himself, trying to calm the rising panic. His hands were shaking, adrenaline pumping through his veins in a way he¡¯d never felt before. He wasn¡¯t cut out for this¡ªhe didn¡¯t have the experience, the chrome, or the nerve.

    And then, out of nowhere, the roar of an engine filled the street.

    Jacob looked up just in time to see a sleek, matte-black Colby come barreling down the road, skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust and exhaust. The car was imposing, a beast on wheels, and as the door opened, a woman in a white coat stepped out¡ªlooking completely unfazed by the chaos around her.

    The woman casually adjusted her glasses, her eyes glowing faintly red with cyberware, scanning the scene with disinterest. She wasn¡¯t wearing much armor, just a sleek outfit under that coat, but Jacob had seen enough solos to recognize the real danger wasn¡¯t in the gear¡ªit was in the attitude.

    A merc, definitely.

    ¡°Who the hell¡­?¡± Jacob muttered, pushing himself back up against the cruiser.

    Whoever she was, she ignored the officer as she pointed a Nue against the maniac.

    A Nue? A simple pistol?

    That was enough to make Jacob question if this wasn''t just another psycho.

    Jacob¡¯s heart pounded as he watched Vomi raise the Nue, the sleek pistol glinting in the dim light of the city. His first instinct was disbelief¡ªa pistol against a guy with twin .50 cal arms? He almost wanted to yell at her to take cover or call for more backup, but something in her expression, the calm confidence she exuded, made him hesitate.

    She wasn¡¯t just another psycho. She was something else.

    The nomad spotted her immediately, his chromed-out face twisting into a sneer. ¡°You think a peashooter like that¡¯s gonna do anything, chica?¡± he growled, lifting one of his massive, cybernetic arms, the barrel of his weapon gleaming in the streetlight.

    Vomi didn¡¯t respond. She just moved.

    In a blur of motion, faster than Jacob¡¯s eyes could follow, she darted to the side, evading the first round of gunfire with almost inhuman grace. The nomad¡¯s bullets tore into the pavement where she had stood moments ago, sending chunks of concrete flying.

    Then, with a series of quick, precise movements, Vomi returned fire. The Nue barked, three rounds shot in rapid succession. Each bullet found its mark¡ªweak points in the nomad¡¯s cyberware that Jacob hadn¡¯t even noticed. Sparks flew as the rounds hit, forcing the nomad back, his left arm seizing up from the damage.

    She was definitely a Sandy user. No way someone without it could move like that without one.

    ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± the nomad snarled, clearly not expecting someone with a simple pistol to be this much of a threat.

    But Vomi wasn¡¯t done.

    She got close again, a blip in their vision as the white coat was the only thing they could register, a punch that had way more force than it had any right to have connected to the nomad''s face, the whiplash actually sending the guy back enough he took a few steps back. The Nue was again aimed at him, shooting even more weak point, but the nomad probably has subdermal armor, because that didn''t stop the gonk to pull the .50 cal and shoot where she stood.

    Whatever Sandy she has, saved her ass from getting flatlined, because the ground again was destroyed.

    Jacob could barely keep up with the chaos unfolding in front of him. The nomad, despite taking several hits, was still on his feet, and his subdermal armor was doing its job, absorbing most of the damage. But Vomi wasn¡¯t backing down. She moved like a ghost, vanishing from one spot and reappearing in another, evading the heavy fire from the nomad¡¯s .50 cal with ease.

    ¡°She¡¯s definitely running some high-end chrome,¡± Jacob muttered to himself. A Sandy¡ªno doubt. He¡¯d seen netrunners with reflex boosters, but this was something else. Her movements were almost¡­ unnatural.

    The ground exploded where Vomi had stood just seconds ago, chunks of asphalt flying into the air as the nomad¡¯s weapon roared. The shockwave made Jacob¡¯s ears ring, but when the dust settled, she was already gone¡ªappearing on the nomad¡¯s flank with a speed that defied logic.

    Vomi¡¯s eyes flashed red again as she holstered the Nue, her stance shifting. This time, she didn¡¯t need bullets. She rushed in close, her body low and fast, and Jacob barely registered the movement before she connected with the nomad again¡ªa palm strike aimed at his ribcage, right between the gaps in his armor.

    The nomad grunted, the wind knocked out of him, but Vomi didn¡¯t stop. She followed up with a brutal kick to his knee, sending him off balance. The symbiote flickered into existence for a brief second, enhancing her movements, giving her blows more force than a normal human could muster.

    The nomad stumbled, his massive arms flailing as he tried to regain his footing, but Vomi was already behind him. A blur of white coat and dark tendrils, she struck again, this time targeting the back of his neck¡ªanother weak point in his cyberware. The impact sent a cascade of sparks shooting out as the nomad¡¯s systems glitched.

    "Flatline this bitch!" he roared, wildly swinging his arm around, but Vomi was already gone, ducking under the blow and sidestepping out of reach.

    Jacob couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. The nomad was twice her size, loaded with top-tier chrome, and yet Vomi was dismantling him like a damn machine.

    ¡°She¡¯s not just a merc,¡± Jacob muttered under his breath, gripping his pistol tighter. ¡°She¡¯s something else.¡±

    The nomad, now disoriented and on the verge of collapsing, let out a furious growl and pulled the trigger on his remaining arm. The .50 cal barked, the recoil shaking his entire body as another deafening round was fired.

    But Vomi was already in motion. She slid to the side, the bullet missing her by inches, and before the nomad could react, she closed the distance one final time.

    Her hand lashed out, fingers extended in a precise strike. The symbiote surged forward with her, reinforcing her arm as it drove into the exposed circuitry at the back of the nomad¡¯s neck. With a flick of her wrist, she severed a key connection.

    The nomad froze, his body locking up as his systems overloaded. The glow in his cybernetic eyes flickered and died.

    He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his massive frame hitting the pavement like a falling building.

    Vomi straightened, her expression as calm and composed as ever, despite the chaos she¡¯d just endured. She glanced down at the nomad¡¯s unconscious form and holstered the Nue again, her fingers brushing against her coat as the tendrils retracted back into her skin.

    Jacob just stood there, staring at the wreckage of the nomad, his heart pounding in his chest. ¡°What the hell are you?¡± he finally asked, his voice hoarse.

    ¡°Just another merc trying to get paid, choom.¡±, Vomi didn¡¯t look at him as she replied, ¡°Oh look! Free Eddie shards!¡±

    She said as she collected the shard, transferring the EuroDollars to her account.

    The complete contrast of her previous professional persona. She was almost like a kid now.

    ¡°You good?¡±, She asked as she finally looked at him.

    ¡°I ain''t dead.¡±, He quipped, ¡°That''s a start.¡±

    ¡°Nova.¡±, The woman nodded with a smile, ¡°What about the eddies tho?¡±

    Jacob blinked, ¡°Oh, yeah. The PD will pay after I confirm the contract. MaxTac should take care of the rest.¡±

    ¡°Then I''m off.¡±, She said, going back to her Colby.

    ¡°W-wait!¡±, He called, ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ thanks. The PD could use someone like you in the ranks.¡±

    She seemed to consider it before readjusting her glasses, ¡°Nope. I''m better off as a solo.¡±

    ¡°Worth trying.¡±

    Jacob watched as Vomi casually got back into her Colby, the door closing with a solid thunk. Her laid-back attitude, after just dismantling a fully chromed-out nomad, was jarring. The whole situation still didn¡¯t feel real. The way she switched between being a deadly merc and, well, someone who saw everything as a joke left him more than a little unsettled.

    He jogged up to the car window as she started the engine. ¡°Hey, before you go,¡± Jacob said, still catching his breath. ¡°That black thing¡­ whatever you did back there. You saved my life.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, her hand still on the steering wheel. ¡°You mean the monowire? Don¡¯t sweat it. Just another day, another Eddie.¡±

    Jacob nodded slowly, trying to process that. ¡°Still, you could¡¯ve let me get flatlined, but you didn¡¯t.¡±

    Vomi shrugged, her smile returning. ¡°True. But where¡¯s the fun in that?¡±

    The cop let out a short laugh, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°You should leave. Let me handle the bureaucracy.¡±

    Vomi smirked, then revved the engine. ¡°See you around, choom. Maybe don¡¯t get into another shootout so soon, yeah?¡±

    With that, she peeled out, the Colby roaring as it sped down the street, leaving Jacob standing in the glow of the city¡¯s neon lights.

    As the sound of her car faded into the distance, Jacob let out a long breath. He reached for his radio, calling in to HQ.

    ¡°Yeah, this is Officer Fry. Incident contained. The nomad¡¯s down, and¡­ well, let¡¯s just say we had some help.¡±

    He glanced in the direction Vomi had driven off, shaking his head. ¡°Better send a cleanup crew. And tell MaxTac to stand down¡ªthey missed all the fun.¡±

    <hr>

    Inside the Colby, Vomi glanced at the Eurodollars in her account. Not bad for a quick job. ¡°What do you think, Vanguard? Easy eddies?¡±

    The symbiote¡¯s voice hummed within her mind. ¡°Simple, but effective. Though the human''s gratitude was¡­ amusing.¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°Yeah, well, cops like him don¡¯t last long in cities like this unless they get a little help.¡±

    ¡°And yet, you refuse to join them.¡±

    Vomi grinned, her eyes catching the neon reflection in the rearview mirror. ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m not really the authority type.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed softly in her mind. ¡°We make our own rules, then.¡±

    ¡°Damn right we do,¡± Vomi replied, the grin never leaving her face as the Colby sped into the night.

 Chapter 6: Investigations and Surprises.

    The Black Colby cruised through the streets of San Francisco. Vomi passed by Oceanview and couldn''t help but feel a pang of nostalgia, though the city wasn¡¯t quite how she remembered. Sure, this was Cyberpunk San Francisco, but something about the greenish fog clinging to the air gave everything an eerie vibe. If you didn¡¯t pay close attention, you wouldn¡¯t even notice it. Vanguard had already scanned for hazards and cleared it, so no need to worry.

    LA¡¯s air quality was way worse, so this was nothing new.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be at the last known location of the corpo soon,¡± Vomi said, making a sharp turn.

    ¡°Who is this person again?¡± Vanguard asked, still piecing together details from the earlier chaos.

    ¡°Some analytics suit,¡± she replied, tapping through her Agent as she scrolled the HuscleNet for more details. ¡°Works for M-Tech, higher up on the chain, but not so important that his disappearance sets off alarms. So either rescue or just an investigation.¡±

    ¡°His role isn¡¯t described clearly,¡± Vanguard noted, catching glimpses of the vague job description.

    Vomi scoffed. ¡°Of course not. Corps never give out the full picture. They keep everything in the dark.¡±

    ¡°As they should, I suppose,¡± Vanguard agreed. ¡°But we¡¯re usually the ones digging for that info, aren''t we?¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Yeah, well, knowing too much about corps comes with its own set of nightmares. There¡¯s a lot I wish I could unsee, but¡­ I guess we¡¯re in too deep now.¡±

    ¡°Affirm,¡± Vanguard echoed.

    The Colby finally pulled up to the designated location, and Vomi let out a low chuckle as she took in the scene. If she were a corpo on a rare day off, where would she hide out? Granted that past Vomi was already a corpo, but she was female. What about makes though?The place looked exactly like the kind of upscale, corporate-safe zone she would¡¯ve avoided back in the day: posh, quiet, and boring as hell.

    However it was still a BD Bar.

    "Looks like someone''s been living the cushy life,¡± she muttered under her breath.

    Vanguard sensed her amusement. ¡°Perhaps. But cushy or not, we have a job to do.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Vomi sighed, stepping out of the car. She straightened her white coat and adjusted her glasses, giving the area another quick scan. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what this corpo¡¯s been up to.¡±

    She took only five or so steps before the bouncer put a hand in her way. He had a suit, probably way more expensive than his salary, but Vomi wasn''t really interested in judging the poor guy.

    ¡°The place is full.¡±, He said in a grumpy tone, ¡°And you don''t look apart.¡±

    ¡°I think clothes are the least of anyone''s problems.¡±, She said as she shared the gig file of her gig.

    The bouncer raised an eyebrow at the sudden request to accept the file, but his eyes went blue, so that means he is at least inspecting it. After a few seconds of reading, he sighed.

    ¡°I am not paid enough to deal with this.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean I''m in?¡±, Vomi asked, unsure of what the guy meant.

    ¡°No. Not now. I''ll speak with my manager. You are a Huscle, way more complicated to deal with than regular Corpos.¡±, He said as his eyes went yellow, probably making a call with his Agent.

    ¡°Corpos are easy to deal with?¡±

    ¡°Just tell what they want to hear on their day off work and you will sound like their best choom.¡±, He said offhandedly, almost unconsciously, ¡°Hey boss, there''s this Huscler here. She wants to do the job the SFPD offered.¡±

    ¡°It seems that this might be more bureaucratic than we previously thought.¡±, Vanguard whined in pain, already done with permissions.

    ¡°Take it easy. The more we deal with these kinds of gigs the more bureaucracy there will be.¡±, Vomi tried to see the positive side of this, which wasn''t that positive.

    The symbiote just groaned at that, but at least he remained quiet.

    The bouncer¡¯s eyes shifted back to Vomi, still glowing faintly from his conversation with the manager. He seemed frustrated, like he¡¯d already had enough of this day before she even showed up.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he finally said, stepping aside with a half-hearted wave. ¡°Boss says you can go in. Just¡­ don¡¯t make a scene. The suits are touchy.¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m only here for biz.¡±

    As she stepped past him, her eyes scanned the upscale interior of the place. Everything screamed corpo money¡ªfrom the polished chrome decor to the overpriced drinks and the fake smiles of the people lounging around in their designer outfits. A far cry from the dirty streets outside. The bouncer wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªthese people were easy to deal with. They lived in their own bubble, isolated from the chaos that brewed in the rest of the city.

    Oh yeah, and the occasional JoyToy working in some private booths.

    Vomi purposely ignored that.

    Some people threw glances at her, but they mostly ignored. It''s not like anyone was abiding by attire etiquette here, everyone just wanted to get wasted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand these people,¡± Vanguard muttered in her head, sounding as annoyed as she felt.

    ¡°Neither do I, but that¡¯s what makes it easy,¡± Vomi replied, her voice low as she moved deeper into the lounge. ¡°They think their money can shield them from everything. Makes them soft. Predictable.¡±

    An occurrence far too common, even in the real world. It''s amazing how pieces of paper with numbers made some people think they are invincible.

    She navigated through the crowd, eyeing the suits with their synthetic cocktails and fake laughs, making her way toward the back rooms. She spotted the door where the analytics guy was supposedly last seen, a section cordoned off from the rest of the patrons. An office. Or rather, a fool room for¡­ purposes.

    Yes, purposes.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve found the place,¡± she whispered to Vanguard. The symbiote stirred slightly, sensing the subtle tension in the air.

    As she approached the door, her cyberware pulsed faintly, scanning for any hidden surprises. Nothing major¡ªjust a few low-level security protocols. Vomi grinned, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as she bypassed the lock with ease. Amazing how a small chord can basically be your lockpick in these situations.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what the corpo¡¯s been hiding.¡± She pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room.

    It was empty¡ªtoo empty.

    A single desk sat in the middle of the room, a data shard glinting on its surface under the flickering fluorescent lights. No sign of the corpo, but this wasn¡¯t a coincidence.

    "Trap?¡± Vanguard asked.

    Vomi¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°I don''t think so.¡±

    She stepped forward, grabbing the shard and slotting it into her system. As soon as the data started flowing, her eyes widened in realization.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a rescue mission,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°This guy''s knee-deep in something big.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s heart raced as the data streamed across her optics. ¡°Projects, cyberware, searches and missing personnel.¡±, She closed the files for now, pocketing the shard, ¡°I will need to look at this later.¡±

    The room was empty, yes, but why was it? There needed to be something else here, but before she could do anything, the manager showed up in the room.

    ¡°You shouldn''t be here.¡±, She said, annoyed and angrily.

    ¡°I need to investigate.¡±, Vomi replied back, still looking for any clues, ¡°If I needed to hack a door to get to my objective, so be it.¡±

    ¡°That''s not what I meant¡­¡±, She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, ¡°But fine. The suits are getting uncomfortable with your presence. Just do what you need to do and leave. Don''t want to lose my eddies ¡®cause a gonk like you showed up in my biz.¡±

    ¡°Relax.¡±, She said, finally finding something, ¡°I am already done.¡±

    She pocketed the thing and promptly left the BD Bar. Let them fake their orgasms with their wreaths or let the JoyToy¡¯s make whatever they want to their brain.

    BDs are so weird.

    She entered the Colby and opened the laptop she found before, ¡°The room was cleaned up before we went there.¡±

    ¡°I noticed that too. They want to cover up the disappearance of our target.¡±

    ¡°However,¡± She grinned as she connected her personal chord to the laptop, ¡°They forgot this thing here.¡±

    It was locked of course. And for the first time, it was an actual competent firewall. Corpo software tends to be good, after all.

    Vomi smirked as the connection to the laptop''s firewall lit up across her optics. The firewall was dense, layers of corporate encryption winding like a labyrinth. M-Tech didn¡¯t skimp on security, and she could feel the weight of their efforts in each block of code trying to stop her.

    "Alright, past Vomi. Please have the skills so my brain doesn''t get fried," she muttered under her breath, fingers gliding over her keyboard interface.

    First layer: a standard brute force deterrent, designed to lock out anyone without high-level access codes. The algorithm was complex, but Vomi¡¯s system automatically began cycling through potential solutions, filtering out dead ends faster than human reflexes could keep up.

    She triggered a worm, sending it wriggling through the maze of numbers. It darted between encryption nodes, searching for weaknesses. A pulse of green light in her optics¡ªgot one. A soft click sounded in her ears, signaling that the brute force barrier was down.

    "One down," she muttered, more focused now.

    Vanguard stirred slightly, sensing the activity. "Impressive firewall for a laptop left behind."

    "Means there¡¯s something good on here," Vomi said, her tone eager.

    The second layer wasn¡¯t so straightforward. M-Tech had set up a series of randomized decoy nodes, meant to trick the attacker into thinking they¡¯d found the main system when, in reality, it would just be a feedback loop leading to a shutdown. One wrong move here, and she¡¯d lose access entirely.

    Vomi smirked as she activated her decryption programs. "Nice try, corpos."

    She carefully scanned each node, her HUD lighting up potential paths. One of the nodes flashed a different shade, almost imperceptibly slower than the others. She quickly flagged it as a decoy and moved past, selecting the correct one and unlocking the next layer.

    Behind the second wall was the real prize: the central data core. But it was guarded by something more lethal¡ªICE. A lethal program that could fry a netrunner¡¯s brain if triggered. M-Tech wasn''t playing games.

    "Let me take care of this," Vanguard suggested, sensing the risk.

    "No need, I¡¯ve got this." Vomi¡¯s grin widened. She coded a quick counter-ICE program, a sleek black sphere that slid into the system like a predator stalking its prey. The ICE flared, recognizing the intrusion, but her program moved faster. Within seconds, it had disabled the security measure, dissolving it into harmless fragments.

    "Clear," she said triumphantly, removing her chord.

    Vomi¡¯s interface buzzed softly as the final layers peeled away. The data core was now open to her, all its precious contents laid bare. She immediately began downloading files, watching as encrypted folders filled her screen. Personnel files, project names, locations, and something else¡ªa name she hadn¡¯t seen yet.

    Project Ouroboros.

    ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Vanguard muttered in her mind.

    ¡°No idea.¡±, She said, exploring the files, this time with no resistance as the software thought it was the owner looking over, ¡°Looks like parts? Yeah, definitely parts.¡±

    ¡°Parts of what?¡±

    She squinted her eyes, as if that would help her see better, ¡°Cyberware, maybe. But I can see this is just a part of the full design.¡±

    ¡°My creator''s knowledge is providing necessary insight.¡±, Vanguard hummed deeply, ¡°What exactly are we talking about?¡±

    ¡°Hard to say. Can be a Keren, a Sandy, a Cyberdeck¡­ All I can see here is nervous system replacements, so there are a lot of candidates.¡±, She said, closing the laptop for now.

    ¡°What do we do?¡±

    Indeed. What could they do? They don''t have clues about where he could''ve gone next and asking questions on the BD Bar would cause trouble, too much trouble to do this cleanly.

    Vomi leaned back in her seat, staring at the flickering lights of the BD Bar through the windshield. She started driving away, the familiar hum of the Colby¡¯s engine seemed distant as she mulled over the options. They didn¡¯t have much to go on¡ªjust a few scattered files and an incomplete puzzle named Project Ouroboros.

    Her fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically as Vanguard''s presence shifted within her. His hum of curiosity echoed through her mind. ¡°We¡¯re at a dead end. Can''t exactly walk into M-Tech¡¯s HQ and start asking questions.¡±

    Vomi rubbed her temple. ¡°No, that''d get us flatlined in minutes. But... there''s another way.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a plan?¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Sort of.¡± She reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a small set of parts, ¡°We need to hack into M-Tech¡¯s private network, deeper than the surface stuff we just skimmed.¡±

    ¡°M-Tech''s private network? That''s suicide. Just imagine their ICE programs.¡± Vanguard seemed apprehensive, though his tone was more intrigued than afraid.

    ¡°I never said I''d go there and jack into their systems. I like my brain where it is, thank you very much.¡±, She rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Then, what exactly do you plan?¡±

    ¡°Crafting our own laptop. I can code with my chord, but a laptop is way safer than a tablet. Besides I can put any quick hacks there, although they will work only with the connected server.¡±, She explained, already thinking how to exactly code the necessary hacks.

    ¡°That means we need to buy the necessary components.¡±, He pulsed a nod.

    ¡°Correct, Vang.¡±

    ¡°Vang?¡±

    ¡°A cute nickname. Why?¡±

    ¡°...Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    <hr>

    Thanks to the previous work she had done, she had the necessary eddies to start building up a laptop from the ground up. It wasn''t the best components, but she could build something solid enough to tank a minor corporation ICE. If it was to be put in 2077 terms, it was mainly built with green and blue components, but some people might digress. So all she needed was to code the software, firewall, ICE, quick hacks and¡­

    Okay, yeah, it was a lot of stuff.

    She was eating an XXL Burrito as she coded with her second hand, this time sitting on the passenger seat of the Colby, trying to multitask, but it was clear this gig wasn''t going to be done today.

    ¡°I feel sleepy.¡±, Vomi commented, her mouth letting a few leftovers of the burrito fall on her lap, ¡°Even though we don''t need to sleep.¡±

    ¡°You are coding for the past three hours.¡±, Vanguard deadpanned, ¡°Not even us can deal with this much mental strain.¡±

    ¡°But I wanna finish this¡­¡±, She whined, momentarily stopping to type in her laptop.

    Vomi sighed, pushing the half-eaten burrito aside and staring at the lines of code cascading down her laptop screen. Her mind buzzed from the hours of constant work, but Vanguard was right¡ªshe needed a break, no matter how much she wanted to push through.

    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± she muttered, reclining in the Colby¡¯s seat and closing her eyes. The hum of the car''s engine was oddly soothing, vibrating through her body as the tension in her neck eased a little.

    ¡°You know,¡± Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed softly in her mind, ¡°this isn¡¯t a race. We can afford to slow down.¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°You say that, but I feel like we''re always one step from being flatlined.¡± She stretched her legs, her fingers tingling from hours of typing. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right, though. Can¡¯t do anything if I burn out before the job¡¯s even halfway done.¡±

    ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve analyzed the code you¡¯re working on,¡± Vanguard offered. ¡°There are a few improvements we can make once you¡¯re rested.¡±

    ¡°Improvements, huh?¡± Vomi grinned. ¡°What would I do without you?¡±

    ¡°Probably make more mistakes,¡± Vanguard said dryly.

    She laughed, a genuine one this time, and let herself sink deeper into the seat. The symbiote had a point, even if it was annoyingly right most of the time.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll sleep for a few hours,¡± Vomi said, closing the laptop and setting it aside. ¡°But if any corpos come knocking, you better wake me up.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯d rather not deal with them alone.¡±

    As her consciousness started to drift, Vomi felt the familiar presence of Vanguard shifting within her, like a comforting pulse that kept her grounded. In a strange way, it was easier to rest now that they were bonded. She didn¡¯t have to face everything alone anymore, and that was something she hadn¡¯t realized she needed.

    <hr>

    Vomi woke up and stretched a bit, realizing her glasses weren''t in her face, but quickly finding them afterwards. The sun made the interior of the black Colby a microwave, but that was hardly the problem now. She opened the windows and turned up the AC, the engine roaring a bit to get all the necessary stuff working. Then, she put the radio to work, this time some Japan-Pop songs making themselves known. She nodded at the song, checking her laptop and the half written code before driving to, hopefully a wash house.

    After all, it''s been weeks since a shower.

    She drove quietly for about seven minutes before noticing something absent.

    ¡°Vanguard?¡±, She asked, looking at her hands.

    ¡°That''s me.¡±, A voice said.

    Although not in her head.

    She checked the passenger seat.

    There was a black cat with red eyes there.

    ¡°Vang?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    She pushed the brakes so hard that the car''s momentum shot front and back for a while.

    ¡°The fuck?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s heart raced as she processed what she was seeing. The black cat stared at her with those eerie red eyes, calm and unfazed by the sudden stop.

    ¡°Okay, either I¡¯m still dreaming, or I just had a serious breakdown,¡± she muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. ¡°Vanguard, is this some kind of joke?¡±

    ¡°Not a joke. This is me,¡± the cat replied, its voice smooth and nonchalant.

    ¡°Is it now?¡± Vomi shot back, still bewildered. ¡°You look like a goddamn house cat! Where did you even come from?¡±

    ¡°I manifested,¡± Vanguard said simply, twitching his tail. ¡°We¡¯ve been connected for a while now, and I figured a new form might be useful. Plus, I think it suits me.¡±

    ¡°Suit you?¡± Vomi gaped, glancing back at the road. ¡°This is insane! I need you as a symbiote, not as a furry distraction! What¡¯s next, you¡¯ll start purring?¡±

    ¡°Very funny,¡± the cat replied, a flicker of amusement in its tone. ¡°But you know what they say about appearances. This form can allow me to blend in better if we need to be discreet.¡±

    Vomi ran a hand through her hair, feeling the weight of the situation. ¡°So you¡¯re saying we¡¯re rolling around in a corporate hellscape, and I¡¯m supposed to feel safe with a cat? No offense, but I preferred you in your original form.¡±

    ¡°Give it time,¡± Vanguard replied, his voice calm and reassuring. ¡°I¡¯m still the same entity. Just¡­ a different appearance.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± She took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear the fog of confusion. ¡°Let¡¯s just get to the wash house before I start questioning my sanity again.¡±

    She pressed the gas pedal and pulled back onto the road, but a nagging thought lingered in her mind. How could Vanguard change forms like this? It felt like something new¡ªand not entirely comforting.

    As they drove, Vomi glanced at the cat occasionally, half-expecting it to start batting at the dashboard or making some ridiculous request like a cat might. But Vanguard remained still, his red eyes focused on her, observing her every move. It was unsettling.

    ¡°Uh, can you still access our systems and all that techy stuff from there?¡± she asked, trying to wrap her head around this new dynamic.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± he replied. ¡°And I can still help you with your coding and hacks. The only thing that changes is my appearance. I¡¯ll be your partner, just in a different package.¡±

    ¡°Great. Just what I wanted¡ªmy symbiote in a fur coat,¡± Vomi muttered sarcastically.

    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± he said with a hint of playfulness.

    Vomi sighed, her initial shock giving way to acceptance. If this was how it was going to be, she¡¯d roll with it. After all, the streets of San Francisco were still filled with danger, and she could use all the help she could get.

    As she neared the wash house, Vomi glanced at her laptop, the half-finished code staring back at her. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s make a plan. I need to get cleaned up, then we¡¯ll dive into Project Ouroboros. With the right approach, we might just figure out what M-Tech is hiding.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± Vanguard purred, jumping and landing on Vomi''s shoulder much like a cat would. Graceful and perfectly balanced.

    He was surprisingly light weighted.

    ¡°...Are you going with me?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°Just try not to scare anyone, okay?¡± Vomi said, smirking as she parked the Colby and hopped out.

    ==========

    Vomi entered the bath house, the owner, a senior woman, glanced over with her chrome neck. Apparently an operation gone wrong and all. She saw the cat in her shoulder, purring in her ear and the lady clearly uncomfortable with it. But otherwise, she didn''t question, not even stopped them both from entering the bath. The woman paid after all, and the cat was cute. It is hard to see cats nowadays.

    Any domestic animals, actually.

    Vomi undressed, still utterly awkward and weirded out. Again, a man on a woman''s body did that, even more when said woman was jacked as hell. Muscular, but still attractive to the eyes of anyone. The man inside his head tried his hardest to ignore that and just relax in the bath, the hot water enveloping her body, releasing stress that they didn''t know was there.

    As for Vanguard, he just jumped on the water, his red eyes popping out once in a while.

    Just like a cat.

    ¡­Yeeeeaaahhh, that''s weird.

    Vomi sank deeper into the hot water, letting the steam wrap around her like a comforting blanket. The heat was soothing, melting away the tension that had built up over the past few days. She watched as Vanguard playfully splashed around, the way his red eyes emerged just above the surface was equal parts amusing and surreal.

    ¡°You really are taking this whole ¡®cat¡¯ thing seriously, huh?¡± Vomi chuckled, trying to distract herself from the awkwardness of the situation. ¡°You could¡¯ve chosen any form¡ªwhy this?¡±

    ¡°I thought it¡¯d be fun,¡± Vanguard replied, paddling lazily. ¡°And it¡¯s less threatening. You know how people react to solos. A cute cat? Much easier to approach.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m still not sure how I feel about having a cat in the bath with me.¡± She couldn¡¯t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. ¡°What¡¯s next? A litter box?¡±

    ¡°Not unless you want one,¡± he teased, doing a little roll in the water. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not just a regular cat. I¡¯m your partner, remember?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± She leaned back against the side of the tub, closing her eyes for a moment. ¡°Just don¡¯t start curling up on my pillow at night.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a thought,¡± he said, his tone light and playful. ¡°But really, you should relax. You¡¯ve been running on adrenaline for too long. Let me take care of the lookout for a bit.¡±

    Vomi sighed, the warmth of the water and Vanguard¡¯s calm demeanor easing her racing thoughts. ¡°You¡¯re right. I just feel so¡­ on edge all the time. This whole gig is starting to weigh on me.¡±

    ¡°Breathe, Vomi,¡± Vanguard encouraged. ¡°You¡¯re not alone in this. We¡¯ll figure it out together. Just focus on the task ahead after you¡¯re done here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the task¡­¡± She opened her eyes and glanced at the laptop she had left on a bench nearby. The remnants of her work loomed large in her mind. ¡°Project Ouroboros. What do you think it¡¯s about?¡±

    ¡°From what I gathered, it seems like some kind of advanced cyberware project,¡± Vanguard replied, swimming back to her shoulder, his wet fur leaving tiny droplets on her. ¡°But the fact that it¡¯s hidden and encrypted means it¡¯s probably something they want to keep under wraps. Dangerous tech, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Dangerous how?¡± Vomi raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also wary of the implications. ¡°They already have enough tech that can turn people into walking weapons.¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± Vanguard said, his tone shifting slightly more serious. ¡°But what if it¡¯s something beyond just weapons? Something that enhances or manipulates human capabilities in a way that¡¯s never been done before?¡±

    ¡°Like mind control?¡± she suggested, her stomach knotting at the thought.

    ¡°Exactly. Or something that could make a person more susceptible to commands. The potential for exploitation is massive,¡± he added, his voice low.

    Vomi¡¯s brow furrowed as she considered the implications. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, we need to be extra careful. We can¡¯t just barge into their network without knowing what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. We¡¯ll approach it methodically,¡± Vanguard assured her, sensing her unease. ¡°After you¡¯re finished here, let¡¯s strategize. We can leverage my abilities to assist with any hacking.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Vomi said, feeling a renewed sense of focus. ¡°But first, I need to wash off the grime and actually feel like a person again.¡±

    With that, she leaned back, allowing the warm water to envelop her. For a moment, the world faded away, and all that mattered was the steam, the warmth, and the gentle purring of the black cat perched on her shoulder.

    ¡°Wait¡­ are you actually purring in my ears?¡±

    Vanguard paused, the playful light in his red eyes flickering with mischief. ¡°Maybe. It helps with the ambiance, doesn¡¯t it? Besides, you¡¯re a lot more relaxed when I¡¯m purring.¡±

    Vomi rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smile. ¡°You¡¯re ridiculous. You know that, right?¡±

    ¡°Bitch, I am adorable,¡± he replied with a flick of his tail, sending a few droplets of water flying. ¡°And let¡¯s be real, you could use a little ridiculous in your life right now.¡±

    ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± She chuckled, sinking deeper into the bath. The warmth seeped into her muscles, easing away the tension that had built up from days of stress and danger.

    <hr>

    After the bath, Vanguard refused to not be near Vomi in some part a cat would normally be. And for some reason he chose to stay in her head the entire time. She went to a local food stand and ordered some kebabs that tried really hard to be like meat, but still tasted good, as she worked on finishing the software of her laptop. It looked clean, even more now with the insights of her trustworthy cat, of all things. Quick hacks were simple, not too offensive to be harder to detect and didn''t cost too much RAM. All in all, a perfect starting tool.

    ¡°Aaaaaand, done.¡±, She said, finally running the protocols, no bugs in sight.

    ¡°Congratulations.¡±, The cat said as his tail flickered in Vomi''s face, ¡°Now we can work on M-Tech¡¯s servers.¡±

    ¡°We just need to connect to them, that''s the problem.¡±

    ¡°Right, and we need to be smart about it,¡± Vanguard replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. ¡°M-Tech won¡¯t take kindly to unauthorized access. Their security protocols are top-notch, and they have a reputation for being ruthless.¡±

    ¡°Ruthless is putting it lightly. But we¡¯ve already seen their dirty laundry, so they¡¯re not going to take any chances,¡± Vomi muttered, looking around to make sure no one was paying too much attention to her. ¡°We just need to find a way in.¡±

    ¡°First step: reconnaissance. We need to gather intel on their network and see if we can find a weak point,¡± Vanguard suggested. ¡°Maybe even figure out who¡¯s in charge of security. If we can get some dirt on them, we might have leverage.¡±

    Vomi nodded, pulling out her laptop and connecting it to a public terminal at the food stand. ¡°Good idea. Let¡¯s see what we can dig up online.¡± She opened her browser, fingers flying across the keys as she searched for anything related to M-Tech¡¯s security measures, previous hacks, or even disgruntled employees.

    ¡°Look for employee forums or any whispers about their internal systems. People love to talk, especially when they¡¯re unhappy,¡± Vanguard encouraged.

    ¡°On it.¡± As she scrolled through various forums and news articles, she noted the usual corporate jargon and vague statements about security. Nothing that seemed particularly useful, but she persisted.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said, her eyes narrowing at a thread titled ¡°M-Tech Security Breaches.¡± ¡°This could be something.¡±

    ¡°What does it say?¡± Vanguard leaned closer, his red eyes fixated on the screen.

    ¡°Apparently, there was a minor breach a few months ago. Some internal documents were leaked, but they clamped down on it fast. They¡¯ve since reinforced their security protocols, but some employees claim there are still vulnerabilities in the network, particularly in the older systems they haven¡¯t updated yet.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Old systems often have outdated security measures. If we can find a way to exploit that, we might just get what we need,¡± Vanguard said, his excitement palpable.

    ¡°Exactly. If I can identify the architecture of their network, I might be able to craft a tailored attack,¡± Vomi replied, already sketching out ideas in her mind. ¡°Let¡¯s keep digging. We need more details.¡±

    She continued to sift through the threads, spotting mentions of disgruntled employees and rumors of a recent employee evaluation gone awry. ¡°Aha! Looks like there was a restructuring recently. A few people were let go, and some of them were pretty high up. If we can find any of them, they might be willing to talk¡ª¡±

    Before she could finish her sentence, another thing caught her interest.

    Job application.

    ¡°That''s¡­ convenient.¡±, The cat said as he jumped from Vomi''s head to the table, inspecting the article, ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I think they want to replace their Analytics guy.¡±, She answered dryly, ¡°But it works for us.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Vanguard purred, his tail flicking as he scanned the screen. ¡°If they¡¯re hiring for the position, there¡¯s a chance the company is desperate to fill the gap. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Vomi said, her mind racing with possibilities. ¡°I can pose as a potential applicant and dig for information during the interview process. If I can get access to the inner workings of the team, we might uncover more about Project Ouroboros and their security weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°Clever,¡± Vanguard acknowledged, looking pleased. ¡°But you¡¯ll need to create a solid cover story. We don¡¯t want them sniffing out any fakes.¡±

    ¡°Good point.¡± Vomi pulled out her laptop again, tapping into the myriad of resources at her disposal. ¡°Let¡¯s see what kind of skills and experience they¡¯re looking for. I can build a persona around that.¡±

    As she browsed through the job listing, she jotted down key requirements: data analysis, familiarity with corporate software, experience with security protocols. It seemed manageable. ¡°Alright, I can work with this. I have enough experience to back up my application, plus a few tweaks here and there should help sell it.¡±

    ¡°Just make sure not to overreach. We need to keep it believable,¡± Vanguard reminded her, his voice smooth but firm.

    ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll keep it tight.¡± Vomi began drafting her r¨¦sum¨¦, pulling together her experiences and expertise. She included her hacking skills but framed them as a focus on cybersecurity, emphasizing her ¡®dedication to safety¡¯¡ªa perfect ruse for someone wanting to work in a corporate setting.

    Once satisfied, she opened her email and prepared to send her application. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s done. Now, I just need to find a way to connect with someone from their HR department. If I can get an interview, it¡¯ll give us a chance to probe deeper.¡±

    The symbiote cat hummed in agreement, ¡°Now what?¡±

    Vomi looked at his red eyes, Vanguard looked at her red eyes.

    There was a big surge to just let him.

    ¡°We can waste time, code something useful or¡­ do more gigs for the SFPD.¡±

    ¡°All are viable.¡±, He nodded, then licked his own paws, ¡°I believe we should lay low, but I am down for anything you want to do.¡±

    The urge to pet him grew larger. She needed to clench her fists to not do it.

    Dammit, she ended up petting him.

    ¡°You gonk, you wanted that, didn''t you?¡±, Vomi admitted defeat as she gave little scrubs to Vanguard''s back.

    He just purred.

    Heh.

    ¡°Fine. You win this round, Vang,¡± Vomi chuckled, scratching behind his ears as he settled comfortably against her shoulder.

 Chapter 7: The Worst Heist Plan

    Vanguard remained in his cat form even during the next few quick gigs, saying that Vomi might need to face her own tribulations without his assistance. The two next days were pretty normal, even with this small handicap. Thanks to the bioware she was, Vomi still had reflex, speed, strength and even a small healing factor that could make challenges less of a hassle. Some of them were tough, like the one she needed to actually fight against a local gang along with the SFPD, and be questioned about her abilities for five seconds before a second wind of gangsters chose to attack again. After that, and Vomi saving them again, they decided to let it be.

    Saved twice in a row, can''t argue with that.

    She got enough eddies that she actually paid for a room in a Megabuilding, since sleeping in the Colby was proving to also draw attention, even more when she was now stationary in the city. The room was nice¡ªit had a bed, a shower that didn''t have a door, a simple kitchen¡ªbasic stuff that she could work with as she waited for M-Tech''s response for an interview. But while she waited, she decided to make some things that will be useful later in her life, much to Vanguard''s amusement.

    One of them was to actually do programming work as a freelancer, debugging some code here, starting the design of a programm there, fixing issues with software updates. The Cyberspace, even in the shallows of it for non-Netrunners, had plenty of opportunities for those who could use the technologies of the century. Thankfully, Vomi has the skills, but she still needs experience. Breeching safety protocols and single person ICE is something, but going against another Netrunner or even adaptable software is something she is going to face, sooner or later.

    ¡°Another request for system diagnosis.¡±, She said dryly, ¡°How do these people fuck up their devices so badly?¡±

    Vanguard, who was in her lap, casually glanced over the laptop screen, ¡°I don''t know. I am a Bio Weapon, not a Deckhead.¡±

    ¡°Me neither. But I know how to not fuck up my stuff.¡±, She groaned, accepting the gig.

    ¡°At least that increases our resume value.¡±, He commented, getting comfortable again in his previous position.

    The scientist took a sip from a cup of coffee, ¡°Still, when will they actually answer?¡±

    ¡°They are investigating our past. Since when chipped not long ago, they are digging everything they can before answering.¡±, Vanguard offered, his ears flickering with the soft typing in the laptop, ¡°But I bet they won''t refuse someone who can solve a major problem in the software department.¡±

    ¡°I would need to either dive in the net, or get hired by an even less known corpo.¡±

    ¡°Details, details.¡±

    Vomi frowned, took another sip of her coffee, then turned to the system she needed to boot. A quick diagnosis and a few fixes. Nothing too hard.

    The days blurred together with a rhythm of coding gigs, fixing people''s messes, and waiting for M-Tech to finally respond. Vomi¡¯s new routine was less about survival and more about making sure she kept a low profile while sharpening her skills. The Megabuilding room was just enough to feel like she had a base of operations, though it wasn¡¯t exactly a luxury suite.

    ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining,¡± Vomi muttered as she scrolled through another client request.

    "Could be worse. Could be the Colby," Vanguard quipped, his red eyes half-lidded as he lazily stretched out across her lap.

    "Yeah, don''t remind me," she sighed, fingers flying over the keyboard. ¡°But seriously, why do so many people not know how to update their drivers? It¡¯s like they¡¯re asking for malware to creep into their systems.¡±

    ¡°People are idiots,¡± Vanguard replied with a purr, as if the thought didn¡¯t surprise him one bit. ¡°Besides, they¡¯re paying us to fix it, so maybe don¡¯t question their incompetence too hard.¡±

    "True," Vomi conceded, finishing up another quick system patch and sending the bill. At least freelance work was keeping the eddies flowing while she waited for something real to come along.

    The notification sound on her laptop pulled her attention. She clicked it open and saw the header she¡¯d been waiting for.

    M-Tech: Interview Confirmation

    ¡°Finally,¡± she breathed, a mix of excitement and nerves hitting her.

    ¡°About time,¡± Vanguard chimed in, hopping off her lap and settling on the bed. ¡°What¡¯s the deal? They giving us a shot?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Virtual interview, tomorrow.¡± She scanned the details. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re still being cautious, though. It¡¯s not with the tech team, it¡¯s with HR.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s tail flicked back and forth, his red eyes gleaming. ¡°Perfect. That¡¯s your chance to charm them with your dazzling personality.¡±

    Vomi snorted, leaning back in her chair. ¡°Right. My personality. Because that¡¯s what they care about.¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t sell yourself short,¡± he replied, his tone mockingly serious. ¡°You¡¯ve got a certain¡­ charm. People like you. Eventually.¡±

    ¡°Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, Vang,¡± she said, tossing him a smirk. But deep down, she knew he had a point. She could pull this off. She had to. It wasn¡¯t just about the gig; it was about getting deeper into M-Tech¡¯s systems, uncovering what Project Ouroboros really was, and getting a step ahead of whoever was keeping those secrets.

    But for now, she had to focus on staying sharp. The interview was tomorrow, and if everything went well, this could be the breakthrough they needed.

    ¡°Well,¡± Vomi said, closing her laptop and getting up from her chair, ¡°might as well get some rest and be fresh for tomorrow.¡±

    Vanguard leaped back onto the bed, curling up into his usual spot, that being her shoulder, ¡°It''s still morning. We should do something to distract ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Shopping?¡±, She offered, chuckling at the idea, ¡°I even sound like a normal woman saying that.¡±

    ¡°Your male features are getting overshadowed by the female ones, yes.¡±, He said, settling better on her shoulder, ¡°But a new set of clothes would do good with the HR.¡±

    Vomi ignored his remark at her previous identity, addressing the next point, ¡°Like what, a suit?¡±

    ¡°Too obvious. Something casual, but that shows professionalism. A sweater, maybe?¡±

    She nodded at the idea, ¡°Sounds nova. Although I like my coat.¡±

    ¡°You are always wearing it.¡±, He deadpanned, looking at the coat that was still on her, ¡°Could at least change which you use.¡±

    ¡°Can''t help when every piece of clothing I put turns into either black or white, can''t I?¡±, She snarked, actually getting a snort from Vanguard.

    ¡°Touch¨¦.¡±

    Vomi got up, the cat symbiote still in the same place like his paws got glued to her shoulder, ¡°If that''s the case, we can have a few drinks, meet people. No one will care that they can see you as long as you don''t talk.¡±

    ¡°Already putting me aside?¡±, He did a faux gasp, which was enough to make Vomi laugh.

    ¡°Your personality has grown quite a lot these days.¡±

    ¡°I am¡ª¡±

    ¡°Adaptable, I remember.¡±, She put a hand to shut him up, ¡°Don''t need to be reminded every day about it.¡±

    ¡°Rude.¡±

    With that, Vanguard jumped off her shoulder so she could change to more casual clothes. Today was going to be a nice and slow ride towards places both of them could enjoy, so she needed to get dressed appropriately. Then again¡­

    ¡°What should I wear?¡±

    The cat realized something, ¡°You have no idea how women dress, right?¡±

    ¡°.........no?¡±

    ¡°A dress¡ª¡±

    ¡°Pass.¡±

    The interruption was so fast that Vang needed to blink to process it.

    ¡°Okay, so no dresses.¡±, Vanguard nodded, still unsure why.

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    If that was the case, what should Vomi wear?

    If that was the case, what should Vomi wear today?

    "We are going to party today, essentially."

    "And buy new clothes.", Vomi added.

    Vomi glanced around the room, rummaging through the limited wardrobe she¡¯d managed to gather since arriving in the city. ¡°No dresses,¡± she repeated, pulling out a few options. ¡°Something comfortable but¡­ stylish?¡±

    Vanguard eyed the pile. ¡°You mean the black jeans and tank tops you¡¯ve been cycling through?¡±

    ¡°Hey, it works.¡± She tossed the clothes onto the bed and sighed. ¡°But yeah, maybe something with more flavor. What do you think about a hoodie?¡±

    ¡°Too casual. We¡¯re not just going to buy street kebabs,¡± Vanguard purred, ¡°we¡¯re making an impression.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she relented, ¡°what about those pants I picked up last week? The ones with the cargo pockets?¡±

    Vanguard hopped up on the bed, inspecting the options like a fashion consultant. ¡°Cargo pants are practical. Pair them with a fitted top. Maybe that bomber jacket you picked up at the flea market?¡±

    ¡°Bomber jacket? It¡¯s better than my coat, I guess,¡± she said, pulling it from the closet. It was black¡ªobviously¡ªwith a sleek design that still had a few tactical-looking straps and pockets.

    She slipped it on, and Vanguard nodded approvingly. ¡°Now you look like someone who can handle themselves and still get hired.¡±

    ¡°Not too corporate, but not too street,¡± Vomi muttered, checking herself out in the cracked mirror. ¡°I like it.¡±

    <hr>

    The streets were still buzzing as Vomi and Vanguard headed out. She got a few looks¡ªprobably because of the cat perched on her shoulder¡ªbut no one said anything. After all, it was 2077. People have seen weirder things than a cat with glowing red eyes.

    They hit a few shops, grabbing some extra clothes¡ªstuff Vomi could rotate through without looking like she was on a permanent undercover mission. As they headed toward one of the local clubs, Vanguard broke the comfortable silence.

    ¡°So, what are you expecting from this party?¡± he asked, his tail flicking idly as they walked.

    ¡°Nothing crazy,¡± Vomi said with a shrug. ¡°Just want to relax, maybe make some contacts. It¡¯s not all about hacking and gigs. Sometimes you need to know people.¡±

    ¡°True. Networking in the flesh has its perks.¡± Vanguard tilted his head, ¡°And maybe you¡¯ll overhear something useful.¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Exactly.¡±

    <hr>

    The club wasn¡¯t as flashy as some of the other night spots in Night City, but it had a nice vibe¡ªneon lights, heavy bass, and just enough of a crowd to feel alive without being suffocating.

    Vomi found a corner booth where she could people-watch while nursing a drink. Vanguard curled up next to her, occasionally flicking his ears at interesting conversations happening nearby.

    She relaxed, the thrum of the music in her bones, her mind finally letting go of the stress she¡¯d been carrying. For now, she wasn¡¯t thinking about M-Tech, Project Ouroboros, or the next gig. It was just her, Vanguard, and the city.

    Then someone approached them, ¡°Hey choom. You alone?¡±

    Vomi glanced at the man who was holding a bottle of¡­ something. Drinks and foods in Cyberpunk were weird. The man was decent though, actual normal clothes, no visible chrome that screamed danger, even Vanguard was chill near him.

    ¡°If don''t count the cat, yeah.¡±, She said, pointing at the symbiote cat.

    He meowed as a response, almost making Vomi snort.

    The man chuckled, glancing at Vanguard. ¡°Cute. Didn¡¯t think cats were still a thing around here.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I,¡± Vomi replied dryly, sipping her drink.

    ¡°I¡¯m Marco,¡± the man said, sliding into the booth across from her. ¡°You don¡¯t look like the regulars around here. New to the scene?¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge his intentions. ¡°I blend in when I need to. What about you? You come here often?¡±

    Marco shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m around. This place is quiet enough for some biz, loud enough to drown out the wrong kind of attention, you know?¡±

    She nodded, silently filing that away. ¡°So, what kind of biz?¡±

    He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping. ¡°Freelance work. People talk about you in certain circles. Figured you might be looking for something more¡­ high-end.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Vomi didn¡¯t flinch, but Vanguard stirred on her shoulder. ¡°You hear that a lot around here?¡±

    ¡°Only from the serious players.¡± Marco¡¯s eyes gleamed as he took a sip from his bottle. ¡°I¡¯ve got a client. High-paying. Needs someone who can handle themselves on a gig that requires discretion and skills beyond what the usual mercs can offer.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a lot of risk,¡± Vomi said, crossing her arms. ¡°And I¡¯m already booked.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but not for long, right? You strike me as someone who¡¯s always got room for the right opportunity.¡± He glanced down at Vanguard again, smirking. ¡°You don¡¯t get a cat like that without knowing how to get your hands dirty.¡±

    Vomi shot him a skeptical look. ¡°What¡¯s the gig?¡±

    Marco leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. ¡°High-security data retrieval. A rival corp. The payout¡¯s enough to keep you comfortable for a long time.¡±

    Vomi stared at him for a moment, the music pulsing around them. ¡°You¡¯ve got a card or something?¡±

    Marco slid a small chip across the table. ¡°All the details. Take your time to think it over. But don¡¯t wait too long. These kinds of opportunities don¡¯t stick around.¡±

    She pocketed the chip, eyeing him cautiously. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡±

    He stood up, giving her a small nod. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make the right choice, choom.¡±

    As he disappeared into the crowd, Vanguard¡¯s voice hummed in her head, ¡°That¡¯s one to keep an eye on.¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± she murmured, leaning back in the booth, her mind now swirling with thoughts of this mysterious job.

    The quiet night she had hoped for was clearly over.

    ¡°Fuuuuck, now I am curious¡­¡±, She groaned as she slid down her seat.

    ¡°Granted, it will give us a better impression at the interview if we complete it today.¡±

    ¡°But today was supposed to be rest-day!¡±, She whined, ¡°Fuuuuck¡­¡±

    Vomi slumped further into the booth, torn between her curiosity and her need for a break. Vanguard hopped off her shoulder and onto the table, his red eyes flickering with amusement.

    ¡°You could always just ignore it, you know,¡± he purred, licking his paw. ¡°But¡­ you won¡¯t.¡±

    Vomi groaned again, rubbing her temples. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m too curious for my own good. Plus, high-security data retrieval? That sounds way too juicy to pass up.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Vanguard sat upright, his tail swishing lazily. ¡°And if we pull this off, it might give us an edge at the M-Tech interview tomorrow. Show them we¡¯re not just some amateur.¡±

    ¡°You really know how to push my buttons, Vang,¡± she said with a sigh, sitting up and pulling out the chip Marco had given her. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what this is all about.¡±

    Slotting the chip into her interface, a series of files popped up. Blueprints, access codes, and a brief on the rival corp in question. It wasn¡¯t M-Tech, but it was a player she had heard whispers about¡ªAscendant Innovations. Smaller, but vicious in its climb up the corporate ladder.

    ¡°This¡­ this is serious,¡± Vomi muttered as she scanned the details. ¡°Ascendant has some heavy ICE on their systems. We¡¯re talking black market-level stuff.¡±

    ¡°Good thing we¡¯ve been preparing for something like this,¡± Vanguard purred. ¡°The laptop¡¯s ready, and we¡¯ve got some tricks up our sleeve.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re not diving headfirst into a corp war. Not without some prep.¡± Vomi stood up, grabbing her jacket. ¡°Let¡¯s go back to the apartment. I¡¯ll need to load up some extra quick hacks before we even think about hitting their servers.¡±

    ¡°Smart. Let¡¯s not get our brains fried tonight,¡± Vanguard said, hopping back onto her shoulder.

    As they headed out of the club and into the neon-lit streets, Vomi¡¯s mind raced with possibilities. This job was dangerous, no doubt, but if they pulled it off¡­ it could be a game-changer.

    And if not, well, at least she had Vanguard to help her crawl out of the wreckage.

    ¡°Guess tonight isn¡¯t gonna be as chill as I hoped,¡± she said under her breath.

    ¡°Never is,¡± Vanguard replied with a flick of his tail, his red eyes gleaming in the night.

    She got close to Marco who was trying to seduce another woman, who was not as interested as the man himself, ¡°You.¡±

    The voice was commanding, and it gave an awkward feeling that Marco might be caught cheating by the reaction everyone gave.

    ¡°Huh?¡±, The man stared back, ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

    But instead of just waiting for a response, Marco was grabbed by his arm, a tight grip giving him some sense that he messed up on something, that kind of mistake you forgot you made. The previous booth was relieved and curious about what the hell just happened.

    As they left the bar, Vomi finally allowed the man to walk on his own.

    ¡°Care to explain what the fuck did I do to you?¡±, He demanded, not a fan of being dragged around, it seemed.

    Vanguard was now at the ground, but still walked close to his host.

    ¡°I am gonna take your gig.¡±, She explained, a frown still very much visible, ¡°Today was supposed to be my day off. But thanks to you and my own flaws I wouldn''t be able to sleep well after refusing this gig.¡±

    Marco just stared at her, before blinking twice, ¡°Thanks?¡±

    ¡°I''ll go home and grab my stuff. You will explain everything to me while we are at it.¡±

    At that, she pushed him to the Colby, ignoring the obvious protests and attempts of resistance, shoving him at the passenger seat, starting the engine and just flooring the gas pedal, all the while Vanguard was casually sitting on the car''s dashboard, his paws working like a glue, even if Vomi was absolute maniac behind the wheel.

    ¡°AAAAAAAHHHHHH¡ª¡±, Marco''s screams echoed by the streets of San Francisco.

    <hr>

    As they finally reached the Megabuilding, Marco¡¯s first action was to puke at the side of the car.

    ¡°C''mon, it''s not so bad.¡±, Vomi commented, still frowning.

    ¡°I am never letting you drive any car, ever.¡±

    Vanguard, still on the dashboard, meowed at the suffering man.

    "Fuck you too, kitty.¡±, Marco puked again.

    Ugh¡­

    Vomi glanced over at Marco, unbothered by his misery. "You¡¯ll get used to it," she said flatly, stepping out of the Colby and stretching as if she hadn¡¯t just hit ninety on the city streets. ¡°Now, get up. We¡¯ve got work to do.¡±

    Marco wiped his mouth, still recovering from the ride. ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re underprepared,¡± Vomi shot back, walking towards the entrance of the Megabuilding. ¡°So, spill the details. What exactly are we dealing with here?¡±

    Marco staggered after her, still pale but gathering himself. ¡°It¡¯s Ascendant Innovations. They¡¯ve been quietly expanding their reach into areas they shouldn¡¯t be. My contact says they¡¯re running tests on something big, something way off the books. The files I gave you? They¡¯re just the tip of the iceberg.¡±

    Vomi nodded, scanning her surroundings as they walked. ¡°And the security?¡±

    ¡°Like I said before, heavy ICE. Rumor has it they¡¯ve got some nasty AI guarding their deeper servers. But¡­,¡± he paused, trying to keep pace with her as she entered the building, ¡°that¡¯s where you come in, right? You¡¯re the best shot I¡¯ve got at pulling this off. I saw your jobs on the Net, solving 60 requests in the last few hours. No one can do that without being top-notch.¡±

    Vomi smirked, feeling a surge of confidence. ¡°I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I¡¯ve had my fair share of close calls. Just because I¡¯m quick doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m invincible.¡±

    Marco shrugged, his face still a bit green but his demeanor shifting as they entered the elevator. ¡°No one is invincible. But you¡¯ve got a reputation now. If we¡¯re going to crack this, I need you to stay sharp.¡±

    ¡°Just focus on the exit plan,¡± she replied, leaning against the elevator wall. ¡°If things go sideways, I don¡¯t want you frozen in fear.¡±

    The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and they stepped out into a sleek, sterile corridor. The stark white walls contrasted sharply with the colorful chaos of the streets outside, giving the place a clinical feel. ¡°So, where are we headed?¡±

    ¡°Follow me,¡± Vomi said, Vanguard jumping to the ground and walking to the door of their apartment.

    Marco saw the apartment. Nothing too uncommon for Netrunners, even those who don''t dive in the Cyberspace, to have a humble environment to work with. Vomi put the bags of clothes on the kitchen table, probably thinking she wouldn''t be able to try the looks of them today, maybe not even tomorrow, as she grabbed the laptop, starting it up and putting her personal chord on it.

    ¡°Nice place.¡±, Marco commented.

    Before Vomi could respond, the cat climbed his way up to his shoulder. Even with Marco trying to stop the feline, he eventually settled down on his shoulder.

    ¡°H-hey! This suit is expensive!¡±

    ¡°He tends to do that.¡±, Vomi commented offhandedly as she coded new safety protocols, ¡°Now tell me you have access to the shard you gave me.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±, Marco got close to the laptop and handed another shard of his log-in service to the Ascendent Innovations, ¡°This is my backdoor. Well, not mine, but you get the idea.¡±

    She hummed in affirmation. Silently working as Marco watched.

    And he wasn''t impressed by how she was doing, but by the sheer speed she did it.

    How can someone type this fast?

    Vomi¡¯s fingers flew over the keyboard, each keystroke producing a flurry of code that formed a digital barrier against the prying eyes of Ascendant¡¯s security. The glow from the screen illuminated her focused expression, and Marco couldn¡¯t help but feel a mix of admiration and envy.

    ¡°Is this even legal?¡± he asked, glancing nervously at the door. ¡°I mean, I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d be doing anything this¡­ intense.¡±

    ¡°Legal? Seriously?¡± Vomi scoffed, not looking up. ¡°You¡¯ll learn to stop worrying about that.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Marco replied, swallowing hard. He didn¡¯t want to admit that he was getting a bit nervous. ¡°So, how long do you think it¡¯ll take?¡±

    ¡°Depends on how secure their systems are,¡± she replied, her eyes darting across the screen as lines of code blurred together. ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse, but Ascendant is known for their aggressive security measures.¡±

    Vanguard shifted slightly on Marco¡¯s shoulder, his red eyes narrowing as he sent a mental message to Vomi, ¡°They¡¯re also known for getting careless. Let¡¯s hope we find a hole before they notice us poking around.¡±

    ¡°Speak of the devil,¡± Vomi muttered, a flicker of tension in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m getting some heat on the network. They¡¯re definitely on alert.¡±

    Marco felt a chill run down his spine. ¡°What do we do if they find us?¡±

    ¡°I already have countermeasures.¡±, Vomi activated a decoy quick hack.

    It was way easier to have programs ready to boot every time while doing a breach. Thankfully, whatever Netrunner they have wasn''t as experienced as Vomi was in this kind of battle. Coding? Yeah, she can be beaten, but fighting smart will always be better than fighting hard.

    The decoy did its job, fake data in a mishmash of requests drawing the servers force to a different place while clearing the way so Vomi could continue her breach. If not for Marco''s backdoor, this might have been impossible to do, but she needed to act faster and pull up some data.

    ¡°What am I looking for exactly?¡±, She asked, still typing hastily.

    ¡°Delivery routes, mostly. Ascendant hardly delivers data via the net. Putting it in discs and shards is way safer, but also easier to locate.¡±, Marco explained, his shoulder getting sore from the cat''s weight, ¡°Look buddy, do you mind?¡±

    The cat''s red eyes looked at him, then closed and settled back in his position.

    ¡°Figures.¡±

    ¡°Focus, Marco,¡± Vomi snapped, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she bypassed several firewalls, her mind working in overdrive. ¡°I need specifics. What delivery routes do they use? Names, times, anything you¡¯ve got.¡±

    ¡°Uh, right,¡± Marco stammered, glancing nervously at the laptop, trying to remember any useful thing he could say. ¡°I overheard some of the logistics guys mention a drop-off at Pier 23. That¡¯s where they bring in sensitive shipments. If we can get in there before they do, we could snag something big.¡±

    Vomi nodded, the pieces falling into place. ¡°And the security around that area?¡±

    ¡°Supposed to be tight,¡± Marco said, his voice wavering slightly. ¡°They¡¯ve got a few guards, but they mostly rely on cameras and drones to keep watch. If you can get us in unnoticed, we might just pull this off.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± she muttered, her mind racing. ¡°Let¡¯s hope your contact¡¯s intel is solid.¡±

    ¡°Why do I feel like that¡¯s not a good sign?¡± Marco asked, a slight sense of dread filling his mind.

    ¡°Because it probably isn¡¯t,¡± Vomi admitted, her gaze fixed on the laptop screen as the breach began to bear fruit, ¡°Pier 23¡­ There are some shipments here.¡±

    ¡°Look for something small.¡±, The man pointed out.

    Vanguard finally left his shoulder. Jumping and seemingly inspecting the screen?

    Uhh¡­ sure.

    ¡°Looks like they want to make it seem like there isn''t anything worth of value here.¡±, Vanguard pulsed his thoughts to Vomi.

    ¡°If I was a corporation trying to send sensitive information to another place, where would I send it? Where would I hide it?¡±, Vomi muttered, piecing together the clues.

    Marco got to the other side of the laptop, ¡°Probably here?¡±

    Vomi looked inside the shipment¡¯s files.

    ¡°A car?¡±, She wondered aloud.

    ¡°Can store lots of shards, has decent ICE protection, will be guarded 24/7 on the pier and ship¡­¡±, Marco counted in his fingers the number of advantages of the location.

    ¡°He''s right.¡±, The symbiote cat said in her mind, ¡°That''s the safest place to put it.¡±

    Before they could check for the veracity of the info, Vomi''s connection to the server was shut down.

    ¡°That''s our target then.¡±, The scientist sighed.

    ¡°Wow, that''s¡­¡±, Marco wiped a bit of sweat off his face, even when he wasn''t the guy who worked on the breaching, ¡°Seeing a pro working is¡­ intense.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know. I¡¯m pretty awesome,¡± Vomi replied, a smirk dancing on her lips as she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. ¡°But hey, I think I just got an idea.¡±

    ¡°Uh-oh,¡± Marco said, eyeing her with suspicion. ¡°What kind of idea?¡±

    ¡°A brilliant one!¡± she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°What if we just, like, roll up to Pier 23 in a delivery truck? You know, act like we¡¯re part of the crew?¡±

    ¡°Vomi, that¡¯s the worst idea I¡¯ve ever heard,¡± Marco protested, shaking his head. ¡°You can¡¯t just pretend to be a delivery person! They¡¯ll definitely check IDs or something.¡±

    ¡°Okay, but hear me out,¡± she said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°What if we throw on some work uniforms and slap a fake logo on the side? We could even make a sign that says, ¡®Super Secret Delivery: Handle With Care!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Marco stared at her, a mix of disbelief and horror in his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s next? A fake accent?¡±

    ¡°Exactly! I could totally pull off a convincing delivery driver accent,¡± she said, her enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Picture it: we roll in, look all official, grab the car, and nobody suspects a thing!¡±

    ¡°Right, because they¡¯ll definitely just let two random people with a terrible fake logo drive away with a high-security vehicle,¡± Marco countered, running a hand through his hair. ¡°You realize this could end with us getting arrested or worse, right?¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± Vomi said, ignoring his panic, ¡°we could get the intel we need without any fighting. We can have Vanguard keep watch while we play the roles of our lives. It¡¯ll be perfect!¡±

    ¡°Perfectly insane,¡± Marco muttered, ¡°A cat as overwatch?¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Marco! Live a little! When¡¯s the last time you had fun?¡± Vomi shot back, a grin spreading across her face. ¡°Besides, we can always bail if it gets too hot. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re married to the plan or anything. But it will be so fantastic!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, if your idea of a fantastic delivery driver is someone who ends up in a corpo prison,¡± Marco said dryly, ¡°I should never have hired you.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so we have a plan!¡± Vomi declared, practically bouncing in her chair. ¡°We¡¯ll hit up a thrift store, grab some uniforms, and get a cheap spray paint job on an old delivery truck. It¡¯ll be hilarious!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, hilarious until we¡¯re caught,¡± Marco grumbled, but Vomi¡¯s energy was contagious.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got this,¡± Vomi assured him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡±

    ¡°Famous last words before the worst happening.¡±, He muttered.

    ¡°Well, that is if we didn''t have this thing.¡±, Her eyes shined blue, a file appearing in his Agent.

    ¡°Did¡­ did you just¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡±

    ¡°In that short time space?¡±

    ¡°Yuhuh!¡±

    ¡°...You are a psycho, aren''t you?¡±

    ¡°Well, someone had to invite me to a gig when I was supposed to rest, so we either do this today or you can do it with someone else.¡±, She crossed her arms in a pout, ¡°But I doubt you can do that now that they are on high alert.¡±

    ¡°That''s precisely why this plan is dumb.¡±, He deadpanned.

    ¡°Sorry! Can''t hear you over my awesomeness!¡±, Vomi said while going to her bedroom.

    Then there was Marco in the room, with the cat looking at him with those big red eyes.

    ¡°What the actual fuck?¡±, He muttered, already regretting getting in this mess.

    The cat meowed again, rubbing his face on his arm.

    Marco petted the kitty, ¡°Might as well go all in then. I am at least paid enough to deal with this.¡±

    ¡°Smart human.¡±, Vanguard aprooved.

 Chapter 8: Surge

    Marco Gerome

    Vomi might be the weirdest person Marco has ever met in his life, and that''s an achievement when you put on the fact that he is a corpo. Not exactly a corpo, he isn''t working for a corporation specifically, but his gigs are mostly with them. He has dealt with so many people, ranging from total maniacs who think more money means more loyalty to methodic cold strategists that are so paranoid they might as well have optics in the back of their head. And that''s not an impossible feat, last time he checked.

    But her? She didn''t fit the spectrum of a corpo, not a streetkid, not even a nomad. She drives a Nomad car, yes, but she doesn''t act like one. She does act like a child with too many toys to play with, which isn''t the best thing in the world, not the worst. The worst is her sudden change, going from ¡°carefree with no self preservation¡± to ¡°ninja with years of experience on the field¡± in a moment''s notice. The complete lack of consistency made her even more dangerous, as Marco was dragged to do something he shouldn''t, which is do the gig himself, putting his life on the line, who probably is going to go flat.

    Oh, and there''s the cat too.

    What''s his deal anyway? Why does it look like he''s watching? Studying? Preying?

    Either way, he at least was comfortable in his lap, purring slightly as both of them waited for Vomi. She was just about klepping a truck they could use.

    As Marco sat there, nervously petting Vanguard, he couldn''t help but wonder if this was the stupidest thing he¡¯d ever done. Fuck that¡ªthis was definitely the stupidest thing he''d ever done. He was about to infiltrate a high-security pier, pretending to be a delivery driver with a woman who seemed to have the attention span of a goldfish and the skills of a covert ops agent. And a cat. Don''t forget the cat.

    "Why do I do this to myself?" he muttered, rubbing his temple as Vanguard purred in his lap, content and completely unaware¡ªor maybe entirely aware¡ªof the chaos that was about to unfold.

    Marco shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep still as Vanguard made himself at home on his lap. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the cat was more than just a cat, but whenever he looked down, Vanguard would be purring like any other harmless pet.

    "What''s taking her so long?" Marco muttered under his breath. "She should¡¯ve been back by now."

    Vanguard flicked his tail, his red eyes watching the street ahead. Vomi had disappeared into the shadows a while ago, leaving Marco to stew in his nervous thoughts.

    ¡°Probably jacking a truck or something,¡± Marco whispered to himself, feeling an odd sense of calm despite everything. ¡°This is crazy. Why did I agree to this?¡±

    Right on cue, the sound of an engine roaring to life broke the silence. Marco¡¯s eyes widened as he spotted a massive armored truck pulling up in front of them. The driver¡¯s window rolled down, revealing Vomi with a huge grin on her face.

    ¡°Hop in!¡± she called, as if this were a casual night out.

    Marco stared in disbelief. ¡°You klepped that?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°It was easier than I thought.¡±

    Marco blinked, not sure whether to be impressed or terrified. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get us killed.¡±

    ¡°Not if you quit whining and get in the damn truck,¡± she replied, her grin widening. ¡°C¡¯mon, Marco. Gotta delta!¡±

    Marco reluctantly stood up, trying to dislodge Vanguard, who, of course, stayed comfortably where he was until Marco had to awkwardly scoop him up. As he climbed into the truck, Marco muttered, ¡°This is the worst idea ever.¡±

    But Vomi? She just smiled wider. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s brilliant. Trust me.¡±

    That was the thing. He wasn¡¯t sure if he did.

    That didn''t stop him from entering the truck though.

    As soon as he looked at the back seats, he was stunned, ¡°You got a fucking weapon''s stash?!? How?!?¡±

    ¡°Killed a few Zoom Hunters. Gangsters are usually dumb and don''t watch a vehicle they think is untouchable.¡±, She offered as the truck roared to the pier.

    ¡°There is a reason why!¡±, He yelled, jumping the seats and checking the iron stored in the back, ¡°Some of this stuff is expensive!¡±

    ¡°Eh.¡±, Vomi shrugged, not interested in the loot, ¡°At least the previous owners won''t miss it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I zero¡¯ed them, of course.¡±

    Marco froze for a second, staring at Vomi in disbelief. ¡°You what?¡±

    ¡°I zero¡¯ed them,¡± Vomi repeated casually, her eyes still on the road. ¡°Had to. They weren¡¯t gonna let me just drive off with their truck.¡±

    Marco ran his hands through his hair, trying to process this. ¡°You¡¯re insane. Do you even know who those guys were?! Zoom Hunters don¡¯t just let things slide! They¡¯re gonna come after us!¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. ¡°Good thing we¡¯re not sticking around long enough for them to do that, huh?¡±

    Marco groaned, flopping back against the seat, still clutching one of the weapons. ¡°This is so messed up. We¡¯re already risking our necks stealing from Ascendant, and now we¡¯ve got a gang of psychos after us too?¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± Vomi said, her tone far too casual for the situation. ¡°I¡¯ve got it under control.¡±

    Vanguard, still perched on Marco¡¯s lap, let out a low purr, though he only voiced his thoughts to Vomi, as usual. "He''s panicking too much. This is standard procedure for you."

    Vomi smirked, listening to her symbiote¡¯s commentary in her head. She glanced over at Marco, who was clearly still rattled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Marco. Just stick to the plan, and we¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Marco stared at her, utterly unconvinced. ¡°Your plans get people killed.¡±

    ¡°Only the ones who deserve it,¡± she replied smoothly.

    Marco slumped back in his seat, clutching the weapon for dear life. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna survive this night¡­¡±

    Vomi laughed. "Sure you will. Worst-case scenario, you get a free ride in the back of this armored truck. Could be worse.¡±

    Marco gave her a deadpan look. ¡°You¡¯re really bad at comforting people, you know that?¡±

    ¡°Never said I was trying to.¡±

    ¡°Ugh¡­ You better be as good as a merc as you are as a Netrunner.¡±

    Vomi smirked, her eyes still fixed on the road. ¡°You¡¯ll see soon enough. Just try not to get in the way.¡±

    Marco sighed, gripping the gun tighter. ¡°I¡¯m not cut out for this. I¡¯m a fixer, not a frontline guy.¡±

    ¡°Good thing you¡¯ve got me, then,¡± Vomi replied, her tone dripping with confidence. ¡°I do both.¡±

    The truck sped through the city, the neon lights flickering past as they approached the pier. The tension inside the cab grew thicker with each passing second. Marco kept glancing nervously at the back, where the weapons were stashed, clearly still trying to come to terms with what they were about to do.

    Vomi glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ¡°You¡¯re gonna want to chill, Marco. Sweating bullets before the action isn¡¯t gonna help.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sweating because I know how bad this can go,¡± Marco muttered. ¡°You? You seem to thrive in it.¡±

    ¡°Gotta have fun with it, or else what¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°Fun?¡± Marco gawked at her, genuinely bewildered. ¡°Stealing from one of the biggest corps in the city while gangsters might be hunting us is fun to you?¡±

    Vomi shrugged again. ¡°Hey, it beats a desk job.¡±

    The corpo stuttered before admitting, ¡°I hate the fact that I can''t argue with that.¡±

    Vanguard just meowed.

    As they pulled into the shadows near Pier 23, Vomi killed the engine and turned to Marco. ¡°Alright. You stay here and keep the engine running. If things get loud, we¡¯re out fast.¡±

    Marco swallowed hard, giving a shaky nod. ¡°Got it. Don¡¯t die in there, okay?¡±

    Vomi flashed him a grin, cracking her knuckles. ¡°There''s a smart sniper in the back. If I need cover, use it.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±, He said as he grabbed the sniper, ¡°Oh God¡­¡±

    ¡°Nova!¡±

    She immediately left, jumping really high, using the sunlight to cover up the fact she was trespassing a restricted area. Probably Ankle chrome.

    Marco sat there, grilling the wheel and muttered, ¡°I should''ve stayed in bed.¡±

    <hr>

    She fell gracefully, her landing not making a sound. She quickly brought up her laptop, the lack of a Cyberdeck being a pain, but it''s way better than being traced back at every single hack attempt. The place Vomi landed was near a cafeteria, the only place that Pier 23 had few minutes of quiet, and as consequence, no people, no vigilance. She connected the cord of the laptop near the door lock and hacked the safety measures easily, but her aim was not the cafeteria, it was the Security Servers. That way she could upload the fake credentials she did when first breaching Ascendant Innovations servers.

    Sure, if anyone double checked it would be a bust, but armored trucks tended to be used for a reason. If you can''t get inside, it means it will be delivered safely.

    It just so happens that this isn''t the case.

    As Vomi moved quietly toward the security room, the familiar hum of her laptop in hand, Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed in her mind. ¡°You¡¯re cutting it close.¡±

    ¡°I always cut it close,¡± she thought back, her fingers flying over the keys as she breached the server¡¯s defenses. ¡°That¡¯s how I know it¡¯s working.¡±

    The servers were tougher than she anticipated, but nothing she couldn¡¯t handle. With a few keystrokes, she began uploading the fake credentials she¡¯d crafted earlier. The security system accepted them without a hitch.

    ¡°Too easy,¡± she muttered under her breath.

    ¡°Don¡¯t jinx it,¡± Vanguard reminded her, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.

    Vomi rolled her eyes. ¡°Just keep an eye on Marco. I don¡¯t need him losing it while I¡¯m in here.¡±

    ¡°Already on it,¡± came the cat¡¯s silent reply. She could almost feel Vanguard''s smirk.

    With the credentials uploaded, Vomi disconnected and slinked through the shadows, keeping an eye on the armored trucks that lined the pier. She was looking for a specific one ¡ª the one Marco had mentioned, carrying the sensitive delivery they were after.

    She spotted it: a sleek black vehicle with an armored chassis. A quick glance around confirmed the coast was clear. She approached, her heartbeat steady. Just as she reached the truck, her laptop beeped softly ¡ª the decoy program she¡¯d set up had been triggered. Someone was onto the breach.

    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to be quick about this,¡± she muttered.

    Inside the cab, Marco shifted nervously, his fingers tapping on the sniper rifle she¡¯d given him. ¡°She better not take too long¡­¡±

    His agent immediately appeared, a call from the woman herself.

    ¡°Got the package secured. Someone is checking the servers, but I think I can distract them long enough so you can come and put the car on the truck.¡±

    Her voice was calm, yet he could see a hint of urgency.

    ¡°Sure. I''ll go.¡±

    ¡°Quick. Can''t stall for long.¡±

    As soon as the call finished, he got closer to the Pier''s entrance, ¡°This truck better work¡­¡±

    Marco gripped the wheel tightly, his heart racing as he maneuvered the stolen truck toward the entrance of the pier. The darkness enveloped him, but he could see the faint glow of lights from the armored vehicles ahead. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. ¡°Okay, just act natural,¡± he muttered to himself, hoping that would somehow help.

    As he approached the guard checkpoint, he felt the weight of the sniper rifle resting in the back seat. It was both a comfort and a reminder of how far out of his depth he was. ¡°What am I even doing here?¡± he questioned, glancing at the rearview mirror, where Vanguard¡¯s red eyes glowed faintly.

    He forced a grin as he reached the security gate. The guard eyed him suspiciously but waved him through. ¡°Just a routine check,¡± he said, keeping his tone casual. ¡°Got a delivery for the Ascendant team.¡±

    ¡°Got credentials?¡±, The guard asked casually.

    It looks like the big truck is working as a disguise. Not to mention the fact that they actually are using delivery uniforms.

    ¡°You can check if you want.¡±, Marco informed, ¡°Hey! Vanguard, stop that!¡±

    The symbiote cat was jumping over the seats and dashboard of the truck, much to the guards amusement, but eventually Vanguard stopped.

    ¡°Hehehehehe! Alright, your creds check. Go on, but don''t let the kitty go loose.¡±, The guard waved his hand, shooing them off.

    ¡°Oh trust me, I didn''t even want him with me.¡±, Marco said annoyingly.

    Only for Vanguard to paw punch him in the face.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    ¡°Get lost already.¡±, The guard reminded him.

    Begrudgingly, Marco drove the truck next to their target. A Blue Chevillon Thrax 388 Jefferson. He parked the truck next to it, seeing that Vomit was already breaching the car''s safety protocols. He jumped out of the truck and checked on her.

    ¡°Are we good?¡±

    ¡°Not now.¡±, She had a deep frown in her forehead, ¡°This is actual tight security.¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    And it was. Sensitive data tended to be heavily guarded, but to have four ICE barriers was something Vomi has never seen, at least until now.

    ¡°Four ICE barriers? What the hell are they trying to protect?¡± Marco asked, glancing nervously around the pier. The shadows seemed to stretch ominously, as if the night itself was watching.

    Vomi gritted her teeth, fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop. ¡°Sensitive data means they¡¯re hiding something big. I just need a moment.¡± She bit her lip, her focus intense.

    ¡°Sure, no pressure or anything,¡± Marco replied, shifting from foot to foot, anxiety gnawing at him. ¡°If they catch us¡ª¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Vomi snapped, her eyes glued to the screen. ¡°Just keep an eye out for guards, okay? I¡¯ll let you know when I¡¯m in.¡±

    ¡°Right, just your casual heist,¡± he mumbled under his breath, peering over her shoulder at the swirling lines of code. ¡°Why did I agree to this again?¡±

    ¡°Because I saved your ass, remember?¡± Vomi shot back, her tone teasing despite the tension in the air. ¡°Now, stop whining and watch for trouble.¡±

    Marco nodded, trying to focus as he scanned the surroundings. He felt a bit like a deer caught in headlights, but he couldn¡¯t let Vomi down. As she worked, he noticed Vanguard curled up in the passenger seat, watching them with an almost amused expression.

    ¡°Why do I feel like I¡¯m part of a really bad action movie?¡± Marco said, shaking his head. ¡°You know, the ones where everything goes wrong?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re not exactly the hero type,¡± Vomi replied, still concentrated on her task. ¡°More like the reluctant sidekick.¡±

    ¡°Great, just what I wanted to hear,¡± he muttered, but a part of him couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of pride. He was doing something, however dangerous, alongside someone who clearly knew her stuff.

    After a tense few moments, Vomi let out a small victory laugh. ¡°Got it! The first barrier is down. Now onto the next.¡±

    Marco watched in awe as she typed rapidly, feeling a bit better about their odds. ¡°Nice work! Keep it coming!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too cocky,¡± she warned, narrowing her eyes. ¡°The next one might be tougher.¡±

    Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance. Marco¡¯s heart dropped. ¡°Uh, Vomi? We might have company.¡±

    ¡°Focus!¡± she hissed, her fingers never slowing down. ¡°Just stay calm.¡±

    He stepped closer to her, peering around nervously. ¡°How calm can I be when I¡¯m about to get caught in a corporate sting operation?¡±

    ¡°Calm enough to not make a scene,¡± she snapped, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. ¡°You want to draw attention? Because that¡¯ll get us killed!¡±

    Marco took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his cool. ¡°Right. Just... chill. I can do that.¡± He tried to look casual, but his heart raced as the footsteps grew louder.

    ¡°Almost through,¡± Vomi murmured, her eyes darting back to the screen. ¡°Just need a few more seconds¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not enough time!¡± Marco replied, glancing toward the source of the footsteps. ¡°They¡¯re getting closer!¡±

    ¡°Just hold on!¡± she shot back, desperation creeping into her voice. ¡°I can do this!¡±

    The footsteps stopped just outside the truck, and Marco¡¯s breath hitched in his throat. ¡°Shit! They¡¯re here!¡±

    ¡°What the¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Intruders!¡±

    Shit.

    Without taking her eyes out of the laptop, Vomi picked up her Nue and shot the tek guards that spotted them, their blood forcing the floor to be painted with red, instead of the not so slick corporate-white color it had before.

    ¡°You had ONE job.¡±, Vomi pointed at him with her Nue, ¡°We have iron in the truck. Go and use it!

    Marco¡¯s mind raced as he processed Vomi¡¯s command. ¡°Right! Iron!¡± He grabbed the sniper rifle from the back seat, his hands shaking slightly as he felt the weight of the weapon. ¡°I can do this!¡± he muttered to himself, more to convince himself than anything else.

    ¡°Get a move on, Marco!¡± Vomi shouted, already firing off rounds at another guard who appeared from around the corner. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for hesitation!¡±

    With a deep breath, Marco swung the door open and stepped out into the chaos. The pier was suddenly alive with the sounds of alarms blaring and guards yelling. He spotted a couple of guards rushing toward them, their weapons drawn.

    ¡°Hey! Over here!¡± Marco shouted, trying to draw their attention. He raised the rifle awkwardly, aiming at the nearest guard. His heart raced as he pulled the trigger, the rifle¡¯s recoil startling him.

    The shot rang out, and to his surprise, he hit the guard in the shoulder. ¡°Yes! I did it!¡± he exclaimed, adrenaline surging through him.

    ¡°Smart weapon.¡±, She said, back to her unusual calm tone, ¡°The bullets will fly to your target. Of course you did it.¡±

    ¡°H-hey!¡±

    Vomi ignored Marco as she was coding the last two ICE barriers, ¡°Try keeping them off me, would you?¡±

    Marco nodded, adrenaline flooding his system. ¡°Right! I can do this!¡± He steadied the rifle, focusing on the next guard rushing toward them. ¡°Come on, come on¡­¡±

    He squeezed the trigger again, the rifle barking as the shot flew true. This time, he hit the guard right in the chest. ¡°I¡¯m getting the hang of this!¡± Marco shouted, a mix of excitement and disbelief. Smart Weapon, but still.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t let it go to your head.¡± Vomi called over her shoulder, still typing furiously on her laptop. ¡°We need to clear a path before they swarm us.¡±

    More guards were converging on their position, their shouts echoing through the chaos. ¡°You think they heard that?¡± Marco shouted back, his hands shaking slightly as he reloaded the rifle.

    ¡°I think the entire district heard it.¡± Vomi replied, her eyes darting between the screen and the chaos unfolding outside. ¡°So, how about you focus on keeping them off me while I finish this hack?¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Marco fired again, his nerves fraying as he took aim at another guard. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit the guard in the leg, sending him crashing to the ground. ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡±

    Vomi glanced back at him, a flicker of appreciation in her eyes. ¡°Not bad for a corpo boy.¡±

    ¡°Thanks! Just don¡¯t call me that,¡± Marco retorted, aiming once more. ¡°I¡¯d rather be called a hero.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with that.¡± she smirked, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she bypassed the last of the ICE barriers. ¡°Just a few more seconds¡­ and¡­¡±

    With a final keystroke, the barriers fell. ¡°Got it! Now let¡¯s get the hell out of here!¡± Vomi shouted, her voice rising above the din.

    Marco jumped out of the truck, rifle raised, and sprinted toward the armored vehicle they were targeting. ¡°Cover me!¡± he yelled, heart pounding in his chest as he darted across the open space.

    ¡°Moving!¡± Vomi fired again, taking out another guard who tried to flank them. Marco reached the side of the armored truck, his breath coming in rapid bursts.

    ¡°Okay, now what?¡± he panted, glancing back at Vomi, who was still keeping the guards at bay.

    ¡°Check the doors. If they¡¯re locked, I¡¯ll hack them.¡± she said calmly, darting closer to him.

    Marco shoved against the Chevillon¡¯s side, fumbling with the handle. ¡°It¡¯s locked!¡± He called out, panic rising.

    ¡°Hold on!¡± Vomi shouted, already pulling out her laptop again, her focus unwavering. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    The guards were regrouping, and Marco felt the pressure mounting. ¡°Hurry! They¡¯re coming!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Vomi snapped, fingers racing over the keyboard. ¡°Just keep an eye out!¡±

    Marco turned, aiming his rifle at the oncoming guards. He fired again, his aim wavering under the stress, but he managed to hit one in the arm. ¡°Come on, come on!¡± he urged, glancing back at Vomi.

    ¡°Almost there¡­ just a little more,¡± she muttered, her concentration fierce.

    Finally, with a beep, the Chevillon''s doors unlocked with a loud click. ¡°Got it!¡± Vomi exclaimed triumphantly. ¡°Now get in!¡±

    Marco wasted no time, yanking the door open and jumping inside. ¡°Now what?!¡± he shouted, scanning the interior.

    ¡°Start it up.¡± Vomi ordered, sliding into the passenger seat and already pulling up the security feed. ¡°We need to move before they figure out what¡¯s happening. Need to download the shards.¡±

    He fumbled with the ignition, heart racing as he was forced to hotwire the car. Enough time for Vanguard to suddenly appear in Vomi''s lap. The engine roared to life, and he slammed the gear into drive. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    ¡°Just keep your foot on the gas!¡± Vomi yelled as she glanced back. ¡°We¡¯ve got company!¡±

    Marco stepped on the gas, the Chevillon lurching forward as they tore out of the spot. He swerved to avoid a couple of guards who were now trying to block their escape.

    ¡°Right! Head for the back exit!¡± Vomi directed, still watching the monitors. ¡°We can lose them in the alleys!¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right!¡± Marco shot back, focusing on the road ahead. The pier was a maze of containers and tight corners, but he navigated through it, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

    As they barreled down a narrow path, Marco could hear the guards shouting behind them. ¡°They¡¯re not giving up easily! Woah!¡± He almost ran over a guard, thankfully avoiding it at the last second.

    ¡°Just keep going!¡± Vomi shouted, her eyes glued to the screen. ¡°We¡¯re almost clear!¡±

    The truck bounced over a pothole, and Marco gripped the wheel tighter. ¡°I¡¯m not stopping until we¡¯re out of here!¡±

    ¡°Good! Now floor it!¡± Vomi urged, and Marco did just that, pushing the Chevillon to its limits.

    Which isn''t much, given it''s an executive car.

    With a final turn, they shot out onto a side street, leaving the chaos of the pier behind. Marco let out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he was holding, glancing at Vomi, who was weirdly normal.

    ¡°Did we actually do it?¡± he asked, disbelief in his voice.

    A sharp crank could be heard just behind them.

    ¡°You had to say something, didn''t you?¡±, Vomi sighed.

    It was a cybered guard.

    That''s a problem.

    The guard had burst onto the street, gun raised and a wicked smile spread across his face. ¡°You think you can get away that easily?¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Marco shouted, slamming on the brakes just as the guard opened fire. Bullets peppered the side of the Chevillon, and the rear window shattered into a thousand pieces.

    ¡°Drive, Marco!¡± Vomi yelled, her voice sharp with urgency. ¡°Get us out of here!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± He yelled back, adrenaline spiking again as he hit the gas. The Chevillon roared forward, but the guard was relentless, sprinting after them, his enhanced cybernetics giving him an edge.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the nearest exit?¡± Marco shouted, weaving through alleys and side streets, desperately searching for an escape route.

    ¡°Keep going straight! I¡¯ll handle this!¡± Vomi snapped, pulling out her Nue and aiming out the window. ¡°I can take him out!¡±

    Before Marco could protest, she rolled down her window, bracing herself against the door. ¡°Just keep it steady!¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say!¡± he shouted, his heart racing as he dodged around a corner, narrowly avoiding a pile of crates. He felt the weight of the rifle behind him, the idea of using it gnawing at his mind.

    Vomi fired, but her aim was shaky; the guard was moving too fast. Her shot went wide, the bullet embedding itself into a nearby wall. ¡°Damn it!¡± she cursed, frustration evident in her voice.

    ¡°Let me try!¡± Marco shouted, twisting around to grab the rifle, but just as he did, Vomi¡¯s focus faltered.

    The guard had pulled out a grenade and tossed it right at them. Marco''s eyes went wide. ¡°Vomi! Look out!¡±

    In a split second, Vomi ducked, but the grenade exploded against the back of the Chevillon, sending a shockwave through the vehicle. Marco felt the truck lurch violently, the sound of metal screaming as the rear tires skidded.

    ¡°Shit!¡± he yelled, struggling to maintain control as the truck swerved dangerously. He could feel the panic rising, his breath coming in short gasps. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna make it!¡±

    ¡°Shut up and drive!¡± Vomi shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. But Marco could see the fear in her eyes, a rare crack in her otherwise confident demeanor.

    ¡°Why the hell did we think we could pull this off?!¡± Marco shouted back, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel.

    ¡°Because we didn''t have a choice!¡± Vomi snapped, leaning out the window again. This time, her shot connected, grazing the guard¡¯s shoulder. He stumbled, but it only slowed him down for a moment.

    Marco swerved again, barely avoiding another streetlight as he raced through the alley. ¡°You know, I¡¯m starting to think this might be a really bad idea!¡±

    ¡°Just keep moving!¡± Vomi barked, reloading her weapon. ¡°We need to buy some time!¡±

    As they sped down the street, Marco could see more guards converging in the distance. ¡°There¡¯s too many of them!¡± he cried out, panic bubbling in his throat.

    ¡°Stop whining and think! We need to lose them!¡± Vomi¡¯s focus was razor-sharp, but the tension in her voice was palpable.

    ¡°Yeah, easy for you to say!¡± he yelled, glancing nervously at the rearview mirror. ¡°That one¡¯s still coming!¡±

    The guard, relentless and determined, was gaining on them again. ¡°We need a plan! Now!¡± Marco shouted, feeling the pressure mounting.

    ¡°Pull up ahead!¡± Vomi pointed at a narrow alley up ahead. ¡°We can lose them in the side streets!¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡± Marco shouted, turning sharply into the alleyway. The tires squealed as they made the turn, and he fought to keep the Chevillon steady.

    But the guard wasn¡¯t far behind. ¡°He¡¯s right on us!¡± Marco shouted, his voice rising in panic. ¡°What do we do?!¡±

    ¡°Just keep going!¡± Vomi shouted, desperation creeping into her tone. ¡°I¡¯ll cover you!¡±

    She leaned out the window again, firing rapidly as they sped through the narrow streets. Marco could see the chaos unfolding in the rearview mirror ¡ª the guard was still in pursuit, but now another truck was closing in on them.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± Marco yelled, glancing at her. ¡°What the hell do we do if they catch us?!¡±

    ¡°Just trust me!¡± she snapped, her determination shining through the fear. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet!¡±

    But the truth was, Marco felt the weight of their predicament. The walls were closing in, and all he could do was drive as fast as he could, praying they¡¯d find a way out before it was too late.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± he shouted again, fear gripping him. ¡°I can¡¯t keep this up! They¡¯re going to catch us!¡±

    But as she shot back, the guard¡¯s bullets found their mark, hitting the side of the Chevillon with a sickening thud. Marco¡¯s heart dropped as he realized they were losing ground fast.

    ¡°Keep your head in the game, Marco!¡± Vomi yelled, but even she sounded uncertain now.

    But the vehicle had enough, the gas pedal no longer working as the car slowly but surely was going to stop.

    ¡°Fuck!¡±, Vomi said as she stepped out of the vehicle, Vanguard running up a set of stairs to watch from a safe distance.

    ¡°This time, you two can''t run away.¡±, The cyber guard stood firm, a sharp grip in the shotgun he just unholstered.

    Marco was still in the driver''s seat, desperately trying to make the car work again.

    ¡°Vomi! What are you doing? Get back in!¡± Marco shouted, panic bubbling over as he frantically tried the ignition again. The Chevillon sputtered and whined, but it was clear they were running out of options.

    ¡°Just go!¡± Vomi yelled back, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the guard. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this!¡±

    The guard chuckled darkly, his shotgun gleaming under the harsh streetlights. ¡°You think you can take me on? I¡¯ll enjoy making an example out of you.¡±

    ¡°Bring it on, tin can!¡± Vomi shot back, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She ducked behind the Chevillon, using it as cover as she pulled out her Nue, ready to fire. ¡°Just know that I don¡¯t go down without a fight!¡±

    ¡°Funny,¡± the guard said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°I was counting on that.¡±

    With a quick glance back at Marco, she yelled, ¡°I¡¯ll buy you some time! Just¡­ just get out of here!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid! We can¡¯t leave you!¡± Marco shouted, desperation creeping into his voice as he finally managed to get the engine to turn over, but it was sputtering more than anything else.

    ¡°Just drive!¡± Vomi insisted, her voice fierce. ¡°Now!¡±

    The guard took a step closer, his weapon trained on her. ¡°You¡¯re outnumbered and outgunned, sweetheart. This is a losing game.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s fingers tightened around her weapon, her heart pounding in her chest. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± she growled, determination flooding her. ¡°I¡¯m not going down without a fight!¡±

    Before she could think twice, she stepped out from behind the car, taking aim at the guard. She fired, but he moved like a shadow, dodging her shot with uncanny speed.

    ¡°Nice try!¡± he taunted, his grin widening. He fired back, the blast of the shotgun echoing through the alley, and Vomi barely managed to duck in time. The pellets rained down around her, ricocheting off the Chevillon and sending shards of metal flying.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± Marco shouted, his voice filled with fear as he struggled with the vehicle. ¡°Get back in!¡±

    ¡°Not a chance!¡± she yelled, firing again, this time catching the guard in the shoulder. He grunted but didn¡¯t go down. ¡°Come on, you piece of junk!¡± she cursed at her weapon, frantically trying to reload while keeping her eyes on the guard.

    ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡± he laughed, taking a few steps forward, ignoring the blood trickling from his shoulder. ¡°I expected more from you.¡±

    Vomi gritted her teeth, feeling the weight of her determination slip as he approached. ¡°You¡¯re not walking away from this,¡± she shot back, her voice steadier than she felt.

    But as she aimed again, her weapon clicked empty, the final sound echoing in the tension-filled air. Which was impossible as she just reloaded her gun.

    *CRUNCH*

    The guard took the opportunity to charge her, and Vomi barely had time to react. He swung the shotgun, the butt crashing into her side and sending her sprawling to the ground, ¡°The best quick hack for the job. Gun Jammer.¡±

    ¡°Vomi!¡± Marco screamed, the panic finally breaking through the noise in his head. He threw the door open, ready to jump out, but Vomi¡¯s eyes locked onto his, and she shook her head, desperately trying to convey the message.

    The guard stood over her, the shotgun leveled at her. ¡°This is where it ends, little girl,¡± he sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger.

    But in that moment, everything shifted. Vomi scrambled to her feet, adrenaline fueling her, but it was too late. The guard pulled the trigger, the shot ringing out like a death knell. She hit the ground hard, gasping, pain flashing across her features.

    ¡°Get away from her!¡± Marco roared, his hands trembling as he reached for the sniper rifle, desperation clawing at his chest. But the guard was already closing in, reveling in his victory.

    He just slapped the corpo on the face, enough to make him fall to the ground, ¡°I can''t kill you, corpo scum, but I at least can enjoy leaving you almost like a pool of blood.¡±

    ¡°Some things never change.¡±

    What?

    What voice was that?

    Why was it so menacing?

    Why there were black tendrils coming from Vomi''s corpse?

    The monowires, or whatever those tendrils were, enveloped her body, covering every part that was bleeding, replacing her clothes with that black goo.

    ¡°There''s always a white knight that just can''t leave a damsel in distress.¡±

    The voice¡­ it came from her?

    ¡°The fuck?¡±, The cyber guard looked at the corpse, now standing up and staring at his soul.

    And that was the last thing that man saw in his life.

 Chapter 9: Wasted

    Pain. Hesitation.

    These two things filled Vomi''s mind as she lay there on the ground. She kept telling Marco to just run, escape so she could do her thing, because her gun wasn''t going to make any difference. Whatever chrome the cyber guard has was enough to make the Nue useless. Symbiote powers needed to be used, but the not-so-corpo corpo decided that he was going to enact his inner hero all of a sudden. And if being honest? He was terrible. It was a mistake to bring him along now that she realizes. Too nervous, too hesitant, too loud, too slow.

    That angered her.

    Vanguard felt that anger, the pain and the desire to just be stronger. Vomi¡¯s biology was higher than the general individual, yes, but that does mean she was invincible. Against a borged out gonk? She wasn''t as dominant in her attacks, even more when the guy had some Sandevistan to boost whenever she tried to shoot him. But what was the final nail in the coffin was the stupidity of Marco.  Why didn''t he just leave? Why didn''t he delta and act like a normal corpo would? Why was he so obsessed with being a hero?

    Vanguard merged back with her, the symbiote healing any injuries she got from the chase and the fight, tendrils enveloping her with the usual appearance a symbiote suit would, even the spider logo being present. From forehead to toe, she was covered in the black biomass, the Bio Weapon showing its colors for the first time, only her natural hair being a semblance of her humanity.

    And it was pissed.

    ¡°Some things never change.¡±, Vomi commented as she cracked her neck, the bullet that was inside her falling to the ground, ¡°There''s always a white knight that just can''t leave a damsel in distress.¡±

    ¡°The fuck¡­?!!¡±, The cyber guard gasped as the incomprehensible horror stood in front of him.

    Before he could do anything a single motion of Vomi''s shoulder was enough to send a tendril at his neck, lifting his whole body up. The symbiote got closer, each step echoing in the alley as the man squirmed, trying to either shoot her or the tendrils. It was no use, since the bioware wasn''t exactly bullet damageable, staying where it needed for its owner to enact the riposte needed.

    One punch.

    One punch was all it took for a new hole to appear in the man''s rib cage, Vomi''s fist going from front to back, blood and wires falling to the ground as a waterfall of red paint. She removed her fist, the man still hanging from the tendril.

    And she just let it loose.

    The punches were so fast and so precise that Marco, who was speechless at the entire thing, could only see blurs of black moving, all the while Vomi''s face showed nothing but a calm fury. Collected, yet poisonous.

    Animus. Venomous.

    It reached a point where only the upper half of the poor guard''s body was left, the tendril keeping him suspended like a trophy. Blood dripped onto the pavement, pooling beneath him in a grotesque display.

    Vomi stepped back, breathing heavily as the adrenaline coursed through her. ¡°Pathetic,¡± she spat, looking at the lifeless remains. ¡°This is what happens when you underestimate me.¡±

    Marco finally found his voice, though it came out shaky. ¡°Vomi¡­ is that¡­ you?¡±

    She turned to him, her eyes glimmering with a fierce intensity. ¡°Get the fucking shards. I''ll check them when we are clear.¡±

    ¡°But you¡ª¡± he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the transformation he had just witnessed. ¡°You di¡ª¡±

    ¡°No ¡®buts¡¯!¡± She snapped, the symbiote¡¯s tendrils flickering irritably around her. ¡°You wanted to play the hero, and look where that got us. If you hadn¡¯t hesitated, we might have had a chance.¡±

    The words stung, and Marco took a step back, feeling the weight of her anger. ¡°I just wanted to help,¡± he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Marco? Where do you think you should be doing right now?¡±

    He clenched his fists, ¡°The shards?¡±

    ¡°The shards!¡±

    Marco didn''t need to be told thrice. Whatever she had turned right now wasn''t worth getting flatlined over, getting to the car and picking up the shards. The Chevillon¡¯s shards were scattered around so he needed time to pick them up, much to Vomi''s annoyance as she tapped her foot on the ground, each tap making a menacing thud.

    ¡°Got ¡®em!¡±, He said as he pocketed the shard.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    A tendril flew towards Marco and he immediately thought he would be the next victim, but instead of picking up his neck, it enveloped him enough so it wouldn''t hurt him. Vomi immediately jumped, another set of tendrils making her sling from place to place, all the while Marco screamed in terror. Eventually his mouth was shut thanks to more black goo covering it, but that''s not important right now.

    They eventually landed far away, truly far away, Marco thanking the Gods he could feel the ground again, while Vomi''s symbiote slowly merged back to her flesh, until a very familiar cat formed in her shoulder.

    ¡°You owe me more than you think.¡±, Vomi pointed a finger at him.

    ¡°Bringing him along was a mistake.¡±, Vanguard commented aloud as he gave the same judge full eyes any cat can give.

    ¡°My mistake was not getting countermeasures for quick hacks.¡±, She muttered, ¡°But I agree. That was a stupid mistake.¡±

    ¡°W-what? The cat talks?!¡±

    ¡°Is that really your main concern right now?¡±, Vanguard raised an eyebrow, still thinking the human might just be mentally disabled.

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s not my main concern! But you just¡­ you just transformed into some kind of monster!¡± Marco exclaimed, still grappling with the whirlwind of events.

    ¡°Yeah, and it worked, didn¡¯t it?¡± Vomi shot back, crossing her arms as she surveyed their surroundings. ¡°But next time, try not to mess it up.¡±

    ¡°Next time? You think there¡¯s going to be a next time?¡± he said incredulously, his heart still racing from the adrenaline. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can handle another situation like that.¡±

    ¡°Then maybe you should have stayed behind,¡± Vomi replied, her tone clipped. ¡°You wanted to be a hero, but you nearly got us both killed.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I was trying to help!¡± Marco protested, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to pull me into this mess!¡±

    Vanguard yawned lazily from Vomi¡¯s shoulder, unfazed by their bickering. ¡°You two really need to work on your teamwork. There¡¯s a reason the word ¡®team¡¯ is in there.¡±

    Vomi shot a glare at the cat, then turned back to Marco. ¡°Look, we need to focus. We can¡¯t afford to get caught again. Those guards will be looking for us.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Marco took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°You fucking tell me.¡±, She shrugged, ¡°The gig is yours. What are you going to do with the shards?¡±

    ¡°Handle them to my boss. He knows what''s up.¡±, He said, still bewildered by what is happening right now and what just happened.

    A talking cat, and a monster woman.

    ¡°Who''s your boss?¡±, Vanguard asked as he now climbed Vomi''s head, settling there for now.

    ¡°Uh? Oh, it''s Schmidt Demir. President of the GRM Company. Security investigations, protocols and retrieval.¡±, Marco scratched his head as he explained, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Is he at his office right now?¡±, Vomi asked as she readjusted her glasses, frown still deep.

    ¡°Probably? He is not famous for leaving it for long periods of time.¡± He replied, still confused.

    ¡°Preem.¡±

    Before anything, another sharp tendril met Marco''s face, hitting him directly in the brain. The body fell to the ground lifeless in a single go, Vomi already hacking his agent to meet this so-called Schmidt Demir. She was going to deliver the shards personally, because no way someone that knew her and Vanguard''s powers could roam free. Optics made sure everything they saw was recorded, that''s why she eviscerated the cyber guard until there was nothing salvageable. Marco was a terrible handler, so better do things herself.

    The tendril returned to Vanguard''s cat figure, with no blood, of course, ¡°That''s the end of that.

    Marco''s corpse was... Depressing.

    "Sorry not sorry Marco. Time to meet your boss and get this biz finished. I want my eddies, my rest, and some booze to finish it.¡±, She sighed, ¡°Of course my day off needed to have this bullshit.¡±

    ¡°Now now,¡±, Vanguard called, ¡°The more we complain the longer it takes to finish the gig.¡±

    ¡°Fiiiiine.¡±, Vomi called up her Colby, the car taking a few minutes to show up, ¡°If I had this tech in my past life I''d never use an Uber.¡±

    Vang jumped out of her head to the passenger seat, his usual spot, ¡°This was too messy. We need to take care that we aren''t followed, or that any video captured our outburst.¡±

    ¡°Already on it.¡±, The strokes on the keyboard were the only confirmation the cat needed.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Vomi slid into the driver¡¯s seat of the Colby, her fingers flying over the laptop interface as she activated the breaching security protocols. The screen lit up, displaying a feed of nearby surveillance cameras, each flickering to life under her command.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if we¡¯re clear,¡± she muttered, scanning the feeds. Vanguard lounged in the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed, watching her work with an air of lazy confidence.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t get us blown up, okay?¡± he quipped.

    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± Vomi shot back, not taking her eyes off the screens. ¡°You¡¯ll be my first target if we get ambushed.¡±

    Vanguard chuckled softly. ¡°You know I¡¯d be a hard one to catch.¡±

    As she analyzed the feeds, Vomi felt a rush of irritation at the chaos of the day. She had been on a simple retrieval mission, and now she was neck-deep in trouble with a blabbering corpo and a potential bounty on her head. A sigh escaped her lips as she toggled through the feeds, looking for anything suspicious. They just got away from Militech and BioTechnica, so every measure was needed.

    ¡°Looks clear for now,¡± she said, pulling the car out of the alley. ¡°But we need to keep moving. I don¡¯t want to stick around long enough for someone to catch wind of what we just pulled.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Vanguard said, his tone more serious now. ¡°We can¡¯t risk being followed. If they trace us back to Marco or the warehouse, we¡¯ll be in deeper trouble than we already are.¡±

    Vomi nodded, pushing the car to a steady pace as they drove through the winding streets of San Francisco. The neon lights blurred past them, and she felt a momentary flicker of normalcy amidst the chaos.

    ¡°Just keep an eye on the rearview,¡± she instructed, her voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ll focus on getting us to Demir¡¯s office. If we can hand over the shards without any more drama, we might just get through this unscathed.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Vanguard replied, settling back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the road behind them.

    As they navigated the city, Vomi¡¯s mind raced. She had transformed into something darker, more powerful, and it felt good. Intoxicating. The fact that she was in complete control over the situation, sent both chills down her spine and a new sense of status quo, one where she was at the top, and everyone else below.

    And that¡­ didn''t settle right. Nor because she was weirded out by it, but because it felt¡­ normal.

    And Vomi knew it wasn''t normal to think that.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Vanguard said, breaking her train of thought. ¡°You okay? You seem a little¡­ distracted.¡±

    ¡°Just thinking about what happened,¡± she admitted, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

    Vanguard tilted his head, his expression shifting to something more serious. ¡°You don¡¯t have to shoulder it all alone. You¡¯ve got me. I¡¯ll help you control it.¡±

    She shot him a grateful glance. ¡°Thanks. I just don¡¯t want to lose myself in it. The power felt¡­ great.¡±

    ¡°Trust me,¡± he said, his voice steady. ¡°You won¡¯t. You¡¯re stronger than that.¡±

    With a nod, Vomi refocused on the road ahead. They were getting closer to Demir¡¯s office, and with it, the promise of a safe haven and some much-needed clarity.

    As they turned onto a main thoroughfare, the gleaming glass of the GRM Company headquarters came into view. ¡°There it is,¡± Vomi said, her heart racing with anticipation. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±

    They parked the Colby in a dimly lit corner of the parking lot and exited the vehicle, the low hum of the city surrounding them. Vomi took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. With Vanguard by her side, she felt a flicker of confidence return.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go collect my payment,¡± she said, her voice low and fierce. They moved toward the entrance, the weight of the shards in her pocket serving as a reminder of the chaos they had just escaped.

    <hr>

    ¡°And you are?¡±, An office man asked at the obvious not corpo Vomi and her feline companion.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Doesn''t matter. Have biz with your boss, Demir.¡±

    ¡°I hardly think someone of your caste has even his contact.¡±, The man snickered.

    As a response, she called Schmidt, her eyes flashing yellow. The man obviously didn''t respond, but Vomi wasn''t in the mood anymore. This day was completely and utterly disaster after disaster, so why not cause a bit of a fuss on her own?

    Vomi crossed her arms, feeling the tension rise. ¡°Listen, buddy. I don¡¯t have time for your bullshit. Just tell Demir I¡¯m here. We¡¯ve got business to settle.¡±

    The office drone chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he was about to enjoy a show. ¡°And why would he want to meet with you? You look like you just crawled out of a gutter.¡±

    ¡°Cute,¡± she shot back, glaring at him. ¡°But I didn¡¯t just crawl out. I just took out a cyber guard, and I¡¯m not exactly in the mood to play nice. So unless you want me to rearrange your face, I suggest you call him.¡±

    The office guy raised an eyebrow, but Vomi could see the unease creeping in. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. ¡°You think I¡¯m kidding? I¡¯ve had a rough day, and I¡¯m not in the mood for your games. So either you call Demir, or I can make this a lot more interesting for both of us.¡±

    He hesitated, glancing at the phone like it might bite him. ¡°Fine, fine. Just¡­ wait here.¡±

    As he reached for the phone, Vomi smirked. ¡°See? That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe a bit too hard,¡± Vanguard muttered, still looking bored. ¡°You really should work on your charm.¡±

    ¡°Charm is overrated,¡± Vomi replied, crossing her arms. ¡°Besides, I¡¯d rather be feared than liked. Keeps the gonks at bay.¡±

    ¡°True, but a little charm wouldn¡¯t hurt now and then,¡± he said, flicking his tail nonchalantly. ¡°You know, just to keep things interesting.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯ll save the charm for when I actually need it.¡± She turned her attention back to the office guy, who was nervously pressing buttons on the phone, glancing at her every few seconds like she was a ticking time bomb.

    After a moment, he finally spoke into the receiver. ¡°Uh, Mr. Demir? There¡¯s someone here to see you. She¡ª¡±

    Vomi cut him off with a finger held up. ¡°Tell him it¡¯s Vomi. He¡¯ll know who I am.¡±

    The man blinked, clearly surprised. ¡°Uh, right. Vomi. Got it.¡±

    A moment later, he hung up and looked at her, the previous cockiness replaced by a hint of fear. ¡°He¡¯ll see you now.¡±

    ¡°Good choice,¡± she said, giving him a smirk as she stepped past him. Vanguard hopped off her shoulder, landing gracefully on the floor, and they made their way down the sleek, modern hallway lined with glass panels and abstract art.

    ¡°Remember, don¡¯t cause too much of a scene,¡± Vanguard said as they approached the office door. ¡°We want this to go smoothly.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m all about smooth.¡± Vomi rolled her eyes but felt a flicker of anticipation. She had the shards, and soon she¡¯d be cashing in on her chaos¡ªif only for a drink and a moment¡¯s peace.

    With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, stepping into the opulence of Demir¡¯s office. The president of GRM Company sat behind an expansive desk, the glow of city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

    ¡°Vomi,¡± he said, looking up with a mix of curiosity and concern. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting you here so soon. I take it things didn¡¯t go according to Marco''s plan?¡±

    She didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°You have no fucking idea.¡±

    Demir leaned back in his chair, a brow raised. ¡°I figured it was something like that. You look like you¡¯ve been through hell.¡±

    ¡°More like I just dragged it along for the ride,¡± Vomi shot back, tossing the shards onto his desk with a clatter. ¡°I took care of the cyber guard. You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± He eyed the shards with interest. ¡°And I take it Marco didn¡¯t make it?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say he wasn¡¯t cut out for the job. It¡¯s a long story, but I don¡¯t have the energy to recount it. Just know I handled it.¡±

    Demir¡¯s expression shifted, something like respect creeping into his gaze. ¡°I see. You¡¯re not just a pretty face, then.¡±

    ¡°Flattery will get you nowhere, Demir.¡± She leaned against the desk, crossing her arms, trying to project confidence despite the exhaustion tugging at her. ¡°What¡¯s the payout for these?¡±

    ¡°Straight to business, I like it.¡± He tapped a button on his desk, and a small screen flickered to life, displaying a series of numbers. ¡°For the shards, I can offer you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Cut the shit, I know what they¡¯re worth,¡± she interrupted, irritation rising. ¡°I want fair compensation, not your corpo bullshit.¡±

    Demir chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ¡°Fair enough. How about twenty percent more than the agreed price with Marco?¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re talking.¡± Vomi nodded, feeling a sense of satisfaction. ¡°And don¡¯t think I won¡¯t come back for more if you try to lowball me.¡±

    ¡°Understood. You¡¯ve made quite the impression today.¡±

    And true to his words, eddies came to her bank account, her Agent showing at least five digits worth of pay.

    ¡°Good. Now, about Marco¡­¡±

    ¡°Forget him,¡± Demir said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. ¡°He made his choices. You¡¯re the one who delivered. That¡¯s what matters.¡±

    Vomi felt a flicker of irritation at the dismissal but pushed it aside. ¡°Fair enough. Just thought I¡¯d mention it.¡±

    As she turned to leave, Demir¡¯s voice stopped her. ¡°Vomi.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Keep your head on a swivel out there. You¡¯ve made some powerful enemies.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, don''t even remember that to me.¡±

    With that, she stepped out of the office, feeling the adrenaline from earlier start to fade, replaced by a sense of victory. Vanguard hopped back onto her shoulder, looking pleased. ¡°Not too shabby. You handled that like a pro.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m not done yet. I need a drink.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hit up that bar we like,¡± he suggested, stretching luxuriously. ¡°You deserve it after today¡¯s chaos.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn''t even have accepted this gig.¡±, She yawned, ¡°It was supposed to be a rest day.¡±

    ¡°Look at the bright side, our resume will look even more impressive for M-Tech''s HR.¡±

    ¡°I couldn''t care less about that as I do right now.¡±, She deadpanned.

    <hr>

    Again, at the bar she went the first time, whoever now at night, the bar had way more people than this morning. She made sure to remind herself and refuse any and every single offer for a gig for a while. Eddies weren''t a problem, and street cred was also at an all-time high. All she needed was booze, food, fun and some small talk.

    As she stepped into the bar, the familiar sights and sounds of the nightlife enveloped her. The low thrum of music mixed with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Vomi inhaled deeply, letting the vibrant atmosphere wash over her. ¡°This is more like it,¡± she said, scanning the crowd.

    ¡°Much better than that stuffy office,¡± Vanguard chimed in, his voice a playful tease. ¡°No chance of some corpo stiff looking down his nose at us here.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Vomi made her way to the bar, pushing her way through the throng of patrons. ¡°I need a strong drink. Something to drown out the day¡¯s bullshit.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that logic.¡± Vanguard flicked his tail in agreement. ¡°I¡¯ll take a shot of something too¡ªdon¡¯t forget your favorite talking cat needs to unwind!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. One drink coming up,¡± she replied, settling onto a barstool. The bartender approached, wiping down the counter.

    ¡°What can I get for you?¡± he asked, eyeing her with a mix of recognition and curiosity.

    ¡°Something strong. And a shot for my buddy here,¡± she said, gesturing to Vanguard.

    ¡°Coming right up.¡± The bartender nodded and set to work.

    ¡°So,¡± Vanguard said, breaking the brief silence. ¡°You¡¯ve taken out a cyber guard and collected your payment. Got any plans now?¡±

    ¡°Honestly? Just want to relax for a bit. Maybe catch up with some folks,¡± she said, her eyes drifting to the crowd. ¡°After today, I think I¡¯ve earned a little fun.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but you know how it goes. The moment you let your guard down, someone will want to pick a fight,¡± he replied, his tone teasing but laced with concern.

    ¡°Let them try. I¡¯m not in the mood to play nice anymore.¡± The bartender returned, sliding her drink and a smaller shot of milk to Vanguard.

    ¡°I didn''t know what to expect.¡±, Vang admitted.

    ¡°Cheers!¡± she said, raising her glass.

    ¡°Cheers to surviving another day in this hellhole,¡± Vanguard said, taking a sip. ¡°And to the most chaotic day off I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    ¡°Right? What¡¯s the point of a day off if you¡¯re just going to end up knee-deep in trouble?¡± Vomi downed her drink in one go, savoring the burn. ¡°I mean, I could¡¯ve been at home binge-watching BD-Shows. Instead, I¡¯m here, nursing a hangover in the making.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not forget, it¡¯s also an opportunity to show off your new symbiote powers,¡± he teased, leaning in closer. ¡°I bet some folks here would pay to see that.¡±

    ¡°As if.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t let it go to your head. Remember what happened last time you tried to impress someone,¡± Vanguard chuckled, remembering a particularly reckless night where Vomi had challenged a group of nomads to a drinking contest. ¡°I¡¯m still amazed you survived that.¡±

    ¡°Hey, it was a fun night! Until I woke up with a cyber arm in my bed and no memory of how it got there.¡± She shrugged, grinning. ¡°Did I have sex with anyone?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Thank God.¡±, The man inside Vomi sighed in relief, ¡°Still pure.¡±

    ¡°Pure, right,¡± Vanguard replied, flicking his tail thoughtfully. ¡°But maybe this time, let¡¯s skip the crazy stunts and just enjoy ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Deal. But I¡¯m definitely getting another drink first.¡± She signaled to the bartender for a refill, already looking forward to the momentary escape it would bring.

    Then, another set of Samurai songs started playing in the bar, some people groaned, some didn''t mind, others really went on it. Vomi was one of the people who just turned to the jukebox and started yelling the first few lyrics of the song.

    In this case, The Ballad of Buck Ravers.

    ¡°Lost another day to pointless drudgery!¡±

    The scientist''s voice was so rough that even some of the wannabe rockerboys were hyped by the song.

    Vomi threw her head back, belting out the lyrics with reckless abandon, the music pulsing through her veins. She couldn¡¯t help but smile as more people joined in, the bar transforming into a temporary concert hall. ¡°Need a way to set it straight!¡± she sang, the catchy chorus making her forget the day¡¯s chaos.

    As the song reached its peak, she noticed a figure at the edge of the bar, a man leaning casually against the wall, a grin spreading across his face as he watched her with an amused expression. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and the leather jacket he wore had seen better days, but somehow, it suited him.

    ¡°Hey! Nice voice!¡± he shouted over the music when she caught his gaze.

    Vomi stopped mid-verse, a little taken aback. ¡°Thanks!¡± she called back, feeling a rush creep up her neck. ¡°You should join me up here!¡±

    He pushed off the wall and swaggered over, effortlessly sliding into the rhythm of the song as he approached. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll leave the spotlight to you. You¡¯re killing it!¡± He leaned on the bar, his body language relaxed, but his eyes were bright and lively. ¡°Name¡¯s Thiago.¡±

    ¡°Vomi,¡± she replied, matching his energy. ¡°You a fan of Samurai, or just enjoying the show?¡±

    ¡°A bit of both,¡± he said, giving her a playful smile. ¡°But honestly, it¡¯s more fun watching you tear it up. It¡¯s not every day you see someone bring a bar to life.¡±

    Vanguard, perched on her shoulder, signaled that he was okay to talk with.

    ¡°Well, yeah. I needed something strong here, but I wasn''t challenged since.¡±, She showed the empty cup of booze.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Thiago raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. ¡°I¡¯m all about a good challenge.¡±

    ¡°Challenge accepted!¡± Vomi laughed, leaning closer. ¡°But fair warning, I¡¯m not just all talk. I can hold my liquor.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s put that to the test then,¡± he replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°What¡¯s your poison?¡±

    ¡°Anything with a kick,¡± she said, throwing him a shrug. ¡°I need something to wash down the memory of that hellhole I just crawled out of.¡±

    ¡°Coming right up,¡± he said, signaling the bartender. ¡°Two shots of whatever¡¯s the strongest.¡±

    As the bartender poured the drinks, Vanguard whispered, ¡°You might want to pace yourself. You don¡¯t want to wake up with another mystery limb.¡±

    Vomi shot him a glare. ¡°Shut it. This is my night to have fun.¡±

    Thiago picked up the shots, handing one to her. ¡°To making bad decisions and living life to the fullest!¡± He clinked his glass against hers, and they downed the shots simultaneously, the burn igniting a thrill in her.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about!¡± she said, wiping her mouth with a grin. ¡°You¡¯re not half bad, Thiago.¡±

    ¡°Just wait until you see me dance,¡± he replied, stepping back and gesturing to the floor. ¡°You might want to keep a safe distance.¡±

    Vomi laughed, a sense of camaraderie building. ¡°Bring it on! But just remember, I won¡¯t be responsible for any injuries.¡±

    As the next song started, Thiago pulled her into the crowd, dancing like he was born for it. Vomi let herself be swept away, her earlier worries fading into the background as the music enveloped her.

    ¡°See? This is way better than sulking at home!¡± Thiago shouted over the beat, flashing a wide grin.

    ¡°Way better!¡± Vomi agreed, feeling lighter than she had all day. She twirled and spun, enjoying the freedom of the moment, with Vanguard watching on, pleased with her newfound spirit.

    Then it was chaos.

    Blackjack, drinks, poker, drinks, darts, singing more songs, some that Vomi didn''t even know, but liked anyway, and to finish it off, even more drinks.

    Vanguard was starting to feel concerned.

    Even more when Vomi was absolutely drunk.

    ¡°Need another one¡­¡±, The woman glanced at her empty bottle.

    ¡°I can''t drink anymore. I think I am¡ª¡±

    Thiago puked, thankfully on a trash can.

    ¡°Our lives won''t like us.¡±

    ¡°We can chrome new ones.¡±

    Vomi slurred through her laughter as she leaned against the bar, her eyes half-lidded but still gleaming with the night¡¯s adrenaline. ¡°Yeah, chrome new lives, new livers. Who cares? We survived this long, right?¡±

    Thiago groaned from his spot, still hugging the trash can. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ insane, you know that?¡±

    ¡°Tell me something I don¡¯t know,¡± she shot back, grinning widely. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not the one puking up half my drinks. Lightweight.¡±

    ¡°Lightweight?!¡± He looked up, wiping his mouth. ¡°I¡¯d challenge you again, but I think I¡¯d die.¡±

    ¡°Smart choice,¡± Vanguard finally spoke up from the bar stool, watching Vomi with growing concern. ¡°Vomi, you¡¯ve reached your limit.¡±

    Thiago looked at Vanguard, ¡°Heh, talking cat.¡±, Before puking again.

    ¡°He won''t remember me.¡±, The symbiote cat nodded at himself.

    ¡°Who asked you, kitty?¡± she muttered, her balance wavering slightly. ¡°This is my night. I¡¯m gonna have all the drinks I want.¡±

    Vanguard flicked his tail, clearly unimpressed. ¡°I¡¯m not dragging your drunk ass home if you pass out, you know.¡±

    Thiago chuckled weakly. ¡°I¡¯ll help. If I can even stand up¡­¡±

    Vomi waved them both off and started humming the tune of another Samurai song, her head spinning pleasantly from the alcohol. ¡°Okay, okay, fine. Maybe I¡¯ve had enough¡­ but just maybe.¡±

    ¡°Definitely enough,¡± Vanguard corrected. ¡°How about we get you some water before you chrome that liver you¡¯re talking about?¡±

    Thiago gave a half-hearted thumbs up. ¡°Water sounds like a good plan. After¡­ whatever just happened.¡±

    Vomi sat down heavily on the nearest stool, glancing at her new drinking buddy. ¡°You¡¯re not half bad, Thiago. You sure you don¡¯t wanna keep this party going?¡±

    He groaned, holding his head. ¡°Maybe tomorrow. If I survive the night.¡±

    ¡°Coward,¡± she teased with a grin.

    Thiago managed a weak laugh before waving down the bartender. ¡°Water for both of us. I think we¡¯re done for the night.¡±

    As the bartender set two glasses of water in front of them, Vomi stared at her reflection in the clear liquid for a moment. The day¡¯s chaos, the symbiote, the fight with Marco¡ªnone of it mattered in this moment. Here, in the bar with a new friend, a talking cat, and some cheap booze, she felt free. The weight of her world had been lifted, if only for a little while.

    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± she finally said, grabbing the glass and raising it toward Thiago. ¡°To surviving today. And maybe tomorrow, too.¡±

    Thiago clinked his water glass against hers with a shaky smile. ¡°To not dying of alcohol poisoning.¡±

    Vanguard sighed but couldn¡¯t help the small smile tugging at his whiskers. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s as good a toast as any.¡±

    As they drank, the bar buzzed around them, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Vomi felt at peace. Just a little longer, she thought. Just a little longer before the chaos returns.

 Chapter 10: A New Band

    ¡°I don''t remember anything from last night.¡±

    Vomi groaned, staring up at the ceiling, her forearm resting over her eyes as she tried to push through the lingering hangover. It wasn''t too bad¡ªthanks to whatever strange biology she had now¡ªbut it still sucked. Begrudgingly, she rolled out of bed, only to faceplant onto the floor.

    ¡°Of course,¡± she muttered into the carpet, feeling the impact vibrate through her skull.

    After a few deep breaths, she pushed herself up and realized she was only in a tank top and panties. Great. Just another layer of what the fuck happened from last night.

    Nice.

    Shuffling to the bathroom, she managed to get the water running without breaking anything or falling again. The cold water was like a slap to the face, but it helped. Once done, she threw on some baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, wrapping herself in a blanket cocoon as she stumbled into the kitchen. Coffee. She needed coffee.

    As the machine slowly filled her mug, she stared blankly at the liquid, feeling her brain reboot at a snail¡¯s pace. After a long, satisfying sip, she grabbed her laptop, sitting down to see if M-Tech¡¯s HR team had responded yet. Hopefully, she could land some easy Netrunner gig to ease back into things. The main objective was still out there, but she wasn¡¯t ready for that just yet.

    Instead of HR replies, she got a surprise. A message from Thiago.

    Thiago: You gave me your number last night, hope you don''t mind me sending the first text. You¡¯re a really good Rockergirl, you know that? Would be nice to have you in some places. Now, I know you''re busy, but when you can, text me, okay? C-YA, choom.

    Vomi stared at the message for a second, sipping her coffee. ¡°Did I give him my number?¡±

    Vanguard snickered from his spot on the counter, ¡°Oh yeah, you were on a roll last night. Really leaning into the party life.¡±

    ¡°Ugh,¡± she groaned, rubbing her temples. ¡°Did I sleep with anyone?¡±

    ¡°Nope, but you made quite the impression. I mean, no one tried kidnapping you, so that¡¯s a win.¡±

    ¡°Good. Last thing I need is dealing with scavs.¡±

    ¡°Not that you couldn''t handle them.¡± Vanguard stretched, flicking his tail. ¡°But yeah, you were... happier than usual. First time I¡¯ve seen you let loose since we... ya know, bonded.¡±

    Vomi shrugged, barely looking up from her laptop as she found a small Netrunner gig that didn¡¯t look too taxing. ¡°Cool.¡±

    Vanguard frowned, hopping onto the table, watching her type. ¡°Really? That¡¯s all you¡¯ve got to say?¡±

    ¡°Hangover,¡± she grumbled, taking another long sip of her coffee. ¡°Brain¡¯s not functioning yet.¡±

    The cat sighed dramatically. ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t forget, you¡¯ve got that M-Tech interview. You should probably look human for that.¡±

    ¡°Hmhmm.¡± She waved him off, already engrossed in the job details.

    Vanguard shook his head, mumbling, ¡°You¡¯ll thank me later.¡±

    Vomi sat there, fingers lazily scrolling through her laptop screen, eyes half-open. The hangover had morphed into something tolerable, but the grogginess was still hanging on like a bad software glitch. She found a small-time data breach job that would pay decently enough. Easy work, low risk¡ªjust the kind of thing she needed to get her brain functioning again.

    Another ping hit her inbox. This time, it was from M-Tech¡¯s HR department.

    M-Tech HR: We¡¯ve confirmed your interview for today sharp. Please ensure you have your CV and references ready. We look forward to meeting you.

    She checked the clock on the laptop.

    07:00

    ¡°Ah, shit,¡± she muttered, setting down her coffee. That interview was going to come quick. And she needed to prep.

    ¡°You got that message, right?¡± Vanguard said, watching her from the table with his unblinking cat eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t just wing it.¡±

    ¡°I can wing it,¡± she mumbled, though she wasn¡¯t really sure she could.

    ¡°Vomi, you¡¯ll need more than I¡¯m a badass netrunner with a symbiote to impress them. Remember, this is corporate. You need to pretend to be... you know, normal.¡±

    ¡°Normal¡¯s overrated,¡± she groaned, rubbing her forehead. ¡°But yeah, I guess I should at least pretend I¡¯ve got my shit together.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± Vanguard teased, flicking his tail playfully. ¡°At least take a shower before you go, huh?¡±

    She gave him a deadpan look. ¡°I just took one.¡±

    ¡°Right. Well, maybe another wouldn¡¯t hurt. You look like you got hit by a Nomad truck.¡±

    ¡°I feel like I got hit by one too.¡±

    Vomi sighed and forced herself to sit up a little straighter. She glanced at her Agent''s inbox again, her finger hovering over Thiago¡¯s message. Was she really going to respond? They had fun last night¡ªapparently¡ªbut she wasn¡¯t in the mood for anything more complicated than a cold drink and a solid payout. Could he even be? After all, he is now a she, so¡­

    Nah.

    But maybe one little message wouldn¡¯t hurt.

    She typed out a quick reply:

    Vomi: Hey, thanks for last night. I was way more hammered than I thought. Catch up later, maybe.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± Vanguard said, peeking at the screen. ¡°Now you just have to survive that interview.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered, closing her laptop and finishing off her coffee. ¡°First things first: I need food.¡±

    ¡°Smart move. Let¡¯s fuel up before we tackle the world.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll try not to ruin this day too,¡± she joked, though there was some truth behind it. After everything yesterday, she could really use a calm day.

    But as she stepped into her small kitchen to grab a snack, the agent on her wrist buzzed. A new message popped up. Unknown sender. Great.

    Unknown: Got a gig. Your skills. Interested?

    She narrowed her eyes at the screen. ¡°Guess calm isn¡¯t in the cards today.¡±

    Vanguard snickered. ¡°Did you really expect anything less?¡±

    Vomi sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. ¡°Nope. But at least I¡¯ve got coffee.¡±

    ¡°Well, we have an hour to do that, one to dress up for the interview.¡±

    ¡°All that to find a missing corpo. I''m never going to the HustleNet for anything that takes more than a day, ever.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    <hr>

    Thankfully, the gig could be done remotely, so Vomit didn''t need to leave her apartment to work on it. It was a NetChair job, one of those where she was just watching cameras, using Ping of her laptop to tell where the gonks are so the field crew can just do whatever they need to do. In this case, it was an assassination, clearing all hostiles in the area and all that. Fine by Vomi, she wasn''t in the mood to shoot after her gun was jammed mid combat.

    Weapon Glitch, a famous quick hack used by NetGunners. The worst part was that you didn''t even need to be good to use the hack, just a decent Cyberdeck. Something she is going to deal with later.

    For now, Netrunning from home.

    ¡°Comms check.¡±, Vomi tested the connection the crew had.

    The ICE they used was subtle, but strong enough so it would protect their conversations.

    ¡°Comms are good,¡± one of the crew responded, his voice crackling over the line. ¡°You¡¯re our eyes, so keep us posted.¡±

    Vomi leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I got you. Just don¡¯t do anything stupid. I¡¯m not in the mood to be your babysitter today.¡±

    The team chuckled, but Vomi could already tell they were the type to rush in without thinking. Typical. She pulled up the camera feeds on her laptop, her fingers moving fluidly across the keys, cycling through different angles of the target building.

    ¡°There¡¯s two on the second floor, right by the main hall. And a sniper on the roof¡ªnorth side,¡± she relayed, her voice steady.

    ¡°Copy that,¡± the lead replied. ¡°We¡¯ll take the roof first.¡±

    Vomi watched as the team moved into position. It was a clean operation, nothing too flashy. They moved with precision, clearing rooms as they advanced. She kept them updated, calling out enemy positions and hazards, making sure they had smooth entry.

    But it wasn¡¯t long before things went sideways.

    One of the crew triggered an alarm¡ªprobably some low-level ICE protecting the doors. Vomi cursed under her breath as she scrambled to override it. ¡°Hold on, I¡¯m handling it.¡±

    ¡°Better be quick,¡± the lead said, his voice tense.

    Vomi¡¯s fingers flew over the keyboard, bypassing the security system and disabling the alarm just in time. ¡°You¡¯re clear. But be more careful, choom. You don¡¯t want another alert going off.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Thanks.¡±

    She continued monitoring the team, making minor adjustments and keeping track of the enemy movements. The gig was straightforward, though she was getting bored fast. ¡°Almost done?¡±

    ¡°Just wrapping up now,¡± the lead confirmed. ¡°Good work, Vomi. Drinks on us later?¡±

    ¡°Pass. I¡¯ve had enough for a week,¡± she muttered, rubbing her temples. ¡°Just finish the job clean and I¡¯ll consider us even.¡±

    Once the job was done, she logged off, feeling a weird sense of relief. ¡°Donezo. Now I can focus on M-Tech.¡±

    Vanguard purred, clearly amused by her multitasking. ¡°See? You handled that like a pro. Now, time to get all corpo-looking for that interview. No more sweatpants.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, fine,¡± Vomi groaned as she dragged herself toward her closet. ¡°I hate dressing up.¡±

    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t show up looking like a netrunner who just rolled out of bed,¡± Vanguard teased. ¡°Impressions matter, remember?¡±

    ¡°Impressions are overrated.¡± But she still grabbed a sleek jacket and pants that at least looked like she¡¯d put in some effort. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±

    The screen of her laptop showed a woman dressed in the most stereotypical corpo suit ever, in the history of forever, ¡°Vomi Kurosaki, it is an event having you with us.¡±

    Vomit noticed how she didn''t say ¡°a pleasure¡±, but ignored it for the sake of not getting more headaches.

    ¡°Thank you for sparing your time to meet with me.¡±, She said with a faux smile, enough to show that she was following the usual script of interviews.

    ¡°You CV is most impressive for someone who started in cyber security not long ago. Even a contract for Ascendant Innovations, most impressive.¡±, The woman said as she checked the file, not showing any emotion through her face and voice.

    Vomi nodded, keeping her expression neutral as she clasped her hands in front of her. "Yeah, Ascendant was... an experience." She left it vague on purpose. No need to go into the messy details.

    The corpo woman raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the nonchalance. ¡°And yet, you left rather quickly after completing only a handful of projects. Care to explain?¡±

    Vomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Typical corpo prying. ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly see eye-to-eye with their management. Let¡¯s just say, we had different priorities.¡±

    There was a moment of silence as the woman studied her, like she was weighing whether that was a good enough answer. ¡°I see. Well, M-Tech has a reputation for demanding results. Can we expect you to be fully committed if given this opportunity?¡±

    ¡°Fully committed, sure,¡± Vomi said, keeping her voice calm, even though she was already tired of the corporate spiel. ¡°I¡¯m here for the work. And the pay, of course. As long as that¡¯s clear, we won¡¯t have any problems.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, but she gave a curt nod. ¡°We do appreciate honesty. Let¡¯s move on, shall we? What would you say is your biggest strength in net security?¡±

    Vomi leaned back slightly, her fingers tapping her knee. ¡°Adaptability. I don¡¯t just rely on one method or one approach. I handle whatever the system throws at me, whether it¡¯s a simple breach or high-level ICE. I¡¯ve seen enough messes in the field to know how to clean them up without breaking a sweat.¡±

    The interviewer scribbled something down. ¡°And your weakness?¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°I don¡¯t do well with bureaucratic nonsense. Too many layers of approval, too much waiting around... slows things down. I hate being slowed down.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± the woman replied, her tone unreadable as she wrote again. ¡°You¡¯ll find we value efficiency here.¡±

    Vomi barely suppressed a snort. Sure, efficiency, she thought. ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡±

    The interview continued with more of the same canned questions, with Vomi answering them as diplomatically as she could, despite wanting to wrap it up already. Vanguard, sitting quietly on her shoulder, remained still, his tail swishing lazily. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the woman closed the file on her desk.

    ¡°Well, Ms. Kurosaki, I believe we¡¯ve gotten everything we need for now. We¡¯ll be in touch regarding the next steps.¡±

    Vomi plastered on her best professional smile. ¡°Looking forward to it.¡±

    As soon as the screen went dark, she let out a groan, rubbing her temples. ¡°That was torture.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Vanguard chuckled. ¡°You handled it fine. Could¡¯ve been worse.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like if I had to go in person,¡± Vomi grumbled, slumping back in her chair. ¡°But hey, at least that¡¯s over. Now I can actually relax.¡±

    ¡°Until the next gig pops up,¡± Vanguard teased.

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± she muttered, already grabbing her coffee for another long sip, ¡°I need more coffee.¡±

    <hr>

    The scientist woman returned to her usual attire, lab coat, undershirt, cargo pants, boots and glasses. Don''t forget the glasses. Vomi drove the Colby in search of two things she needed in order to not make the same mistake of falling to Weapon Glitch again, which was a toolbox to dismantle and study any gun she wanted, and components. Lots and lots of components. Thankfully, much like Night City, San Francisco had plenty of crime to deal with, so getting iron looted from corpses was incredibly easy, even more when you are paid for it by the HustleNet.

    She loaded the car''s seats, glovebox and trunk with guns, taking about seven trips back and forth from the Colby to her apartment. There were a lot of guns, a lot of components, and as far as she is concerned, a lot of time to spend before M-Tech gives any answers, so she is going to do something useful while at it.

    ¡°What''s all of this?¡±, The cat symbiote asked as he saw the almost empty room be filled with all the Iron Vomi could carry.

    ¡°Iron.¡±, She said, dropping whatever there was on a table to the ground so she could have space to tinker with the guns, ¡°I want to know what is hackeable in these toys, because I don''t want them jamming next time I need to shoot a gonk.¡±

    ¡°You could''ve just used our powers to deal with that.¡±, He remarked as he smelled the guns on the table.

    Cat behavior.

    ¡°Yes, Vang, that was an option. But wasn''t you who said I needed to grew independency from our powers?¡±, She said, the toolbox falling from her hands to the table, ¡°Besides, laying low, in case you forgot.¡±

    ¡°I am aware, but as more as you complete gigs, the more your name will get around. Even with or without our abilities.¡±

    She groaned, glaring at him, before going back to her Nue.

    The pistol was simple, much like a PX4 Beretta, but it used .45 cal bullets instead of 9mm or any lower caliber in general. Despite the power, it had a decent fire rate, meaning that the gun was designed to be fast and strong, maneuverable and ergonomic, despite the safe trigger getting in the way sometimes. She dismantled the gun, piece by piece, following Past Vomi''s knowledge and instincts to figure out what she needed to do. By the time all the pieces were scattered around the table, the thing that caused the problem was found.

    ¡°This is the problem.¡±, Vomi said as she held the microchip of the gun.

    ¡°What is that chip?¡±, Vanguard inquired, his red eyes glinting with cat curiosity.

    ¡°The chip every gun needs to have to be produced. Call it a tracker, a safety measure, a way so police work is easier¡­ You name it.¡±, She said, putting the chip on her laptop, already stroking the keys in a blip.

    ¡°Why do guns have this chip?¡±

    ¡°Old law. The Unification War and the Corporate Wars resulted in many laws being disregarded or removed from the state¡¯s constitution. Some changing to benefit the higher-ups, more than anything.¡±, She explained, her eyes glued to the screen, ¡°This chip is a safety measure, much like the batteries in some cyberware, meant to subdue dangerous individuals by hacking either the Iron or the chrome.¡±

    ¡°Clever.¡±, Vanguard nodded, ¡°However this was exploited beyond repair, hasn''t it?¡±

    ¡°Maliciously.¡±, She snickered, ¡°Netrunners quickly found out ways to use it against anyone with a gun, that action alone giving the hint so the people being fucked over to put ICE in their guns.¡±

    ¡°Meaning that the weaponry could still work even against a Netrunner?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Unfortunately, my mistake was¡­¡±, She typed the last part of the code, ¡±...never checking if my own guns had ICE protecting them.¡±

    ¡°And the other stuff?¡±, The cat symbiote pointed with his nose at the huge pile of guns.

    ¡°Grow up my arsenal, what else?¡±, Vomi explained as if it was the obvious thing in the world, ¡°Disassembling some guns to make or modify others, scrap anything worth using, sell them later to any gun shop. The usual.¡±

    ¡°The usual.¡±, Vanguard echoed, although he looked bored.

    Vomi ignored his tone, focused on getting her arsenal up to par. She took the Nue¡¯s chip out of the laptop, pocketed it, and moved to the next gun¡ªa M2038 Tactician Pump shotgun she¡¯d picked up on one of her gigs. The thing was a beast, heavy and powerful, but if it wasn¡¯t ICE-protected, it¡¯d be as useless as the Nue had been.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if you¡¯ve got the same issue,¡± she muttered, grabbing her tools.

    Vanguard circled the table, flicking his tail in mild interest. ¡°You know, all this prepping almost makes you look like a paranoid war vet.¡±

    ¡°Hey, can¡¯t be too careful out here,¡± Vomi shot back, carefully unscrewing the shotgun¡¯s components. ¡°Every gonk with a script kiddie setup can hack a weapon if it¡¯s not guarded. Last thing I need is my own iron turning against me.¡±

    He sat down, watching her work. ¡°Fair point. But still, a little overkill, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°No such thing as overkill when you¡¯re in the field,¡± she replied, pulling out the Tactician¡¯s chip. ¡°Especially when you don¡¯t know who¡¯s gunning for you next.¡±

    As she started to analyze the shotgun¡¯s system, her agent buzzed again. This time, a more familiar name popped up.

    Thiago: You free tonight? My band¡¯s got a show downtown. Thought you might wanna hang.

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, momentarily pausing her work. ¡°Huh. Didn¡¯t expect him to text again so soon.¡±

    Vanguard peeked over her shoulder. ¡°Thiago, huh? The guy from last night?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Vomi blinked, almost forgetting she¡¯d given him her number in her drunken state. ¡°He¡¯s inviting me to a gig.¡±

    ¡°Another gig? You¡¯re like a magnet for them,¡± Vanguard teased, flicking his tail. ¡°But this one doesn¡¯t sound as dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly a gig, more like watching their gig. A music show.¡±

    ¡°A Rockerboy? Nice.¡±

    Vomi smiled slightly, considering it for a moment. A night out might be a good change of pace after all the work she¡¯d been doing lately. Plus, the music last night had been fun, even if she couldn¡¯t remember all the details.

    She typed back quickly: Might stop by. No promises.

    Thiago¡¯s reply came almost instantly: Sweet. I¡¯ll put your name on the list.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got plans tonight,¡± Vanguard commented, a bit more intrigued now.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Vomi shrugged, going back to her work. ¡°Depends on how long this takes. Can¡¯t leave a mess behind.¡±

    ¡°Perfectionist,¡± Vanguard said, yawning. ¡°But fine, at least I won¡¯t have to listen to you complain about another Weapon Glitch. Again.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± She grinned, slotting the Nova¡¯s chip into her laptop for further tweaking.

    As she continued working, the pile of weapons slowly got smaller, each one examined, disassembled, and either upgraded or scrapped. Vomi¡¯s focus was razor-sharp, but in the back of her mind, she was already considering a different kind of night out. Maybe she should work on learning to play some instrument? She always liked acoustic versions of curtains songs, mainly Flamenco. Those songs are always preem.

    Vomi glanced at the pile of disassembled guns, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment, even if it was the most mundane kind of work. "Almost done," she muttered to herself, eyeing the last few pieces. She stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles, leaning back for a moment.

    Vanguard raised an eyebrow, catching her brief daydream. "Flamenco, huh? That¡¯s a shift. Didn¡¯t know you had a soft spot for that."

    She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ soothing. Besides, after all this chaos, something acoustic might help balance things out.¡±

    ¡°I can picture it now: Vomi, the netrunning, gun-tinkering scientist who moonlights as a flamenco guitarist,¡± Vanguard teased, his red eyes glinting with amusement. ¡°Not a bad image.¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she replied, though her smile gave her away. ¡°Maybe I''ll give it a shot. Hell, I¡¯m good at multitasking, right?¡±

    ¡°You are. But you¡¯ve already got your hands full with gigs, guns, and dodging corpos. Don¡¯t get too ambitious, chica.¡±

    ¡°Ambitious is kind of my default setting.¡±

    She laughed softly, the thought lingering in her mind. The idea of a peaceful hobby like that was tempting¡ªsomething to drown out the noise in her life. Music had a way of cutting through the static, and flamenco was a sound she could get lost in. But, like Vanguard said, balancing her chaotic lifestyle with more activities wasn¡¯t exactly the easiest thing.

    Still, the thought stayed with her as she packed up the last of her disassembled weapons, making a mental note to look up where she could buy an acoustic guitar. Maybe one day, after all the gigs and shooting, she could see where that interest took her.

    ¡°Alright, all done here,¡± she said, standing up from the table. ¡°What time is it? Should I head to Thiago¡¯s gig or stay home and mess with more guns?¡±

    Vanguard stretched lazily on the table, his tail flicking in amusement. ¡°Up to you. Personally, I think you could use some fresh air and actual human interaction. But who am I to say?¡±

    She sighed, glancing at the clock. The show wasn¡¯t for another hour or two, so she had time to decide. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll go. But no promises I¡¯ll stay the whole time.¡±

    ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re thinking about it,¡± Vanguard said, hopping off the table. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you out of that lab coat and into something a little more rock-friendly, hmm?¡±

    ¡°I am gonna use a Samurai coat.¡±, She declared proudly, hands in her hips and all.

    ¡°Samurai? Do you only know that band?¡±, All the enthusiasm that Vanguard had vanished at the single mention of the group.

    ¡°What? Their skull logo is nova!¡±

    ¡°It is the most generic and unthoughtful crest I''ve ever seen.¡±, He replied with a sigh.

    ¡°Your life span is almost a month! You don''t have a day in that!¡±

    ¡°Yes I do. And you can''t do anything about it.¡±

    Vomi was about to strike the cat when she noticed the faint smirk in his black fur.

    Vomi paused mid-swing, narrowing her eyes at Vanguard. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I like you,¡± she muttered, dropping her hand and heading toward her closet. ¡°Fine, I won¡¯t wear the Samurai coat. But I¡¯m still wearing something cool.¡±

    Vanguard snickered. ¡°I trust your fashion sense, though I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll involve black.¡±

    She rummaged through her clothes, pulling out a leather jacket with a subtle neon design along the sleeves. ¡°This better?¡±

    ¡°Much more you,¡± he agreed, his tail flicking as he watched her get dressed.

    Satisfied with her look¡ªcasual but with enough edge to fit in at a Rockerboy gig¡ªVomi gave herself a once-over in the mirror. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this.¡±

    ¡°See? You¡¯ll blend right in,¡± Vanguard teased, jumping up onto her shoulder as they made their way out the door.

    The drive to the venue wasn¡¯t far, the streets buzzing with the usual mix of corpo drones, street punks, and netrunners, all going about their lives. As she pulled up near the venue, she could already hear the muffled sound of music echoing from inside.

    Thiago had sent her the location of a grungy underground bar¡ªone of those places where you could still smell the rebellion in the air. It wasn¡¯t much different from the spots she¡¯d been to back in Night City. Vomi parked the Colby and stepped out, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air.

    ¡°You ready?¡± Vanguard asked, his tone more relaxed now.

    ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± she replied, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she headed toward the entrance.

    Inside, the bar was dimly lit, neon signs casting a glow over the crowd of people already gathered for the show. The smell of cheap liquor and sweat hit her, but it was familiar, almost comforting in a weird way. Vomi made her way to the bar, flashing the bartender a quick nod before looking around for Thiago.

    The stage was set, instruments tuned and ready, with a few techs running last-minute sound checks. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel a little excited herself. It had been a while since she¡¯d done something purely for fun, and despite her reluctance, this was starting to feel like the right call.

    ¡°There he is,¡± Vanguard pointed out, nodding toward the back of the room where Thiago was talking with his bandmates.

    Vomi spotted him, his hair slicked back and his leather jacket fitting the part. He noticed her almost immediately and waved her over with a grin.

    ¡°Vomi! You made it!¡± Thiago shouted over the noise, his smile genuine. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if you¡¯d actually come.¡±

    She shrugged, playing it cool. ¡°Figured I¡¯d check it out. Can¡¯t stay too long, though.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he chuckled, offering her a drink. ¡°But hey, you¡¯re here now. Enjoy the show.¡±

    Vomi took the drink, sipping it cautiously as the lights dimmed and the band took the stage. Can''t have a second hangover. The first few chords hit, loud and raw, and the crowd surged with energy. Vomi found herself nodding along to the beat, letting the music wash over her.

    For a moment, amidst the chaos of the crowd and the blaring music, she heard¡­

    ¡°Evanescence?!¡±

    The very first notes of Bring Me to Life started, and she was honestly too stunned to sing along, since she was pretty sure this song didn''t exist in Cyberpunk.

    Vomi blinked in disbelief, the opening chords of Bring Me to Life reverberating through the grungy bar. The crowd was already starting to cheer, a mix of confusion and excitement rippling through the air.

    ¡°Did I just step into some kind of time warp?¡± she muttered under her breath, glancing at Vanguard on her shoulder.

    ¡°I was thinking the same thing,¡± Vanguard purred in her ear, amused. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like this world¡¯s usual vibe, does it?¡±

    Onstage, the band had already captured the crowd. The drummer, a tall guy with a shock of blue hair, pounded out the beat with precision. The guitarist was all attitude, sporting a mohawk and glowing cybernetic arms that lit up with each strum of his instrument, syncing perfectly with the neon lights onstage. Then there was the bassist, a woman with chromed-out legs and tattoos crawling up her arms, her hands moving deftly over the strings like she was born to do it.

    But it was the singer who caught Vomi¡¯s attention. She stepped up to the mic, her dark hair cascading down her back, some strands braided with neon fiber optics. She was dressed in a form-fitting leather jacket that shone under the stage lights, giving her an ethereal glow. Her voice was low and sultry as she belted out the familiar lines of the song, and Vomi couldn¡¯t help but be impressed.

    The singer¡¯s name, Vomi vaguely recalled from last night¡¯s haze, was Raven. Her voice was powerful and haunting, much like the woman herself. As she sang, her eyes scanned the crowd, locking with certain people as if she was drawing them in, pulling them closer to the music. It was almost hypnotic, the way her presence commanded the room.

    ¡°She¡¯s got talent,¡± Vanguard admitted, his red eyes watching Raven intently. ¡°No wonder the crowd¡¯s into it.¡±

    Vomi nodded, leaning back against the bar, still stunned by the song choice but appreciating how Raven made it her own. The raw emotion in her voice was undeniable, the way she hit every note with perfect intensity, the electric energy pouring into every line of the song. The band played in perfect sync behind her, each member adding their own unique twist to the classic sound.

    By the time they reached the chorus, the entire bar was on fire with energy. People were jumping, singing along¡ªeven Vomi found herself mouthing the words, her body moving slightly to the beat. The weight of her earlier hangover lifted a little as she got lost in the music.

    ¡°Maybe this wasn¡¯t such a bad idea,¡± she whispered, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

    Vanguard purred in agreement. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re actually having fun.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get used to it,¡± she shot back, though she was clearly enjoying herself more than she expected.

    As the song continued, Vomi couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was something special about Raven. Her presence on stage was captivating, like she belonged there. And as the final notes of Bring Me to Life echoed through the room, Raven threw a fist in the air, flashing the crowd a fierce grin.

    The audience erupted into cheers and applause, and Raven stepped back from the mic, glancing toward Vomi and the bar. For a split second, their eyes met, and Vomi felt a jolt of recognition, though she couldn¡¯t quite place why.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Vanguard mused, sensing the moment.

    Vomi brushed it off, turning her attention back to her drink. ¡°Yeah, yeah. It¡¯s just a good show.¡±

    Thiago quickly came over to the bar stool, ¡°So, what do you think?¡±

    ¡°It was¡­ I am speechless.¡±, She admitted, leaving the empty cup on the counter, ¡°Raven, isn''t it?¡±

    ¡°That''s the lead singer¡¯s name.¡±, He nodded, ¡°Unfortunately I am just the back singer. My voice can''t go up and high like that.¡±

    Raven herself, after a quick chug of some booze, came over to Thiago and Vomi, ¡°Never seen you around here. Hey T, where did you find this chick?¡±

    ¡°Last night.¡±, Thiago mused, ¡°Although I barely remember what happened yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Did you two hook up?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±, Vomi refused a bit too quickly.

    That made Raven snort, ¡°Yeah you did.¡±

    ¡°No! I! Didn''t!¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say.¡±

    ¡°Stop teasing her.¡±, Thiago said with a half smile, ¡°Vomi is a Netrunner, as far as I remember. She helped me after we got drunk, so no worries. Biz was smooth, and she is legit.¡±

    Vomi blinked, ¡°I don''t remember doing anything for you though?¡±

    Raven raised an eyebrow at Vomi, clearly amused. ¡°You don¡¯t remember? Wow, that must¡¯ve been one hell of a night.¡±

    Vomi felt her face flush slightly, the memory gap making her feel a bit embarrassed. ¡°I really don¡¯t. I just know I woke up with a headache, and that¡¯s it.¡±

    Thiago chuckled. ¡°Well, you did me a favor, whether you remember or not. Something about a hacked system? Honestly, the details are fuzzy, but you were solid. Kept us out of some heat.¡±

    Raven leaned in, her voice playful. ¡°A netrunner, huh? You don¡¯t look like one. Too¡­ put together for someone who lives in the grid.¡±

    Vomi shrugged, trying to play it off. ¡°I have my moments.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you ever get tired of all that running, maybe you can work for us,¡± Raven teased, taking a sip of her drink. ¡°Our gigs could always use a techie who knows her way around ICE.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more of a freelancer,¡± Vomi said quickly, not wanting to get sucked into anything permanent.

    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Raven smirked, clearly not taking her too seriously. ¡°But the offer¡¯s there if you ever change your mind.¡±

    As they talked, the crowd began to thin out a little, people drifting toward the exit or gathering at the bar. The post-show buzz lingered in the air, and Vomi found herself relaxing, despite the earlier awkwardness.

    ¡°You know,¡± Thiago began, leaning casually against the bar, ¡°if you¡¯re free, we could hit another spot after this. Raven knows a great underground place. Good music, less crowd.¡±

    Vomi glanced at Vanguard, who was still perched on her shoulder, watching everything with his usual detached curiosity. She knew what he was thinking¡ªlay low, don¡¯t get too caught up in anything unnecessary. But something about the night felt different, like it wasn¡¯t just another job or casual meeting.

    ¡°Yeah, I could use another drink,¡± Vomi said, surprising herself.

    Thiago grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡±

    Raven shot her a playful wink. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re gonna have ourselves a proper night.¡±

    As they started to leave the venue, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but feel that familiar tug in her gut¡ªlike something was shifting, like tonight wasn¡¯t just a random outing. Maybe it was Raven¡¯s energy, maybe it was the weird d¨¦j¨¤ vu she felt. Either way, she wasn¡¯t about to bail now.

    Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed quietly in her head. ¡°Just keep your guard up.¡±

    ¡°Always,¡± Vomi whispered under her breath, as the three of them slipped into the night.

 Chapter 11: Chooms and Corporations

    Vomi climbed into the Mahir Supron, which was way more than your standard van from Cyberpunk 2077. This one had been modded to fit five band members and all their gear. The moment the doors shut, the group blasted a rock track on the radio¡ªsome heavy beats, not Samurai but with the same kind of energy. Vomi, though, sat there a bit awkwardly, feeling out of place. She didn¡¯t know most of these people besides Thiago.

    Raven, the lead singer, noticed her silence and decided to drag her into the conversation. ¡°So, I didn¡¯t ask earlier, but why do you still wear glasses when you¡¯ve got optics?¡±

    Vomi blinked, caught off guard. ¡°Oh, these? I¡¯ve had them since before I chipped in. Feels weird not wearing them.¡±

    And it wouldn¡¯t be her without them. Android 21 vibes and all.

    ¡°I get that,¡± Blaze, the guitarist, chimed in, flexing his chrome arms. ¡°I don¡¯t really need my gloves, but I feel naked without ¡®em. Blaze, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Blaze.¡± Vomi smiled, feeling a little more comfortable.

    Then the bassist, tuning his guitar, asked, ¡°And what about that cat on your shoulder?¡±

    ¡°Vang?¡± Vomi glanced at the symbiote who was lounging lazily on her shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s kind of my partner in crime. Never leaves my side.¡±

    Raven grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°Nice pussy.¡±

    ¡°Excuse you?!¡± Vomi snapped, face flushing.

    The whole van erupted into laughter, with Thiago wheezing as he tried to breathe. ¡°Oh man, you¡¯re way too easy to mess with!¡±

    ¡°Gonk!¡± Vomi hissed, crossing her arms, but her irritation only made them laugh harder.

    The bassist wiped a tear from his eye. ¡°I¡¯m Nieme Coby, but everyone calls me Nico.¡±

    ¡°No one calls you Nico,¡± Blaze interrupted, shaking his head.

    ¡°All my real friends do.¡±

    ¡°Bro, all your friends are in this van,¡± the drummer, who had been mostly quiet till now, deadpanned. ¡°And none of us calls you Nico.¡±

    Nieme raised a fist dramatically. ¡°Just you wait! The name Nico will echo through all of Rockerboy culture!¡±

    The drummer gave him a flat look. ¡°Your name sounds like a PonPon Shit remix.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you!¡±

    Vomi couldn¡¯t help but crack up at the banter. This group was nova, and the vibe was laid-back and fun. Vanguard meowed and leaped down from her shoulder into her lap, and Raven noticed.

    ¡°We don¡¯t really have a mascot,¡± Raven mused. ¡°Maybe your little Vang here could be hired. What do you think?¡±

    Vomi grinned, scratching behind Vanguard¡¯s ear. ¡°What do you say, Vang? You up for it?¡±

    Vang¡¯s response was a swift slap to her hand.

    ¡°Guess not,¡± Vomi sighed.

    ¡°Shame,¡± Raven chuckled. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re here.¡±

    Vomi glanced out the window and realized they¡¯d pulled up in front of a gun store. ¡°What are we doing here?¡±

    Blaze scoffed, ¡°What else do you do at a gun store? Shoot stuff, duh.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t know we were coming here,¡± Thiago explained as they all piled out of the van. ¡°I only told her about the music.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m very interested,¡± Vomi cut in, holding up her Nue. ¡°Just got this baby modded. Perfect time to test it.¡±

    Raven gave her a wicked grin, adjusting her grip on her Copperhead. ¡°Now that¡¯s what I like to hear. Time to place some bets!¡±

    ¡°Bets?¡± Vomi raised an eyebrow as Vanguard jumped back onto her shoulder, tail flicking.

    ¡°Who¡¯s gonna score the most points,¡± the drummer, now identified as Heitor, explained. His earlier boredom had faded, and now he looked more engaged.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Heitor, you¡¯ll get your eddies back,¡± Blaze teased, clapping Heitor on the back.

    The group entered the gun store, where the owner nodded at them¡ªa clear sign they were regulars here. Guns in hand, the band got ready.

    Raven smirked, inspecting her SMG. ¡°Alright, chooms. How about 500 eddies for who leads in headshots? We got plenty of cash from the gig.¡±

    Vomi couldn¡¯t help but smile as she checked her Nue¡¯s sights. Maybe she wasn¡¯t so out of place after all.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do this,¡± she said, loading her mag.

    ¡°Warm up?¡±, Thiago asked as he held up a DR5 Nova revolver, ¡°Been a while since I got to shoot my baby.¡±

    ¡°Sure, five minutes each. Take a lane and enjoy!¡±, Raven said as she immediately turned and selected the hardest difficulty on her lane.

    The group spread out across the shooting lanes, each of them quickly getting into the zone. Vomi picked her spot, slipping on some ear protection. The atmosphere in the gun store was electric, the sound of magazines being loaded and weapons clicking into place setting the stage for their little competition.

    Raven, of course, went straight for the hardest difficulty on the target system, unleashing a barrage from her Copperhead. The rapid tat-tat-tat of her SMG filled the room, her aim precise, every headshot adding more to her imaginary pile of eddies.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡± Nieme shouted, grabbing a shotgun off the rack. He pumped the action and began blasting away at his own targets, each booming shot shaking the floor. His wide grin was infectious, his competitiveness cranking up the energy in the room.

    Thiago, more composed, was lining up careful shots with his DR5 Nova revolver. ¡°Been a while since I gave my baby a real workout,¡± he said with a sly grin before squeezing the trigger. The heavy BOOM from his revolver echoed through the store, the recoil forcing his arm to rise slightly with each shot.

    Vomi, however, took her time, making sure her newly modded Nue was up to snuff. She wasn¡¯t about to rush it, especially not after what happened last time with Weapon Glitch. Her targets popped up, and with a swift motion, she raised her gun, feeling the smoothness of the trigger pull after her modifications. The first shot rang out, the bullet hitting dead center in the target¡¯s head.

    She grinned, feeling a sense of satisfaction. The mods were working perfectly.

    Vanguard, watching the chaos unfold from his perch on her shoulder, flicked his tail lazily. ¡°Not bad for a scientist,¡± he purred. ¡°But you¡¯re still behind the others.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± Vomi muttered, adjusting her grip as she fired again, this time landing another clean shot.

    Heitor, the drummer, who had been silent for most of the ride, was quietly dominating his lane. His skill with firearms surprised Vomi¡ªhe moved with a kind of silent precision, each shot controlled, deliberate, as if he¡¯d done this a thousand times before.

    ¡°Damn, Heitor¡¯s a beast,¡± Vomi whispered, watching as he effortlessly hit each target.

    ¡°He¡¯s got some military background,¡± Thiago replied, taking a quick break to reload. ¡°Doesn¡¯t talk about it much, but he¡¯s not just here for the beats.¡±

    The warm-up session continued, with everyone trying to outdo each other. Raven was holding onto her lead, but Nieme was closing in fast, his shotgun blasts tearing through targets at an impressive rate. Vomi kept at it, steadily improving her score as she got more comfortable with her upgraded Nue.

    After a few more minutes, Raven called out, ¡°Alright, chooms, time¡¯s up! Let¡¯s see who owes who!¡±

    Everyone stepped back from their lanes, checking the scores on the boards. Raven, of course, had racked up the highest number of headshots, grinning from ear to ear as she turned to the others. ¡°500 eddies each, pay up!¡±

    Nieme groaned, shaking his head. ¡°I was so close! You rigged that somehow.¡±

    Raven winked. ¡°Skill, choom. Pure skill.¡±

    Thiago chuckled, pulling out his credchip. ¡°Fair is fair.¡±

    Vomi, still high on the adrenaline, couldn¡¯t help but smirk. ¡°Next time, Raven, I¡¯m taking that top spot.¡±

    Raven raised an eyebrow, grinning. ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try, gal.¡±

    As they exited the range, the tension from before had completely evaporated. Vomi felt more at ease with the group, the shared experience of competition and laughter breaking through any lingering awkwardness.

    ¡°So, Vomi,¡± Raven said as they headed back to the van. ¡°You think you¡¯re ready for the real thing now? There¡¯s another gig tomorrow night. A little more¡­ hands-on.¡±

    Vomi thought for a moment, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the grip of her Nue. ¡°Hands-on? Like running another hustle?¡±

    ¡°More like a job,¡± Thiago said, sliding into the driver''s seat. ¡°Quick stuff. Just make some noise while the main crew does their thing.¡±

    Vomi looked around at the crew¡ªthese strangers that, somehow, didn¡¯t feel so much like strangers anymore. She had her doubts, but a part of her was itching for something more.

    ¡°I really shouldn''t, but¡­ Ah, fuck it. Let''s go.¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah!¡±, The entire crew said at the same time, even Heitor.

    <hr>

    It was a delivery convoy. The only thing they needed to do was make them divert from their original route and make as much noise as possible. Since none of them besides Vomi can deal with the Net and the Cyberspace, they are all wearing masks to conceal their identity. They parked the Mahir Supron on the sidewalk where the Intel told them where the convoy would pass, so they mostly sat down and waited.

    ¡°You guys down for some noodles?¡±, Blaze asked as his chrome fingers tapped the van''s door.

    ¡°Pass.¡±, Heitor said.

    ¡°Yup.¡±, Raven replied as she puffed smoke out of her cigarette.

    ¡°Sure.¡±, Nieme agreed.

    ¡°I can go for a cup, yes.¡±, Thiago said as he played on a tablet, some game about space travel.

    Vomi just hummed positively, enough of an answer as she was watching the traffic cameras on her laptop.

    The wait stretched on, but the crew kept their cool. Vomi remained focused on the feed from the traffic cams, eyes darting across the screen. The convoy hadn¡¯t appeared yet, but it was only a matter of time. She could feel Vanguard shifting on her shoulder, the cat seemingly more alert than usual.

    Blaze returned with a couple of noodle cups, passing them out. ¡°Here ya go. Enjoy while it lasts.¡±

    Thiago barely looked up from his game as he grabbed his cup. ¡°Thanks, choom.¡±

    Vomi took her own cup, but her mind was elsewhere. She had set up a few basic scripts, ready to deploy the second the convoy got within range. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, anticipation building.

    ¡°Got eyes yet?¡± Raven asked from the back, her mask resting on her lap as she absentmindedly spun her Copperhead in her hands.

    ¡°Not yet. Soon though,¡± Vomi replied, sipping her noodles between sentences. ¡°Traffic¡¯s steady. Shouldn¡¯t be long now.¡±

    They ate in relative silence for a few more minutes, the tension thickening with every passing second. Then, finally, Vomi¡¯s screen lit up. She zoomed in on one of the feeds, spotting the convoy of armored trucks weaving through traffic.

    ¡°Got them. Heading our way.¡±

    The crew immediately perked up, tossing aside their cups and pulling their masks back on. Vomi¡¯s fingers flew across the keyboard, executing the first phase of their plan.

    ¡°I¡¯m breaching their system now. Give me a second.¡±

    She sent out a ping, the signal infiltrating the convoy¡¯s weak security. A map of the convoy¡¯s route appeared on her screen, showing real-time updates on their position and security systems.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got access. Gonna redirect them¡­ now.¡±

    A few keystrokes later, the convoy¡¯s GPS adjusted, rerouting them to a side street. Vomi grinned, satisfied. ¡°We¡¯re in. They¡¯ll be passing by in two minutes. Let¡¯s make some noise.¡±

    Raven and Nieme hopped out of the van, guns ready. Blaze stayed close by, checking his chrome arms, while Thiago readied the van for a quick getaway.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be confused as shit once they realize the detour,¡± Vomi said, closing her laptop and grabbing her Nue. She and Vanguard stepped out of the van, ready to back the team up.

    ¡°Perfect. Let¡¯s hit ¡®em hard and fast,¡± Raven said, leading the charge.

    The convoy turned onto the street just as planned, three armored trucks rolling slowly down the narrow road. Raven took the first shot, shattering the windshield of the lead truck with a precise burst from her Copperhead. The convoy immediately screeched to a halt, alarms blaring as the drivers scrambled for cover.

    Vomi stayed back, hacking into their systems to disable the alarms while the others moved in, guns blazing. Nieme blasted a truck¡¯s door off its hinges with his shotgun, while Heitor picked off the guards with deadly accuracy.

    One of the guards rushed forward, firing wildly, but Vomi quickly sent a command to lock his weapon, causing it to jam. He stood there, confused for a split second, before Raven took him down with a single shot.

    ¡°Nice work, Vomi!¡± Thiago shouted from the van, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any incoming threats.

    The crew made quick work of the convoy, securing the cargo they had come for¡ªhigh-end electronics and valuable chips. Vomi kept the digital chaos running, jamming any signals the guards might try to send out for backup.

    ¡°Got the goods. Let¡¯s roll!¡± Blaze called out, loading the last crate into the van.

    Vomi gave one last glance at her screen, ensuring their exit would be clear. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re good. Let¡¯s move!¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    They piled into the van, the sound of sirens starting to wail in the distance. Thiago floored it, peeling out of the alley and merging back into the city¡¯s chaos.

    As they sped away, Raven pulled off her mask and grinned at Vomi. ¡°Not bad for your first real job, eh?¡±

    Vomi smiled, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. ¡°My first job with a crew, yeah.¡±

    Vanguard, now perched comfortably on her lap, let out a satisfied purr.

    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re one of us now,¡± Nieme said, his grin wide.

    ¡°Don''t call it success now.¡±, Thiago warned, his feet full in the gas pedal, ¡°Our gig isn''t finished. They are confused, but they aren''t stupid.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they won''t stop at just one convoy.¡±, Raven sounded way more serious now, checking the map Vomi shared when hacking the systems, ¡°They can get on our tail if we aren''t careful.¡±

    ¡°Can''t delta too fast.¡± Heitor said, picking up a sniper, ¡°Draws attention.¡±

    Vomi opened her laptop again, typing furiously as she checked every traffic camera, ¡°I''m gonna black out the cameras. See if we can stay in the dark.¡±

    ¡°Good call.¡±, Nieme admitted, surprised no one thought about it before, ¡°That''s why you are our Netrunner.¡±

    ¡°You can thank Thiago.¡±, Vomi replied offhandedly, not taking her eyes off the screen.

    ¡°Thanks, Thiago.¡±

    Thiago scoffed, ¡°Don''t mention it.¡±

    ¡°Slow the van. Movement on the left. Go traffic speed.¡±

    As soon as Vomi said that, Thiago braked as casually as possible to seem like another van in the streets, blending along the traffic.

    The van slowed, blending seamlessly into the sea of cars. The tension inside was palpable, but Vomi kept her focus on her laptop. She tapped into the nearby cameras, feeding false data back to the city¡¯s grid and effectively hiding their presence.

    ¡°Cameras are down, but we¡¯ve got company.¡± Vomi¡¯s voice was calm, though her pulse quickened. ¡°They¡¯re scanning the streets. Probably running plates and scanning faces.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Raven muttered, pulling her mask back up. ¡°How many?¡±

    ¡°Two interceptors, unmarked.¡± Vomi brought up a map on her screen, highlighting the tailing vehicles. ¡°They¡¯re trying to act casual, but they¡¯re definitely after us.¡±

    ¡°Guess they didn¡¯t buy our detour trick,¡± Blaze said, checking his gun. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s fingers danced over the keys, her mind racing. She had to think fast. ¡°I¡¯m going to reroute them again. Make them think we¡¯re heading in another direction.¡±

    ¡°Better do it quick. They¡¯re getting closer,¡± Heitor said, his sniper rifle held steady, ready in case things went south.

    Vomi sent a few quick commands, spoofing the van¡¯s location to a distant part of the city. It would buy them time, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°They think we¡¯re headed to the docks now,¡± she said, glancing up. ¡°That¡¯ll give us a few minutes to get out of this area. But we need to move, and fast.¡±

    Thiago nodded, carefully accelerating the van. ¡°Copy that. Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡±

    The van weaved through the crowded streets, but the tension never left. Every second felt like a countdown until the interceptors caught on.

    As they crossed into a quieter part of the city, Vomi noticed a blip on her radar. ¡°Wait¡ªone of them¡¯s heading our way again. They¡¯re not falling for the docks trick.¡±

    ¡°Of course they aren¡¯t,¡± Raven said, leaning forward. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll have to deal with them directly.¡±

    Heitor checked his sniper, his usual calmness hiding the tension. ¡°Take them out from here or wait?¡±

    Vomi scanned the area. ¡°There¡¯s a narrow alley two blocks ahead. We can funnel them in if we time it right. I¡¯ll jam their signals once we get there.¡±

    ¡°Good thinking,¡± Raven nodded. ¡°Thiago, you heard her. Two blocks.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Thiago replied, adjusting course toward the alley.

    The crew readied their weapons, preparing for the inevitable fight. The seconds ticked by as they neared the alley, the sound of the city fading into the background as everyone focused on what was coming.

    ¡°They¡¯re almost on us,¡± Nieme said, gripping his shotgun tightly.

    ¡°Wait for it¡­¡± Raven instructed.

    The moment they hit the alley, Vomi fired off a quick hack, cutting off the interceptors¡¯ communications and freezing their systems. One of the vehicles swerved, struggling to stay in control.

    ¡°Now!¡± Raven shouted.

    Heitor leaned out the back window, his sniper aimed at the lead interceptor. With a single, precise shot, he took out the driver, sending the car crashing into the side of a building.

    The second vehicle tried to recover, but Blaze was already out of the van, unloading rounds from his chromed arm. The sound of gunfire echoed in the alley as the interceptor skidded to a stop, its tires blown out.

    Raven and Nieme joined Blaze, finishing off the remaining operatives before they could react. The entire exchange lasted less than a minute, but the crew moved with ruthless efficiency.

    ¡°Clear,¡± Blaze called out, dusting off his hands.

    Vomi glanced at her laptop. ¡°No more signals on us. We¡¯re in the clear for now.¡±

    ¡°Nice work, chooms,¡± Raven said, her grin back as she slung her SMG over her shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get the loot to the buyer before anyone else shows up.¡±

    Thiago got back behind the wheel as the crew reloaded into the van. Vomi took a deep breath, finally allowing herself to relax a little.

    Vanguard meowed softly, nuzzling her cheek. She smiled and scratched behind his ears, the adrenaline finally fading.

    ¡°Not bad for my first real run, huh?¡± Vomi said, glancing around at the team.

    ¡°Not bad at all,¡± Raven agreed, her voice laced with approval. ¡°You¡¯re officially one of us now, Vomi.¡±

    Vomi leaned back in her seat, a sense of belonging settling in. She had found her place among these misfits, and for once, it felt right.

    <hr>

    They went to a warehouse near the economic area of San Francisco. It was a place where both houses, apartments, Megabuildings and stores could blend in and be unnoticed, even doing things in broad daylight. The warehouse was, funnily enough, the place where the band rehearses their songs, as a bunch of empty beer bottles, old music boxes and the edit room were. Thiago parked the van inside, Blaze, Nieme and Heitor unloading the boxes of cargo they stole. Raven just went to the nearby XXL Burrito vending machine and bought one for everyone. Thiago went immediately to the fridge to pick up beer for everyone too.

    ¡°Buyer will come tomorrow, so the success of the gig will be postponed until we get paid.¡±, Raven commented as she gave the burritos to everyone, ¡°Still, good job everyone.¡±

    ¡°You say that because you won 500 eddies more than everyone else.¡±, Blaze deadpanned.

    ¡°I didn''t recover mine.¡±, Heitor sighed depressively.

    ¡°There there.¡±, Nieme patted the drummer¡¯s back.

    ¡°Relax, chooms.¡±, Thiago offered the beer bottles as he took a big swig of it, ¡°We made it! And the eddies are welcome.¡±

    ¡°Can''t argue with that.¡±, Vomi smiled as she sat down to eat her burrito.

    Vomi took a bite of her burrito, the warm spices cutting through the chill of the warehouse. The others were chatting, winding down after the heist, but her mind was still racing from the adrenaline and the rush of pulling off something so big. She hadn¡¯t felt this alive in a long time¡ªdoing gigs for corps never gave her this kind of high.

    Vanguard curled up beside her, content now that the action was over. His soft purring was a strange contrast to the hard edges of the environment around them¡ªthe cargo, the guns, and the eddies that were all part of this new life she¡¯d found herself in.

    ¡°Thinking about the next job already?¡± Raven asked, plopping down next to her with a smirk.

    Vomi chuckled, ¡°Guess I¡¯m not used to the downtime yet. This is a little different from my usual gig, but I like it. Feels¡­ real.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the best part,¡± Raven said, cracking open her beer. ¡°When you¡¯re on stage or in the field, there¡¯s no buffer, no corporate agenda. It¡¯s just you, the crew, and the world trying to screw you over.¡±

    Vomi nodded, taking another bite of her burrito. She liked the sound of that. No corporate bullshit, no fancy contracts¡ªjust a crew and a job.

    Thiago flopped down on an old couch across from them, feet up on the armrest. ¡°So, Vomi, you sticking with us for a while or you gonna run back to your cushy lab life?¡±

    ¡°Cushy isn¡¯t the word I¡¯d use,¡± Vomi said, smirking as she wiped her mouth. ¡°But yeah, I¡¯m in. This is way more fun than slaving away for some corpo that doesn¡¯t give a damn.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we like to hear,¡± Blaze called over, already halfway through his second beer. ¡°You got skills, Vomi. Think you¡¯ll fit in real nice.¡±

    Heitor, still quietly sulking over his lost eddies, gave a begrudging nod. ¡°We could use a good Netrunner.¡±

    ¡°Especially one who can pull off what you did back there,¡± Nieme added. ¡°That was smooth.¡±

    Vomi felt her cheeks flush a little, not used to this kind of praise. She shrugged, trying to play it cool. ¡°Just doing my part. You guys are pretty nova yourselves.¡±

    Raven nudged her with an elbow. ¡°You¡¯re officially part of the crew now, so don¡¯t go getting all modest on us. We¡¯ve got bigger gigs to plan. You in?¡±

    Vomi looked around at the team¡ªRaven, Thiago, Blaze, Nieme, and even Heitor, who finally cracked a small smile. This felt different from anything she¡¯d been part of before. It felt like family, in a twisted, cyberpunk way.

    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± she said firmly, smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s see where this takes us.¡±

    Raven grinned, raising her beer. ¡°To bigger gigs, more eddies, and less gonk corpo jobs.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you won''t save the corpo anymore?¡±, Vanguard pulsed a thought, although he didn''t judge her.

    Oh yeah, she almost forgot about that.

    ¡°I do have a job in the HuscleNet though.¡±, She pointed out, much to Raven''s annoyance.

    ¡°Really? That place is full of corpo bullshit.¡±, She crossed her arms, frown deep in her face.

    The way she drank the entire bottle afterwards was concerning.

    ¡°What''s the gig about?¡±, Blaze asked, minor curiosity surpassing his displeasure.

    ¡°Some Analytics Corpo got kidnapped, worked for M-Tech. I did a job interview for them this morning so I could help with that while investigating his case.¡±, Vomi explained, crossing her legs, much to Vanguard''s annoyance, ¡°It pays good, can make good connections.¡±

    ¡°And put a target on your back.¡±, Nieme pointed out, bottle still in his hands, ¡°Can''t trust a corpo, no one can.¡±

    ¡°It''s just a one-time gig.¡±, Vomi tried to play it down.

    ¡°You did an interview.¡±, Heitor mentioned, his face almost grimacing, ¡°Fate is settled.¡±

    ¡°I have to agree with him.¡±, Thiago crossed his arms, tilting his head, wrapping the situation, ¡°M-Tech isn''t the kind of corporation to just let ¡®valuable assets¡¯ leave their possession.¡±

    Thiago made sure to put emphasis on ¡°valuable assets¡±.

    ¡°You should delta as soon as you can, gal.¡±, Raven gave a tired sigh, ¡°Nothing good comes out of them.¡±

    ¡°You can do the gig, but you will take risks.¡±, Blaze added, ¡°One of them is that you won''t hang around with us.¡±

    ¡°You really hate corpos that much?¡±, Vomi asked, and everyone scoffed.

    ¡°Who the fuck doesn''t?¡±, Nieme replied bluntly, ¡°All they care about is their power and control.¡±

    Vomi sat back, letting the gravity of their words settle in. The anti-corporate sentiment was thick in the air, and she could feel the tension rising. For a moment, she glanced at Vanguard, who offered no input this time, simply watching with those sharp feline eyes.

    "Look, it''s not like I''m signing a long-term contract," Vomi said, her tone defensive but calm. "It¡¯s a job. In and out. I have no interest in getting tangled up in corporate politics. I¡¯ve worked with corps before, but I¡¯ve always made sure to keep my distance."

    Raven¡¯s frown deepened, and she tossed her empty beer bottle aside with a sharp clink. ¡°That¡¯s what everyone says. ¡®In and out,¡¯ like it¡¯s just another gig. Until you find yourself buried under their boot, running gigs just to survive.¡±

    Blaze nodded, his arms crossed. ¡°They¡¯ve got their claws in everything. One small favor for a corpo, and next thing you know, they own you.¡±

    Heitor, still sulking but more engaged now, spoke up. ¡°You can¡¯t walk away clean. No one does.¡±

    Vomi let out a long breath, feeling the weight of their distrust. They weren¡¯t wrong. The corpos could be relentless, and even though she had a good sense of self-preservation, this wasn''t her first dance with a megacorp. But still, she needed to balance survival with the connections she¡¯d built in her professional life.

    ¡°I get where you¡¯re coming from, I really do,¡± Vomi said, looking each of them in the eye. ¡°But this gig? It¡¯s a calculated risk. One job, then I¡¯m out. It pays, and I can help someone who¡¯s in deep shit. That¡¯s worth something.¡±

    Thiago leaned back, tipping his beer bottle towards her. ¡°Just don¡¯t expect us to come bail you out if shit goes sideways. If you get burned by M-Tech, you¡¯re on your own.¡±

    The others murmured their agreement, the room settling into a heavier silence. It was clear they were wary, but Vomi also saw something else¡ªconcern. They didn¡¯t want to lose her to the corporate grind. Not after she had finally found her way into their tight-knit group.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Vomi replied. ¡°But I¡¯m not planning on getting burned. I¡¯m good at what I do. I¡¯ll finish the job, get paid, and walk away. No strings.¡±

    Raven grunted, clearly still displeased but not wanting to argue further. ¡°Alright. But watch your back. We¡¯ve lost too many good people to corpo bullshit.¡±

    Vomi gave a small nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I will. And after this gig, I¡¯m all in. No more corpo jobs, no more distractions."

    The group seemed to accept that, even if reluctantly. Blaze uncrossed his arms, Nieme took another swig of his beer, and Raven lit another cigarette, puffing away the last of her frustration.

    "Just make sure you come back in one piece," Nieme said with a lopsided grin. "We need you for the next gig."

    "Count on it," Vomi replied, a determined glint in her eyes.

    As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics¡ªmusic, future plans, and some idle banter about Heitor¡¯s terrible luck with bets¡ªVomi couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of her decision. She had one foot in two worlds, and it was becoming increasingly clear that sooner or later, she¡¯d have to pick a side.

    For now, though, she was focused on the job ahead. And she¡¯d make sure to see it through, with or without her crew¡¯s approval.

    Vanguard, still perched on her lap, gave a soft purr of approval as if sensing her resolve.

    <hr>

    This time, Vomi remembered what happened last night. Didn''t stumble on her way out of bed, didn''t crash while taking a shower and actually wore something corpo-like. The reason? She was invited to M-Tech, do the cyber security job and was already informed she could work the gig she was doing for HustleNet. All good so far, but something else was needed.

    And it was safety.

    Nue in a very hidden holster and a tablet with single use quick hacks ready, she wore her lab coat over the suit and drove her Colby to the corporate building. Of course, the Nomad car drew attention, but she was here on merit, not on looks.

    As Vomi approached the towering corporate building, its sleek, reflective exterior gleaming under the sun, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of unease crawling up her spine. Even though she was technically on "business," stepping into a megacorp''s territory was never without risks. She parked the Colby and stepped out, adjusting her lab coat over the suit. Her hand instinctively brushed over the hidden holster where her Nue rested¡ªher silent insurance policy.

    Vanguard, of course, merged back together with Vomi. Better to have all security measures when needed.

    As she walked toward the main entrance, the street buzzed with corpo drones, street vendors, and the ever-watchful cameras mounted at every angle. A reminder of the constant surveillance she was about to step into.

    She entered the lobby, a cold, sterile space that smelled of freshly cleaned marble floors and money. The receptionist greeted her with a mechanical smile.

    ¡°Ms. Vomi, correct? You¡¯re expected on the 43rd floor. Mr. Graves will meet you there.¡±

    Vomi nodded, keeping her expression neutral. Her mind was already working through multiple scenarios, exits, and contingencies. She didn''t trust M-Tech, and she definitely didn¡¯t trust Mr. Graves. Corpo suits were the same no matter how much tech they wrapped themselves in.

    As she stepped into the elevator, she tapped her tablet subtly, running a quick sweep of the building¡¯s internal network. The signal was clean so far, but she knew better than to let her guard down. The smooth hum of the elevator calmed her nerves slightly, but the pressure in the pit of her stomach remained.

    When the doors slid open to reveal the sprawling office floor, her eyes were immediately drawn to the glass walls and the dozen or so corpo execs milling around, buried in their own conversations. The glass gave the illusion of openness, but Vomi knew it was more like a high-tech fishbowl where every move could be watched.

    A tall, well-dressed man stood by a massive desk near the far end of the floor. He had the polished look of someone who had risen high in the corpo ranks¡ªsharp suit, even sharper eyes.

    ¡°Ms. Vomi,¡± Mr. Graves greeted, extending a hand. ¡°Thank you for coming. I trust the journey wasn¡¯t too much trouble?¡±

    ¡°None at all,¡± Vomi replied, shaking his hand briefly, her grip firm. ¡°Just here to do the job.¡±

    ¡°Good, that¡¯s what we like to hear,¡± Graves replied with a thin smile, motioning for her to follow him. ¡°This way, please. The brief is straightforward, but the task¡­ well, it will require someone of your specific talents.¡±

    As they walked through the floor, she could feel eyes on her¡ªother corpo types assessing her, sizing her up. She ignored it, focusing instead on Graves¡¯ words and the environment around her. Every detail mattered.

    They entered a conference room, where a digital display of a map with multiple red markers popped up on the screen. Graves gestured towards it.

    ¡°This,¡± he began, ¡°is a series of ongoing intrusions in our lower-tier security networks. Normally, we¡¯d handle this in-house, but these hackers have¡­ a certain finesse that our internal team has struggled to counter. That¡¯s where you come in.¡±

    Vomi looked at the map, recognizing some of the patterns. ¡°Blackwall breaches?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Graves nodded, his expression slightly impressed. ¡°Very observant. Yes, it seems someone is testing the limits, and we suspect they¡¯re aiming for something deeper.¡±

    Vomi bit her lip, considering. ¡°What¡¯s the target?¡±

    Graves¡¯ smile faded, replaced by a more serious tone. ¡°That¡¯s what we need to find out. They¡¯ve been probing, nothing critical yet, but it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡±

    Vomi leaned back slightly. ¡°So, you want me to patch up your leaks and identify the intruders?¡±

    ¡°Precisely. We¡¯ve set up a secure terminal for you. The sooner we can plug the gaps, the better.¡± He hesitated for a moment before adding, ¡°And, of course, this is highly sensitive. You¡¯ll be well compensated for your discretion.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "I assume by ''discretion,'' you mean not sharing any of this with HustleNet?"

    Graves gave a thin smile. "We appreciate your understanding."

    Vomi nodded, but her mind was already spinning, processing the job, the risks, and the invisible web she was walking into. She followed Graves to the terminal room where she would begin the operation, but something about this felt off. She couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a standard breach.

    And she was going to find out exactly what that was¡ªon her terms.

 Chapter 12: The top of the ICEberg

    Graves quickly left the small office room as soon as it was presented to Vomi. He left some minor details about the missing analyst, but it was clear that wasn''t Graves¡¯ main concern, or at least the thing he was asked to get done. After all, Blackwall breaches aren''t something to take slightly. There is a reason the wall was put up in the first place, making whatever it was at the other side stay at the other side. So, Vomi put her personal cord on the terminal and immediately removed it before any progress on whatever upload could be done.

    They didn''t even have the decency to wait a few minutes before gathering every information about her, huh? Well, no matter, the laptop was built exactly for situations like these. Connecting via the laptop to the terminal was surprisingly easy and with no risk of getting a Daemon on her system. With a few tweaks, she even made the line subtle enough so she could work without triggering any of the special programs or hacks that M-Tech has, making her initial work all the easier. Granted, Blackwall leaks, but still.

    First thing Vomi did was to look at the leaks themselves. If the Netrunners were as good as they were they would clean their traces and leave almost no evidence or leads back to them, not to mention the fact they are avoiding their brains getting fried by the ICE programs, but that''s another detail for later. Upon inspecting some of the leaks, mostly harmless stuff about financial archives, Vomi quickly realized that there was a pattern in all of these attempts, be them successful in taking the data or not.

    They all came from the same Netrunner.

    How? The methods used were the same, although in different IP addresses, making it near impossible to track. Thankfully the patches for the leaks are simpler to deal with, just an update and a few other programs and it''s good to go. What didn''t make sense however was how this Netrunner kept probing different files that had no connection with the last one. Sometimes the files were about car dealerships, sometimes about immunosuppressors, and even sometimes about¡­ XBDs? How did any of this connect with whatever they are trying to expose? And bring from the Blackwall?

    Is it an AI? Because that would mean it would be almost a genocide at this point, but even the stupidest of minor gangsters can understand that the Blackwall was just something you didn''t mess with unless you had extreme backup, and an investor.

    Investor¡­ Hmm¡­

    The only other corporation that could, and absolutely would do something like this is KanedaCorp, another minor Japanese corporation trying to grow up to be another Arasaka, but hardly had the same success as the big ones.

    Did it make sense? Maybe. Was it a possibility?

    Absolutely.

    So Vomi started digging.

    Vomi''s fingers flew across the keyboard as she started cross-referencing the breaches, trying to make sense of the seemingly random data. Immunosuppressors, XBDs, car dealerships¡­ none of this lined up with anything directly, but the fact that they were all coming from one Netrunner? That was a clue. Whoever this was, they were either sloppy, desperate, or incredibly confident.

    And that¡¯s when it hit her. The scattershot approach. It wasn¡¯t just random; it was meant to confuse anyone trying to backtrace the intrusions. The Netrunner was gathering specific intel from various sectors, but the question remained¡ªwhy?

    She leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh. Vanguard, sitting on the desk next to her, after confirming that no one was watching, flicked his tail in mild irritation at the pause in typing.

    ¡°What do you think, Vang? A corpo scheme? Maybe KanedaCorp pulling strings?¡±

    The cat blinked lazily, not offering much in the way of deep insight, but his presence was comforting nonetheless.

    ¡°Investor¡­ backer¡­ gotta be someone with deep pockets, right?¡± she muttered, pulling up the files on KanedaCorp. If anyone was crazy enough to poke around the Blackwall with this level of finesse, it was a smaller player trying to make big moves. The type to take risks that the larger corps wouldn¡¯t¡ªuntil the payoff was huge, of course.

    She dove into KanedaCorp¡¯s recent dealings. It was a smaller corp, aggressive in its expansion, but still nowhere near the reach of Arasaka or Militech. Yet, their name had started popping up more frequently in underground circles. They were hiring like crazy, buying up assets, and making shady alliances with merc groups. Definitely trying to punch above their weight class.

    Vomi ran a few more back-end searches, masking her tracks while she dug into KanedaCorp¡¯s hidden assets. As expected, they had their fingers in a lot of pies: bioengineering, weapons development, and¡­ something else. Something buried deep in encrypted files labeled "Project Ouroboros."

    ¡°The same project that Marco was dealing with¡­¡± she murmured to herself, intrigued. She hacked into the file¡¯s metadata, pulling up whatever she could before hitting a wall of heavy ICE. ¡°Of course, it''s locked.¡±

    But not for long.

    After a few more quick hacks and bypasses, she managed to snag a small fragment of info from the files before the system kicked her out. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to confirm her suspicion: KanedaCorp was funding the Blackwall breaches. They were testing the waters, trying to pull something¡ªor someone¡ªout from the other side.

    A wave of unease washed over her. This wasn¡¯t just about corporate espionage or boosting profits. This was playing with fire, and if KanedaCorp was successful, they¡¯d be letting loose something that could potentially wreak havoc on the Net, maybe even in meatspace too.

    She glanced at the clock. Time was running short, and she needed more information. Vomi quickly patched up the breaches on M-Tech''s systems, doing just enough to make it look like she¡¯d completed her job without arousing suspicion. But she couldn¡¯t leave it at that. There was still the matter of the missing analyst. Whoever they were, they could have valuable intel on what KanedaCorp was planning.

    Before disconnecting, Vomi ran one last search for the analyst¡¯s name¡ªTakeo Kenzo. No hits on public databases, but a shadow profile appeared under a different alias. It seemed Kenzo had been digging too deep into something he wasn¡¯t supposed to, and now he was missing. Probably abducted¡ªor worse.

    She closed her laptop and stood up, her mind racing with possibilities. She could report what she found to HustleNet, get her eddies and be done with it. Or¡­ she could dig deeper, uncover what KanedaCorp was really after, and possibly stop them before they tore a hole in the Blackwall.

    But doing that would put her at odds with not just KanedaCorp, but potentially every other corpo with a vested interest in keeping the Blackwall intact. And let¡¯s face it, messing with AI or rogue Netrunners trying to break through the Wall? That was a whole new level of dangerous.

    Vomi exhaled, rubbing her temples. ¡°Of course, it¡¯s never simple.¡±

    She knew what she had to do. This was bigger than just some corpo job, and she wasn''t about to walk away when something this dangerous was in play.

    Grabbing her coat, she exited the office. She¡¯d have to move carefully, but she wasn¡¯t about to let KanedaCorp, or whoever was behind this, crack the Blackwall.

    As she made her way back to her car, her Agent pinged. A message from Thiago. Looks like they already missed her, despite the corpo talk last night.

    "Heard you''re still stuck in corpo land. When you''re done, we¡¯ve got a new gig lined up. Bigger than the last one. Don¡¯t get fried before then, alright?"

    Vomi smirked at the message. ¡°As long as it doesn''t involve shooting. Kinda busy.¡±

    The message came back after a few seconds, ¡°Just band work today. We are trying to figure out a name. Suppose you could help?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, choom. Tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    She slid into the Colby and revved the engine. Time to find Takeo Kenzo.

    <hr>

    Vomi checked her bank account for now. Almost 59K EuroDollars, enough to have a comfortable life for a few months, but part of this money was going to be used wisely.

    By hiring a merc to search for Takeo, of course.

    Whoever is going to take the job, is going to search the old way while she searches on the Cyberspace, at least as deep as she can without going there herself. Despite being in a Cyberpunk world, she doesn''t feel nearly as comfortable as the next guy with chrome, so she isn''t getting a dive anywhere near sooner than in a few years. Maybe not at all. But something she didn''t expect was to find someone that wasn''t even on the Edgerunners anime, at least not in the official airing of the show, but in a promotional video, a almost 5 minute prequel.

    Sasha, the cat Netrunner.

    ¡°Sup!¡±, The unapologetically pink wearing clothes girl, probably no older than 20, spoke as Vomi was still in her corpo uniform.

    Although the lab coat was covering most of it.

    Vomi blinked as she sat on the table of the noodle stand, still wrapping up her head that an anime character was talking to her, ¡°Sasha.¡±

    ¡°Yo! You have a cat?! So preem!¡±, The girl jumped out of her seat and immediately petted Vanguard, who wasn''t going to say no, of course.

    Sasha, dressed in neon pink and black, practically radiated energy as she lavished attention on Vanguard, who purred contentedly, soaking up the affection.

    ¡°Yeah, this is Vanguard. He¡¯s got good taste in people, I guess,¡± Vomi said with a slight smirk, watching Sasha¡¯s enthusiasm.

    Sasha grinned, still petting Vanguard, her hands moving quickly, but gentle. ¡°Well, he¡¯s a smart choom. Knows how to pick ¡¯em.¡±

    Vomi leaned back, still staring at Sasha with minor bewilderment, ¡°Unless you plan on petting my cat all day, I suppose we can talk biz.¡±

    Sasha huffed, getting back at her seat, ¡°You corpos are all the same. Can''t have foreplay.¡±

    That made Vomi snort, ¡°I am sure you would like that, but I''ve got jobs to do.¡±

    Vang just meowed, much to Sasha''s gushing, ¡°So cuuute! But fine, name''s Sasha Yakovleva. Kitty Netrunner!¡±

    The pose she made after that couldn''t be less anime.

    ¡°Vomi Kurosaki.¡±, She replied, almost surprised to sound so corporate, ¡°I assume I don''t need to retell the gig?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know. Find the Takeo guy and report back to you.¡±, Sasha waved off with a smirk, ¡°I''ll see what I can do.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±, Vomi said as the noodle stand owner put down two cups, ¡°I am in a time limit to get that done.¡±

    ¡°No worries. I am as good as¡­¡±, She failed to give a point of reference, ¡°I guess there is no one as good as me in San Francisco. Night City? Maybe, but I''m missing that place for now.¡±

    ¡°Bad memories?¡±

    ¡°Bad memories.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±, Vomi agreed as she slurped her cup.

    ¡°Alright, gotta delta. See ya later Corpo Kitty.¡±, Sash got up and left, leaving no room for Vomi to deny her corpo connections.

    ¡°I like her.¡±, Vanguard muttered, his tail flickering with happiness.

    ¡°Of course you do.¡±

    As Sasha bounced away, disappearing into the neon haze of the street, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Corpo Kitty, huh? She hadn¡¯t exactly embraced her new ¡°corpo¡± lifestyle, but maybe there was no escaping the label at this point. Between the job with M-Tech and her ties to HustleNet, she was playing a dangerous balancing act.

    Vomi scratched Vanguard behind the ears, watching as his tail flicked lazily. ¡°You like anyone who gives you attention.¡±

    Vanguard purred in response, completely unbothered. ¡°She has good energy. You could use more like that around.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Vomi conceded, though she wasn¡¯t about to admit that Sasha''s energy was contagious. It was strange meeting someone so light-hearted in a world that seemed to chew people up and spit them out. Then again, Sasha was far more dangerous than her bright pink aesthetic suggested.

    Vomi polished off her noodles, tossing a few scraps to the ground for some stray cats lingering nearby. It was time to move on. Sasha would start tracking Takeo on the streets, while Vomi would focus on digging through cyberspace for any additional leads.

    Sliding into her Colby, Vomi pulled out her personal cord and plugged in her deck, preparing for a deep dive. Her laptop buzzed softly, waiting for commands. She wouldn¡¯t be diving into the Blackwall directly¡ªat least, not yet¡ªbut there was still plenty of data to comb through.

    First stop: the dark net. M-Tech had layers upon layers of protection, but Vomi knew where to look to start scraping under the surface. She tapped into some old Netrunner forums, setting her proxies and firewalls in place, as she searched for whispers of Takeo¡¯s whereabouts.

    It wasn¡¯t long before something popped up.

    A thread on a hidden forum, barely a week old, discussing ¡°unregistered extractions.¡± A certain Netrunner had gone missing, someone who had been poking around in corpo business that didn¡¯t concern them¡ªM-Tech, to be exact. Vomi scanned the thread quickly, her heart racing. Could this be about Takeo? It wasn¡¯t a concrete lead, but it was better than nothing.

    The thread mentioned a meeting, some kind of underground exchange that went sideways. Rumors of a corpo-backed hit on a Netrunner who was getting too close to something classified. Vomi¡¯s mind whirred with the possibilities.

    She started to dig deeper, bypassing more security protocols, until she found a reference to an address: an old data storage facility on the outskirts of the city, barely operational and mostly forgotten.

    Problem was that despite it being almost perfect for someone to just vanish from existence, it was monitored 24/7.

    A few minutes of searching in the cameras, audio logs and motion captures was enough to show that no one was there.

    Disappointing, but expected.

    Vomi leaned back in her seat, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. The data storage facility seemed like a dead end¡ªno signs of Takeo, no suspicious activity. But the fact that it was being monitored 24/7 was interesting in itself. A rundown facility like that being watched so closely? There had to be something more going on beneath the surface.

    "Looks like they¡¯re covering their tracks,¡± she muttered, closing out the feed.

    Vanguard, curled up in the passenger seat, cracked an eye open. ¡°Or setting a trap.¡±

    Vomi sighed, glancing out the window at the sprawling cityscape. He wasn¡¯t wrong. For a place that dead, it could easily be bait for any Netrunners trying to follow the same lead. Someone wanted people like her¡ªor worse, Sasha¡ªsniffing around.

    ¡°Guess we¡¯ll have to play it a little smarter,¡± she said, pulling up her own encryption software and preparing to ghost her signal. If there was something worth hiding at the facility, she wouldn¡¯t be able to find it by normal means. But a direct digital dive? That could trigger defenses she wasn¡¯t ready for.

    Instead, she searched the dark net again, cross-referencing any chatter about old M-Tech facilities and their real purpose. Most of the conversation pointed toward data storage, but there was a subset of rumors suggesting that some of these facilities were used for¡­ experimental purposes. That made her stomach turn.

    She pinged Sasha on a secure line. If anyone could help dig deeper into this, it was her new contact.

    ¡°Yo, Corpo Kitty, what¡¯s good?¡± Sasha¡¯s voice came through her earpiece, as cheerful as ever.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lead on Takeo. Old M-Tech facility, outskirts of the city. But it¡¯s locked down tighter than it should be, and I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s being watched.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a fun day trip. You want me to check it out IRL or do some snooping in the Net?¡± Sasha replied, clearly eager for action.

    ¡°Both, if you can manage it. I need you to get eyes on the place first¡ªsee if anything¡¯s off. Meanwhile, I¡¯m digging through some old records to see if I can find out what M-Tech was really doing there.¡±

    ¡°Preem. I¡¯ll head over now. You got my back if I need a quick jack-in?¡±

    ¡°Always,¡± Vomi said, feeling a strange sense of relief. Despite the weirdness of their interaction earlier, Sasha was a solid Netrunner¡ªreliable in a pinch.

    As Sasha signed off, Vomi returned to her own dive into the dark net. This time, she broadened her search to include not just M-Tech, but any other corp or group that might have an interest in covering up a Blackwall breach. Her mind kept drifting back to KanedaCorp and Project Ouroboros. The threads were starting to connect, but she still needed more solid evidence.

    After an hour of digging, she found something. It was buried deep in a long-abandoned Netrunner forum, one filled with half-finished conversations and broken links. But one thread stood out¡ªan encrypted chat log discussing KanedaCorp¡¯s experiments with AI beyond the Blackwall. They were using old M-Tech facilities as testing grounds, and according to the log, they weren¡¯t just pulling data. They were trying to pull something¡­ a Cyberdeck.

    A ping from Sasha snapped her back to reality.

    ¡°Yo, Kitty, you¡¯re gonna love this. Place looks dead on the outside, but I found some hidden motion sensors and cams not on any public record. Someone¡¯s definitely keeping an eye on this place.¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Vomi clenched her jaw. ¡°Figures. I¡¯m coming down there. Don¡¯t engage until I get there.¡±

    ¡°Got it. But hurry. I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about this.¡±

    Vomi started the Colby¡¯s engine, her mind racing. If KanedaCorp was behind this, and if they were really trying to pull something through the Blackwall, then Takeo wasn¡¯t just a missing analyst. He was a key piece in a much larger, more dangerous puzzle.

    Thing is: What exactly?

    ¡°The theory of mind control doesn''t sound insane now, does it?¡±, Vang commented in a yawn.

    ¡°This is definitely the second time Ouroboros gets named in this city, that''s for sure.¡±, Vomi said as she waited in a red light, ¡°But why the Blackwall? Can''t the corps just make this instead of ripping apart the only thing that keeps the AIs at bay?¡±

    Vanguard flicked his tail, eyes half-closed. "Maybe it''s not just control they''re after. Could be something bigger. Something worse."

    Vomi shifted in her seat as the light turned green. The idea was unsettling¡ªAI being used for more than just control, but as a weapon, maybe even autonomous. If KanedaCorp was pulling something from the Blackwall, they might not fully understand what they were messing with. That kind of hubris wasn¡¯t uncommon in corpo circles, but it was always dangerous.

    ¡°They¡¯re playing with fire,¡± Vomi muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. ¡°Ouroboros¡­ some kind of self-perpetuating system? A loop? What if they¡¯re trying to create something that can¡¯t be stopped, something that evolves?¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s ears perked up slightly. ¡°An evolving AI would explain why they¡¯re pushing the Blackwall so hard. They¡¯re not just trying to break it¡ªthey¡¯re looking for something behind it. Something that can grow beyond it.¡±

    Vomi shuddered at the thought. If KanedaCorp had a rogue AI that could evolve on its own, beyond human control, it wouldn¡¯t just be a problem for cyberspace. It would be catastrophic for the entire city¡ªand maybe beyond.

    She arrived at the outskirts of the facility. It was as quiet as the surveillance feeds had shown, but now that she was here, Vomi could feel the tension in the air. Sasha was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, scanning the perimeter.

    ¡°Glad you could make it, Corpo Kitty,¡± she quipped, pushing off the wall as Vomi approached. ¡°Place is dead on the outside, but there¡¯s something weird going on inside. I can feel it.¡±

    ¡°Motion sensors? Any signs of activity?¡± Vomi asked, glancing at the building.

    ¡°Nothing overt, but I caught a glimpse of some automated defenses. We¡¯re talking high-level ICE, black-market stuff. Whoever¡¯s running this op doesn¡¯t want anyone poking around.¡±

    Vomi nodded. ¡°Then we need to move quietly. If we trip anything, we might alert KanedaCorp, or worse.¡±

    Sasha grinned. ¡°I like quiet. Let¡¯s get this done.¡±

    The two women slipped into the shadows, making their way toward the facility. Sasha had already disabled most of the external sensors, allowing them to approach without triggering alarms. As they got closer, Vomi¡¯s internal HUD pinged with a warning¡ªan unusual frequency was broadcasting from inside the facility, faint but constant.

    ¡°Picking up a signal,¡± Vomi whispered, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Encrypted, but not strong enough to be a standard transmission. Could be local.¡±

    Sasha crouched down, pulling out a small device from her bag. ¡°Let me take a crack at it. I¡¯ll boost the signal and see if we can figure out where it¡¯s coming from.¡±

    While Sasha worked, Vomi kept an eye on their surroundings. The facility was eerily silent, and the longer she stood there, the more she felt like they were being watched.

    Suddenly, Sasha¡¯s device beeped, and she swore under her breath. ¡°Shit. You¡¯re not gonna like this.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°That signal? It¡¯s not just a transmission. It¡¯s an AI¡ªa piece of one. Looks like they¡¯ve been trying to pull fragments through the Blackwall. This isn¡¯t just about data; they¡¯re trying to build something.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s heart sank. ¡°Ouroboros. They¡¯re assembling it piece by piece, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Sasha nodded grimly. ¡°No clue what Ouroboros is, but it looks like it. They¡¯re not just messing with the Blackwall¡ªthey¡¯re using it to pull parts of an AI from the other side and integrate it here. But they¡¯re still missing pieces. I think that¡¯s where Takeo comes in.¡±

    Vomi clenched her fists. ¡°We need to find him, fast. If they complete this AI¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all fried,¡± Sasha finished for her, packing up her gear. ¡°No pressure, though.¡±

    The two continued deeper into the facility, their steps silent, hearts pounding with the weight of what they had just uncovered. If KanedaCorp succeeded, they would unleash something that could break free from the Blackwall¡ªsomething far more dangerous than any Netrunner or corpo could control.

    They reached the entrance to the facility¡¯s main storage area. The door was sealed, but Sasha quickly bypassed the lock, and the heavy metal slid open with a quiet hiss.

    Inside, the room was dark, illuminated only by the dim glow of old terminals. Rows of server racks hummed quietly, their drives blinking like distant stars. In the center of the room, a single chair was overturned¡ªnext to it, a tablet lay abandoned.

    Vomi¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°That has to be Takeo¡¯s.¡±

    She rushed forward, picking up the tablet. It was still warm, the screen glowing faintly. As she powered it on, a single message popped up:

    ¡°Help me.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s blood ran cold.

    ¡°Alright, time to dive.¡±, Sasha said as she started undressing.

    Vomi almost, almost, yelled for her to stop, ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Do you see an ice bath here?¡±, She said, putting on a collant suit used by Netrunners, ¡°There''s a cord there to dive in the Cyberspace, so I will use their terminal and start munching their leftovers.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡±, Vomi nodded, unsure how to react, ¡°I should call back up. M-Tech needs to find this place.¡±

    Sasha laid down on the NetChair ready to plug the cord on the back of her head, ¡°And bring a bunch of unwanted attention to this place and make whoever and whatever you need from here delta in an instant.¡±

    Vomi hesitated, Sasha¡¯s words sinking in. She was right¡ªcalling in M-Tech or any corpo backup would tip off KanedaCorp and whoever else had their fingers in this operation. If Takeo was still alive, they needed to move quietly.

    "Fine. No backup." Vomi muttered, pacing the room while Sasha plugged herself in. "But if something goes sideways in there, yank yourself out immediately. I don''t care how good you think you are¡ªthis place feels off."

    Sasha flashed a cocky grin. "Relax, Corpo Kitty. I¡¯ve got this. Just keep an eye on the meatspace while I work my magic."

    Vomi shot her a glare but didn¡¯t argue. As much as she hated to admit it, Sasha was likely the best shot they had at getting any intel out of the system before it all went to hell. Still, the unease gnawed at her, something about the facility felt wrong¡ªlike a place built to trap, not just store data.

    Vomi glanced around again. ¡°What are the odds this place has any booby traps for Netrunners?¡±

    Sasha¡¯s laugh was muffled as she plugged into the chair. ¡°Oh, probably 100%. But I¡¯m preem, remember?¡±

    The confident smirk on Sasha¡¯s face faded as her eyes glazed over, the telltale sign that she¡¯d fully jacked in. The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the servers. Vomi felt a chill creep up her spine, her gut telling her that whatever Sasha was about to encounter in the Net wasn¡¯t going to be pretty.

    Minutes passed, each one more tense than the last. Vomi paced, keeping her hand near her gun, glancing back at Sasha every so often. Vanguard, perched on the edge of a nearby console, watched intently, tail flicking back and forth. His ears twitched, sensing the tension in the air.

    Then, without warning, Sasha gasped.

    Vomi snapped her attention back to the chair. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Sasha¡¯s fingers twitched, her face contorting as if she were seeing something that shouldn¡¯t exist. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ massive. Bigger than anything I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± she whispered, her voice strained. ¡°Ouroboros¡­ it¡¯s not just an AI. It¡¯s¡­ something alive. Pieces of it are everywhere¡ªspreading like a virus through the Net. They¡¯re assembling it piece by piece, but it¡¯s already starting to adapt¡­¡±

    Vomi¡¯s heart raced. This was worse than she¡¯d imagined. ¡°Can you locate Takeo? Is he still alive?¡±

    Sasha¡¯s expression tightened. ¡°I¡¯m looking¡­ but the system¡¯s got layers of black ICE, more than I¡¯ve ever seen. This isn¡¯t just about pulling data anymore¡ªit¡¯s about keeping something in.¡±

    Vomi clenched her fists. ¡°Sasha, I don¡¯t care about the AI right now. We need Takeo. Now.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know! Just¡­ give me a second¡ªthere!¡± Sasha¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡¯ve got him. He¡¯s still alive, but he¡¯s deep¡ªtrapped in some kind of containment program. They¡¯ve got him tethered to the AI, feeding it data through his neural interface.¡±

    Vomi felt a rush of relief mixed with dread. ¡°Can you pull him out?¡±

    Sasha hesitated. ¡°It¡¯s risky. The program is designed to fry his brain if I try to break the connection. But I can sever some of the ties, make it so he¡¯s not feeding it anymore. It¡¯ll buy us time.¡±

    ¡°Do it.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s fingers twitched as she worked, sweat beading on her forehead. Vomi could feel the tension in the air thickening, the hum of the servers growing louder, more insistent. Something was happening¡ªsomething big.

    Suddenly, Sasha¡¯s body jerked violently, and she let out a pained scream.

    ¡°Sasha!¡± Vomi rushed to the NetChair, shaking her. ¡°Pull out, now!¡±

    Sasha¡¯s eyes fluttered, her body trembling as if she were locked in a battle she couldn¡¯t win. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ trying to stop me,¡± she gasped, her voice weak. ¡°It knows¡­ we¡¯re here¡­¡±

    Vomi didn¡¯t hesitate. She grabbed the cable connecting Sasha to the terminal and yanked it free. Sasha¡¯s body went limp, her breathing ragged.

    For a moment, the room was eerily silent, then Sasha coughed and sat up, her face pale. ¡°Holy shit¡­ that was close.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Vomi demanded, helping her out of the chair.

    Sasha shook her head, still catching her breath. ¡°The AI¡­ Ouroboros¡­ it¡¯s awake. And it¡¯s pissed.¡± She rubbed her temples. ¡°But I managed to sever the connection to Takeo. He¡¯s not feeding it anymore, but we¡¯ve got to move. Fast.¡±

    Vomi nodded. ¡°Where is he?¡±

    Sasha pointed to a door at the far end of the room. ¡°Through there. But be careful. If the AI is awake, it might start fighting back in the real world.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s blood ran cold at the thought. ¡°Great. Just what we needed.¡±

    With a quick glance at Sasha to make sure she was steady, Vomi drew her gun and led the way toward the door. They weren¡¯t just fighting against a rogue AI now¡ªthey were racing against time before the system lashed out in desperation.

    If they didn¡¯t get to Takeo soon, whatever KanedaCorp had unleashed could end up tearing down more than just the Blackwall.

    <hr>

    Thankfully, Sasha wasn''t one to go guns blazing at every single guard there was in the facility.

    Yes, a facility. Underground and all.

    The cat-like chrome she had in her hands made it really easy to just go about the entire thing without making a sound.

    However, what Vomi didn''t expect was that the rogue AI wasn''t an AI, or even a robot possessed by one. As far as anyone in the Cyberpunk world could understand, this place had Nanobots mixed with Goo.

    Another Symbiote, to be precise.

    Dormant, but still as dangerous.

    Vanguard immediately merged back with Vomi as soon as Sasha wasn''t looking, because this wasn''t something to cat-behave now. It was serious.

    Vomi felt Vanguard¡¯s presence envelop her, the symbiote integrating seamlessly into her body. It was a sensation she was used to by now, but every time, it still felt like a jolt of electricity¡ªsharpening her senses, heightening her awareness. The fact that another symbiote was lurking in this place made her pulse quicken. They couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate what they were dealing with.

    Sasha stayed ahead, her chrome-clad figure moving with precision as they crept down the narrow corridor. The walls were cold, metallic, and sterile, but the faint hum beneath the surface hinted at something far more advanced and unsettling¡ªKanedaCorp¡¯s twisted experiments merging biology and technology in ways they were never meant to.

    Vomi scanned the area ahead, her instincts heightened by Vanguard''s merging. ¡°Nanobots and symbiotes,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°KanedaCorp¡¯s playing with fire.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed softly in her mind, "And they don¡¯t realize they¡¯re about to get burned. We need to get out before this thing wakes up."

    They reached the final door, a thick, reinforced slab of metal that seemed to pulse faintly with a life of its own. Sasha tapped at a panel, hacking the lock with ease, but she shot a wary glance at Vomi.

    ¡°Whatever¡¯s behind this door, it¡¯s not gonna be pretty,¡± Sasha said. ¡°You ready?¡±

    Vomi nodded, steadying her breath. ¡°Let¡¯s get Takeo and get the hell out of here.¡±

    The door slid open with a low hiss, revealing a dark chamber bathed in the eerie glow of flickering, suspended screens. At the center, Takeo was strapped to a chair, wires and tubes connecting him to the terminals that blinked with strange, shifting data. His face was pale, gaunt, his body limp like a puppet on strings.

    ¡°Takeo!¡± Vomi whispered sharply, rushing toward him. She reached out, checking his pulse. It was weak but steady. ¡°He¡¯s alive.¡±

    Sasha moved quickly, examining the connections. ¡°They¡¯ve been siphoning his mind, using his neural link to piece together whatever they¡¯re building. This thing¡ªit¡¯s not fully active yet, but it¡¯s merging with the system.¡±

    Vomi cursed under her breath. ¡°Can you disconnect him?¡±

    Sasha hesitated. ¡°I can try, but if I pull the wrong line, it could kill him¡ªor worse, wake up whatever the hell that is.¡± She motioned toward a large containment tank at the far end of the room, filled with dark, viscous liquid. Inside, something was shifting, slow but unmistakable. It looked like it was breathing.

    Vomi¡¯s stomach churned. This was worse than she¡¯d thought.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for careful,¡± Vomi said, her voice tight. ¡°Do it. We¡¯ll deal with the fallout later.¡±

    Sasha nodded, her fingers flying over the connections, her eyes focused. ¡°Alright, hold onto him. This could get messy.¡±

    Vomi braced herself, gripping Takeo¡¯s limp body as Sasha yanked the main line. The second the connection severed, the lights in the room flickered violently, the hum of the machinery growing louder, more chaotic.

    The containment tank in the corner began to bubble, the dark substance within swirling rapidly. The thing inside shifted again, more violently this time, and a low, guttural growl echoed through the room.

    Vanguard¡¯s voice sharpened in Vomi¡¯s mind. "It''s waking up. We need to move. Now."

    ¡°Go!¡± Sasha shouted, pulling Takeo free from the chair. Vomi hefted his body over her shoulder, the weight dragging her down, but adrenaline pushed her forward.

    As they rushed for the exit, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoed behind them. Vomi didn¡¯t dare look back, but she could feel it¡ªsomething was following, something fast and angry. The symbiote, whatever it was, had woken up, and it wasn¡¯t happy.

    They barreled down the hallway, Sasha leading the way, her cyber-enhanced legs giving her an edge in speed. Vomi struggled to keep up with Takeo¡¯s dead weight, but Vanguard¡¯s strength helped keep her moving.

    "Faster!" Vanguard urged, his voice a growl in her mind.

    The exit was in sight, but the sound behind them was growing louder¡ªheavy, wet slaps of something massive and liquid crawling after them.

    ¡°Almost there!¡± Sasha shouted.

    But Vomi didn''t make it.

    They burst through the final door, into the cool night air. Vomi tossed Takeo into the back of the Colby as Sasha leapt in after him. Sasha was forced to get in the driver''s seat expecting Vomi to appear right after, only to see no one behind them.

    ¡°Corpo Kitty?¡±, She asked, only to hear crushing sounds coming from the facility.

    Truth is, Vomi was fighting that thing. Symbiote against Symbiote.

    Vomi had barely made it through the hallway when the symbiote-entity surged forward, latching onto her with a tendril of viscous, black ooze. It slammed her into the wall with brutal force, knocking the wind from her lungs. Vanguard reacted instantly, shifting through her body, amplifying her strength and reflexes.

    "It''s not going to stop," Vanguard growled in her mind. "We either kill it or it kills us."

    The creature lashed out again, but this time Vomi was ready. She twisted out of its grasp, rolling to her feet and firing her pistol at the mass of goo. The bullets barely slowed it down, but that wasn''t her goal. She just needed to buy time.

    With Vanguard fully activated, Vomi''s senses sharpened to near-superhuman levels. The symbiote-enhanced speed allowed her to dodge the next attack, but the creature was relentless, morphing and expanding with every hit. It was growing, feeding off the environment and energy around it, and Vomi knew she couldn''t keep dodging forever.

    "This thing isn''t just a symbiote," Vanguard noted grimly. "It''s merged with nanotech. It can adapt, reform... it''s becoming stronger the longer we fight.¡±

    Vomi''s heart pounded. She could feel the heat of the symbiote coursing through her veins, ready to lash out, but something inside her hesitated. This wasn''t just about brute force anymore. She needed a strategy. Something smarter.

    Vomi gritted her teeth and darted toward the facility''s power conduit-a large, rusted breaker box hanging on the wall. She fired two shots, hitting the panel and sending sparks flying. The lights flickered wildly, and for a moment, the creature hesitated, its form rippling like liquid caught in an electrical current.

    "Vang, hit it hard!" Vomi yelled, knowing that this might be her only opening.

    Vanguard roared, surging through Vomi''s body, their combined strength amplifying her next move. She launched herself forward, a blur of speed and power, slamming into the creature with enough force to drive it back. The symbiote''s tendrils flailed, but the electrical surge from the damaged power conduit seemed to disorient it, slowing its regeneration.

    Vomi gritted her teeth, using every ounce of strength Vanguard gave her to pin the creature against the exposed wires. Electricity coursed through the creature, causing it to writhe and convulse violently. Its screeches echoed through the facility, a deafening, inhuman wail that made Vomi''s skin crawl.

    For a moment, it seemed like they might have the upper hand. The creature was weakening, its form destabilizing under the constant electrical surge.

    But then, it adapted.

    The goo reformed, shifting away from the direct current, and with a sickening slurp, it surged toward Vomi again. She barely managed to leap back as it lashed out, tendrils snapping like whips. One tendril grazed her leg, burning through her pants and searing her skin. She hissed in pain, but Vanguard quickly suppressed the feeling, numbing her enough to keep fighting.

    "We can''t hold it here forever," Vanguard warned. "It''s evolving too fast.¡±

    ¡°Then consume it!¡±, Vomi ordered.

    ¡°What?! We can have serious problems if¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do it!¡±

    Vanguard hesitated for a split second, his voice laced with uncertainty. "You realize what you''re asking for, right? This thing is more than just another symbiote¡ªit''s a hybrid, full of nanotech. We could end up more like it than it ends up like us."

    Vomi¡¯s face tightened in resolve. "We don¡¯t have a choice. If we don¡¯t consume it, it¡¯ll consume everything."

    With a low growl of acceptance, Vanguard surged through her body again, tendrils of his own symbiotic mass extending outward. Vomi could feel the shift immediately¡ªVanguard was no longer merely her protector, but a predator, his instincts sharpened into something primal and ravenous.

    "Brace yourself," Vanguard warned, his voice more feral than usual.

    The black tendrils of Vanguard met the goo-like creature mid-lunge, and the two symbiotes clashed, merging and tearing at one another in a sickening display of biological warfare. Vomi staggered back as the two entities fought for dominance, feeling Vanguard¡¯s hunger and the foreign nanobots fighting back.

    Searing pain shot through her veins as the nanotech from the enemy symbiote attempted to invade her body, but Vanguard¡¯s presence was overwhelming, consuming every inch of the rogue symbiote it touched. Vomi''s vision blurred as the world around her seemed to pulse with the ebb and flow of the symbiotic battle.

    "It¡¯s fighting me," Vanguard snarled. "Trying to rewrite us. I can hold it off, but..."

    Vomi¡¯s knees buckled, and she hit the floor hard, struggling to stay conscious. Her body was caught in the middle of a war between two powerful forces¡ªone trying to break her down, the other fighting to maintain her integrity. The lines between them began to blur as she gasped for breath.

    But Vanguard was winning. Bit by bit, he consumed the rogue symbiote, integrating parts of it into himself, but it was dangerous¡ªshe could feel it. His essence was changing, warping under the influence of the nanobots, adapting faster than she had anticipated. It wasn¡¯t just a fight for survival anymore¡ªit was evolution.

    With a final surge, Vanguard ripped the last of the rogue symbiote apart, absorbing it into himself. The tendrils retracted into Vomi''s body, leaving her gasping on the cold, metallic floor, her vision spinning.

    The room was silent, save for the hum of electricity and the distant echoes of machinery. Vomi lay there for what felt like an eternity, her heart racing, her body trembling from the strain. She could feel Vanguard inside her, but he felt¡­ different.

    "It¡¯s done," he said, his voice low and rough. "But... we¡¯ve changed."

    Vomi closed her eyes, forcing herself to stand despite the searing pain in her leg and the overwhelming fatigue. She could feel Vanguard¡¯s presence¡ªstronger, but also more alien. The nanotech had become part of him, and by extension, part of her.

    "We¡¯ll deal with it later," Vomi muttered, staggering toward the exit, the symbiote suit slowly retracting. "We need to get out of here before anyone else finds us."

    As she reached the surface, Sasha was still on the Colby as Vomi came into view, the engine still running. Sasha spotted Vomi through the windshield and jumped out, running toward her.

    ¡°Vomi! You made it!¡± Sasha¡¯s relief quickly turned to concern as she took in Vomi¡¯s battered appearance. ¡°What happened to your eyes?¡±

    ¡°My eyes?¡±, She asked, looking at the car¡¯s mirror.

    Her sclera was turned black, while her eyes became even more red than before.

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡±

 Chapter 13: A New Mate, a New Name.

    Sasha Yakovleva

    Sasha was a simple person. She liked cute things, anything that made her forget the fact that she existed in a world where chrome and drugs mattered more than real human connections. That¡¯s the thing¡ªshe wasn¡¯t into this fucking system. A system where corpos and their twisted rules dictated every part of your life, where even your worth was tied to how many numbers you could push or how much profit you could squeeze out. Her mom played the game. Her sister, too¡ªuntil she became a cop, an NCPD badge on her chest, just another piece of Night City corruption.

    That¡¯s why Sasha left. She couldn¡¯t stand Night City anymore, couldn¡¯t go back without feeling the weight of how broken it all was. The city turned people rotten¡ªgood cops turned into dirty scum, decent folks corrupted, sold out for a shot at survival. Half the NCPD were trash, the kind that deserved a bullet.

    At least San Fran tried to keep it together. The city had its gangs and messed-up parts, sure, but it wasn¡¯t a complete cesspool. Here, you could get by, maybe even make a difference. Hell, people were practically encouraged to become mercs, clean up the streets a bit, and make a little cash in the process. Sure, you might end up dead in a back alley¡ªor just vaporized if things went south¡ªbut the option was there.

    San Fran didn¡¯t care if you were a Netrunner or if your methods were a little... questionable. Nobody cared about crime unless it cut into corporate profits. That¡¯s what Sasha liked about it. She could be herself, fight her own battles, hack the corpos for cash, and still sleep at night knowing she¡¯d made things just a little better.

    So when she picked up a contract to track down some corpo analyst on HustleNet, she didn¡¯t think twice. Sure, the pay was decent, and yeah, learning more about how to screw over corpo scum would come in handy back in Night City. There was just one little problem.

    The woman who hired her didn¡¯t act like a corpo.

    In fact, Sasha wasn¡¯t even sure Vomi was one.

    Who hires a Netrunner, saves her from brain-frying herself, and has a friggin¡¯ cat? Vomi wasn¡¯t like any corpo she¡¯d ever met. That weird cat alone made her suspicious, but it was the way she handled everything¡ªlike she actually gave a damn¡ªthat made Sasha question everything.

    Even after they saved Takeo, Vomi didn¡¯t just run out like any other corpo would. She stayed behind, fighting God-knows-what in that facility. And when Vomi finally staggered out of the building, it wasn¡¯t the same woman who had gone in.

    Sasha¡¯s blood turned cold the moment Vomi came into view. The woman was barely standing, her clothes torn, blood dripping from wounds that shouldn¡¯t have been survivable. But it was her eyes that sent a jolt of fear straight through Sasha¡ªdark, red-black eyes that didn¡¯t belong to any human Sasha had ever met.

    ¡°The fuck?¡± Vomi muttered, staring at her own hands like she couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing.

    Then it happened¡ªtendrils, black and red, shot out of her body, writhing like living shadows. They lashed toward the Colby, ready to tear it apart, but before they could do any damage, they stopped. Vomi blinked, and with a shuddering breath, the tendrils slowly retracted, dissolving back into her skin as if they were never there.

    Sasha was on the ground, heart pounding in her ears, staring wide-eyed at the woman in front of her. ¡°K-kitty¡­?¡± she whispered, her voice shaky with fear.

    Vomi glanced over at Sasha, her expression conflicted¡ªlike she didn¡¯t know if she should apologize or tell her to run. "Yeah... about that."

    Sasha¡¯s brain was doing flips, trying to process what she had just seen. Was this... normal? Did Vomi have some kind of cyber-psycho thing going on? Or was it something worse? Something the corpos were messing with that shouldn¡¯t even exist.

    Sasha slowly got to her feet, still trembling. ¡°Vomi¡­ what the hell was that?¡±

    Vomi didn¡¯t answer right away. She just leaned back against the Colby, her breathing ragged, trying to regain control of herself. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice low and exhausted.

    ¡°It''s complicated. You don¡¯t wanna know.¡±

    Sasha stared at her, disbelief written all over her face. ¡°I do wanna know. You just sprouted tentacles like some kind of hentai! What the hell am I dealing with here?¡±

    Vomi let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Symbiote. That¡¯s what you¡¯re dealing with. But trust me, I¡¯m still me. At least¡­ for now.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Symbiote? Like¡­ alien shit? Or corpo black-ops bullshit?¡±

    ¡°Both. Long story.¡± Vomi pushed off the Colby, wincing in pain. ¡°But right now, we need to get Takeo out of here. We¡¯ll talk later.¡±

    Sasha didn¡¯t move, still staring at Vomi like she was seeing her for the first time. A million questions swirled in her head, but she knew now wasn¡¯t the time. They had to move, and fast.

    ¡°Alright,¡± she muttered, shaking her head. ¡°But I¡¯m holding you to that. Later, we¡¯re talking.¡±

    Vomi nodded, limping toward the Colby. ¡°Deal. Now let¡¯s get out of here before something else decides to show up.¡±

    As Sasha climbed back into the driver¡¯s seat, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that whatever was going on with Vomi, it was way bigger than she had signed up for. Symbiotes? Tentacles? Corpo experiments gone wrong? This was Night City-level madness, and she hadn¡¯t left that hellhole just to fall into something even worse.

    "This is so preem," Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed from the back seat, purring with amusement.

    Sasha groaned. ¡°Not now, kitty.¡±

    Then it clicked, ¡°Wait, you can talk?!?¡±

    <hr>

    Vomi sighed again, pacing the small apartment, her mind racing with the weight of everything that had just happened. The dim lights flickered in sync with her restless thoughts, the atmosphere thick with tension. She could feel Vanguard¡¯s presence merging deeper within her, a constant reminder that she was no longer just herself. Everything had changed, and not in a way she could easily undo.

    Sasha was still staring at Vanguard, now perched on her shoulder, the weight of a talking cat just as surreal as the tentacles healing Takeo. It wasn¡¯t just about Vomi anymore. Now Sasha knew. And the truth? That truth could burn everything down around them if it got out.

    "I need your discretion on everything that happened there," Vomi repeated, stopping to face Sasha directly. Her voice was calm, but the weight behind her words was undeniable. There was no sugar-coating it; Sasha was now involved in something far beyond any merc job.

    Sasha¡¯s eyes flickered from Vomi to Vanguard, then to the tendrils, still working on Takeo. She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it all. "I¡­ do I even have a choice in the matter?" she asked, shaking her hands, trying to ground herself in some kind of reality.

    ¡°No.¡± Vanguard¡¯s voice was a low growl, his form shifting slightly as red lines pulsed through his fur, a sign of the symbiote¡¯s recent evolution. ¡°Unless you want to get flatlined.¡±

    Sasha paled. "I do very much don''t want to be flatlined," she said quickly, still unable to take her eyes off the cat. The fact that she was talking to a sentient, symbiote-infused feline was still frying her brain, but survival instincts were kicking in now.

    ¡°Then listen to my host,¡± Vanguard demanded, his tone firm but strangely calm.

    ¡°Yes, I will,¡± Sasha agreed, holding her hands up in surrender, her gaze flickering to Vomi.

    Vomi let out a slow breath, her nerves still on edge from the fight, the chaos, and now the burden of secrecy. At least they were in her apartment, a safe enough space for now. Takeo lay unconscious on the couch, his breathing steady, the red tendrils from Vomi¡¯s back weaving in and out of his skin like living sutures. They pulsed gently, working to heal his wounds with an efficiency that no med-tech could replicate.

    ¡°This is me now,¡± Vomi gestured to herself, unamused. ¡°Got Vanguard integrated with me in Night City, and these things¡ª" she gestured to the tendrils, "¡ªjust showed up tonight.¡±

    Sasha, still in a mild state of shock, let out a bitter laugh. "Night City? Why am I not, and at the same time, totally surprised?" she said, almost scoffing. Night City was a magnet for bizarre, horrific tech and corpo experiments. It figured that something as insane as this would come from that place.

    Vomi frowned, understanding the cynicism but not appreciating it. "Probably because now I, and you unfortunately, have some idea where the fuck these symbiotes came from in the first place."

    Sasha¡¯s eyes widened at that. "And where¡¯s that?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as if she didn¡¯t really want to know.

    Vanguard, ever the dramatic one, leapt from her shoulder to the coffee table, his gaze sharp and unblinking. ¡°The Blackwall.¡±

    Sasha flinched, her body tensing at the mention of the infamous digital barrier. "The Blackwall? Like¡­ the Blackwall? That thing¡¯s just supposed to keep AIs from leaking out into our world, right? What the hell do symbiotes have to do with that?"

    Vomi shook her head, ¡°Not exactly. Symbiotes aren''t mechanical or artificial in any way. They are entirely biological, that itself puts a lot of questions, but those can be answered later.¡±

    ¡°The thing is,¡± Vanguard started as he paced on the table, also incredibly distressed, ¡°This knowledge was found by BioTechnica once to create me, but now a minor corporation did the same thing, all the way here in San Francisco.¡±

    The red symbiote in Vomi''s back became slightly unstable, the tendrils not wanting to do what their owner ordered them to, but as a grimace was shown in her face, the tendrils slowly got back to work.

    But it was obvious that it drained the scientist mentally.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±, Sasha asked, slightly concerned. More to herself than anything else.

    ¡°I can manage for now.¡±, She replied, not really reassuring though.

    ¡°BioTecnica¡­¡±, Sasha mused angrily, ¡°Of course they''d do something like that¡­¡±

    Vomi nodded, her expression grim. "BioTechnica''s always been on the cutting edge of genetic and biotech research, but symbiotes¡­ They''re something else entirely. Vanguard''s proof that whatever they''ve tapped into, it goes beyond anything we understand. And now, with KanedaCorp trying to break the Blackwall, it¡¯s clear that these corporations are playing with fire.¡±

    Sasha paced back and forth, her frustration bubbling over. "I left Night City to get away from corpo bullshit like this, and now you''re telling me that it''s not just BioTechnica, but other minor corps trying to do the same thing out here? And with symbiotes? What the hell is wrong with these people?"

    Vanguard, perched on the coffee table, watched her calmly. "They''re after power. They always are. The Blackwall was built to keep rogue AIs in check, but what they don¡¯t tell you is that it also serves as a barrier for things like us¡ªentities that don¡¯t belong in either the digital or biological realms."

    Vomi let out a tired sigh, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She could feel the strain from the symbiote¡¯s unstable behavior. The red tendrils were like restless predators, constantly seeking control, constantly pushing her limits. It wasn¡¯t just a fight against the corporations anymore¡ªit was becoming a fight for her own sanity.

    ¡°I can¡¯t let this get out of hand,¡± she murmured, half to herself.

    Sasha glanced at Vomi, the fatigue and tension written across her face. She wasn¡¯t just another corpo or scientist anymore. This thing inside her¡ªVanguard, the symbiote, whatever it was¡ªit had changed her in ways no one could fully understand. But it also made her vulnerable.

    ¡°Look,¡± Sasha said, her voice softening, ¡°I don¡¯t know what your plan is, but if we¡¯re going to take on both BioTechnica and KanedaCorp, we need to know more. You need to get a handle on¡­ all of this.¡± She gestured vaguely at the tendrils, which were still slowly retracting into Vomi¡¯s back.

    Vomi straightened up, forcing herself to look more composed than she felt. ¡°We need answers from Takeo. He¡¯s been in the middle of this for longer than anyone realizes. KanedaCorp was using him to find pieces of the puzzle, but he doesn¡¯t even know what he¡¯s uncovered yet.¡±

    Sasha folded her arms, her face still etched with concern. ¡°And what if he doesn''t want to help? Or worse, what if he¡¯s too deep in to even know how?¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s voice cut through the tension, calm and confident. "He doesn¡¯t have a choice. None of us do. If KanedaCorp or BioTechnica unlock the full potential of these symbiotes, they¡¯ll break the Blackwall. And once that happens¡­ well, it won¡¯t just be AIs coming through. It¡¯ll be worse.¡±

    Sasha stared at Vanguard, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she blinked, shaking herself out of it. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s say we get Takeo to talk. What next? We can¡¯t exactly go knocking on KanedaCorp¡¯s door and ask them to stop.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡±, Vomi laughed, the tendrils in her back finally merging, ¡°We don''t even know what KanedaCorp wants or if they even succeeded with their Symbiote explorations.¡±

    ¡°But what do we do?¡±, She asked again, probing for any direction, ¡°I am all in to help you. I already have some matters to settle with BioTechnica myself, but I need some guidance.¡±

    Vomi raised a finger, her black sclera making her red iris stand out, ¡°First thing, you need to investigate everything about both KanedaCorp and M-Tech. It''s clear they are rival corporations, so the more we understand about it, the better.¡±, Vomi raised a second finger, her eyelids closing slightly, ¡°We know that Symbiotes are created, meaning that there are projects beyond the Blackwall that have, I don''t know, recipes on how to make more of them.¡±

    ¡°Meaning we need to destroy them by diving into the Cyberspace, getting the safest access possible to the Blackwall and delete everything?¡±, Sasha inquired, the whisker marks on her cheeks flaring slightly.

    ¡°Exactly.¡±, Vanguard commented as he jumped on Sasha''s head, the woman jerking awkwardly at the sudden intrusion, ¡°We already have a decoy on Night City, trying to draw attention there, but that doesn''t mean the big corpos didn''t try to replicate our success.¡±

    ¡°Even more when I was the one to discover the symbiotes.¡±, Vomi sighed, sweat dripping off her face.

    ¡°You what?!¡±, Sasha almost screamed but managed to keep it like a whisper.

    ¡°Not me, past me.¡±, The scientist explained, a long sigh leaving her throat, ¡°Amnesia.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, because that explains a lot.¡±

    ¡°When was the last time you saw a corpo scientist have basically an rogue AI level threat on her body, now two in fact, and still want to make amends?¡±, She said, almost deadpanning.

    ¡°...That''s¡­ actually a very good point.¡±

    Vomi let out a dry chuckle at Sasha''s begrudging agreement, shaking her head. "I know it''s insane. Trust me, I didn¡¯t sign up for this either. But we have to deal with it before anyone else gets their hands on this tech¡ªor worse, tries to improve it.¡±

    Sasha shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsettled. "Okay, so we¡¯re diving into Cyberspace to destroy these symbiote blueprints, digging through corpo networks, and stopping two massive corporations while avoiding getting our brains fried? Sounds like a typical Tuesday."

    Vomi¡¯s eyes darkened. "It¡¯s more than that. If these corpos break the Blackwall and start spreading symbiotes, we¡¯re not just talking about corporate warfare anymore. We''re talking about something far worse¡ªsymbiotic entities that can evolve, adapt, and control anyone. Combine that with rogue AIs? The world will be a playground compared to what happens next."

    Sasha''s face hardened. "So, where do we start? You got me in, and I¡¯m not bailing now. I just need to know who¡¯s on our side, if anyone."

    Vanguard leaped gracefully from her head onto the coffee table, his red-tinged fur glowing faintly. "For now, it''s just us. We don¡¯t know who we can trust outside of this room. Takeo has information we need, but he¡¯s a wild card. We¡¯ll need him awake and coherent before we can make any moves.¡±

    ¡°And I assume you don''t have a straight plan to pull this off yet?" Sasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Vomi gave her a tired smile. ¡°Not yet. We need to gather intel first¡ªfigure out how deep this goes. But when we do strike, it has to be decisive. No second chances."

    Sasha nodded, determination flickering in her eyes. "Okay, I¡¯m in. But if we¡¯re diving into corpo networks, I¡¯ll need access to my gear¡ªthere''s no way I''m doing this with half-baked hardware."

    ¡°Understood,¡± Vomi replied. ¡°We¡¯ll stock up on anything you need. But remember, we¡¯re not just dealing with tech. Symbiotes adapt. And if BioTechnica and KanedaCorp are smart, they''ll have countermeasures in place."

    Sasha crossed her arms, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Then let¡¯s hope they aren¡¯t as smart as they think they are."

    Vomi''s expression softened just slightly. ¡°They¡¯ll underestimate us. That¡¯s our advantage. But we need to move fast before they realize what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s eyes glowed faintly, his voice laced with a rare seriousness. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to fail. If they push past the Blackwall, this world won''t survive what''s coming next.¡±

    Sasha smirked, her feline-like features sharpening with confidence. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure they never get that far.¡±

    Vomi felt a flicker of hope rise in her chest as the team, however unconventional, began to solidify around her.

    ¡°One thing though.¡±, Sasha said as she lifted a palm and pointed at it, ¡°Where my eddies?¡±

    Oh right.

    <hr>

    Sasha was left to deal with Takeo and the whole corpo thing. For now, she is going to do a thing that if she doesn''t, it surely will go bite her ass in the foreseeable future.

    This red symbiote. It''s¡­ under control, but barely.

    So she went to the most abandoned broken building she could and decided to test the limits of her newfound companion. Her eyes were closed, and as she slowly opened them, the dark and red eyes seemed like two faint headlights, too dark to light ahead, and just bright enough to be spotted in a dark room. Vomi stood alone in the dilapidated building, its walls crumbling with age and neglect. The flicker of her crimson eyes cut through the darkness as she focused on the writhing sensation beneath her skin¡ªthe red symbiote. The thing was powerful, more so than she¡¯d imagined, but it wasn¡¯t fully hers yet. She could feel it resisting, struggling for control.

    This wasn¡¯t like Vanguard. Vanguard had been with her long enough that they were in sync, their bond stable, even if he had his own mind. The red symbiote was something else¡ªwild, raw, unpredictable.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Time to see what you¡¯re capable of.¡±, she thought, her breath steady as she prepared herself mentally.

    The tendrils shot out from her back, erupting with a ferocity that nearly knocked her off balance. They flailed wildly at first, crashing into the walls and ceiling, sending debris crumbling around her. Vomi clenched her fists, trying to reign them in, but the red symbiote had a mind of its own, lashing out with pure aggression.

    "Focus," she muttered, her voice strained as she fought for control. She could feel it, the pull, the temptation to let the symbiote take over completely¡ªto let it consume her as she had consumed it.

    But she wasn¡¯t ready to give in to that chaos. Not yet.

    The tendrils writhed, slamming into the concrete floor, cracking it with sheer force. Vomi gritted her teeth, forcing herself to breathe through the growing tension in her body. Slowly, she extended her hand, mentally commanding the symbiote to follow her lead, to stop lashing out at random and respond to her will.

    One tendril obeyed, pulling back slightly, then another. She was beginning to get a feel for it, like learning how to control a wild animal. The symbiote didn¡¯t like being ordered around¡ªit wanted to be free, unrestrained¡ªbut Vomi wasn¡¯t about to let that happen.

    "Vang?" she called out in her mind, searching for some reassurance from her other half.

    "I''m here," Vanguard¡¯s voice replied, calm but observant. "You''re doing fine, but you need to establish dominance. Show it that you¡¯re in control, or it¡¯ll consume you."

    She nodded, feeling the symbiote¡¯s energy pulse through her. With a deep breath, she forced the remaining tendrils back, making them retract into her body. It was slow, painful work, but bit by bit, she managed to regain control. The red energy faded, the tendrils receding into her spine until she stood there, panting, the silence of the empty building pressing in on her.

    For now, it was under control. But barely.

    Vanguard¡¯s voice broke the silence. "This one¡¯s not like me. It¡¯s different. More primal."

    "I know," she replied, still catching her breath. "But we need it. Whatever''s coming, we can''t fight it alone."

    "Just be careful," Vanguard warned. "The more you use it, the harder it¡¯ll be to stay in control."

    Vomi looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as the last traces of the red energy faded away. "I¡¯ll manage," she said, though she wasn¡¯t entirely sure if that was true, ¡°At least it tolerates me.¡±

    ¡°But what if it doesn''t? We can''t rely on luck.¡±

    ¡°Let me handle that.¡±, She said, firm and defiant, ¡°Fow now, let''s just jump where Thiago is.¡±

    Vomi got to the window, broken from the previous lash of the red symbiote, and just dropped to the ground, hands in her lab coat¡¯s pocket. She didn''t jump, she just fell to the ground. The super hero landing was smooth though. She entered the Colby and drove to the old rehearsal warehouse where the band was trying names. As Vomi shifted gears, she was already thinking about good names for them. Since they already had an Evanescence song, that name was in consideration, but it wouldn''t feel original. She actually needed to hear other songs they played to think about a good name.

    Vomi drove through the darkened streets, the hum of the Colby''s engine barely cutting through the late-night quiet. She kept her eyes on the road, but her mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts of the symbiote, Vanguard¡¯s warning, and the growing weight of what they were facing. KanedaCorp, BioTechnica, the Blackwall¡ªit was a tangled mess, and somehow, she''d become the thread holding it together.

    Symbiotes... beyond the Blackwall? How deep does this go?

    Vanguard¡¯s presence in her mind felt steady, reassuring, but the red symbiote was something else entirely. It was unpredictable, aggressive¡ªlike a beast coiled, waiting to strike. Vomi clenched the wheel tighter, forcing herself to focus. She didn¡¯t need distractions right now.

    As she neared the warehouse, she could already hear the muffled beats of music leaking out into the night. The band was in full swing, and Thiago was probably leading them through another set. The thought made her smile, a brief reprieve from the chaos in her life.

    She parked the Colby outside and stepped out, her hands still buried in the pockets of her lab coat. The building was old, barely holding itself together, but it had a certain charm¡ªlike a forgotten relic of a different time, just like the band.

    Vomi made her way to the entrance, pushing the heavy door open with a creak. Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the stage setup and the amps scattered around. The music hit her immediately¡ªa mix of electronic beats and heavy guitar riffs. It was raw, unpolished, but it had energy.

    Thiago stood at the front, shredding on his guitar, his face focused as he led the band through a riff. They were trying to make something unique, and for all their rough edges, Vomi could tell there was potential there.

    She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and watching for a moment. They didn¡¯t notice her yet, too absorbed in the music. It gave her time to think. A band name¡­ something that captured their essence. They were gritty, rebellious, but also had this futuristic vibe¡ªa mix of chrome and soul.

    Chromatic Soul? She mused for a second, then shook her head. Too on the nose.

    The music stopped, and Thiago finally looked up, spotting her. He grinned, setting his guitar down and hopping off the stage. ¡°Hey! Didn¡¯t expect you to come by tonight, Vomi. Thought you were knee-deep in corpo shit.¡±

    Vomi shrugged, but then a small smirk played on her lips. ¡°You said you had something special for me in the text you sent! Or did you forget already?¡±

    Raven chimed in, already understanding the teasing, ¡°Didn''t know our home boy here had game! Who could''ve thought about it?¡±

    Nieme scoffed, ¡°Thiago? All he does is play with his ¡®revolver¡¯ all day. Even Heitor has more game than this dimwit.¡±

    ¡°Who the fuck calls someone a dimwit in the year of 2076?¡±, Blaze snarked, ¡°Apparently our boy, Nico.¡±

    ¡°I thought no one called him Nico?¡±, Vomi said as she sat on the couch.

    ¡°You guys are a bunch of assholes.¡±, Thiago said in a flat and emotionless tone.

    ¡°That''s our charm. And we refuse to change it.¡±, Heitor replied, doing the classic and corny ba-dum-tss.

    ¡°Oh, you did NOT play that just now.¡±, Raven pointed at him, but her smile gave away her true feelings towards the joke.

    ¡°Can we not?¡±, Thiago protested, ¡°We just rehearsed, but we need an actual name than ¡®next bang come in¡¯, right?¡±

    ¡°I feel ya.¡±, Nieme agreed as he put his bass on the support near his seat, ¡°I thought something about¡­ Heroic Hustlers! Has a beat to it, right?¡±

    Everyone looked at him with very, very judgmental eyes.

    ¡°Everyone here agrees that Nieme is banned from naming everything?¡±, Raven raised her hand as the band leader.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°He doesn''t have a clue how to name shit.¡±

    ¡°I''m not a part of the band, but I agree.¡±

    ¡°Hmhmm.¡±

    ¡°Meow.¡±

    ¡°Are you guys serious?¡±, Nieme shouted angrily, almost grabbing his iron to make a point.

    However, everyone was already doing other stuff to even care about it.

    ¡°What kind of music do you play? Is it similar to ¡®Bring Me Up Inside¡¯ or not?¡±, Vomi asked as she thought about a new name.

    Thiago sighed, leaning back against one of the amps. ¡°We¡¯re all over the place, to be honest. Raven¡¯s into hardcore punk, Nieme¡¯s obsessed with old-school grunge, and Blaze is a metalhead. Then there¡¯s me¡ªsomewhere between electronic and alt-rock.¡±

    ¡°So basically¡­ chaos,¡± Vomi teased, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Thiago laughed. ¡°But it works. Somehow.¡±

    Raven nodded in agreement, twirling Heitor¡¯s drumsticks. ¡°It¡¯s got that raw, unpredictable energy, y¡¯know? Like, we don¡¯t follow a set formula or anything. We just play whatever feels right.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Nieme added, ¡°We¡¯re like the black sheep of whatever genre we try to fit into. No boundaries.¡±

    Vomi tapped her chin thoughtfully. ¡°Sounds like you need a name that captures that¡ªsomething that reflects the mix of styles, the unpredictability.¡±

    ¡°Chaos Theory?¡± Blaze suggested, throwing it out there with a shrug.

    Thiago shook his head. ¡°Too clich¨¦. Feels like every edgy band tries that one.¡±

    Vomi closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music from earlier echo in her mind. She could feel the rebellious spirit of the group, the clash of different sounds blending together into something both jagged and soulful. Like Cyberpunk itself, gritty but alive with a pulse that couldn¡¯t be denied.

    ¡°To be honest, I kinda need to listen to your other songs. What''s on your list? I mean, album.¡±, Vomi corrected herself before any misunderstandings.

    Raven stopped spinning the drumsticks, ¡°We do two other songs, yes. One Blaze composed when he worked as a mechanic and house furniture installer.¡±

    ¡°The lyrics don''t make sense.¡±, Heitor said as he grabbed the drumsticks from Raven''s hand.

    ¡°But the song fucking slaps.¡±, Blaze declared proudly, ¡°¡®Sides, things don''t need to make sense when they are good.¡±

    ¡°Said the Brain Potato.¡±, Nieme laughed at that, ¡°The BDs you watch also don''t make sense.¡±

    ¡°But they have such a vibe. You can''t deny that.¡±

    Nieme raised his hands in defeat, ¡°You got me there.¡±

    Thiago hummed, ¡°There is also the one Nieme composed. That one is so Samurai inspired and XBD inclined that I believe we can''t even play it in Corpo Bars.¡±

    ¡°And since when that was a problem?¡±, Raven smirked, ¡°Oh yeah, your corpo lover is here. Can''t play that anymore.¡±

    Everyone except Heitor booed Thiago.

    ¡°I am not his lover!¡±, Vomi protested, Vanguard falling from her shoulder thanks to that.

    ¡°By the way, nice optics.¡±, Blaze said as he leaned closer, ¡°Very Arasaka like.¡±

    ¡°Nowhere near my intention.¡±, She played it off. It was hard to say that it wasn''t a new pair of eyes and that her original eyes just got like this thanks to a primal symbiote.

    Speaking off, how does that work with her Cyberware?

    ¡°Vang is red too. Curious.¡±, Thiago commented.

    Vomi however was quick to change the subject, ¡°Can you play the songs for me though? It will help a lot in getting a name for the band.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±, Raven said, coffing a bit and drinking a bottle of bear, ¡°Eddies for Nothing, by Blaze.¡±

    ¡°Wait what?¡±

    Blaze immediately started the iconic guitar riff of Money For Nothing of Dire Straits, and she honestly couldn''t help but geek at the song.

    As Blaze''s fingers danced across the guitar, the unmistakable opening riff of Money for Nothing filled the room. Vomi couldn''t suppress a smile, feeling the nostalgia hit her square in the chest. She wasn¡¯t expecting this song, of all things, but she was already sold.

    Raven took the mic, her voice rough but carrying the lyrics with a raspy edge.

    "I want my... I want my... I want my MTV."

    Then Blaze joined in with the chorus, his voice gravelly yet strong, as if it were made to belt out the anthem of the working class:

    "We got to install microwave ovens

    Custom kitchen deliveries

    We got to move these refrigerators

    We got to move these color TVs."

    Vomi chuckled as the song continued, surprised at how well they were pulling it off. Despite the rough edges, there was something about this group''s chaotic energy that just worked.

    Thiago, sitting on the amp, tapped his foot to the rhythm, looking around with a knowing smirk, stopped singing to call out Vomi. ¡°Told you this one slaps.¡±

    Blaze continued to play, leaning into the next part of the lyrics:

    "Now look at them yo-yos, that''s the way you do it

    You play the guitar on the MTV

    That ain''t workin'', that''s the way you do it

    Eddies for nothin'' and your chicks for free."

    Raven sang the words with an almost sardonic tone, fitting the Cyberpunk world all too well. It wasn¡¯t about the glamor; it was about survival. The grind. And for them, the music was just as much about fighting against the system as it was about trying to live another day.

    The song built to its chorus again, Blaze¡¯s fingers nailing every note on the guitar. The energy in the room had shifted¡ªthe members were grinning, vibing to the music.

    "We got to install microwave ovens

    Custom kitchen deliveries

    We got to move these refrigerators

    We got to move these color TVs."

    As the song wrapped up, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but clap, genuinely impressed.

    ¡°You guys really pulled that off,¡± she said, still smiling. ¡°Even if the lyrics are a bit... ironic, considering where we are.¡±

    Blaze grinned, finally taking a break from the guitar. ¡°Yeah, well, irony¡¯s half the fun. Plus, it reminds me of back when I worked in the field. Fixing shit for corpos while they rake in the big eddies.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s basically the whole point of the song, right?¡± Raven added, wiping her brow. ¡°Hard work doesn¡¯t mean a thing when someone else is collecting.¡±

    Vomi nodded, but her mind was still working through the band¡¯s sound, trying to find the perfect name.

    ¡°What''s the other song though?¡±

    Thiago grinned, ¡°Ah, that''s the big one.¡±

    ¡°Killing in the Name.¡±, Nieme proudly did the classic rock symbol with his hands.

    ¡°No way! Play it! I wanna hear it!¡±, Vomi giggled as she heard the name of the song.

    She was a big fan of Rage Against The Machine.

    ¡°Alright, this time it''s you singing Nieme. My throat hurts.¡±, Raven said as she took the bass.

    Thiago settled in the amps, secondary mic near him.

    Blaze was ready with his chrome arms to play the guitar.

    Raven sat on the couch with the bass.

    Heitor was still laser focused on the drums.

    Nieme began, ¡°Very well. 1, 2, 3¡­¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!¡± Nieme¡¯s voice exploded through the warehouse, raw and electrifying. The other band members joined in, quickly following his lead, and the energy in the room surged as the iconic riff from Killing in the Name filled the air.

    The guitars screamed with power, Blaze effortlessly matching the intensity of the lyrics.

    ¡°Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!¡±

    Vomi felt the adrenaline rush through her veins. This was more than just a performance; it was a declaration of rebellion. The group embodied the very essence of defiance, and she couldn''t help but sway to the rhythm, her heart racing with the beat.

    Nieme continued with a passion that made the walls vibrate, shouting the lines that echoed the frustrations of countless souls:

    ¡°Some of those that work forces

    Are the same that burn crosses.¡±

    The raw anger in his voice resonated deeply, and Vomi¡¯s thoughts drifted to the corporate forces that sought to control everything in their lives. This song was a call to arms, a reminder that there was always a fight worth fighting.

    ¡°Now you do what they told ya!

    Now you do what they told ya!¡±

    The band harmonized perfectly, their voices blending into a chaotic yet beautiful cacophony. Heitor was a machine on the drums, pounding out the rhythm with relentless precision, while Raven grooved on the bass, adding a layer of depth that complemented the frenetic energy.

    Vomi couldn¡¯t contain herself any longer. She joined in, her voice blending seamlessly with the rest, letting the powerful lyrics wash over her:

    ¡°Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!¡±

    The warehouse pulsed with life as they played on, the notes swirling around them like a protective barrier against the world outside. This was their sanctuary, a place where the burdens of the real world couldn¡¯t touch them.

    As they reached the bridge, the tempo slowed momentarily, building anticipation. Nieme delivered the lines with fervor:

    ¡°Those who died are justified,

    For wearing the badge, they¡¯re the chosen white.¡±

    Raven exchanged a glance with Vomi, both of them sharing a moment of understanding. This wasn¡¯t just about music; it was about truth, about shining a light on the darkness that surrounded them.

    Then, without warning, the tempo crashed back in, and the chorus erupted once more. The band played harder, faster, as if fueled by the very fire of their convictions.

    ¡°Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!

    Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!¡±

    The final repetition of the chorus was deafening, each member pouring their hearts into every word, every note. Vomi could feel the symbiote within her responding to the energy, thrumming with life and power as if it, too, were caught up in the rebellion.

    As the song came to an explosive end, the last chords hanging in the air like a challenge, the band erupted into cheers and laughter.

    ¡°That was insane!¡± Vomi exclaimed, breathless from the performance. ¡°You guys are incredible!¡±

    Raven nudged Nieme with a grin. ¡°See? This is how it¡¯s done, you rock star. Maybe you should think about a solo career.¡±

    Nieme shot her a playful glare but couldn¡¯t hide his smile. ¡°Maybe I will. But only if you¡¯re my backup.¡±

    Blaze strummed a few lingering chords before putting down his guitar. ¡°Who thought that Vomi in her, eh? That was one hell of a powerful voice back there.¡±

    ¡°I just like Samurai too much.¡±, She said sheepishly.

    ¡°For someone dressed as a corpo, you don''t sound corpo at all.¡±, Raven chuckled.

    Nieme laughed too, ¡°Well, the song is heavily Samurai inspired so¡­ of course she liked it.¡±

    ¡°What about our name?¡±, Heitor commented as he brushed sweat off his brows.

    ¡°Refused.¡±, Vomi said, really confident in her suggestion.

    ¡°Refused?¡±, Thiago repeated, ¡°So¡­ straightforward.¡±

    ¡°I like it.¡±, Blaze said while cracking his knuckles, ¡°We were all denied something by society at some point. Fits perfectly to me.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Vomi said, her enthusiasm growing. ¡°Refused captures the essence of who we are. We¡¯re not just playing music; we¡¯re pushing back against everything that tries to hold us down.¡±

    Nieme nodded, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. ¡°It¡¯s a statement. People will remember it.¡±

    ¡°Plus,¡± Raven added with a grin, ¡°it sounds badass. Just like us.¡±

    Heitor stretched, looking around at the group with a satisfied smile. ¡°I can already picture our first gig. We¡¯ll get the crowd roaring.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m sure our edgy lyrics will make the corpos cringe,¡± Thiago chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°Perfect.¡±

    Vomi couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Let¡¯s give them something to really worry about.¡±

    Blaze leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°So, what¡¯s next for Refused? We need to start writing more music and refining our sound.¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Vomi replied, feeling a surge of excitement. ¡°We should have a jam session soon. Work on our original tracks and find that groove.¡±

    Raven raised her hand. ¡°Do you even know how to play something?¡±

    Vomi had her facial expressions paused for a second, before slumping on the ground, ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°No?¡±, Raven asked in disbelief, ¡°Your voice sounds really good tho¡¯. And you kinda are with us, you need to have at least something, ya know?¡±

    ¡°Well, I always sang something that was passing by on the radio, or something that I wanted to hear.¡±, She explained, recomposing herself, ¡°I''ve never really dived on music before.¡±

    Nieme shook his head, ¡°Amateur mistake. If you love music, you can''t just hear the lyrics and call it a day.¡±

    Thiago nodded, ¡°I mean, the only ones that didn''t compose a song here were Heitor and I.¡±

    ¡°You all composed something?¡±, Vomi asked, slightly surprised.

    Raven grimaced at the question, ¡°Yeah, duh. How else can we call ourselves a band? The Refused?¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡±

    Blaze got up and shoved the guitar in her hands, ¡°Go on. Try it.¡±

    ¡°Wait what?¡±

    That made Vanguard open his eyes and look at the exchange.

    ¡°Try it. It shouldn''t be as bad as you think.¡±

    Every other band member immediately started to look afraid.

    ¡°Uh¡­ But I''ve never¡­¡±

    ¡°Go on, I''ll help you get settled.¡±, Blaze continued insisting.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ Fine.¡±

    ¡°So, you hold it like this and you jam the strings like¡ª¡±

    The deafening sound that echoed towards their temples weren''t as pleasing as you might think.

    Vomi grimaced as her fingers fumbled on the strings, producing a cacophony of discordant notes that felt more like a punishment than music. The others exchanged worried glances, and she could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.

    ¡°Uh, maybe not like that?¡± Raven suggested, biting back a laugh. ¡°You might want to press down harder on the strings.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Blaze chimed in, trying to stifle a grin. ¡°Just pretend you¡¯re fighting off the corpo hounds. You¡¯ve got to channel that rage!¡±

    Vomi chuckled despite her nerves. ¡°Fighting off corpo hounds, huh? That¡¯s a vibe.¡± She adjusted her grip on the guitar, attempting to mimic the motions Blaze had shown her.

    ¡°Just relax,¡± Thiago encouraged, leaning against an amp with an easy smile. ¡°It¡¯s not about perfection; it¡¯s about having fun.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ fun.¡± Vomi muttered under her breath, still focused on the strings. She tried again, producing a somewhat better sound this time. It was still rough around the edges, but at least it didn¡¯t make anyone wince.

    ¡°Now you¡¯re getting somewhere!¡± Raven cheered, clapping her hands. ¡°Feel the music! Let it flow through you.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, I can do this.¡± Vomi took a deep breath, her pulse quickening as she struck a few more chords, her initial self-consciousness giving way to a sense of liberation. ¡°It feels¡­ good, actually!¡±

    As soon as she said that, the strings ripped apart.

    Everyone was frozen in place for a few good seconds.

    Vanguard could only chuckle silently. Completely amused.

 Chapter 14: Upgrades, people! Upgrades!

    Night City, two weeks later

    It''s been a while since this thing has existed. It was created for the sole purpose of drawing attention to itself. The black goo-ish form of a person leaped from building to building, not caring at all about damage to the environment every time it landed. All it wanted was to cause distractions, good enough to entertain itself as well as loud enough to keep BioTechnica and Militech around. And the creature was good at its job. All it needed to do was kill and leave witnesses, be them street kids, wannabes and suits that thought they were invincible just because they are corpos.

    It was almost hilarious to think that a piece of clothing and some fancy cyberware could do against an abomination that this form was. Even going as far as to use some stupid kung-fu chips to try and strike it. Hell, if iron couldn''t do shit against it, why did anyone think that throwing hands could?

    The creature carried within the old Cyberware of its creator, the old identity of Vomi Reed. The creator was a new person, a new Vomi, so to speak, so of course it would assume some new persona, a new way to explore this now unknown world. And the creature would diligently work towards his only goal. She gave it life, allowed the biomass to have some sort of existence and fun in this chaotic city, even if its ultimate goal was to die and clean the house so the creator could come back later.

    The monster loomed over some old tunnel, munching over a corpse of a Maelstrom, local gang, powerful and all, but nothing compared to the incredible intelligence and work of The Creator. One of them was watching, petrified that someone¡ªno, a monster was eating a person. A sight that even the cyberpsychos within Maelstrom would think twice about facing head on.

    Even so, that didn''t stop a tendril from piercing the gonk¡¯s skull.

    It was fine, no need to rush things. When it perished, The Creator would know that the biomass fulfilled its job.

    Even more know that Militech had an AV parking just outside of the tunnel.

    ¡°This looked like the target!¡±, One of the shouted, ¡°Cyberware readings, affirm!¡±

    The creature raised its head, black goo dripping from its maw as it felt the presence of the Militech AV hovering nearby. Its tendrils twitched, sensing the vibrations of the approaching footsteps. The sound of armored boots stomping through the tunnel echoed ominously, but the creature wasn''t concerned. If anything, it welcomed the challenge. More corpos to toy with. More distractions for The Creator.

    "Affirmative, the target is inside," a Militech soldier barked through his comms. "Engage on sight. Lethal force authorized."

    The creature grinned, or at least it seemed like a grin, as much as its twisted, inky form could manage. Its black mass began to shift, morphing into something less humanoid and more monstrous, spikes of hardened biomass emerging along its limbs. It was preparing for the inevitable confrontation.

    The first soldier entered the tunnel, visor scanning for targets. His HUD flickered as it locked onto the shifting mass in the darkness. ¡°Visual on the target! It''s... Jesus Christ, what is that?¡±

    Before he could finish the thought, a tendril shot forward, wrapping around his leg and yanking him into the darkness. The soldier screamed, a wet crunching sound silencing him moments later.

    "Hostile engaged! Requesting immediate backup!" the team leader shouted, his voice now laced with urgency.

    The AV outside hummed louder, and the sound of boots running toward the tunnel became frantic. Floodlights beamed into the dark, illuminating the grotesque silhouette of the creature as it stood over the now-limp body of the first Militech soldier. Blood dripped from its tendrils, pooling on the ground beneath it.

    "Fire! Fire now!" a voice from outside ordered.

    Bullets ripped through the air, bouncing off the creature''s goo-like surface with little effect. The creature let out a low, guttural growl, absorbing the impact with ease. As the Militech soldiers emptied their clips, it moved with unnatural speed, dodging their shots effortlessly before launching itself at the squad.

    Two soldiers were dead before they even had time to reload.

    The creature reveled in the chaos, slashing and tearing through Militech¡¯s best with its elongated claws. It could feel the fear emanating from the remaining soldiers, and it fed off of it, growing stronger with each kill. This was what it had been created for¡ªthis carnage, this destruction.

    From a distance, the AV pilot could see the massacre unfold through his cockpit¡¯s thermal vision. He gritted his teeth, swerving the AV to adjust its trajectory, aligning its missiles directly with the creature¡¯s position.

    "Missiles locked. Firing."

    The first missile roared as it left the AV, tearing through the air and slamming into the tunnel entrance, detonating with a thunderous boom. Concrete and debris exploded outward, and a thick plume of dust filled the sky. For a moment, everything was quiet.

    The Militech commander''s voice crackled over the comms. "Is it neutralized?"

    Silence.

    Then, a low, rumbling growl echoed from within the smoke. Slowly, the creature emerged, unscathed, its form having absorbed the brunt of the explosion. It stood there, its inky mass pulsating, tendrils writhing as if in response to the violence it had endured.

    It was laughing.

    The AV hovered in place, the pilot frozen with disbelief. "Impossible..."

    The creature lunged again, this time straight for the AV. It leapt into the air with terrifying speed, tendrils latching onto the sides of the vehicle, shaking it violently. The pilot swerved, trying to shake it off, but the creature clung tighter, smashing its fist through the cockpit glass.

    A single tendril shot through the pilot''s throat, ending him in an instant.

    The AV spiraled out of control, crashing into the ground with a deafening explosion that rocked the tunnel. The creature leaped off just in time, landing gracefully as flames and wreckage erupted behind it.

    Satisfied, the creature began to move on. It had caused enough destruction for tonight. But this was far from over. It knew Militech wouldn¡¯t stop¡ªthey never did. And that was fine.

    Then something caught the creature¡¯s interest.

    MaxTac. Of course.

    The creature turned, sensing the shift in the air. Its form flickered, tendrils twitching as it detected the unmistakable presence of a MaxTac unit approaching. This wasn¡¯t just another group of expendable soldiers from Militech or some untrained mercenaries. These were the elite. MaxTac, the absolute final word when dealing with cyberpsychos, abominations, and anything else that could threaten Night City¡¯s fragile order.

    This time, it knew the game was up.

    But that didn¡¯t mean it would go quietly.

    The creature¡¯s black mass shifted, hardening into dense armor-like plates as it braced itself. Its senses went into overdrive, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of movement. The heavy thud of boots on concrete echoed through the tunnel before they even came into sight. MaxTac was moving in formation, precise, methodical. There was no hesitation in their approach.

    "Target is confirmed. Engage with extreme prejudice," came the voice of the MaxTac captain over the comms. They moved with a lethal efficiency, their exo-suits gleaming under the dim streetlights as they spread out, forming a perimeter around the creature.

    In an instant, the tunnel was lit up by the sharp, focused beams of their advanced optics, scanning the creature¡¯s form for weak points. It snarled, hunching low, ready to strike.

    ¡°On my mark,¡± the captain''s voice came again, steady and calm. ¡°Three... two... one... engage!¡±

    Before the creature could even make its move, the first shot hit¡ªa high-velocity anti-material round, piercing its hardened biomass like butter. The force of the impact sent it stumbling backward, black goo splattering against the walls. It roared in pain, its form twisting and reshaping to compensate, but MaxTac didn¡¯t give it a moment to recover.

    The second wave came fast¡ªa barrage of precision explosives and EMP grenades, designed to overload the creature¡¯s bioelectric systems. The tunnel erupted in fire and smoke, but through the chaos, the creature¡¯s shriek could be heard, louder than the explosions themselves. It thrashed wildly, lashing out with its tendrils, but they were already on it.

    The MaxTac team moved like clockwork, their tactics flawless. One soldier launched a line of electrified netting, entangling the creature and grounding its attempts to shift form. Another member of the unit fired a series of nanite disruptors that began tearing through its biomass, destabilizing it at the molecular level.

    The creature was being dismantled piece by piece.

    It roared, desperately trying to free itself, but it was losing its shape, its mass shrinking as the nanites did their work. Every move it made was met with precision strikes, every tendril it tried to extend was severed before it could reach its target. The MaxTac unit was relentless.

    The captain stepped forward, drawing a high-caliber revolver from her side. Her exo-suit gleamed as she approached the writhing mass of black goo, now barely clinging to its humanoid form. She leveled the revolver at its head.

    ¡°Target neutralized,¡± she said calmly, and with a single pull of the trigger, the creature¡¯s head exploded in a shower of black biomass.

    The remains of the creature twitched for a moment before dissolving into a dark, formless puddle. The MaxTac captain holstered her weapon, nodding to her team. ¡°Good work. Clean it up.¡±

    The other soldiers moved in, collecting samples of the biomass and securing the area. There was no celebration, no acknowledgment of victory. This was just another job for MaxTac. Another night in Night City.

    As the team packed up and prepared to leave, the captain glanced down at the puddle of black goo. For a moment, something flickered in its depths¡ªa faint red glow, almost imperceptible.

    But then it faded, and all that remained was silence.

    <hr>

    Across the country, Vomi was typing in her terminal. The full work to do breach patches for M-Tech continued ever since she accidentally broke Blaze¡¯s guitar. She still felt horrible about that. At least now the corporation allowed her to bring Vanguard along, no need to merge the symbiotic cat within her, which was preem. As she typed the lines of code she couldn''t help but sigh, missing already the meetings with The Refused. Good band name. Vomi was proud that she managed to name the band.

    Then she felt it.

    The sudden, sharp pang of emptiness. The creature was gone. She stared out at the city lights, her expression unreadable.

    ¡°Goodbye,¡± she whispered softly to herself, knowing that her creation had served its purpose. MaxTac had been as efficient as ever, but they had only destroyed the distraction.

    ¡°It lasted longer than we thought.¡±, Vang nodded, his fur being a canvas of black and red. Sparkling red, ¡°They are going to take the biomass for samples.¡±

    ¡°And are we supposed to be worried?¡±, Vomi asked as she resumed her typing on the terminal, a passing thought about coffee coming to mind.

    ¡°Not really. I did say we were using useless biomass. They will only find dead matter, old DNA and corrupted flesh. They won''t be able to do anything with that.¡±

    ¡°Nice. Good thinking Vang.¡±

    ¡°I aim to please.¡±

    Vomi worked until she clocked out, her shoulder being occupied by her symbiote cat companion. The elevator had investors, office workers and other fodder employees, nothing she would or could remember even if she tried. Before leaving though, she went to the inside cafeteria and paid for a mug of coffee, because coffee is never enough.

    ¡°If humanity did anything right, it was coffee.¡±, She said after letting a bit of smoke leave her mouth.

    ¡°I agree.¡±, Another employee said as he sat at the same table as the scientist, ¡°Can''t have enough of this.¡±

    Vomi glanced up from her coffee, sizing up the guy who had just sat down across from her. He was your typical office drone¡ªcorporate suit, tired eyes, probably been staring at numbers all day. She gave him a nod and sipped her coffee.

    ¡°Long day?¡± she asked, mostly out of courtesy.

    ¡°Yeah, aren¡¯t they all?¡± he replied, rubbing his temples. ¡°Feels like I¡¯ve been running on caffeine and code for weeks.¡±

    Vomi smirked, ¡°Welcome to the club. It¡¯s all work until something blows up.¡±

    The guy laughed, clearly thinking she was joking. If only he knew what she was really up to. Vanguard purred softly on her shoulder, clearly amused by the mundane conversation.

    ¡°So, what do you do here?¡± he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

    Vomi paused, thinking about how to answer without giving too much away. ¡°Just your typical R&D work. Nothing too exciting.¡±

    ¡°Must be nice, working on the cutting edge of tech.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°If by ¡®cutting edge,¡¯ you mean a constant stream of patchwork, yeah,¡± she said with a grin. ¡°But hey, it keeps things interesting.¡±

    The guy nodded, leaning back in his chair. ¡°I hear ya. You work with that new cybercat tech? I¡¯ve seen a few around. They¡¯re pretty sick.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. ¡°Something like that.¡±

    Vang, lounging on her shoulder, yawned lazily. His red-glowing fur caught the guy''s eye.

    ¡°Whoa, is that¡­ one of those?¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Vomi said, not bothering to explain the symbiotic nature. ¡°Anyway, what department are you in?¡±

    Before he could answer, Vang''s voice echoed in her mind, "Let''s not get too friendly now."

    Vomi barely held back a smirk. "Right, gotta keep it low-key," she thought back to him.

    After a few more minutes of small talk, she finished her coffee, tossing the empty cup in the trash. ¡°Well, I better get going. Lots to do.¡±

    The guy nodded, giving her a wave as she left the cafeteria.

    ¡°Nice meeting you,¡± he said, oblivious to the fact that he just had coffee with someone who could topple corps if she wanted to.

    ¡°Likewise,¡± she called back, already thinking about what was next.

    And that was her weapon list.

    As she entered her Colby, Vomi reminded herself about her current arsenal. Nue, the pistol. Sure she modified it to have better power and fire rate, but there''s so much a pistol can do. And while yes, the Tactician Shotgun was modified, she didn''t use it a single time, nor the other bunch of guns in her apartment. And since Sasha didn''t reply to her texts, better to keep her mind occupied with this at least.

    So when she parked the car, entered her apartment, shower, new set of clothes and all, she worked on the other guns on the table.

    First one, Assault Rifle.

    There was a good list of ARs she could choose, but the main thing was to use something with decent power, nice ergonomics and easy maneuverability. That usually meant that Vomi needed to modify the gun so it was easier to reload, reduce its weight, and of course, work on the chip so Weapon Glitch wouldn''t work on it.

    The thing is, which one to modify?

    Copperhead, by Nokota Manufacturing.

    AKA, the evolution of the standard AK-47. Decent power, decent fire rate, desirable range and ergonomics, despite being the upgraded AK-47. The only attachment she could put in without modifying the gun completely was the muzzle and the scope, which wasn''t anything bad, but not good too, so the Copperhead is a pass.

    HJSH-18 Masamune, by Arasaka.

    The rifle is almost like a semi-automatic thanks to its terrible fire rate, but the gun packs a real kicker with its power. Ergonomics could be tweaked a bit to reload it faster. The caliber is high, meaning that reloading it is awkward, but it is fine as long as the magazines can pack all the bullets. Despite the good power, the lack of speed doesn''t entice Vomi to even modify this iron, as it would certainly be way more difficult than it needed to be. She could just buy another gun without the problems and call it a day.

    M251S Ajax, by Militech.

    The speed of this gun is even worse than Arasaka¡¯s Masamune, but at least the Ergonomics are better to maneuver, reload and modify it. Impressively enough, the Ajax packs even more power, but it sacrifices the overall build of the gun as it wasn''t made for long fights, it seems. The gun might jam itself if used incorrectly, but that could be solved if Vomi has the patience to deal with it.

    Vomi sighed, staring at the array of guns spread out on the table. Each rifle had its pros and cons, but none of them felt quite right. She ran her fingers along the edge of the M251S Ajax, contemplating whether she wanted to deal with its potential jamming issue. Sure, she could modify it, maybe even turn it into something more reliable. But did she really want to sink that much time into it?

    Vang, ever observant, hopped onto the table, his glowing red eyes scanning the weapons. "Honestly, I don¡¯t get why you don¡¯t just design your own at this point. You¡¯ve got the brains and the tech."

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah, but designing a whole new weapon from scratch takes time. And patience. Neither of which I have a lot of right now."

    "Yet you¡¯re sitting here debating between subpar rifles," Vang teased, curling his tail around himself. "You want something fast, powerful, and reliable. Why not just combine what you like from each one? Hybrid the damn thing."

    She mulled that over. It wasn¡¯t the worst idea, but the logistics were tricky. ¡°You know, that''s not a bad suggestion. If I¡¯m gonna put the time in, might as well make something that doesn¡¯t compromise.¡±

    She stood up and grabbed her tools, ready to start breaking down the parts of each rifle. ¡°Copperhead¡¯s got the range and fire rate I want. Masamune¡¯s power is killer. But if I can tweak the Ajax for stability and balance, I might have something worth using.¡±

    As she worked, the apartment was filled with the rhythmic clicking of metal components and the low hum of Vanguard''s occasional commentary. The modifications started to come together, slowly forming something new, something that could hold up in any situation.

    She adjusted the scope, reworked the weight distribution, and modified the chip so that the weapon would be impervious to any hacking attempts. By the time she finished, the rifle was a sleek, deadly fusion of all three weapons.

    ¡°Well,¡± Vang said, hopping off the table and padding around to inspect the final product. ¡°That¡¯s one hell of a Frankenstein.¡±

    Vomi grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment as she wiped her hands on a nearby rag. ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s my Frankenstein. This thing¡¯s gonna be a beast in the field.¡±

    She tested the rifle''s balance, aiming down the sight and flicking the safety on and off. It felt... right. Not too heavy, but powerful enough to pack a punch when needed. It was just the kind of edge she needed for whatever came next.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna need to name it, you know,¡± Vang said, hopping back onto her shoulder, his claws digging into her jacket for balance.

    Vomi glanced at the gun, considering for a moment. ¡°How about... Chimera?¡±

    Vang flicked his tail, approving. ¡°Fitting. Multiple parts, one monster of a weapon.¡±

    With that, she put the Chimera on the table, ¡°Now, the Tactician is a reliable, good shotgun, but now that you gave me the idea¡­¡±

    Even the red symbiote flickered inside her clothes eager to work on a new carnage weapon of mass destruction.

    ¡°It seems our new roommate likes the idea.¡±, Vanguard teased as he laid down on the table.

    ¡°He is always like that when it involves killing things.¡±, Vomi puffed at the eager red appendages on her back. ¡°And why are you like that on the table?¡±

    ¡°I want scratches on my tummy.¡±, He said in a flat tone.

    ¡°Eh, sure.¡±, She gave the scratches as the red tendrils picked up the plethora of shotguns to modify, ¡°First thing, automatic shotgun.¡±

    ¡°And why is that?¡±, Vanguard managed to say between his purrs.

    ¡°Pump shotguns are cool, but harder to reload.¡±, She explained, dismantling the Tactician, ¡°Besides, a magazine in a shotgun is more efficient.¡±

    Vomi worked her fingers through Vanguard¡¯s fur while her mind raced with ideas. The red tendrils on her back were already at work, dismantling the Tactician with an almost eager enthusiasm, picking apart its components with precision.

    ¡°Automatic shotguns are always more fun anyway,¡± she muttered, half to herself, half to Vang. ¡°You get the power of a pump with way faster fire rates.¡±

    Vang stretched lazily on the table, purring contentedly. ¡°I can see the appeal. No one¡¯s gonna survive a close-range encounter with that thing.¡±

    She nodded, already plotting out the modifications in her head. ¡°We need to up the ammo capacity, obviously. A bigger mag, maybe drum-fed. That way, we don¡¯t waste time reloading in the middle of a firefight. And I could tweak the recoil¡ªreduce the kick so it doesn¡¯t throw off my aim too much.¡±

    ¡°Right. But what about the aesthetics?¡± Vang said, flicking his tail lazily. ¡°I mean, if we¡¯re going full carnage, might as well make it look badass.¡±

    Vomi grinned. ¡°Thinking of adding some flair, huh? Maybe reinforce the barrel with some chrome finish, and I¡¯ll engrave something along the side. Something that screams, ¡®don¡¯t mess with me.¡¯¡±

    ¡°The victims wouldn¡¯t have time to read it anyway,¡± Vang teased.

    ¡°True,¡± she said, picking up the shell of the Tactician. ¡°But it¡¯ll feel good knowing it¡¯s there.¡±

    As the hours passed, Vomi lost herself in the work. The red tendrils operated like an extension of her thoughts, grabbing parts, adjusting components, and testing fitments. She reinforced the shotgun¡¯s frame, increased the mag size, and ensured the trigger mechanism would withstand the stress of rapid-fire shots.

    Finally, after what felt like no time at all, the new weapon came together. It was sleek, brutal, and efficient. The chrome gleamed under the apartment¡¯s dim lighting, and the drum magazine sat firmly underneath, promising devastation in every pull of the trigger.

    ¡°Well,¡± Vang said, hopping up to examine the shotgun. ¡°Looks like you outdid yourself. So, what¡¯s this one called?¡±

    Vomi gave it a once-over, admiring the result. ¡°How about... Cerberus?¡±

    ¡°Chimera and Cerberus,¡± Vang mused. ¡°Your arsenal¡¯s starting to sound like a mythological beast collection.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± she said, with a wicked grin. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see what they can do. Need to make a call.¡±

    After a quick dial of her Agent, a person picked up, ¡°Who this?¡±

    ¡°Vomi. Got some new iron I wanted to test.¡±, She said, weighing both guns on her arms.

    Raven sighed, ¡°Well, unless this is a gig, I am not really interested.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Got some trouble of my own.¡±, She sighed through her agent, tiredly, ¡°Stuff happened.¡±

    ¡°I can help if you need it.¡±

    There was a second of silence before Raven spoke again, ¡°Fine. Meet me at the warehouse district. It''s near our rehearsal place..¡±

    ¡°Sure thing.¡±, And with that, the call ended.

    Vomi directed herself to her wardrobe, changing clothes again, this time a plain tank-top shirt, sweatpants and a pair of shoes that just looked like a pair of Vans. It''s been forever since she saw these kinds of shoes. Then she noticed something different¡­

    ¡°When did I ever have a red shirt?¡±

    Vanguard, who was still in the same position, just twisted his neck towards Vomi, ¡°I guess that''s because of our new roommate.¡±

    The red symbiote and its tendrils slowly faded in her back, coloring the shirt that was a darker red to a bright vivid one.

    ¡°Preem.¡±

    The symbiote pulsed a ¡°thank you¡± in response.

    ¡°Are you going somewhere?¡±, The cat asked as he now got up, ¡°We don''t dress unless we leave the apartment.¡±

    ¡°Well, I was going to test Chimera and Cerberus, but Raven said she has some kind of problem. So I''m gonna see her.¡±

    ¡°You called her?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±, She nodded, ¡°Thought that I could beat her marksmanship on the shooting range.¡±

    ¡°And what''s her problem?¡±

    Vomi shrugged, ¡°Don''t know. She didn''t say it on my agent. Might be important.¡±

    ¡°Then let''s not keep her waiting.¡±, Vanguard jumped and perched on her shoulder, but since it''s a tank-top now, it is way harder to be comfortable.

    ¡°You better settle for the head.¡±

    ¡°A solid piece of advice.¡±

    With Vanguard now perched on her head, Vomi grabbed Cerberus and Chimera, feeling the weight of her freshly crafted weapons in her hands. They were sleek, deadly, and ready for action. She holstered them both with ease and made her way to the garage, where her Colby sat idling, waiting to tear through the streets of San Francisco once again.

    "Ready to see what Raven''s got cooking?" Vanguard asked, curling his tail around her neck for balance.

    "Yeah, but something tells me it¡¯s not going to be a simple range test," Vomi replied, slipping into the driver''s seat and starting the engine. The car hummed to life, and she sped off into the neon-lit night.

    San Francisco was as beautiful as ever¡ªflashing billboards, gangs roaming the streets, and the ever-present hum of danger in the air.

    It felt like home.

    Her mind wandered back to the conversation with Raven. There was something off in her tone, a heaviness that wasn''t usually there. Raven wasn¡¯t the type to call for help unless things were seriously messed up.

    ¡°Any idea what Raven¡¯s trouble might be?¡± Vomi asked, glancing at Vanguard in the rearview mirror.

    ¡°No clue,¡± Vanguard purred, his voice casual. ¡°But we¡¯re armed to the teeth, so whatever it is, I¡¯m sure we can handle it.¡±

    They reached the warehouse district quickly, the dark, looming buildings casting long shadows across the street. Vomi parked in front of a large, nondescript building, its rusty metal doors creaking open as Raven stepped out to meet her.

    She looked tired, her usual sharp, composed demeanor fraying at the edges. Vomi noticed right away¡ªsomething big was bothering her.

    ¡°Glad you came,¡± Raven said, her voice low. ¡°We¡¯ve got a serious situation.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Vomi asked, stepping out of the car and walking up to her, Cerberus casually slung over her shoulder.

    Raven sighed and motioned for Vomi to follow her inside. The warehouse was dimly lit, filled with crates and makeshift living spaces. It wasn¡¯t the kind of place Vomi expected Raven to hang out in.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been dealing with some¡­ personal stuff,¡± Raven began as they made their way to the back of the warehouse. ¡°And it¡¯s gotten out of hand. I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong.¡±

    She led Vomi to a room at the back, where a couple of people sat huddled together, clearly distressed. Their eyes were darting around nervously, and one of them had a nasty wound on their arm, hastily bandaged.

    ¡°They got hit by a new gang¡ªone that¡¯s moving in fast and doesn¡¯t play by the usual rules,¡± Raven explained, her voice tense. ¡°They¡¯ve got tech I¡¯ve never seen before, and they don¡¯t care about collateral damage. They¡¯re hunting these people down, and they won¡¯t stop until they¡¯re all dead.¡±

    Vomi frowned, glancing at the wounded people. ¡°And you got caught in the middle?¡±

    Raven nodded. ¡°I was trying to help them get out, but these guys are relentless. I can¡¯t protect them on my own.¡±

    Vomi crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. ¡°You¡¯re asking for backup?¡±

    Raven met her gaze, her usual tough exterior cracking just a little. ¡°Yeah. I need your help.¡±

    Vomi took a deep breath and looked (or tried looking) at Vanguard, who was watching the scene unfold from his perch.

    ¡°Well, looks like we¡¯re testing Cerberus and Chimera sooner than expected,¡± Vomi said with a smirk.

    ¡°Test what?¡±

    Vomi just showed the modified rifle and shotgun, ¡°These bad girls here.¡±

    Raven''s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of the heavily modified Chimera and Cerberus. "You don¡¯t mess around, do you?" she said, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

    "Never do," Vomi replied, casually slinging Cerberus back over her shoulder. "So, where¡¯s this gang you¡¯re dealing with?"

    ¡°They are called The Black Dagger.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. Such an edgy name.¡±

    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡±, Raven shook her head amusingly, ¡°But they are good. Every single one of them has a Cyberdeck filled with quick hacks ready to use. Even if the RAM cost is big.¡±

    ¡°All of them have Cyberdecks?¡±, Vomi said in disbelief, ¡°That''s¡­¡±

    ¡°Insane? Yeah, I know.¡±, She sighed, ¡°Apparently they aren''t in shortage of wannabe Netrunners.¡±

    ¡°I am a runner and I don''t even use a Cyberdeck. I can get my chrome zapped.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Raven agreed, pacing a bit. ¡°These gonks are cocky, and they rely too much on their tech. But they¡¯re fast, and they¡¯re hitting targets all over the city. They¡¯ve already taken out a few of my contacts.¡±

    Vomi frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a serious problem. You sure they¡¯re not backed by a corp? Cyberdecks for everyone doesn¡¯t come cheap.¡±

    Raven shook her head. ¡°No solid proof yet, but my gut tells me they¡¯ve got some serious funding. They¡¯ve been moving like they know the city¡¯s layout better than the rest of us.¡±

    Vomi glanced over at the huddled group of people in the corner. ¡°They got people on the run too?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, these poor saps have info the Black Dagger wants. Data I¡¯m not even sure they realize they have.¡± Raven sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping them hidden, but it won¡¯t be long before Black Dagger tracks them here. We¡¯ve got to move them, and fast.¡±

    Vomi leaned back, thinking. ¡°Alright, so here¡¯s what we do. I¡¯ll take point, run interference with Cerberus and Chimera. You get them out while I keep the Black Dagger off your back.¡±

    ¡°You sure you can handle it solo?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s smirk returned. ¡°You forget who you¡¯re talking to. I¡¯ve been itching for a test run.¡±

    Raven gave a resigned chuckle. ¡°Yeah, alright. Let¡¯s get this done then.¡±

    Vomi nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on Cerberus¡¯ drum mag. "Let¡¯s see if these wannabe runners can keep up.¡±

    <hr>

    The plan was simple: Raven and her group would take the back route out of the warehouse while Vomi set up a defensive position near the entrance. She found herself a decent vantage point on top of some stacked crates, giving her a clear view of the surrounding area. Vanguard, still on her shoulder, flicked his tail in anticipation.

    ¡°Think they¡¯ll come in heavy?¡± Vanguard asked, his tone curious.

    ¡°They always do,¡± Vomi replied, shifting Chimera in her hands. ¡°Wannabe runners with too much chrome always think they can muscle their way through.¡±

    She adjusted the sights on the rifle, the sleek modifications fitting perfectly in her grip. If these Black Dagger goons were as dependent on tech as Raven claimed, Chimera¡¯s anti-hack features would eat them alive.

    It wasn¡¯t long before Vomi spotted movement outside. Dark figures, moving quickly through the shadows, their silhouettes lit by the occasional flicker of a neon sign.

    ¡°Here they come,¡± Vanguard whispered, his fur bristling with excitement.

    Vomi watched as a group of six or seven Black Dagger members approached, their movements efficient but careless. They thought they had the upper hand.

    Amateurs.

    The lead runner, sporting more chrome than flesh, flicked his wrist, activating a quick hack. Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed. Weapon Glitch. She could see it in the subtle way his fingers twitched. He was trying to disable her guns before they even started firing.

    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± she muttered, feeling Chimera¡¯s chip block the hack effortlessly. The runner¡¯s smirk faltered for a split second.

    That was her cue.

    Vomi opened fire with Chimera, the gun roaring to life with deadly precision. The first three shots caught the lead runner in the chest, blowing him backward into the concrete. The others scrambled for cover, shouting commands as they realized their quick hacks were useless.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡±

    ¡°Shut up and shoot!¡± one of them barked, firing blindly in Vomi¡¯s direction.

    Cerberus was next. Vomi switched to her shotgun, leaping down from the crates as the Black Dagger scrambled. She unleashed a spray of automatic shotgun fire, the drum mag cycling perfectly as Cerberus tore through the gang members like tissue paper.

    Vomi moved with deadly precision, closing the distance before they could even react. One runner tried to rush her with a blade arm, but she sidestepped easily, firing point-blank with Cerberus. The impact sent him flying.

    By the time the dust settled, the rest of the gang was either dead or running for their lives.

    ¡°Well, that was underwhelming,¡± Vomi said, wiping some sweat from her brow.

    Vanguard flicked his tail in amusement. ¡°They really thought they had a chance.¡±

    As the last of the Black Dagger retreated, Vomi radioed Raven. ¡°Area¡¯s clear. You guys good?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Raven¡¯s voice crackled over the comms. ¡°Thanks for the cover. We¡¯re in the clear.¡±

    Vomi smiled, shouldering Cerberus again. ¡°Told you I had it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Drinks are on me tonight,¡± Raven replied. ¡°Let¡¯s meet up and debrief. There¡¯s more we need to talk about.¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°Looking forward to it.¡±

 Chapter 15: Refugees

    Vomi was taking care of Raven''s injuries, putting on some patches and bandages as she mumbled over the mess that the Black Daggers started to cause. Raven wasn''t particularly bad in her injuries, but you never know, better be safe than sorry. Vanguard was peacefully sleeping at the singer''s lap, Vomi occasionally asking if some part hurt, finishing everything by giving some old school painkillers, not even a syringe or a puff of a MaxDoc, just straight up pills.

    ¡°Pills? Those are old.¡±, She commented while gulping the pill.

    ¡°I still don''t know how people can swallow pills without water.¡±, Vomi muttered to herself, amused and annoyed.

    ¡°You swallow pills with water?¡±

    ¡°South American custom. Can''t do that without water.¡±

    Raven turned to face her, Vanguard being bothered but not leaving his place, ¡°You from there?¡±

    ¡°I''m Brazilian.¡±, She said, giving a final look at her patches and giving her shirt back, ¡°Anywhere else I should look?¡±

    ¡°No, it''s fine.¡±, Raven waved off, ¡°But you look so Asian! How come you are from Brazil?¡±

    Vomi frowned, ¡°You say that, like Brazil has any breed. We are the most mongrel place the world has any right to be.¡±

    ¡°Really? How so?¡±

    ¡°I was born and lived 10 years in Brazil. Father is Japanese, mother is Japanese descent, but Welsh, moved out and lived on England for a while when eventually I turned up in the N.U.S.A. Good thing, eh?¡±

    ¡°All hail Ma''am Worldwide.¡±, Raven made a fake bow, ¡°If so you are basically, what, triple nationality?¡±

    ¡°Technically four, but yeah, that.¡±

    Both of them chuckled.

    One of the people Raven transported opened the door, forgetting that two women were inside, ¡°Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?¡±

    ¡°No, go on.¡±, Raven replied, although her frown was visible.

    ¡°There is someone outside claiming to be your sister?¡±, He said, half disbelief, half unsurely.

    ¡°What?¡±, The singer got up from her seat, wearing her shirt.

    ¡°The name Cinthia rings a bell?¡±

    ¡°Of course it does. Shit.¡±

    Before Raven could even go out of the room Cinthia burst the door open, pushing the rescued man aside and slapping Raven''s face. The scene was so abrupt that Vanguard and Vomi didn''t know how to react. Maybe sibling love?

    ¡°What the fuck were you thinking?!?!¡±, She snarled angrily at Raven, not at all pleased with what was happening.

    Maybe not.

    Raven rubbed her cheek, glaring at Cinthia, who stood in front of her in a whirlwind of colors. Her hair was dyed bright pink, her outfit an explosion of neon greens and yellows, and her makeup was far too vivid for anyone in San Francisco to ignore. Where Raven exuded dark, brooding energy, Cinthia was like a firework, ready to go off at any moment.

    Vomi raised an eyebrow at the sudden tension, while Vanguard groggily opened one eye before yawning and stretching. ¡°Well, this escalated quickly.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you doing here, Cinthia?¡± Raven muttered, clearly trying to keep her temper in check.

    ¡°What am I doing here?¡± Cinthia threw her arms up dramatically. ¡°What are you doing here, messing around with these dangerous people and getting yourself nearly killed, huh? You think I wouldn''t find out?¡±

    Vomi leaned back slightly, watching the sisters with mild amusement. ¡°So, this is your sister?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Raven muttered, crossing her arms.

    Cinthia turned her attention to Vomi, her eyes widening with sudden excitement. ¡°Oh my God! You must be the famous Vomi! Raven talks about you all the time! She never shuts up about how good you are with guns and tech!¡±

    Vomi blinked, taken aback by the energy shift. ¡°Uh, thanks?¡±

    Raven groaned. ¡°Cinthia, seriously, now''s not the time.¡±

    Cinthia ignored her, practically bouncing in place. ¡°You have to show me some of your mods! I bet they¡¯re amazing! Do you have any neon attachments? I¡¯ve been dying to find someone who can make my gun glow like a party light!¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°I mean, I could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Cinthia!¡± Raven snapped, finally cutting through the chaos. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    Cinthia¡¯s smile faded, and she crossed her arms, staring at her sister with a mix of concern and frustration. ¡°I want to know why you didn¡¯t call me for help. I could¡¯ve backed you up. Instead, you¡¯re running around with shady gangs and getting yourself into deep shit!¡±

    Raven exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, Cin. I didn¡¯t want to drag you into this mess.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already in it, Raven!¡± Cinthia shot back, her voice softening slightly. ¡°We are the Green Rhythm! Someone messed up with my sis! Of course we are involved!¡±

    ¡°Ugh, don''t even remind me of that gang¡­ I am already trying to detach myself from it¡­¡±, Raven seemed visibly disgusted at the mention of the gang.

    ¡°Green Rhythm?¡±, Vomi couldn''t help but ask, ¡°Heard about them and their¡­ unique taste in colors. And BDs.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they have this weird reputation.¡±, Cinthia conceded, but immediately went back to Raven, ¡°But why did you risk doing it all alone! You could''ve ask for help and we¡ª¡±

    ¡°VOMI BACKED ME UP! Sheesh!¡±, The goth girl basically screamed to make her sister stop, ¡°And I won''t ever go back to that stupid gang! Stop asking!¡±

    Cinthia instead of bursting out more angrily shouts she just looked¡­ disappointed?

    ¡°Maybe you shouldn''t even¡­ nevermind.¡±

    The tone suddenly became very, very awkward.

    ¡°Thanks for saving Ven. She''s way stupider than she looks like.¡±, The green neon billboard thanked Vomi.

    ¡°Fuck you.¡±, Raven muttered.

    Vomi stood awkwardly between the two sisters, unsure whether to laugh at the absurdity or slip away unnoticed. Vanguard had no such reservations, rolling onto his back and letting out a long, dramatic yawn.

    Raven shot the cat a look, but it lacked her usual bite. She was clearly exhausted from both the physical injuries and whatever emotional baggage was tied to Cinthia. Vomi had seen Raven¡¯s tough exterior crack before, but this was something else entirely.

    Cinthia, now standing with her arms crossed, looked at her sister with a mix of exasperation and worry. ¡°Look, Raven. I get that you want to go solo and keep all your brooding dark loner things going. But we¡¯re family. You don¡¯t have to do everything alone.¡±

    Raven rubbed her temples, her voice quiet but steady. ¡°You¡¯re not listening, Cin. I¡¯m not a part of Green Rhythm anymore. I don¡¯t want that life. I¡¯m trying to do my own thing, figure stuff out, and keep people like you out of danger. Vomi¡¯s got my back, The Refused got my back, and that¡¯s enough.¡±

    Cinthia¡¯s vibrant expression faltered for a moment before she threw her hands up again, the energy shifting back to frustration. ¡°Fine. Fine! Be your dark, edgy self. But don¡¯t come crying to me when you realize you could¡¯ve used some extra neon muscle.¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Neon muscle, huh? You¡¯re really selling yourself there.¡±

    Cinthia grinned, the tension easing slightly as she looked at Vomi. ¡°Well, if you ever need a change of pace from brooding and black leather, you know who to call.¡± She winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood, even if the underlying tension still lingered.

    ¡°God, I can¡¯t with you,¡± Raven muttered, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

    ¡°Well, whether you like it or not, I¡¯m sticking around,¡± Cinthia declared, planting her hands on her hips. ¡°I can¡¯t just leave my big sis to deal with these Black Dagger freaks all by herself.¡±

    Raven groaned, ¡°The Refused are a way better company than you will ever be.¡±

    Cinthia sighed, ¡°Just remember that you have a place to go back to, alright?¡±

    Vomi glanced between the two sisters, feeling the weight of their complicated relationship. It was clear that despite all the banter and bickering, Cinthia genuinely cared about Raven¡ªand maybe even more than Raven wanted to admit.

    ¡°The Refused, huh?¡± Cinthia said, crossing her arms and leaning against a nearby crate. ¡°You really threw in with them? How edgy. Like you weren¡¯t already dark enough.¡±

    ¡°They are my friends. My band. You can''t judge them.¡±

    The neon sister turned to leave, ¡°Thanks again, Vomi. If you need any help, just ask for my name with the Green Rhythm.¡±

    Vomi, unsure how to respond, shrugged, ¡°I''ll keep that in mind.¡±

    The guy who was still there kinda just stranded at the door, ¡°Should I¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±, He left, closing the door.

    The room fell into a brief silence as the door clicked shut, leaving only Vomi, Raven, and Vanguard behind. The tension in the air slowly dissipated, though the remnants of the sisters¡¯ argument lingered.

    Vomi glanced at Raven, who was rubbing the back of her neck, clearly exhausted from both the physical and emotional strain. ¡°She¡¯s a lot, huh?¡±

    Raven let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. ¡°You have no idea. Growing up with Cinthia was like living with a human firework. She¡¯s loud, she¡¯s bright, and she explodes over everything.¡±

    ¡°But she cares about you. I can see that.¡±

    Raven rolled her eyes but didn¡¯t argue. ¡°Yeah, well, she has a weird way of showing it. Always trying to drag me back into that life. The gang, the flashy colors, the neon bullshit. It¡¯s just... not me.¡±

    Vomi leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. ¡°You don¡¯t have to explain yourself to me. I get it. Sometimes family doesn¡¯t fit with where you¡¯re heading.¡±

    Raven looked at her, and for a moment, the goth girl¡¯s usual hard exterior softened. ¡°Thanks. I just... don¡¯t want her caught up in my mess. Or dragged into all this Black Dagger shit.¡±

    ¡°You know she¡¯s not going to listen, right? That girl is stubborn.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no kidding,¡± Raven muttered, running a hand through her hair. ¡°But I¡¯ll deal with her later. Right now, we¡¯ve got a gang of psycho netrunners to worry about.¡±

    Vomi nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan? You want to go after the Black Daggers directly, or are we playing defense for these people you¡¯re protecting?¡±

    Raven stood up, brushing off her jacket as she tried to refocus, Vanguard unfortunately being negated his lap privileges, ¡°I don''t know. All I know is that they need to leave the city.¡±

    ¡°But how? Unless a caravan is passing through San Francisco we won''t have much of a chance to get them out of here.¡±, Vomi said as she paced on the room, Vanguard jumping on the back of her Tank-Top.

    ¡°I know a way.¡±, She said, picking up a dusty laptop on the nearby drawer, ¡°There is a Nomad clan moving to the south. They will pass San Francisco eventually.¡±

    She typed a bit on the net, trying to find the website where the Nomad''s posted their work schedule.

    ¡°And can we trust whatever clan this is?¡±, Vomi said as she peeked the screen over Raven''s shoulder.

    ¡°They are called the Barkers. I believe we can trust them. At least there is no noteworthy report of their actions.¡±

    ¡°There is no reports at all.¡±, Vomi deadpanned.

    Wait¡­ Barkers? Aren''t those the clan V could be on the Nomad lifepath?

    ¡°Well, regardless of if, we will need to take their lack of word for it.¡±, Raven nodded at  herself, ¡°We don''t have much of a choice.¡±

    ¡°Should we call The Refused?¡±, The scientist offered, pacing plans in her mind as she saw the route the nomad caravan was going to take.

    ¡°Please do. It''s about time we do a gig that doesn''t involve music.¡±, Raven rubbed the back of her neck, ¡°Besides, you can pay for Blaze''s guitar.¡±

    ¡°Don''t even remember about it.¡±, She still felt embarrassed about that.

    How could the first strokes on the chords rip them apart?! It made no sense!

    ¡°Sure.¡±, Raven giggled at that, ¡°I''ll send a request of transportation. They should probably accept it.¡±

    ¡°How many people are going in this ride?¡±, Vomi asked as she was already calling the band for a debrief.

    ¡°Including the people we rescued? About fifty people.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that''s a lot.¡±, Vomi mused.

    ¡°And we saved only six. Of course, these guys will pay us for the rescue, and we can split some of our gains with the Barkers, pay for the trasport.¡±

    Vomi nodded, ¡°Alright, the band will meet at the rehearsal warehouse.¡±

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Okay. Just gonna wrap this up, then we can go.¡±

    <hr>

    Raven and Vomi arrived just shortly after finishing their scout of the place where they hid the workers. After securing their location, not finding anyone, be them Black Daggers or not, they went to the Refused Warehouse. Thiago, Blaze and Heitor were there, but Nieme was missing.

    As soon as they entered, Iron was raised, forcing both women to raise their hands.

    ¡°Oh, shit!¡±, Blaze waved his shotgun down, ¡°Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°No worries.¡±, Raven smirked as the others also lowered their guns, ¡°Where''s Nieme?¡±

    ¡°Bathroom.¡±, Heitor replied in his usual way.

    ¡°Everyone is this trigger-happy?¡±, Vomi asked, slightly concerned.

    ¡°Nah, don''t worry Vomi.¡±, Thiago brushed it off, ¡°You called us saying it was a serious matter so we are kinda on edge.¡±

    ¡°Guys, enough.¡±, Raven called, ¡°Nieme! Stop jerking off on the bathroom and get your gonk ass over here!¡±

    A faint yell could be heard, ¡°How did you know!?¡±

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡±, Vomi grimaced, understandably.

    ¡°Wait, did he actually¡­?¡±, Raven was equally perturbed.

    ¡°You owe me 10 eddies, Heitor.¡±, Blaze grinned.

    ¡°Crapbaskets.¡±

    ¡°ANYWAY!¡±, Raven got everyone''s attention. She sat at the couch, her jacked failing a bit at hiding her bandages, ¡°We have a big gig ahead of us.¡±

    ¡°What happened to you?¡±, Thiago pointed at the injuries.

    ¡°Long story.¡±, Vomi didn''t offer much explanation, as she sat crosslegged beside Raven.

    Vanguard just jumped to the table at the center and laid there.

    The band gathered around, their casual banter fading as they noticed the serious expressions on Raven and Vomi¡¯s faces. Even Nieme, who had finally emerged from the bathroom, took a seat without his usual offhand jokes.

    Raven exhaled, leaning forward on the couch. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the deal. We¡¯ve got a group of people who need to get out of the city. They¡¯ve been targeted by the Black Daggers¡ªa gang of netrunners with a lot more firepower than your average street crew.¡±

    Thiago leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. ¡°Sounds messy. Why us?¡±

    ¡°Because I trust you guys,¡± Raven replied, meeting each of their gazes. ¡°And we owe them. The people we rescued didn¡¯t ask to be part of this mess, and I¡¯m not going to let them die because the Daggers decided to get greedy with new tech.¡±

    Blaze grinned, flipping a combat knife in his hand. ¡°So, we¡¯re taking on netrunners? Gotta say, I¡¯ve been itching for something that isn¡¯t a concert or bar fight.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, this isn¡¯t just about busting heads.¡± Vomi chimed in, her voice calm but serious. ¡°We need to get them out of the city quietly. There¡¯s a nomad clan¡ªthe Barkers¡ªthat¡¯ll take them south if we can reach them in time. But the Daggers aren¡¯t going to make that easy.¡±

    Heitor nodded, clearly understanding the weight of the situation. ¡°So we¡¯re escorting them to safety? What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Raven leaned back, her fingers tapping the side of the couch as she thought. ¡°We need to split up. Some of us will go ahead to scout the route and make sure there are no surprises. The rest of us stay with the people, keeping them safe until the Barkers arrive.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a stealth gig,¡± Blaze said, his grin growing wider. ¡°I like it.¡±

    ¡°More like a ''stay alive¡¯ gig,¡± Nieme muttered. ¡°These Black Daggers don¡¯t sound like they¡¯ll play fair.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Vomi agreed. ¡°That¡¯s why we need to be ready for anything. We¡¯ve dealt with gangs before, but these guys are on a whole other level. They¡¯ve got cyberdecks, quick hacks, and no qualms about taking hostages.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we have to be smart,¡± Raven added, her voice firm. ¡°We hit them before they hit us, and we get these people out safely. No heroics, just precision.¡±

    Thiago, ever the pragmatist, spoke up. ¡°And what happens if they come for us while we¡¯re waiting for the nomads?¡±

    Vomi smirked, patting the shotgun strapped to her back. ¡°Then they¡¯ll wish they hadn¡¯t.¡±

    A brief silence settled over the group as the weight of the mission became clear. This wasn¡¯t just another gig¡ªthis was life or death, not just for them but for the people they were protecting.

    ¡°So,¡± Raven said, standing up and looking at each of them. ¡°You in?¡±

    Blaze was the first to speak, flipping his knife and catching it effortlessly. ¡°Hell yeah. Let¡¯s show these Black Daggers what happens when they mess with The Refused.¡±

    Heitor nodded, cracking his knuckles. ¡°I¡¯m in.¡±

    Nieme, always the reluctant one, let out a sigh. ¡°I mean, if I have to¡­¡±

    Thiago didn¡¯t say anything, just gave a firm nod.

    Raven looked at Vomi, who was already on her feet, ready to move. ¡°Looks like the band is now a crew!¡±

    ¡°We already are a crew, dummy.¡±, Blaze said offhandedly as he turned to Vomi, ¡°This better pay me a new guitar.¡±

    ¡°I already told you I didn''t mean it!¡±, Vomi defended herself immediately.

    ¡°Pfft!¡±, He held off a laugh, ¡°Still easy to mess with.¡±

    ¡°Oh shut up.¡±

    ¡°Enough, chooms.¡±, Raven called again, ¡°We need a truck. Thiago, do you still have yours? I don''t want to use our van to transport fifty people.¡±

    Thiago nodded, ¡°Yeah, I do. Still I need to do some checks before getting everyone. Heitor, Nieme, can you come with me?¡±

    Both just gave a thumbs up.

    ¡°That means we will gather everyone.¡±, Vomi commented, ¡°Did the Barkers answered the request?¡±

    ¡°They did. We can hit them up tonight if we are smart about this.¡±, Raven said as she quickly checked over her agent.

    Heitor pointed at Vomi''s Colby, ¡°I drive.¡±

    ¡°No problem. We''ll meet outside San Fran.¡±, Vomi told to the boys.

    ¡°Alright, C-YA.¡±, Thiago waved as they left.

    As the guys headed out, the room fell into a brief silence, the weight of what lay ahead sinking in. Raven adjusted her jacket and looked at Vomi. ¡°Think we can handle rounding everyone up without the guys?¡±

    Vomi shrugged, adjusting the strap of her shotgun. ¡°We¡¯ve done worse with less. Besides, if these people want to live, they¡¯ll follow us without much fuss.¡±

    Raven cracked a small smile, though it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s hope it stays that simple.¡±

    Vanguard hopped down from Vomi¡¯s shoulder, stretching lazily before trotting towards the door. ¡°If we¡¯re going, let¡¯s go. I¡¯m not a fan of this dramatic waiting.¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°Even the cat¡¯s ready.¡±

    ¡°More ready than most of us,¡± Raven muttered, grabbing her pack and heading for the exit. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. The sooner we get these people to the Barkers, the sooner we can stop worrying about the Black Daggers showing up.¡±

    Vomi followed, her mind already running through various scenarios. As they walked, she glanced over at Raven. ¡°Think your sister¡¯s gonna show up again?¡±

    Raven let out a long sigh. ¡°Knowing her? Probably. But I¡¯d rather deal with Cinthia than a swarm of netrunners trying to fry our brains.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s one way to look at it,¡± Vomi replied with a smirk. ¡°Neon-colored headaches aside, she seems like she genuinely cares about you, though.¡±

    Raven grunted, clearly not in the mood to dive into family drama. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough ¡®she cares about you¡¯ speeches for the day.¡±

    Heitor who was already at the drivers seat, rushed them to enter the car, ¡°C''mon. We can dwell on family matters when¡­ when¡­ when we aren''t at the risk of dying.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±, Raven agreed, entering the passenger seat.

    As soon as Raven was in, Vomi slid into the backseat beside Vanguard, who curled up on her lap, looking unimpressed with all the commotion. Heitor floored the gas pedal, and the car sped down the dimly lit streets of San Francisco.

    ¡°Where are we meeting the Barkers again?¡± Heitor asked, his eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, always cautious of a tail.

    ¡°Outside the city, near the old docks,¡± Raven replied, pulling up a map on her agent. ¡°They¡¯re laying low, but we have to move fast. If the Black Daggers catch wind of us, this whole thing goes to hell.¡±

    Vomi kept her eyes trained on the buildings flashing by, her nerves tingling with the same unease she¡¯d felt earlier. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope their netrunners are taking the night off.¡±

    Heitor let out a dry laugh. ¡°Knowing our luck? Not a chance.¡±

    The car sped through the quieter, industrial outskirts of the city. The tension in the car was palpable, the kind that settled in before a storm. Vomi could feel it in the pit of her stomach¡ªthe inevitability of something going wrong.

    As they approached the meeting point, a low whistle came from the passenger seat. Raven was leaning forward, staring at the small convoy of Nomad vehicles parked in the distance.

    ¡°Looks like the Barkers are here,¡± she said, relief mixed with wariness.

    The cars were rugged, built for off-road travel, with armored plating and modified engines that hummed with power. Nomads never did things halfway. Heitor pulled up next to the convoy, and as they got out of the car, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a worn leather jacket approached them. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp, scanning them all with the intensity of someone who¡¯d seen too many battles.

    ¡°You must be Raven and her crew,¡± he said, his voice gravelly but calm.

    ¡°That¡¯s us,¡± Raven confirmed, stepping forward. ¡°You the one in charge here?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Name¡¯s Red Barker. We¡¯re set to head south, but you got a lot of people for a quick getaway.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep them in line,¡± Vomi chimed in, her eyes scanning the convoy and mentally calculating how much space they had. ¡°We just need them out of San Francisco, and we¡¯ll make sure it doesn¡¯t get messy.¡±

    Red gave a curt nod. ¡°That¡¯s what I like to hear. We move fast, and we don¡¯t stop unless we have to.¡±

    The rescued workers began to gather, huddling together as they were guided towards the Nomad trucks. The Refused arrived shortly after, and Blaze and Thiago helped organize the crowd, while Nieme and Heitor double-checked the transport vehicles.

    Raven turned to Vomi. ¡°Let¡¯s keep watch. If the Black Daggers are gonna strike, it¡¯ll be soon.¡±

    Vomi nodded, her hand instinctively going to her sidearm. ¡°Yeah. I can feel it in the air.¡±

    As Vomi was scanning, something caught her interest. There was a specific car there that just brought her attention. It was a red Thornton Galena. She couldn''t help but check the chassis and faintly remember where it was from the game. Then at the side of the car was a single engraving that almost made her realize, if not for the owner of the car showing up.

    ¡°You got a problem with my wheels?¡±

    Vomi turned to look at who said that, but before she could say anything, she saw him.

    It was V. The same V from Cyberpunk 2077. The same in the promotional materials of the game.

    She held up a lot to not just hug him at sight.

    ¡°No! Nothing like that!¡±, She raised her hands in surrender, almost religiously at V, ¡°I just¡­ never seen a Rattler so heavily modified! That''s all!¡±

    ¡°Well, it''s an old car, but it does the trick.¡±, V patted the roof of the car, but then turned to Red, ¡°Hey, Barker! Watcha got on the refugees?¡±

    Red turned to V, his face showing both amusement and minor anger, ¡°Nothing much. But expect the Black Daggers to come up shooting.¡±

    ¡°Fuck. Things are never easy.¡±, V mumbled.

    Vomi stood there, trying to hold her composure as V casually leaned against his heavily modified Thornton Galena, looking as cool as the legend he was known to be. The combination of her excitement at seeing him and the tension of the situation was almost too much to handle.

    Raven, noticing Vomi¡¯s barely contained enthusiasm, raised an eyebrow. ¡°You alright?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Vomi replied quickly, tearing her eyes away from V and forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. ¡°Just... admiring the car.¡±

    V, seemingly oblivious to her fan-girl moment, lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the chilly night air. ¡°Admire it all you want, just make sure we get these people out of here alive. Black Daggers aren¡¯t exactly known for letting people go without a fight.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Raven said, her voice tense but steady. ¡°We¡¯re not looking for a fight, but we¡¯ll be ready if they bring one.¡±

    V glanced over at Raven, studying her for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re with The Refused, right? Heard about you guys. Not bad for a bunch of musicians.¡±

    Raven smirked. ¡°We can do more than just play gigs. You¡¯ll see.¡±

    V nodded, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground and crushing it under his boot. ¡°Good to know. Let¡¯s hope we won¡¯t need to see it in action tonight.¡±

    Vomi couldn¡¯t help but chime in, her voice filled with nervous energy. ¡°So, uh... what¡¯s the plan? We just wait and see if they show?¡±

    V shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s about the size of it. If the Daggers want to make a move, they¡¯ll probably do it before the convoy heads out. They don¡¯t want these people getting away clean.¡±

    Red stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest. ¡°We¡¯ve got everything prepped. Just waiting for the refugees to arrive before we hit the road.¡±

    Vomi glanced at the horizon, the distant lights of San Francisco flickering like a bad omen. ¡°Something feels off. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the calm before the storm, or if we¡¯re already in it.¡±

    Raven turned her head slightly, her voice low. ¡°Stay sharp. They¡¯ll strike when we least expect it.¡±

    Just as Raven finished speaking, the faint sound of engines revving echoed in the distance. Vomi¡¯s heart skipped a beat, her instincts kicking into overdrive.

    Heitor, who was still on the Colby, grabbed his sniper suddenly, ¡°I have a bad feeling about this.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± V said, his voice calm but filled with the kind of experience that comes from surviving countless firefights. He flicked the safety off his gun and looked at Red. ¡°You ready?¡±

    Red nodded, barking orders to his crew to take defensive positions around the convoy. Blaze, Nieme and Thiago didn''t arrive, but the Daggers did.

    Vomi took her place next to Raven, reloading the Chimera. ¡°This is it. You think we¡¯re ready?¡±

    Raven tightened her grip on her rifle, her eyes focused on the approaching lights. ¡°We¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±

    The roar of the Black Daggers¡¯ bikes and cars grew louder, and in the blink of an eye, the first shots rang out, shattering the quiet night.

    The first bullet whizzed past Raven''s head, ricocheting off a nearby metal crate. ¡°Shit!¡± she ducked instinctively, pressing herself against the cover. Vomi was already crouched down beside her, her Chimera humming with readiness.

    "Here we go!" Vomi muttered under her breath as she peered over the crate, scanning the incoming vehicles. She could spot the signature glowing masks of the Black Daggers, illuminated by the headlights of their bikes and cars.

    Heitor was already firing off precise sniper shots from his elevated position on the Colby, picking off riders from their speeding bikes with cold efficiency. "Two down!" he called out, voice steady despite the chaos unfolding around them.

    Red''s crew was quick to retaliate as well. Positioned behind overturned trucks and sandbags, they unleashed a hail of gunfire toward the oncoming assault. The air filled with the deafening cracks of gunfire and the screeching of tires as the Daggers advanced.

    Vomi aimed her Chimera, squeezing off rapid shots toward the lead car. Her bullets tore through the windshield, sending the vehicle careening off course and crashing into a stack of crates. The explosion rocked the ground beneath them.

    ¡°Nice shot!¡± Raven shouted, popping up to fire off a burst from her rifle before ducking back down as return fire rained around them.

    V, as calm as ever, was already in motion. He darted through the chaos like a shadow, firing off quick, precise shots with his pistol. A Black Dagger netrunner tried to outflank them, but V was faster, dropping the hacker with a single headshot before disappearing behind cover again.

    The Black Daggers were relentless. More vehicles approached, and from the corner of her eye, Raven spotted a netrunner plugging into a portable terminal in the back of a van. ¡°Vomi! They¡¯ve got a netrunner trying to fry our systems!¡± she shouted, pointing.

    ¡°Not for long!¡± Vomi growled, pulling out her own laptop. ¡°Cover me!¡± she yelled, jacking into the network as Raven laid down suppressive fire, keeping the netrunner''s goons from advancing.

    Vomi''s eyes glazed over as she dived into the digital battlefield, her fingers flying across her interface as she fought to block the Dagger netrunner¡¯s attacks. Sparks flew from the portable terminal as she clashed with the enemy¡¯s ICE, sending back counter-attacks with ferocious precision.

    "Got you," Vomi muttered through clenched teeth as her final breach caused the enemy netrunner''s system to overload, sending a jolt of electricity through their body. The van¡¯s lights flickered before shutting down entirely.

    ¡°They¡¯re down!¡± Vomi called out, yanking her plug from the laptop.

    But before they could celebrate, another wave of bikes stormed in from the left flank. One of the bikes peeled off, heading directly toward them, a crazed Black Dagger screaming as he revved his engine. V glanced up from his cover and calmly aimed his pistol.

    Bang. One clean shot, and the biker crumpled, his bike skidding and flipping violently before crashing into a barrier.

    ¡°Never gets old,¡± V muttered with a smug, already searching for the next target.

    The battle raged on, each second feeling like an hour as Vomi, Raven, and the crew fought off wave after wave of the Black Daggers. Explosions lit up the night, and gunfire echoed through the empty streets.

    Then, just as suddenly as it started, the attack began to wane. The Daggers, seeing their numbers dwindle, began to retreat, engines roaring as they sped away into the distance.

    For a moment, there was only silence. The team remained tense, scanning the horizon for any sign of a second wave.

    ¡°They¡¯re pulling back,¡± Vomi finally said, lowering her weapon and letting out a breath she hadn¡¯t realized she was holding.

    Red emerged from his cover, glancing around at the aftermath. ¡°That was close,¡± he said, shaking his head.

    V holstered his pistol, surveying the wreckage and the retreating taillights of the Daggers. ¡°They¡¯ll be back, but we bought ourselves some time.¡±

    Raven leaned against a crate, exhausted but relieved. ¡°Let¡¯s not waste it. We need to get these people out of here, now.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of the devil.¡±, Heitor commented as he saw Thiago''s truck.

    ¡°Sorry for the delay! Everyone is here!¡±, Blaze shouted from the truck''s window.

    Red raised his hand, ¡°Alright! Everyone! Gather the people on the cars and trucks. V! You go and see if any of ours are injured. I''ll take care of the eddies.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, choom.¡±, V nodded, already preparing some MaxDocs to the rest of the Barkers.

    As Blaze, Nieme and Thiago pulled up with the truck, the air around them seemed to calm, though the tension from the battle still lingered. Refugees began to gather, their faces filled with a mix of fear and relief as Red¡¯s crew hurried them toward the vehicles.

    Vomi wiped some sweat from her brow, leaning against the side of the truck. ¡°We bought time, but not much. Let¡¯s get them moving before the Daggers regroup.¡±

    Raven nodded in agreement, her gaze scanning the area one last time for any remaining threats. ¡°Heitor, stay up high for a bit and keep an eye out for any stragglers. If they so much as twitch, drop ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Heitor replied, making his way back up onto his vantage point. He slung his sniper rifle into position, his eyes sharp as he scanned the horizon for any signs of movement.

    Thiago jumped out of the truck, heading straight to Raven. ¡°You sure we¡¯re good to roll? I don¡¯t like how fast they retreated. Feels like a setup.¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± Raven admitted, watching as V checked on his crew. ¡°But we don¡¯t have the luxury to wait around and find out. We need to get these people to safety.¡±

    Blaze, still in the driver¡¯s seat, revved the truck¡¯s engine impatiently. ¡°Less talking, more driving. Let¡¯s get these edgerunners on the road!¡±

    Red returned, handing a small data chip to Raven. ¡°The Barkers will cover the rest from here. They¡¯ll take care of the refugees. You and your crew did good work, but you might want to stay out of sight for a while. The Black Daggers aren¡¯t gonna forget this.¡±

    Raven took the chip, nodding. ¡°Thanks, Red. We¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    Vomi, who had been checking over the Chimera and securing her equipment, glanced up at Raven. ¡°What¡¯s the plan for us? We heading out with them?¡±

    Raven thought for a moment, looking over at the refugees as they were loaded into the trucks. ¡°We¡¯ll stick with them for now. Make sure they get to safety. After that, we lay low, regroup, and figure out what the Daggers are planning next.¡±

    Vomi gave a firm nod, though her mind was still racing with the tension of the fight.

    As the convoy began to roll out, the night sky above them was lit only by the faint glow of distant city lights. The roar of engines filled the air, but for now, there was a sense of calm¡ªa fragile peace that held, even if only for a moment.

    Raven looked over at Vomi, her voice low. ¡°Stay sharp. This isn¡¯t the last we¡¯ll hear from the Black Daggers.¡±

    Vomi sighed, tapping the Chimera strapped to her side, ¡°As long as we live in this city¡­¡±

    ¡°So, are you going to buy me a new guitar?¡±, Blaze said suddenly as he overheard the conversation.

    ¡°Ugh, FINE! I''ll buy your stupid guitar!¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­¡±, Blaze whispered, although he punched the air shamelessly.

    Another Tuesday in Cyberpunk, I guess.

 Chapter 16: A new song for the band!

    Thiago Keithwork

    The Refused¡¯s little side gig with Vomi and Raven had definitely stretched longer than planned. Thiago wasn''t sure why Raven was so hell-bent on getting these people out of the city, but their impromptu trip to the south with the Barkers had him low-key annoyed. Not that they were going that far, but still, this wasn''t part of the schedule. The Barkers were a small but skilled nomad clan¡ªmore muscle than they really needed.

    In the back of the truck, Nieme was being a gonk, messing around with his bass while Blaze casually riffed on a borrowed guitar from one of the nomads. Thiago kept his focus on the road, hands gripping the wheel, thinking about how long this trip was going to take.

    Up ahead, Vomi, Raven, and Heitor were in the Colby, trailing behind the convoy. Thiago couldn''t help but notice how Vomi had her eyes glued to someone¡ªa particular nomad driving a red Thornton Galena. V, if Thiago remembered right. What was up with that guy? A one-letter name? Seemed suspicious, but he didn¡¯t care enough to dig into it. What he did care about was giving the other boys something to talk about.

    "Hey," Thiago called, leaning back without taking his eyes off the road. "You guys notice how Vomi¡¯s, uh, hypnotized?"

    Blaze raised an eyebrow, passing the guitar back to the nomad next to him. "Hypnotized? By what?"

    Thiago chuckled. "Take a look."

    Nieme craned his neck to peer out the back window. In the Colby, Heitor was driving, Raven riding shotgun, and there was Vomi in the back seat, her eyes fixed on V¡¯s car.

    "Choom, no way," Nieme laughed, realizing what was happening. "Vomi¡¯s got a thing for tough guys, huh?"

    Blaze snorted, shaking his head. "Man, she¡¯s got good taste, I¡¯ll give her that."

    "You two are the biggest gonks I know," Thiago said, amused at their banter.

    The nomad who had loaned Blaze the guitar overheard and joined in, casually strumming a chord. "You guys talkin¡¯ ¡®bout V?"

    "That his name?" Nieme asked, curious now. "What¡¯s his deal?"

    The nomad smirked. "V¡¯s a mystery, man. Keeps to himself. He¡¯s our best tech and mechanic, can fix anything with wheels. But where he comes from? No one knows. Won¡¯t even tell us his real name."

    Thiago raised an eyebrow. "He just goes by ¡®V¡¯? Sounds like a legend outta a bad holo-film."

    "Pretty much," the nomad chuckled. "He says only people who really know him can call him by his real name. Whatever that is."

    Blaze leaned forward, grinning. "And Vomi¡¯s over here eyeing him like she¡¯s ready to crack the code, huh?"

    "Jealous, Thiago?" Nieme teased. "You worried she¡¯s got competition?"

    Thiago laughed it off, shaking his head. "If I was tryin¡¯ to hook up with her, I¡¯d have made my move already. Trust me."

    "Man, you¡¯re no fun," Blaze muttered, disappointed.

    "Anyway," the nomad yawned, stretching out on his seat. "Wake me up when we hit the next stop, yeah?"

    Thiago just smirked as he kept driving. He wasn¡¯t sure what V¡¯s deal was, but he figured Vomi would have her hands full trying to get that guy to open up. For now, though, they had bigger things to focus on¡ªlike getting these refugees to safety and making sure the Black Daggers didn¡¯t show up again.

    The crew arrived at the outskirts of Watsonville, parking along the side of the road. The ride had been uneventful¡ªno attacks, no breakdowns. Thiago was fine with that. After the craziness of the last few days, a peaceful drive was exactly what he needed. Raven might thrive on the chaos, but Thiago? He preferred the calm.

    The Barkers said their goodbyes, the refugees handed over their payment, and The Refused split the profits with the nomads. Business was wrapped, and now it was just them, hanging out with a small stack of eddies in hand.

    ¡°Alright, what now?¡± Nieme asked, his usual boredom showing.

    Blaze didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what¡¯s next. We buy my fucking guitar,¡± he said, almost punching the air for emphasis. ¡°I want one with flames.¡±

    The little sparks from Blaze¡¯s chrome fists were enough of a hint that he wasn¡¯t joking around. He wanted that guitar now.

    ¡°Alright, to the shop we go,¡± Raven said, sounding like she was used to Blaze¡¯s theatrics.

    Thiago tossed a bag of snacks to the group, half-laughing. ¡°Wait, Watsonville even got good stores? This place looks... basic.¡±

    Heitor shrugged, already munching on some red ant chips. ¡°Only one way to find out.¡±

    Vomi, though, seemed distracted. Vanguard perched on her shoulder as she pet him absently, clearly lost in thought.

    Nieme noticed and broke the silence. ¡°Hey, Vomi. Nice shirt. Red suits you.¡±

    Vomi blinked, snapping out of her daydream. ¡°Huh? Oh¡ªthanks. Y-you think so?¡±

    Blaze grinned. ¡°Very Arasaka, though. You sure you¡¯re not aiming for that corpo life? You already got the black-and-red eyes, all that¡¯s missing is the Arasaka logo on your chest.¡±

    ¡°As if,¡± Vomi scoffed, though she couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll buy you your damn guitar. You¡¯ve been pestering me ever since I broke the last one.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m never letting you touch another one of mine,¡± Blaze huffed.

    ¡°Alright, chill out,¡± Thiago said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. ¡°I wanna see if they¡¯ve got any new amps. That could really boost our next album.¡±

    Raven shot Vomi a look. ¡°Might as well get yourself an instrument too, Vomi. You know we could use a backup guitarist. Some of our tracks feel empty.¡±

    Vomi sighed, glaring at Raven. ¡°Now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, now,¡± Raven said, her usual goth mood lightened by her excitement. ¡°Come on, Vomi, you know we need it.¡±

    Begrudgingly, Vomi nodded, giving in. Vanguard leaped from her shoulder onto the dashboard of the Colby, watching the group with those sharp little eyes.

    Heitor gave the cat a gentle pat. ¡°Guess that¡¯s as good a sign as any. Let¡¯s roll.¡±

    The crew piled out of the vehicles, stretching their legs after the long drive. Watsonville wasn¡¯t much to look at¡ªmostly a mix of old concrete buildings and rundown shops¡ªbut there was a certain charm to it. Small-time vendors hawked street food, and the occasional mod shop was squeezed between pawn shops and dive bars. The hum of old tech and the smell of cheap oil filled the air.

    Blaze was the first to break away, heading toward a dusty-looking guitar shop with a neon sign barely flickering to life. ¡°This is the place!¡± he declared, excitement clear in his voice.

    Nieme followed, pulling his bass from the truck and slinging it over his shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s see if they got anything that makes my baby here sound even better.¡±

    Heitor and Raven stayed behind with Vomi, glancing around. ¡°So, what¡¯s it gonna be, Vomi?¡± Heitor asked with a smirk. ¡°You finally getting yourself an axe or what?¡±

    Vomi hesitated, her hand brushing Vanguard¡¯s fur as the little cat stretched out lazily. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯ve always been more tech than music.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why you need one,¡± Raven said, almost encouraging for once. ¡°You¡¯ve got the skill, Vomi. You just need the gear.¡±

    Vomi sighed, feeling the weight of the decision more than she wanted to admit. ¡°Fine, fine. Let¡¯s check it out. But don¡¯t expect any miracles from me on stage.¡±

    That of course, was a total lie. She knew a song. It was her favorite one.

    The three of them followed Blaze and Nieme into the shop. Inside, the smell of wood and strings hit them immediately, along with the sight of guitars hanging from every wall¡ªsome sleek and chrome-plated, others more classic with worn-out finishes. Blaze was already haggling with the shop owner over a bright red guitar with flames painted on the body.

    ¡°This one¡¯s it,¡± Blaze said, strumming a few notes and grinning. ¡°Perfect.¡±

    Nieme wandered off to the amps, testing out the sound with his bass, while Thiago examined the gear with an almost professional eye.

    Vomi, though, found herself drawn to a simple black guitar, nothing fancy but with a solid build. It looked unassuming, but when she ran her fingers over the strings, it felt... right. Like it had been waiting for her.

    ¡°You eyeing that one?¡± Raven asked, leaning against the counter with a knowing smile.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Vomi admitted. ¡°It¡¯s simple.¡±

    Raven shrugged. ¡°Sometimes simple¡¯s best. It¡¯s got that classic look, and you don¡¯t need all the fancy stuff. You¡¯re the one that makes it work.¡±

    Vomi picked it up, strumming a few chords awkwardly. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it wasn¡¯t bad either. She could already feel the potential in it.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do it,¡± she finally said, slinging the guitar over her shoulder. ¡°Guess I¡¯m a guitarist now.¡±

    Blaze cheered from across the room, his new guitar in hand. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about! Now we¡¯re gonna blow the roof off the next gig!¡±

    ¡°I doubt I will be as amazing as you claim I am.¡±

    ¡°Chill. Even Johnny Silverhand started as a nobody.¡±, Nieme pointed out, picking up an amp that he found worthy of his bass, ¡°I''ll take this one.

    ¡°There are some mics that are good, but honestly an editing table would be better.¡±, Thiago commented as he checked some programs for sale.

    ¡°I need new drumsticks.¡±, Heitor waved his own sticks around, ¡°Mine are close to the flatline.¡±

    ¡°Alright, fine!¡±, Vomi snapped, ¡°I''ll pay for it!¡±

    Everyone suddenly turned in a circle, muttering the words ¡°We did it!¡± under their breath.

    Vanguard pulsed a comment on her mind, ¡°They got you.¡±

    ¡°Grrrr¡­¡±, Vomi growled, ¡°I hate you guys.¡±

    ¡°That''s our charm!¡±, Raven said proudly, puffing her chest forward.

    With their new gear in tow, The Refused made their way back outside. The sun was rising, casting a golden glow over the rundown streets of Watsonville.

    Raven glanced up at the sky, her mood shifting as it always did when the day started. ¡°We should get moving. We¡¯ve got a lot of work ahead, and I don¡¯t trust that the Black Daggers are completely gone.¡±

    Thiago nodded in agreement. ¡°Let¡¯s head back to San Fran, regroup, and work on the album. But¡­ if those Daggers show their faces again, we¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I need some sleep and coffee.¡±, Vomi agreed as she entered her Colby.

    ¡°You just drink that.¡±, Heitor deadpanned.

    ¡°All I really need when I ain''t in a bar.¡±

    She started the car, driving back to her apartment, The Refused following behind.

    <hr>

    In her apartment, Vomi sighed, putting her guitar, Chimera and Cerberus on the wall. The day was long as hell, and despite not needing to sleep, she really liked the idea, but she couldn''t do it with all the sand and dirt the desert threw at her, so she undressed, put the clothes in the washer and went for a bath. It always felt awkward to look at Dr. Vomi''s body, to be in command of a body that wasn''t yours, wasn''t even your gender. As a born male, it always felt vulgar to look at some parts, even if they were glimpses of it. The fact that she needed to wash it was also uncomfortable.

    There was a mirror in the bathroom, those that only showed the reflection when the person got closer to it, the matte material becoming reflective gradually. It showed the body of Dr. Vomi, the curves and overall features, the muscles that didn''t get in the way of her almond shape¡ª

    ¡°Nope!¡±, Vomi immediately stopped staring at the mirror.

    Finishing the bath and dressing as quickly as possible.

    Vomi stepped out of the shower, hastily toweling herself off and trying to shake the awkwardness that always came when she was alone with her thoughts¡ªand Dr. Vomi¡¯s body. The contrast between the person she used to be and who she was now never quite sat right. She was Vomi in name and action, sure, but deep down, there was always that discomfort¡ªa feeling like she was wearing a skin that wasn¡¯t fully hers. Reincarnation is a bitch sometimes.

    "Get over it," she muttered to herself as she dried her hair. She glanced at the guitar she had just bought, now propped against the wall next to her Chimera and Cerberus. ¡°At least that¡¯s something normal.¡±

    Vanguard, sitting on the window ledge, flicked its tail, sending her a mental nudge. "You¡¯re overthinking again."

    "Yeah, I know," Vomi sighed. She pulled on a loose tank top and shorts, trying to put the day behind her. It was late¡ªor rather, early¡ªand her mind was racing, even though her body was exhausted.

    She slumped onto the bed, letting her thoughts drift to the band. Despite her personal hang-ups, things were good. The Refused was doing well, their latest gig went off without a hitch (for the most part), and the new gear would only improve their sound. Plus, she couldn¡¯t deny that Blaze, Nieme, and the others were growing on her. They weren¡¯t just coworkers¡ªthey were starting to feel like a family, even if they annoyed the hell out of her sometimes.

    But the nagging thought of the Black Daggers still lurked at the back of her mind. The attack earlier wasn¡¯t random; they were going to cross paths again. She knew it. And next time, they might not be so lucky.

    Vanguard padded over, hopping onto the bed and curling up next to her. Its thoughts pulsed softly in her mind, calm and reassuring. ¡°We¡¯ll be ready next time.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°I hope so.¡± Vomi lay back, staring at the ceiling. ¡°It feels like things are about to get worse before they get better.¡±

    Vang the cat, squished himself between her boobs, much to her annoyance, but that didn''t stop her from petting his head, ¡°How was it?¡±

    ¡°How was what?¡±, She asked, checking if her glasses are still on the bedside table.

    ¡°Meeting V. Not everyday you meet the protagonist of a video game.¡±, He said, his body just spreading on top of her.

    Vomi chuckled, a hint of sarcasm slipping into her voice. "Protagonist of a video game, huh? I didn''t get that vibe." She gently nudged Vanguard off her chest, but the cat simply repositioned himself on her stomach, completely unbothered.

    Vanguard¡¯s tail flicked lazily, and his voice echoed again in her head. "You know what I mean. He¡¯s got that mysterious loner thing going on. Feels like something straight out of a story. And he kinda does if this is Cyberpunk 2077.¡±

    "Yeah, well, stories like that usually come with a lot of baggage." Vomi sighed, thinking back to the brief interaction with V. His cold, detached demeanor wasn¡¯t exactly easy to read, nor outright likeable. There was something off about him, though she couldn''t quite place it. And honestly, she had enough on her plate without trying to crack that code.

    "You''re not wrong," Vanguard purred, settling into a more comfortable position. "But you¡¯re curious."

    ¡°Curious enough to keep an eye on him, but not enough to dig too deep,¡± Vomi muttered. ¡°He¡¯s a good mechanic, that¡¯s something I guess. Plus, Raven seems to trust him. Even though they met today. Yesterday¡­ whatever.¡±

    ¡°Raven¡¯s trust can be... selective,¡± Vanguard added with a mental smirk. ¡°Just don¡¯t get too wrapped up. You¡¯ve got your own problems, remember?¡±

    "Yeah, I haven''t forgotten," Vomi replied, her tone dropping. Her thoughts drifted back to the Black Daggers and the chaos of the day. That ambush wasn''t just some random hit¡ªtheir precision, the timing, it all felt too planned. It made her skin crawl thinking about who might be pulling the strings behind the scenes.

    She reached for her glasses on the bedside table, sliding them on and glancing at her laptop. No new messages. Good. The last thing she needed was another emergency to deal with at this hour.

    Vanguard nuzzled her hand, sensing her shift in mood. "Get some rest, Vomi. We''ll handle whatever comes next."

    "Easy for you to say, you don''t sleep," she teased, but there was a hint of warmth in her voice. She appreciated Vanguard''s constant presence, even when he was being a bit too cheeky for her liking.

    Letting out a deep breath, Vomi closed her eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to her. "Yeah, tomorrow... or later today... we¡¯ll deal with it all. One problem at a time."

    Vanguard gave a soft purr of agreement as Vomi¡¯s thoughts slowly faded into sleep.

    <hr>

    The next day, or rather, later that same day, Vomi woke up hanging from the ceiling of her apartment. She glanced down, or rather, upwards, and immediately frowned as she saw the primal symbiote exploring the roof of the apartment, but getting distracted with the fans of the AC unit. The red tendrils came out of her bed at night and seemingly decided that it was a good time to mess around. She glanced over, the gun parts, mods, tech and components all over the place, the food she packed scattered around and the laptop opened on a BD website homepage. Because of course an alien thing needed porn to function.

    At least the coffee machine was still where she left it.

    ¡°Can you not?¡±, Vomi grumbled at the symbiote.

    Who flickered his tendrils, noticing the owner''s consciousness.

    ¡°He is bored.¡±, Vanguard commented, still in the same position on the bed as yesterday. Or earlier today.

    ¡°I can see that.¡±, She said, using Vanguard''s powers to put herself on the ground, black tendrils helping her not fall on her ass, ¡°Didn''t we kill people yesterday?¡±

    ¡°Doesn''t seem like it''s enough.¡±, He shook his head, the red tendrils slowly retreating, complying, but not pleased.

    ¡°I have to train my music skills, I can''t kill people all day.¡±, Vomi muttered, anger filling her voice, ¡°You better behave yourself.¡±

    The red symbiote pulsed something negative, but complied, again, not happy, but it tolerated the situation for now.

    Vomi went to the wardrobe and decided to dress something casual. Wristbands, a simple T-Shirt with the Samurai logo, jeans and a pair of boots. Early stages of Rockergirl, for all she cared.

    ¡°What should I play?¡±, She said after starting to clean the mess the prima symbiote did in her apartment.

    ¡°You know how to play a song?¡±, Vanguard asked as he watched Vomi fix the mess from the bed.

    ¡°I barely can. One song too.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°Just some flamenco stuff. Nothing too good or hard.¡±, She said, putting the components back in their boxes, ¡°There you go. Way better.¡±

    Vomi finished tidying up the last of the scattered parts and leaned back, surveying the room with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. The symbiote had finally settled down, though she could still feel its agitation pulsing faintly in the back of her mind.

    She picked up her new guitar, running her fingers along the strings as she tuned it. The Samurai logo on her shirt felt oddly appropriate, given the vibe.

    ¡°Flamenco, huh?¡± she muttered, sitting down on the edge of her bed. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll see how rusty I am.¡±

    Vanguard watched from his perch, lazily flicking his tail. ¡°A flamenco-playing Rockergirl? Could be a thing.¡±

    Vomi smirked, her fingers strumming a slow, deliberate melody. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was nerves or her symbiote¡¯s leftover energy, but the strings vibrated a little sharper than she intended. She winced at a sour note. ¡°Yeah, well, let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves.¡±

    As the melody took shape, Vomi started to relax. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but the familiar rhythm grounded her. Her mind, which had been a chaotic mess since waking up, started to calm. The music filled the apartment, bouncing off the walls and blending with the steady hum of the city outside.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± Vanguard mused, his voice soft in her mind. ¡°It suits you.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. ¡°Suits me? Thought you¡¯d say I should stick to tech.¡±

    ¡°Who says you can¡¯t do both?¡±

    She chuckled, continuing the tune. ¡°You¡¯re sounding suspiciously supportive today.¡±

    ¡°Just making sure you don¡¯t burn out. You¡¯ve got enough on your plate with the Black Daggers sniffing around.¡±

    The mention of the Black Daggers brought her back to reality. Vomi¡¯s hands slowed on the guitar. ¡°There¡¯s the investigation Sasha is doing too. She hasn''t sent a text since.¡±

    ¡°Don''t worry. If anything, you can call M-Tech to help, even if they will do it in the expectation of some sort of profit.¡±

    Vomi let out a slow breath, setting the guitar down beside her. ¡°I¡¯m getting tired of this cycle, you know? The constant fighting, the never-ending chaos. Sometimes I wonder if we¡¯ll ever catch a break.¡±

    Vanguard stretched, his sleek form practically melting into the bed. ¡°That¡¯s the world we live in. Breaks don¡¯t come easy.¡±

    ¡°Guess not.¡± Vomi stood up, rubbing the back of her neck. Her fingers brushed against the wristbands she wore¡ªa small comfort in the storm that was her life. ¡°Still, I can¡¯t keep thinking about it, but I also can''t just forget it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Vanguard agreed. ¡°What¡¯s on the table for today though?¡±

    Vomi stared out the window, the city sprawling out beneath her like a neon-lit jungle. Despite the uncertainty gnawing at her, there was a flicker of determination growing in her chest. She wasn¡¯t the type to back down, and if the Black Daggers or anyone else came for them again, they¡¯d be met with more than just a few tunes.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I guess I''ll start something.¡±

    With that, she picked up her guitar again, strumming a few more chords.

    ¡°Do you ever get a little bit tired of life? Like you aren''t really happy but you don''t wanna die.¡±

    She sang the lyrics of Numb Little Bug, impressively fitting for the situation right now.

    Vomi¡¯s voice echoed softly through the apartment, the melancholic tune of Numb Little Bug filling the space as she strummed her guitar. The words hit close to home, like they were written for moments like these¡ªcaught between exhaustion and determination, with the weight of the world pressing down but no option but to keep moving.

    Vanguard¡¯s tail flicked lazily as he listened, a quiet presence in her otherwise chaotic life. "That song suits you more than you''d think," he commented after a while.

    Vomi smirked, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, funny how that works, huh?" She strummed a few more chords, letting the melody drift. "Sometimes I wonder if I¡¯ll ever get to just¡­ exist. No wars, no running, no corps breathing down my neck."

    "Maybe someday," Vanguard mused, though even he didn¡¯t sound entirely convinced. "But I wouldn¡¯t hold your breath."

    "Wasn¡¯t planning to." Vomi sighed, setting the guitar back on the stand and stretching. The tension in her shoulders hadn¡¯t gone away, but playing had helped ease some of the weight.

    Her mind wandered back to Sasha and the investigation. It had been too long without contact. That wasn''t like Sasha¡ªespecially given the gravity of the situation. And if M-Tech was involved, there was no telling how deep things could get. They weren''t known for their subtlety.

    "Maybe I should check in with Sasha," Vomi said aloud, though she knew it wasn¡¯t that simple. If Sasha had gone dark, there was a reason for it. Still, waiting around for something to happen wasn¡¯t her style.

    Vanguard¡¯s eyes gleamed with curiosity. "And what if something¡¯s already gone sideways? You sure you¡¯re ready to dive headfirst into that mess?"

    "I was never ready, but when am I ever?" Vomi shot back, grabbing her laptop and glancing at the screen. No new notifications, no messages. She contemplated calling Sasha directly, but something held her back.

    Instead, she pulled up the message thread, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

    ¡°You still alive out there?¡±

    Simple, to the point. She hit send and tossed the phone onto the bed, turning back to her guitar to distract herself from the silence.

    "One problem at a time, right?" she muttered to herself, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

    Vanguard watched her, ever the silent observer. "You¡¯re handling it better than most would," he finally said, though there was a slight edge to his voice. "But remember, not everything is your responsibility to fix."

    "Feels like it is sometimes," Vomi replied without looking up. "If not me, then who?"

    Vanguard didn¡¯t answer, but his tail flicked again, the weight of his unspoken words lingering in the air.

    <hr>

    After clocking out of M-Tech, Vomi drove the Colby towards the rehearsal warehouse. Apparently there was a gig set for the weekend and everyone wanted to be sure they were ready for it, especially when Raven was still recovering from the injuries of the Black Daggers attack. The place where the gig was going to be has more prestige, meaning more safety, meaning that they don''t need to worry about the gang going up and shooting them mid encore. However, there was something that caught Vomi''s interest as she entered the warehouse.

    Only Thiago and Heitor were there.

    ¡°Hey.¡±, Vomi raised a hand, guitar on the other.

    ¡°Just you arrived?¡±, Heitor asked as he stopped his swing at the drums.

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    ¡°Damm. Everyone is late then.¡±, Thiago commented, his annoyance showing.

    Vomi slung her guitar over her shoulder as she stepped further into the warehouse, the echo of her boots bouncing off the concrete walls. It was always like this before a gig¡ªanticipation mixed with a simmering frustration when things didn¡¯t line up just right. She had hoped today would be smoother.

    "Looks like it," she muttered, setting her guitar case down. "I figured Blaze would at least be here early, considering how hyped he was about that new guitar."

    "Yeah, well, Blaze isn¡¯t exactly known for punctuality," Thiago replied, running a hand through his hair. He was fiddling with an amp, his focus torn between his annoyance and getting things ready. "But Raven¡¯s usually the one cracking the whip to keep everyone in line. I guess with her still recovering, it¡¯s a little...looser."

    Vomi nodded, glancing around. The warehouse felt emptier without the rest of the band bustling about, and even though the quiet was a change of pace, it left her uneasy. "I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll show up soon."

    Heitor gave a half-hearted shrug, tapping his drumsticks on the edge of his seat. "They better. I¡¯m not playing at some fancy gig half-assed."

    "None of us are," Vomi said, trying to shake off the nagging feeling that something was off. She pulled out her guitar, strumming a few random chords to settle herself. "Still, it¡¯s weird not having Raven here already. She¡¯s the one who¡¯s always on top of things."

    "She did take a pretty bad hit from those Daggers," Thiago reminded her. "Maybe she needs more time than she¡¯s letting on."

    Vomi frowned but didn¡¯t argue. Raven wasn¡¯t one to complain, even when things were bad. But knowing her, she¡¯d be here¡ªinjuries or not¡ªif she could. "I¡¯ll check in on her after we rehearse, just to be sure."

    Heitor kicked his drums lightly, his rhythm slow and methodical, a stark contrast to his usual intensity. "Yeah, good idea. And while you¡¯re at it, maybe give Blaze a wake-up call too. I swear that guy runs in his own time zone."

    "I¡¯ll hit him up in a second," Vomi said, glancing at her agent. There was still no response from Sasha, and it gnawed at her. But she couldn¡¯t afford to focus on that now. Not with everything else piling up.

    Thiago tested his voice for a while, nodding toward Vomi. "Let¡¯s at least run through something while we wait. No point wasting time."

    ¡°Actually, there was something I wanted to show you guys.¡±, Vomi said as her hands abruptly stopped the riff of her guitar, ¡°I was writing¡­ yeah, writing a song these past few days, but I need your input on these.¡±

    ¡°You did?¡±, Thiago asked in minor disbelief, ¡°Weren''t you the newbie at music?¡±

    ¡°At playing it? Yes. But I was always good with tech.¡±, She crossed her arms in a pout.

    ¡°Sure, hehe. What you got?¡±

    ¡°I call it Devil Trigger. And it fits The Refused perfectly. It almost feels like a Samurai song.¡±, Vomi said with a smile, so devilish that even Heitor seemed excited about it.

    And Heitor never shows excitement.

    ¡°Alright, play the guitar. Heitor, improvise the drums. Let''s see how this one will go.¡±

    Vomi thought to herself that she needed to thank Nero. If one thing, his theme was awesome. Devil May Cry 5 was fucking awesome.

    And that was one of the few songs she actually put an amazing amount of practice to play in her past life.

    Vomi positioned her fingers on the guitar, the tension building in the room. She glanced at Heitor, who was already leaning forward, sticks ready, waiting for her cue. Thiago, despite his usual laid-back demeanor, seemed intrigued. This wasn¡¯t something she did often¡ªpresenting a song of her own. The moment felt charged.

    "Alright," Vomi said, fingers resting lightly on the strings. "Here we go."

    The opening riff was sharp, aggressive, and electric¡ªfitting for the title Devil Trigger. It echoed through the warehouse, filling the space with a raw energy that demanded attention. Heitor picked up the rhythm instinctively, his drums pounding in sync with her guitar. His usual laid-back vibe was replaced with a fierce intensity, every hit of the drums perfectly complementing the rising tension of the track.

    Vomi¡¯s voice, when she began to sing, was low and deliberate, almost a growl:

    "The darkness of night falls around my soul, And the hunter within loses control..."

    Thiago¡¯s eyes widened as he picked up his guitar, falling into the groove. Even if it wasn''t an instrument he played often, Thiago couldn''t just miss this. He quickly caught onto the melody, adding layers to the sound, while Vomi continued with the lyrics:

    "Gotta let it out, gotta let it out, Move fast, baby, don¡¯t be slow! Step aside, reload, time to go..."

    As the intensity of the song built, Vomi felt the rhythm pulse through her. Her fingers moved faster, striking the guitar with a fierceness she hadn¡¯t felt in a long time. This song wasn¡¯t just music¡ªit was an outlet. A release for all the pent-up frustration, the weight of responsibilities, and the uncertainty hanging over them. It was cathartic.

    When the chorus hit, it was like a tidal wave crashing:

    ¡°All of these thoughts runnin'' through my head! Arm on fire, veins burnin'' red! Frustration is gettin'' bigger!¡±

    Vomi jumped to stand on the couch, the immediate energy she poured on the guitar was so infectious that Heitor was drumming even harder than before.

    Then the main part hits:

    ¡°Bang! Bang! BANG! Pull my Devil Trigger!¡±

    The warehouse seemed to come alive as Vomi''s voice echoed off the walls, her energy infectious. Heitor¡¯s drums hit harder, each beat reverberating through the floor as he matched her intensity. Thiago, despite playing an unfamiliar instrument, kept pace, his strumming adding a raw edge to the song that made it feel even more primal.

    Vomi¡¯s fingers flew across the guitar strings, her voice rising with the chorus as if it were her battle cry:

    ¡°Bang! Bang! Bang! Pull my Devil Trigger!¡±

    The sheer force of her delivery, combined with the music, sent a surge through the room. She was lost in it now, caught in the whirlwind of sound and emotion. The song wasn¡¯t just lyrics¡ªit was her declaration, a fight against the weight of her past and the uncertainty of the future.

    The riff escalated, and the tension rose higher:

    "Embrace the darkness that''s within me, No hiding in the shadows anymore..."

    Thiago glanced over at Vomi, eyes alight with a mixture of surprise and admiration. This was something new¡ªsomething powerful¡ªand it was clear Vomi was channeling more than just musical talent. She was tapping into something deeper, something fierce. Even Heitor, known for his quiet demeanor, was fully invested, his face locked in focus as his drumsticks danced across the kit.

    The bridge hit, and Vomi jumped down from the couch, her boots hitting the floor with a thud, but she didn¡¯t miss a beat.

    The final chorus crashed down like a hammer, every instrument perfectly synced, every voice raised. This was The Refused at their rawest, their most explosive. The track climaxed with Vomi¡¯s voice and guitar leading the charge, followed by a massive drum finale from Heitor.

    As the last note hung in the air, there was a brief silence¡ªheavy, electric. Then, all at once, the tension broke.

    Thiago was the first to speak, a wide grin breaking across his face. "Damn, Vomi... That was intense. I think we just found our opener for the next gig."

    Heitor wiped the sweat from his brow, nodding in agreement. "I haven¡¯t felt something like that in a long time."

    Vomi, panting from the exertion, set her guitar down, feeling a mix of exhaustion and triumph. "Told you. Devil Trigger fits us perfectly."

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±, Raven suddenly asked, her voice cracking under the raw energy that still filled the room. Blaze and Nieme at her side.

    Vomi stared at them.

    Heitor stared at them.

    Thiago stared at them.

    Vanguard just meowed, as usual.

    ¡°How long were you there?!¡±, Vomi yelled, much to everyone''s amusement.

    ¡°Blaze?¡±, Raven said.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Write those lyrics down. Right now.¡±

    ¡°Don''t need to tell me twice. Fuck, this is gonna be epic,¡± Blaze said, already opening his agent, eyes flying across the screen as he hurried to capture the moment.

    Vomi shook her head, a mix of annoyance and pride. ¡°You guys could have come in sooner, you know. We were working on something here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we wanted to hear the magic in person,¡± Nieme added, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe. ¡°And clearly, it worked out for you.¡±

    Raven stepped forward, her expression shifting from surprise to admiration. ¡°You really nailed it, Vomi. That was on another level. I can see the crowd going wild for this.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Vomi replied, a small smile creeping onto her face. ¡°It felt good to let it all out.¡±

    ¡°Letting it out is what this band is all about,¡± Heitor chimed in, his usual calm demeanor now energized. ¡°And if this song becomes our anthem, we¡¯re going to take it to the next level.¡±

    Vanguard curled up on the couch, looking pleased with the whole scene.

    ¡°Just remember to enjoy the ride,¡± Raven said, a knowing smile on her face. ¡°You¡¯re part of this family now, whether you like it or not.¡±

    Vomi looked around at her bandmates¡ªBlaze still typing furiously, Heitor grinning like he just discovered a new favorite song, and Thiago nodding enthusiastically. It was true; they were more than just a band. They were a support system, each of them ready to dive into the chaos together.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Vomi said, taking a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s get this song polished up and ready for the gig. We¡¯ve got a show to prepare for.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Let¡¯s do it!¡± Blaze cheered, bouncing on his heels, ¡°You need to tell me how to play this shit.¡±

    With renewed energy, the group set to work, the earlier tension replaced by excitement. They were on the cusp of something special, and as Vomi picked up her guitar again, she felt a spark of hope ignite within her. Whatever challenges lay ahead¡ªBlack Daggers or otherwise¡ªthey would face them together, fueled by their music and the bond they were forging.

    And as they dove back into their rehearsal, Vomi couldn¡¯t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she didn''t need to overthink things.

    ¡°Heh, overthinking is overrated.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

 Chapter 17: The Big One

    The song had gone through some serious tweaks to make it work acoustically, since originally it had a lot of electronic elements. But thanks to the killer lyrics, the vocals, and a bunch of stuff the band¡ªmostly Thiago¡ªfigured out, they nailed it. Four original songs now, each with input from the members, even though Devil Trigger technically already existed. Heitor and Thiago took credit for co-writing since they helped smooth out the edges, and Heitor''s drumming took the whole thing to another level.

    At least now, everyone had a song they could claim as their own. Sort of.

    After some more practice, with Blaze taking over as lead guitar for a bit, the group kicked back, drinking and zoning out to the awful N54 News Channel. The usual Night City and LA stuff, plus a bunch of updates on other states in the N.U.S.A. Nothing they really cared about. But as the hours passed, Raven started to notice something was off with Vomi. She was sweating here and there, rubbing her forehead, clearly fighting off what looked like a migraine or something.

    Vomi¡¯s agent buzzed, and she finally saw the message she¡¯d been waiting for:

    Sasha: Caught some fish! Come and see me >w<

    ¡°Did she seriously just text me an emoji?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Nieme asked, barely glancing away from the TV.

    ¡°An acquaintance. And yeah... it¡¯s full of text emojis,¡± Vomi said, trying to wrap her head around why anyone would do that.

    ¡°Are they a Netrunner?¡± Blaze asked, taking a swig of his beer.

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±

    He shrugged, wiping his mouth with a chrome hand. ¡°Some of ¡®em are just... peculiar.¡±

    Vomi almost snorted. Peculiar was an understatement, considering Vomi herself wasn¡¯t just a Netrunner but something more... symbiotic.

    ¡°Is it important?¡± Thiago asked from his spot, where he was still tweaking tracks but not with his usual intensity. ¡°We could run through some more songs. Our setlist isn¡¯t exactly long.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting on this for a while,¡± Vomi said, a little apologetic. ¡°I can¡¯t skip it. But we¡¯ll meet up soon, if it doesn¡¯t take too long.¡±

    Raven stood, stretching. ¡°I¡¯ll head out too. Got some things to take care of.¡±

    ¡°Fucking Black Daggers,¡± Heitor muttered, but everyone heard him.

    The mood shifted. Nobody had forgotten the attack, especially with Raven still recovering from her injuries. The tech the Daggers tried to steal, the reckless violence, the shards they were after¡ªit all felt too organized, like some corp was pulling the strings. But none of them were about to dive headfirst into that mess. They weren¡¯t suicidal.

    ¡°You need a ride?¡± Vomi asked Raven, who was lounging on the couch next to her.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯d be great.¡±

    Thiago yawned. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m done for the day. I¡¯ll finish the edits later. Got other biz to handle.¡±

    With that, everyone scattered. Vomi headed out to her Colby, Vanguard jumping onto Raven''s shoulder, as usual. The singer didn¡¯t even flinch, used to the cat¡¯s antics by now.

    Once they were on the road, Vomi glanced over. ¡°Where do you live?¡±

    Raven scratched Vanguard¡¯s head as he curled up in her lap, more like a puddle of fur than a cat. ¡°Near the museum, just past downtown.¡±

    Vomi nodded, the city¡¯s cloudy sky casting a gray light over the streets. ¡°Are you alright? Your injuries healing up okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Raven said, not missing a beat. ¡°Didn¡¯t even need a ripperdoc. Still... doesn¡¯t make me any less pissed.¡± She glanced down, absentmindedly rubbing the bandages on her arm.

    Vomi shot her a quick look. ¡°Why¡¯d you risk so much for those people? The refugees?¡±

    ¡°They helped me when I needed it,¡± Raven answered simply, her gaze finally meeting Vomi¡¯s. ¡°So I returned the favor.¡±

    Vomi hesitated, then asked the question she¡¯d been holding back. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call the Green Rhythm? Did you leave on bad terms?¡±

    Raven tensed, her face hardening. But Vomi waited, driving slow on purpose, giving her space to open up if she wanted. They hadn¡¯t known each other long¡ªtwo, maybe three weeks¡ªbut Vomi couldn¡¯t help but worry. Raven was tough, but there was something fragile under all that strength. Maybe it was the stubbornness both she and her sister Cinthia shared, or the fact that Raven never mentioned why she left her old band.

    Cinthia was different¡ªloud, vibrant, brutally honest. But even she had faith that Raven would come back to Green Rhythm one day. It was clear she cared, but Raven? She wasn¡¯t one to just let things slide.

    The silence in the car grew, heavy, but Vomi wasn¡¯t about to let the question go unanswered. Finally, Raven exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

    Raven stared out the window for a long moment, watching the city lights blur past. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just one thing,¡± she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. ¡°Green Rhythm, they... changed. Or maybe I did. Either way, the vibe wasn¡¯t right anymore. Everything felt forced, fake.¡±

    Vomi kept her eyes on the road, but she could hear the tension in Raven¡¯s voice. She had a feeling there was more to the story, something deeper that Raven wasn¡¯t saying. ¡°Did something happen? Or was it just... time to go?¡±

    Raven shifted in her seat, crossing her arms. ¡°They started getting corporate sponsorships. Big ones. The kind that come with strings. At first, it was small things, like what we could say during interviews or how we dressed. But then it got worse. They wanted us to play at gigs where they¡¯d control everything, the sound, the setlist, even the crowd. It wasn¡¯t about the music anymore. It was about selling an image.¡±

    Vomi nodded, understanding more than she expected to. She had seen how corps operated, always trying to mold people into something they could market, something profitable. ¡°So you delta?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Raven said, her voice flat. ¡°I told them I wouldn¡¯t sell out, and they told me I was being difficult. That I was ruining their chances. So I walked.¡±

    ¡°Cinthia didn¡¯t go with you?¡± Vomi asked, glancing at her.

    Raven shook her head, her jaw tight. ¡°No. She wanted to, but I told her to stay. She¡¯s too bright for this world, you know? Too good. Green Rhythm¡¯s still got something to offer her. I wasn¡¯t going to take that away just because I couldn¡¯t deal with the bullshit.¡±

    Vomi felt a pang of respect for Raven, but also sadness. It was clear that leaving hadn¡¯t been easy, especially leaving her sister behind. ¡°You think she¡¯ll ever leave?¡±

    Raven¡¯s eyes softened slightly. ¡°Maybe. One day. But I don¡¯t want her to have to. Not like I did.¡±

    They drove in silence for a bit after that, the tension easing but still present. Vomi could feel the weight of what Raven was saying. It wasn¡¯t just about music or gigs; it was about identity, about not letting the world shape you into something you didn¡¯t want to be. Something Vomi could relate to more than she cared to admit.

    They reached Raven¡¯s place, the museum just a block away. Vomi slowed the car to a stop. ¡°Here we are.¡±

    Raven paused before opening the door. "Thanks for the ride... and for listening."

    Vomi grinned. "Anytime. We all got our own battles, right?"

    With a small nod, Raven got out of the car, Vanguard hopping down onto the pavement. Vomi watched her walk toward the building, shoulders hunched, before she disappeared inside.

    As Vomi pulled away, her agent pinged again:

    Sasha: Seriously! Get over here! This is huge!

    Vomi sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Alright, alright, I''m coming," she muttered, changing direction towards Sasha''s place. Whatever Sasha had found, Vomi knew it was gonna be a wild ride.

    With corpos involved? It always was.

    <hr>

    Vomi had always imagined a Netrunner¡¯s hideout to be straight out of the movies¡ªwalls of blinking monitors, tangled wires everywhere, dark as a cave with only screens lighting the place, energy drink cans scattered like confetti, and a general air of "I haven''t left this chair in days." But when she got to Sasha''s apartment¡ªyes, apartment¡ªshe was completely caught off guard. It was clean, bright, spacious, and absolutely overflowing with cat plushies and anime merch. Sure, there was the cooling suit for netrunning, but other than that, it looked more like a weeb¡¯s dream than a hacker¡¯s den.

    As soon as Vomi stepped in, she heard splashing from the bathroom. Sasha must¡¯ve been using the Icebath to dive into Cyberspace. The whole vibe was... weird, but oddly comforting.

    A few minutes later, Sasha emerged from the bathroom with a towel twisted around her wet hair and literally nothing else on. She casually dried herself off while Vomi, doing her best not to stare, immediately turned her back to avoid making things even weirder. Vomi was well aware that in this world, being a woman in these kinds of situations was different¡ªpeople didn¡¯t really care about nudity, especially Netrunners after a session in the Icebath. But still, the sudden casualness threw her off.

    Of course, Sasha noticed Vomi¡¯s awkwardness and couldn¡¯t help but stir the pot.

    ¡°Oh hey, Corpo Kitty!¡± Sasha chirped, suddenly wrapping Vomi in a hug from behind. The move earned a startled yelp from Vomi.

    "W-What are you doing?!" Vomi stammered, her face heating up as she tried to wiggle free.

    Sasha laughed, her voice low and playful. "What, you don''t like my body? I''ve been working really hard to keep it this sexy..."

    Why did Sasha have to say that in such a sultry tone? No idea. But Vomi¡¯s brain short-circuited from the unexpected physical contact and the whole situation.

    Vomi was frozen, her brain going a mile a minute but somehow completely failing to come up with a response. Sasha¡¯s arms were still loosely wrapped around her, and her teasing grin was practically radiating into the back of Vomi¡¯s head.

    ¡°Sasha... can you please... let go?¡± Vomi finally managed to get out, her voice tight.

    Sasha giggled but released her. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m just messing with you. You¡¯re way too easy to fluster.¡±

    Vomi turned around, face still slightly red, trying to compose herself. ¡°Yeah, well, not all of us are used to being naked around coworkers.¡±

    Sasha just shrugged, still amused as she sauntered over to her couch and flopped down. ¡°In my line of work, modesty is overrated. Now sit down, I¡¯ve got something to show you that¡¯ll blow your mind.¡±

    Vomi, still feeling awkward, cautiously sat down on the edge of the couch. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what to expect¡ª¡°big finds¡± usually came with a hefty dose of chaos.

    Sasha grabbed her data pad and tossed it into Vomi¡¯s lap. ¡°Here. Take a look at this.¡±

    Vomi glanced down at the pad, scanning the screen. It was filled with complex code, diagrams, and what looked like... access points? She frowned, her scientific mind trying to piece together what she was seeing.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°This is... a breach?¡± Vomi¡¯s tone shifted, growing more focused as she took in the data.

    Sasha grinned wider. ¡°Not just any breach. KanedaCorp¡¯s. They¡¯re moving some serious gear, including that new Cyberdeck¡ªOuroboros. Remember what we dug up with Takeo? They¡¯re shipping it, and I¡¯ve got the route they¡¯re using before it lands in a vault later this week.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed, the gears turning in her head. ¡°So you found an unsecured path into a corpo vault... and the route they¡¯re taking?¡±

    Sasha threw a towel over her shoulders, finally covering up, which made Vomi relax a little. ¡°Yep. And Takeo¡¯s already looped in, meaning M-Tech will probably be knocking any sec¡ª"

    A warning light blinked on.

    ¡°¡ªnow.¡± Sasha¡¯s face tightened.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Vomi asked, though she didn¡¯t need to with Vanguard linking with her thoughts.

    ¡°It¡¯s who you think,¡± Vanguard purred, leaping off Vomi¡¯s shoulder and landing in Sasha¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Graves. Your boss.¡± Sasha gave a smirk, pressing a button to open the door.

    Graves walked in, all business as usual. His corporate vibe was something Vomi never quite got used to¡ªslick, professional, and about as warm as a frozen slab of steel. He glanced at Sasha, barely acknowledging the towel, and then turned his attention to Vomi, giving a curt nod to both of them.

    ¡°Dr. Vomi, Sasha,¡± he said, his voice lacking any real warmth.

    ¡°Graves,¡± Sasha replied, her tone flat.

    Vomi, still piecing things together, asked, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Graves offered his polished corporate smile. ¡°Vomi, thank you for your assistance on this project. Due to your diligent work, alongside Sasha¡¯s rather unconventional methods of breaching the Blackwall, M-Tech has come across valuable intel regarding Project Ouroboros. Our CEO is highly interested in this delivery.¡±

    Sasha rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, petting Vanguard¡¯s fur, which seemed to calm her nerves more than anything else.

    "Forgive my ignorance," Vomi said, her voice suddenly much more corporate, "but are you suggesting that this delivery should be... ''redirected'' to M-Tech?"

    Graves gave a nod, the kind that could mean anything¡ªacknowledgment, flattery, or just following his well-rehearsed corporate script. "A sharp observation, Dr. Vomi. Securing this piece of cyberware for M-Tech is of great interest to our president. I assume this won¡¯t present any difficulties?"

    Vomi took a moment to consider. Typical corpo behavior¡ªstealing from other corps was practically an art form in places like Night City, but it seemed the same rules applied here in San Francisco.

    "No difficulties, as long as I¡¯m given time to review the intel properly," she responded, keeping her tone professional and composed.

    Sasha groaned from her seat, eyes closed as if already imagining the headache. "Ugh, if the job is to grab the deck, we¡¯re going to need a crew. KanedaCorp¡¯s security will be tight¡ªprobably Militech-grade hardware and top-tier cyberware guarding it. We need more than just a plan."

    Graves paused, then nodded. "Acceptable. Plan as you see fit, but when the time comes, the package must be in our possession."

    Sasha smirked, not missing a beat. "So, you¡¯re hiring me for this?"

    Graves frowned but held back whatever he was thinking. "Correct. Gather your team. Once the job is done, we¡¯ll discuss your payment."

    "Looks like we¡¯ve got a gig," Sasha said, standing and heading for her wardrobe to change on the spot.

    Vomi turned away, feeling a familiar discomfort, once again wondering why modesty wasn¡¯t part of Sasha¡¯s post-job routine.

    "I expect success, Dr. Vomi," Graves added before turning to leave, his tone less of a request and more of a warning.

    Vomi didn¡¯t miss the weight behind his words.

    Vomi let out a long sigh after Graves left, finally relaxing her shoulders. ¡°He¡¯s always gotta make it sound like a threat, huh?¡± she muttered, rubbing her temple.

    Sasha, now fully dressed¡ªthankfully¡ªsnorted. ¡°That¡¯s corpos for you. They can¡¯t ask for anything without dangling some sort of sword over your head.¡±

    Vomi shook her head. "I don''t even know why I¡¯m surprised anymore. It¡¯s always the same game with them."

    Sasha, now sitting cross-legged on her couch, fiddling with a small piece of tech, glanced up. ¡°So, you in? ''Cause this isn¡¯t exactly gonna be a walk in the park.¡±

    Vomi leaned against the wall, folding her arms. ¡°Do I have a choice? Graves made it pretty clear that failure isn¡¯t an option.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you could say no and let M-Tech deal with it,¡± Sasha said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Not that they wouldn¡¯t just find someone else to take your place. But that wouldn¡¯t look too great for you, would it?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Vomi replied, shaking her head. ¡°Plus, I¡¯m kinda curious about this cyberdeck. If it¡¯s as powerful as they say, I want to know what we¡¯re up against.¡±

    Sasha smirked. ¡°Of course you are. Not every day you deal with symbiotes coming out of your back. This deck probably has one of those too.¡±

    Vanguard, ever the serious one, chimed in. ¡°That¡¯s a possibility we can¡¯t ignore. The red symbiote is primal, I¡¯m sentient, but what if this one¡¯s something else entirely?¡±

    Vomi blinked, realizing the implications. ¡°That¡¯s... terrifying.¡±

    Sasha, mid-sip from her soda, paused, frowning. ¡°And considering you don¡¯t have full control over the other one yet¡­¡±

    They all went quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in.

    Then Sasha clapped her hands, breaking the silence. ¡°Anyway! Let¡¯s talk crew. Got any suggestions?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Vomi started, ¡°since we¡¯ve already got two Netrunners¡ªthough I¡¯m more offensive-minded¡­¡±

    ¡°I can be aggressive too!¡± Sasha interrupted, pouting.

    Vomi ignored her, continuing. ¡°...we¡¯re gonna need someone for long-range, plus two infantry types for close combat.¡±

    ¡°And a driver,¡± Vanguard added, tail flicking. ¡°Someone who can handle a fast getaway.¡±

    ¡°Right, it¡¯s an escort gig, so everyone will be in vehicles. But we¡¯ll need someone who can actually maneuver under pressure,¡± Vomi agreed.

    They all hummed in thought. Finding the right crew wasn¡¯t going to be easy.

    The Refused, maybe?

    No, Vomi only went with them for two gigs. There''s not enough experience alongside them to judge them on this one. But Heitor has military background¡­ maybe?

    ¡°I know a good driver. He''s a bit¡­ quirky, but good.¡±, Sasha said, already regretting suggesting it, ¡°His name is Carmine. He drives for a local gang of Artificers. Y''know, gonks that tinker with literally everything they can get their hands on?¡±

    ¡°Heard of them, but never heard of Carmine.¡±, Vomi nodded, remembering the gang, ¡°He''s a merc or a gangster?¡±

    ¡°Solo.¡±, She corrected, ¡°He works for whoever pays more.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. "A solo driver? Alright, if he''s good enough to handle an escort gig, I¡¯m game. But quirky how?"

    Sasha sighed. "Let''s just say he¡¯s... eccentric. Talks to his car like it¡¯s alive, calls it ''Baby.'' But trust me, the dude can drive like a demon when it counts."

    Vomi shrugged. "As long as he gets us out of there in one piece, I can deal with quirks."

    Vanguard flicked his tail, thoughtful. "What about the firepower? We need someone who can handle close combat, but not lose their head in a firefight."

    ¡°I was thinking about Heitor,¡± Vomi said, hesitating. ¡°He¡¯s ex-military, solid with weapons. But I haven¡¯t worked with him in a situation like this, corpo specifically. It¡¯s risky.¡±

    Sasha tilted her head. ¡°The drummer guy? If he¡¯s got the experience, it¡¯s worth considering. But who¡¯s the second?¡±

    Vomi leaned back, thinking. "We need someone adaptable, who can handle anything. What about Blaze? He¡¯s solid under pressure, good with close and mid-range weapons. Plus, he¡¯s got experience with gigs that involve corporate heat.¡±

    Sasha perked up at that. "Blaze, huh? Yeah, I¡¯ve heard of him. He could work. So, we¡¯ve got a driver, two infantry, and us two Netrunners. Should be enough to pull this off."

    Vomi nodded. ¡°I know Blaze and Heitor will be down for the gig. But what about Carmine?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±, Sasha said, suddenly remembering something, ¡°Yeah. That.¡±

    Vanguard blinked. Vomi blinked.

    ¡°Sasha?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ He is in jail.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    Vomi nearly dropped her glasses, her jaw hanging open. ¡°He¡¯s what?¡±

    Sasha cringed, scratching the back of her neck. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a... minor detail. He got busted for illegal street racing last week. It¡¯s a temporary hold. I think he¡¯s out by tomorrow?¡±

    Vomi rubbed her temples, sighing. ¡°We need him for a high-risk gig, and you¡¯re telling me he¡¯s in jail?¡±

    Sasha shrugged with a sheepish grin. ¡°Like I said, he¡¯s quirky. But if we can get him out, he¡¯s our guy. Trust me.¡±

    Vanguard snorted, amused. ¡°We¡¯re off to a great start.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no kidding.¡± Vomi shook her head. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll reach out to Blaze and Heitor. You work on getting Carmine out. We need him, and we can¡¯t afford any delays.¡±

    Sasha gave her a thumbs-up. ¡°I got it. Jail¡¯s just a temporary obstacle. You focus on getting the muscle. I¡¯ll deal with our speed demon.¡±

    Vomi sighed again, already feeling the weight of the gig bearing down on her. ¡°Let¡¯s hope this plan comes together. We can¡¯t afford for anything else to go sideways.¡±

    <hr>

    Blaze and Heitor were working on their latest project, trying to figure out how to get their business off the ground. Blaze used to just be the guy who installed electronics for anyone who¡¯d pay¡ªmostly corpos, unfortunately. He knew his stuff, though, and put that knowledge to good use every day. Heitor had a military background, keeping tabs on equipment and making sure everything was up to snuff. So, the two of them together made for a pretty solid, if low-key, operation. They actually met when Heitor was looking to leave his war-torn past behind, and Blaze just wanted some peace and quiet.

    But even with that peace, things got a little too dull. If it hadn¡¯t been for Raven showing up, looking to fix Nieme¡¯s bass and inviting them to join the band, they¡¯d probably still be just another pair of unknown techies in some random shop by Sign Hills. Sure, they were still pretty under the radar, but at least now they had a shot at making a name for themselves. Blaze on guitar and Heitor on drums? Perfect combo.

    Right now, they were deep in the trenches at their workshop, surrounded by tools and bits of electronics scattered everywhere. Blaze, with his wild hair and mismatched outfit, was hunched over a circuit board, soldering wires like a madman. Heitor was busy inspecting a set of modified weapons they¡¯d snagged for a client.

    ¡°Hey, Heitor, toss me that flux capacitor, would ya?¡± Blaze called out without looking up. ¡°I need to stop this circuit from frying itself.¡±

    Heitor raised an eyebrow, not impressed. ¡°You mean the flux capacitor you said was just a myth? You can¡¯t keep making up parts just to sound nova.¡±

    Blaze laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Come on, choom! I like to spice things up a bit. If we¡¯re trying to impress whoever buys this gear, we gotta make it sound preem.¡±

    Heitor rolled his eyes but handed over the part anyway. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I can¡¯t argue with results. But if you keep calling it that, I¡¯m charging you for every clich¨¦.¡±

    ¡°Deal!¡± Blaze grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll take you out for that new burger joint after this.¡±

    ¡°Only if they¡¯ve got real meat. I¡¯m sick of these synth substitutes,¡± Heitor said, moving on to their next task. ¡°We still need to fix the plumbing at Megabuilding 7.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because they still haven¡¯t sent over the blueprints,¡± Blaze replied, finishing up the circuit board. ¡°And don¡¯t even start; I know it¡¯s a corpo building. We can¡¯t do anything without the details.¡±

    ¡°You say that, but you made us take the job anyway,¡± Heitor said, clearly annoyed.

    ¡°Thought it¡¯d be a good idea!¡± Blaze said, pacing around. ¡°Who knew corpos would be so touchy about their blueprints? It¡¯s not like they¡¯re hiding anything, right?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re corpos. Do you really think they wouldn¡¯t have some secrets they want to keep under wraps? Did that thought ever cross your mind?¡± Heitor shot him a ¡°what the hell¡± look while Blaze stubbornly shook it off.

    ¡°I swear, if you bring this up again, I¡¯m gonna end up in jail.¡±

    Just then, the door chimed, and they both paused to see what the new client needed. Blaze slapped on a bright smile and stepped up to the counter, only to do a double take.

    ¡°Vomi?¡±

    ¡°Blaze?¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Um, I work here!¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Yes! We work here!¡± Heitor yelled from the back.

    ¡°Heitor?!¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Blaze snapped, rubbing his temples as his chrome arms fell at his sides, looking exhausted even if they were mechanical.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just I didn¡¯t know you two worked¡­ here.¡±, Vomi gestured to the place.

    ¡°Wow, subtle.¡±, Heitor said, finally showing up, fitting the circuit board back on the dashboard it was before, ¡°I know this place is junk, but you didn''t need to say it like that.¡±

    ¡°That wasn''t my intention.¡±, Vomi frowned. Sometimes people can''t take something lightly, ¡°What''s the dashboard for?¡±

    Blaze glanced at Heitor, giving a slight smirk as he leaned on the counter. "Yeah, subtlety ain¡¯t really your thing, huh?" He shook his head, then gestured towards the dashboard with a bit of pride. "That? Oh, nothing too fancy, just a custom setup for a client¡¯s ride. They wanted a dash that''ll monitor their... let''s say unofficial equipment, without raising any red flags."

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. "Unofficial, huh? Sounds like you¡¯re doing more than just your average installs these days."

    Heitor gave a half-shrug, looking almost bored as he adjusted the circuit. "Pays the bills. Plus, sometimes corpo jobs are too clean. A little dirty work here and there keeps things interesting."

    Blaze grinned. "Exactly! I mean, who wants to stick to corpo wiring gigs forever? You get what I''m saying, right? Speaking of which, why are you here? Got something that needs fixing? Or are you just checking in on your favorite tech heads?"

    Vomi crossed her arms, smirking back. "Actually, yeah, I do need something. I have a gig to show you two.¡±

    ¡°A gig?¡±

    ¡°It''s a long story, so sit tight.¡±

    Vomi explained the whole situation with Sasha, the Cyberdeck that KanedaCorp is transporting, Carmine and the fact that he is in prison and they will probably need to free him from it¡­ No detail was spared, not even M-Tech''s intentions with this, as much as Vomi thought it was better to hide some of it.

    Well, she did hide the fact that symbiotes are involved. Hard to explain this kind of stuff.

    Blaze leaned back in his chair, eyes wide as he listened to Vomi lay out the whole plan. Heitor, on the other hand, was rubbing his chin, already thinking about the logistics of pulling something like this off.

    "Wait, wait, wait," Blaze interrupted, holding up a hand. "You¡¯re telling me we need to jack a Cyberdeck from KanedaCorp and bust a guy out of prison? This isn¡¯t just your regular run-of-the-mill gig, Vomi. This is heavy stuff."

    Vomi nodded, her arms still crossed, eyes sharp. "I know. But you were and still are the only people I know that are¡­ disposed enough to go through this.¡±

    ¡°You mean psycho enough.¡±, Heitor chuckled.

    ¡°She ain''t wrong.¡±, Blaze nodded, "But why not just call Thiago? He''s been our driver. You saw it since you were in the van too.¡±

    Vomi sighed, ¡°Yeah I know, but that went smooth because the targets were easy to hack and I was updating everyone. Sasha is an even better Netrunner than I am and she suggested we pick up Carmine.¡±

    ¡°That has to count for something.¡±, Heitor nodded, ¡°I mean, if two people are suggesting a guy obsessed with his ride to do the job, who am I to complain?¡±

    ¡°Heitor, you are not really helping me.¡±, Blaze deadpanned.

    ¡°You don''t help yourself.¡±

    ¡°Well, the pay will be good. Big eddies in play, directly from M-Tech. I just need to know if you two are in.¡±, Vomi asked gingerly, since there weren''t many details of what they were putting themselves into.

    ¡°The Refused gig is next weekend anyways. Thiago is focusing on the album, Nieme is probably¡­ somewhere. Where the hell that guy even goes after we rehearse?¡±, Blaze asked suddenly, getting off tack.

    ¡°No clue.¡±, Heitor shrugged.

    ¡°Anyway, that means I will go to jail regardless. If not for boredom, be at least to delta someone out of it. I''m in.¡±

    ¡°Count me in too.¡±

    ¡°Alright then.¡±, Vomi smiled, grateful that her chooms agreed to the gig, ¡°I will review the details. When we need to meet for the gig I will give a briefing to everyone.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    With that, Vomi left, leaving the boys alone again. Heitor was quick to send a look to Blaze, ¡°You are going to jail.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°We didn''t finish Megabuilding 7.¡±

    ¡°Oh you MOTHERFUCKER!¡±

    As Vomi entered her Colby, she could hear the faint, but discernible noises of stuff breaking. But she decided to ignore it.

 Chapter 18: Troubles Coming

    Sasha, aka the Cat Netrunner, hit a wall. She was deep in the SFPD databanks, digging up info on why exactly Carmine got locked up. She knew it couldn¡¯t just be street racing. Racing alone doesn¡¯t get three squads to roll up and slap you with over 20 years. Nah, there was more to this story.

    And there it was. The guy wasn¡¯t just racing; he was moving chrome and drugs out of the NUSA. Eddies were flowing his way, and if waterfalls still existed, his cash flow would¡¯ve been one. The racing bit was just what got him caught, and when the cops scanned his ID, it was game over. He was nabbed on the spot.

    Sasha frowned. The charges were all over the place: trafficking, murder, assault, cyber breaches¡ªstuff she knew he didn¡¯t do¡ªand some sketchier stuff like running an illegal strip club. She laughed a little, wondering how something like that could even be ¡°illegal¡± in 2076, but quickly moved on. At least it wasn¡¯t a high-security joint, or the whole KanedaCorp heist plan would¡¯ve gone up in flames.

    But then she found something more interesting: Carmine was living inside this prison. The surveillance footage didn¡¯t lie¡ªgonk was thriving. He had good food, lots of company (Sasha didn¡¯t care who he was hooking up with, as long as he was good), and was somehow raking in even more eddies. Prison life had basically turned into his personal playground. The cops? Useless. They couldn¡¯t contain him.

    Still, they needed him for the job. She started sketching out a plan to bust him out, but then paused. M-Tech was behind this gig¡ªmaybe she could leverage their influence to speed things up. After a quick check, she didn¡¯t even need to jack into Cyberspace to see that the prison Carmine was in was, surprise surprise, funded by M-Tech. The government website was basically waving the info in everyone¡¯s face. Classic corpo arrogance.

    Carmine might not be in a rush to leave his little empire in there, but Sasha knew he wouldn¡¯t turn down a solid gig, especially one that involves hitting a corpo convoy. And with M-Tech funding the prison? A one-time probation deal could definitely be arranged. Simple enough.

    Sasha grinned to herself. ¡°Alright, me. Good plan.¡±

    And it really was. A few calls here, some proof there¡ªthanks to corpos always needing contracts with their mercs¡ªalong with a small ¡°compensation fee,¡± and the wheels were in motion. Now she just had to get Carmine on board. Luckily, prison phones still worked for calls.

    Lying on her bed, legs swinging off the edge, Sasha tapped Carmine¡¯s number into her agent. After a few rings, she heard his familiar, laid-back voice.

    ¡°Yo, who¡¯s this?¡±

    Sasha smirked. ¡°Your way out, Carmine. You still wanna roll, or you too cozy in that prison suite?¡±

    ¡°Sasha?¡± His tone perked up instantly. ¡°Choom! Long time, no see! How¡¯s life treating you?¡±

    ¡°Eh, the usual. Met some corpos, dug up dirt here in San Fran¡­¡±

    He laughed. ¡°Same old Sasha. But I¡¯m guessing this isn¡¯t just a friendly catch-up, is it?¡±

    Sasha snorted. ¡°Well, couldn¡¯t leave my favorite Canadian behind. You¡¯re too good a driver to waste, even if you¡¯re obsessed with that car of yours.¡±

    ¡°Hey, my Quadra Rowley¡¯s a beast!¡±

    ¡°Trust me, I¡¯ll never forget,¡± she teased.

    ¡°Alright, so what¡¯s the gig? Sounds juicy.¡± He paused, then grumbled off the line, ¡°Hey! Hands off my food! Sorry, some gonk thought he could snatch my plate.¡±

    Sasha chuckled at the interruption. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re living large in there. You sure you even wanna leave?¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah, I wanna leave! Prison food ain¡¯t that good,¡± Carmine said, still sounding a bit distracted. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan? You busting me out or what?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± she said, stretching out on her bed, getting comfortable. ¡°Turns out, you¡¯ve got friends in high places¡ªor at least, I do. M-Tech¡¯s got some pull in that joint, and I¡¯ve greased enough palms to get you out on probation. No messy jailbreak needed.¡±

    Carmine whistled, impressed. ¡°Probation, huh? The corpo types sure know how to work the system. What¡¯s the catch?¡±

    Sasha grinned, knowing she had him hooked. ¡°We got a heist lined up. Big corpo convoy, KanedaCorp. Cyberdeck tech that¡¯s worth more than your entire prison stay. You in?¡±

    He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re offering me freedom and a payday? Thought you¡¯d never ask. When do we delta?¡±

    ¡°Soon as you''re out. I¡¯ll ping you the deetes once you¡¯re in the clear. Shouldn¡¯t take long now, everything¡¯s already set.¡±

    ¡°Damn, Sasha. You always come through,¡± Carmine said, his voice more serious now. ¡°Just tell me where and when.¡±

    Sasha smirked. ¡°Welcome back to the real world, Carmine. We¡¯ll talk soon. Keep your head down till I pull the strings, alright?¡±

    ¡°Got it. And Sasha? Thanks.¡±

    She hung up, feeling pretty satisfied with herself. This gig was shaping up nicely.

    ¡°Alright, that''s settled. Now, does our good ol'' Carmine still have access to his Rowley?¡±, She wondered, checking the traffic files.

    Indeed, the car was impounded, but still in his name. Should be easy to solve this issue. Some alterations here, a little evidence erased there and the car is almost clean, just some speeding tickets and fines due to pay. Nothing too major, after all, Vomi paid a lot to her for the first gig. All she needed to do is go, pick up the car, pick up Carmine and meet at whatever location the scientist told them to.

    Better make a call though.

    After dialing Vomi through the Agent, Sasha just waited for a taxi to pick her up. No deed to rush just to pick up a car.

    As she waited for the call to connect, Sasha glanced out the window at the chaotic streets of San Fran. The place never stopped moving. At least things were looking up for once. The plan was solid, Carmine was ready, and she even managed to fix the issue with his car in record time.

    Vomi picked up. ¡°What¡¯s up, Sasha? You good?¡±

    ¡°All good, Corpo Kitty,¡± Sasha replied casually, ¡°Carmine¡¯s on board. I¡¯ve already worked my magic to get him out on probation. Oh, and his Quadra? It¡¯s almost clean. Just gotta pick it up.¡±

    Vomi let out a relieved breath on the other end. ¡°Nice. I''ve already set up with the boys too, so we will have the firepower. Anything else we need to worry about?¡±

    ¡°Not unless KanedaCorp''s hired a full team of mercs to protect their shiny new toys. You got the location we¡¯re meeting at yet?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, got it from our lovely scientist contact. I¡¯ll send it over.¡± Vomi paused before adding, ¡°Oh, and make sure Carmine doesn¡¯t get too excited once he¡¯s out. I don¡¯t want him drawing attention to us right off the bat.¡±

    Sasha laughed. ¡°No promises. But yeah, I¡¯ll keep him in check.¡±

    The call ended, and Sasha''s timing was perfect¡ªher taxi pulled up right on cue. She tossed her bag into the back and hopped in. Time to snag Carmine¡¯s car and handle this part of the job. After that, it was straight to the real action.

    <hr>

    Vomi was cruising in her Colby after a quick stop at her place to grab some guns she¡¯d swiped from smaller gigs. Figured she''d hand them out to the crew, but her mind wasn¡¯t just on gear¡ªit was on Vanguard. Sasha knew about Vanguard being a symbiote, but Blaze and Heitor? Not a clue, and Vomi wanted to keep it that way. Less they knew, the better. Plus, whenever she and Vanguard merged, The red symbiote was easier to control, more chill. Or maybe just cautious.

    ¡°Vang, I think it¡¯s time we team up again. Your cat form¡¯s cute and all, but I need things to go smoothly. I don¡¯t want a repeat of the Ascendant Innovations mess,¡± Vomi said, her tone firm but calm¡ªmore of a heads-up than anything.

    ¡°Agreed. I¡¯d rather not risk it either. Playing it safe this time,¡± Vanguard replied from the dashboard.

    He leapt toward her, shifting into his usual black goo form and merging back with her, tendrils weaving into her skin.

    Vomi glanced at her arms, watching them shift from pure black back to her usual gray. ¡°We¡¯re stronger together anyway, so it¡¯s a win.¡±

    ¡°And yet, you still adore my cat form,¡± Vanguard teased, his voice sounding a bit more mature now.

    ¡°Hard not to, especially in a world where real animals are practically extinct,¡± she said with a shake of her head, focusing back on the road. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe Graves set the meet-up in a corpo building.¡±

    ¡°Of course he did. He wants to see the team¡¯s reaction.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but he could¡¯ve done that anywhere. So why here?¡±

    Vanguard let out a low hum, deep in thought. ¡°Maybe he thinks it¡¯ll intimidate you. A way to remind you who¡¯s in charge.¡±

    Vomi rolled her eyes. ¡°As if I need that reminder. We know the stakes. Still, it feels like a power move. I just hope it doesn¡¯t mess with our focus.¡±

    ¡°Stay sharp, and we¡¯ll be fine,¡± Vanguard replied, reassuringly. ¡°Just stick to the plan.¡±

    Vomi turned the corner, spotting Sasha outside the corpo building, waving with a grin on her face.

    ¡°Alright, stick to the plan,¡± she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Vanguard chimed in. ¡°No distractions, no improvising¡ªunless absolutely necessary.¡±

    She parked beside the Sasha, stepping out of her Colby and giving her a nod. ¡°Looks like you handled the car situation.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, smooth as synth butter,¡± Sasha replied with a wink. ¡°Carmine¡¯s gonna be happy to see his car. You ready for this?¡±

    Vomi glanced up at the towering corpo building, her expression hardening. ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be. Let¡¯s get this done.¡±

    Sasha tapped her agent, syncing up with Vomi. ¡°Good. We¡¯re on a tight schedule. Carmine¡¯s out, the car¡¯s prepped, and now all we need is to plan the heist, take it and leave.¡±

    Vomi gave a slight smirk. ¡°Sounds simple enough.¡±

    Sasha laughed, shaking her head. ¡°You and I both know it¡¯s never simple. But hey, that¡¯s what makes it fun, right?¡±

    ¡°Fun¡¯s one word for it,¡± Vomi muttered, then glanced at the Rowley again. ¡°Think this thing can handle what¡¯s coming next?¡±

    Sasha grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°Oh, trust me, the car can handle anything we throw at it.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope you¡¯re right.¡± Vomi slid back into her Colby, inclining the seat so she could lay down, ¡°Just gotta wait for the boys then.¡±

    ¡°Heitor, Blaze and Carmine.¡±, She nodded, laying at the driver''s door of the Colby, ¡°I know how much of a gonk Carmine is, but what about your chooms? Are they good?¡±

    ¡°Solid enough to not shit their own pants?¡±, Vomi asked, looking at the car¡¯s ceiling, ¡°Yeah, they can handle it.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Preem.¡±, She said, popping up a soda can.

    They hung around for a bit, mostly just killing time while waiting for Heitor and Blaze to show up. Vomi fiddled with the radio, trying to find something worth listening to, while Sasha was deep into her mobile game¡ªsome fantasy RPG with magic and silver swords. Eventually, the radio landed on ¡°I Really Want To Stay At Your House,¡± and Vomi froze. Instantly, her mood dropped, and a wave of sadness hit her.

    Sasha glanced over, noticing the shift in Vomi¡¯s expression. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up? You good?¡±

    Vomi stared off into space, not really focused on anything. ¡°Just... bad memories.¡±

    Sasha paused her game, offering a sympathetic nod. ¡°You know you can talk to me if you want.¡±

    But Vomi just shook her head. Nah, she wasn¡¯t about to open that box. Instead, she made a mental note: the Edgerunners story? Yeah, she¡¯d make sure it ended differently this time.

    Fuck canon.

    A few minutes later, Blaze and Heitor pulled up on an Arch motorcycle¡ªnothing fancy, just your standard low-cost ride that still managed to look cool. They weren¡¯t exactly dressed to impress, either, but it wasn¡¯t like anyone expected them to. Comparing Sasha¡¯s leotard to their hoodies was like night and day, but no one said anything. Vomi shut off the radio and climbed out of her Colby.

    ¡°Hey, guys,¡± she greeted, forcing a smile to replace her earlier sulky mood.

    Heitor just gave a nod in return.

    ¡°Nice threads,¡± Sasha teased, grinning. ¡°For a couple of rockerboys, that is.¡±

    Blaze shrugged, not fazed by the jab. ¡°Kinda hard to look corpo when you¡¯ve never even been in the same room as one.¡±

    ¡°So, where¡¯s this Carmine guy?¡± Blaze asked, glancing around.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be here soon,¡± Sasha replied, going back to her game. ¡°Probably tied up with some probation paperwork.¡±

    Heitor raised an eyebrow. ¡°Wait, what? Probation?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Vomi chuckled. ¡°Sasha¡¯s bringing in a guy fresh out of prison.¡±

    Blaze ran a hand over his chrome arm, looking mildly amused. ¡°Great. The crew just keeps getting weirder. Corpo contracts are always sketchy.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got no idea,¡± Sasha chimed in without looking up from her game, the sound of combat filling the silence.

    Vomi tried to defend the situation, ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s not that bad. As long as you¡ª¡±

    Blaze cut her off, hand up in her face. ¡°You¡¯re a corpo, Vomi. Everything you say is biased. The only reason I¡¯m here is because you wrote Devil Trigger. That¡¯s the most rebellious thing The Refused will ever play.¡±

    Vomi resisted the urge to tell him the song wasn¡¯t even hers originally, but the awkwardness still hung in the air. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll shut up about corpos.¡±

    ¡°Good call,¡± Heitor said, digging into his backpack and pulling out some snacks. He tossed one to Sasha, who happily accepted.

    They stood around for a bit, just shooting the breeze while waiting for Carmine to show up. Vomi leaned against her car, arms crossed. Blaze sat on the edge of his Arch, tapping out a rhythm on his chrome arm, while Heitor casually munched on his snacks.

    ¡°So, how¡¯s the shop been lately?¡± Vomi asked, trying to keep things light.

    Blaze shrugged. ¡°Same old, same old. We had some corpo suit try to stiff us on a custom job last week. Guy thought he could negotiate a discount after we already did the work.¡±

    Heitor scoffed. ¡°Yeah, like we¡¯re some pushovers. I told him straight up: pay or we rip the damn thing out. He changed his tune real quick.¡±

    Sasha chuckled, still focused on her game. ¡°I love how corpos always act like they¡¯re doing you a favor by underpaying you.¡±

    ¡°Right?¡± Blaze laughed. ¡°Like, we¡¯re the ones fixing their overpriced tech so it doesn¡¯t fry their brains. A little appreciation wouldn¡¯t hurt.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of tech,¡± Vomi said, looking at Blaze, ¡°you think that Cyberdeck we¡¯re after is gonna be a tough ICE to melt?¡±

    Blaze tilted his head thoughtfully. ¡°Depends on what kind of security KanedaCorp¡¯s slapped on it. If it¡¯s military-grade, it might take a bit. But nothing we haven¡¯t handled before, right?¡±

    Heitor chimed in, ¡°We¡¯ve cracked worse. Just gotta have the right tools.¡±

    ¡°Good thing we¡¯ve got you two, then,¡± Vomi grinned.

    Sasha paused her game to join in. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan once Carmine¡¯s in? Is he just gonna drive, or are we putting him on backup in case things get messy?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s definitely driving,¡± Vomi said, thinking it through. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t mind having him as backup muscle. If we¡¯re getting shot at, more hands won¡¯t hurt.¡±

    Blaze raised an eyebrow. ¡°The guy just got out of prison, and you¡¯re throwing him right back into the fire?¡±

    Vomi shrugged. ¡°He knows what he signed up for.¡±

    ¡°Fair point.¡± Blaze smirked, then looked around. ¡°Where the hell is he anyway?¡±

    As if on cue, the roar of Carmine¡¯s Quadra Rowley echoed down the street, turning heads as it screeched to a stop in front of them. The car gleamed under the city lights, freshly liberated from impound. Vomi had to admit that the car just had that vibe, even if she wasn''t a car enthusiast. The thing just screamed I am Speed.

    ¡°Speak of the devil,¡± Sasha muttered, stuffing her mobile into her pocket.

    Carmine stepped out, grinning like he¡¯d just walked out of a day spa instead of prison. ¡°Miss me, choombas?¡±

    Carmine hopped out of his Quadra, stretching his arms like a man fresh off vacation, not prison. His grin was wide, and his demeanor screamed cocky confidence.

    Blaze crossed his arms, eyeing the car. ¡°You sure you didn¡¯t have this thing stashed in the prison garage, Carmine?¡±

    ¡°Please, choom,¡± Carmine replied with a wave, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let the badgeheads touch my baby. Besides, Sasha worked her magic. She¡¯s the reason I¡¯m cruising around again.¡± He shot her a wink.

    Sasha gave a half-smirk, flipping her hair out of her face. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Just make sure you don¡¯t get caught again. I¡¯m not doing this twice.¡±

    ¡°Duly noted,¡± Carmine chuckled, then looked over at the rest of the crew. ¡°So, who¡¯s who? I know Sasha, obviously, but you guys?¡±

    Blaze stepped forward first, giving Carmine a once-over. ¡°Blaze. I do tech and, on occasion, set things on fire when needed.¡±

    Carmine raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°Pyro, huh? I like it. You in charge of rigging stuff up for this gig?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Blaze replied, smirking. ¡°And this is Heitor. Our resident military man.¡±

    Heitor nodded, still munching on a snack. ¡°Ex-military, but yeah. I handle the heavy lifting.¡±

    Carmine¡¯s eyes flicked to the man¡¯s ganic arms, comparing them to Blaze''s. ¡°Bet you¡¯re fun at parties.¡±

    Heitor just shrugged. ¡°More fun when things blow up.¡±

    Vomi stepped forward then, giving Carmine a nod. ¡°And I¡¯m Vomi. Scientist, tech expert, and, well¡­ let¡¯s just say I¡¯ve got connections.¡±

    Carmine studied her for a moment, his grin widening. ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re the brains behind this op. Nice to meet you, boss.¡±

    Vomi gave him a dry smile. ¡°Not the boss, just coordinating things. We¡¯re all in this together.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the fixer then.¡±, Carmine cracked his knuckles, clearly eager to get going. ¡°So, what¡¯s the gig? Sasha mentioned a corpo heist, and I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    Sasha cut in before anyone else could speak. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re hitting a KanedaCorp convoy for a Cyberdeck. You¡¯ll be driving, and if things go sideways, we might need your muscle, too.¡±

    Carmine¡¯s grin widened even more, if that was possible. ¡°Sounds like my kind of party. You know me¡ªgive me a fast car and a bit of chaos, and I¡¯m set.¡±

    Blaze chuckled, clearly warming up to the guy. ¡°Alright, adrenaline junkie. Let¡¯s just hope you don¡¯t burn too much rubber before we get there.¡±

    Vomi shook her head, amused. ¡°Before we get ahead of ourselves, we need to meet at the corpo office for the gig brief. Graves wants to ¡®assess the team¡¯ or whatever.¡±

    Carmine raised an eyebrow, his laid-back attitude not fading. ¡°Graves? Corpo type, I¡¯m guessing?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Vomi replied, ¡°don¡¯t let him rattle you. Just nod, smile, and we¡¯ll be out of there soon enough.¡±

    ¡°Corporate spiel. Got it.¡± Carmine tapped the roof of his car. ¡°So, we rolling out now?¡±

    Heitor tossed the rest of his snack into the trash. ¡°Might as well. No point waiting around.¡±

    As they walked, Sasha set up a quick local chat, the conversation on the comms kept things light.

    ¡°So,¡± Blaze said through the link, ¡°any bets on how long it¡¯ll take for the corpo to get under Carmine¡¯s skin?¡±

    Carmine laughed. ¡°Please. I¡¯ve dealt with worse. This corpo¡¯s got nothing on prison guards.¡±

    Sasha snickered. ¡°Let¡¯s just see how long that attitude holds up. These suits have a way of getting under your chrome.¡±

    Vomi shook her head as they neared the towering glass building that was their destination. ¡°Just remember¡ªstick to the plan, and we¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Carmine¡¯s voice came through the comms again, sounding more serious this time. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I got your back. Let¡¯s get this show on the road.¡±

    As they stepped out, the vibe shifted slightly, the casual banter giving way to a more focused energy. It was game time now.

    ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick,¡± Vomi said, adjusting her jacket. ¡°In and out. No unnecessary drama.¡±

    Blaze cracked his knuckles. ¡°Drama¡¯s my middle name.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t make that literal,¡± Sasha muttered, leading the way toward the entrance.

    They stepped into the elevator, and sure enough, the classic elevator music kicked in. Jazz, of all things. Maybe corpos still thought it was classy in 2077, or it was just a tradition that somehow hadn¡¯t died yet. Either way, it was just background noise as they rode up. Vomi looked like she belonged, but the rest of the crew? Yeah, they stuck out. Still, no one bothered them, probably because they were with someone who had a legit reason to be there¡ªcourtesy of Vomi¡¯s M-Tech connection.

    The elevator dinged, opening to the 34th floor¡ªa long hallway lined with meeting rooms. The room reserved for them was a small, tucked-away space, perfect for the kind of conversation they were about to have. Not flashy, but private enough for discussing the heist of the Ouroboros Cyberdeck. Sasha¡¯s intel was solid, and with the team they¡¯d pulled together, things should run smoothly¡ªwell, in theory. Vomi knew better than to assume anything would go according to plan.

    Graves was already there, scrolling through files on his agent, his eyes glowing with that familiar yellow tint from the implant. He snapped out of it when they entered, closing the file and standing to greet them.

    ¡°Good afternoon. I trust everything went smoothly on your way up?¡± Graves gestured to the seats around the sleek, very corpo-looking table, taking the far end for himself, of course.

    ¡°Thanks to my M-Tech position, no one gave us more than a passing glance,¡± Vomi said, nodding politely as she sat next to him.

    The rest of the crew exchanged looks. All they heard was ¡°corpo talk.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡±, Graves said, giving a judgeful yet silent glance at the group as he took his seat, ¡°I assume you told the necessary details?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They are informed of the basics.¡±, Vomi said, readjusting her glasses, ¡°But since everyone is here, it won''t hurt to recap what we know and what we are going to do.¡±

    ¡°I mean, yeah, I only know the target. I have no idea of what the plan is.¡±, Carmine nodded, glad that he was going to catch up with what''s happening.

    Sasha coughed, trying to sound professional, ¡°So, this weekend, KanedaCorp will relocate one of their brand new Cyberdeck to a vault located in their main building. That in itself isn''t anything to go by, but the Cyberdeck was developed using¡­ unorthodox means, such as the Blackwall study to develop it.¡±

    ¡°Blackwall tech, huh?¡± Blaze raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. ¡°That¡¯s some deep, dark shit right there.¡±

    Heitor nodded, crossing his arms. ¡°And let me guess, we¡¯re supposed to jack it before it gets locked down?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Sasha continued, her tone sharp. ¡°This thing¡¯s been built with some serious firepower behind it. We don¡¯t know exactly what it can do, but we know it¡¯s bad news in the wrong hands. M-Tech hired us to steal it before KanedaCorp can use it.¡±

    ¡°And when you say ¡®unorthodox,¡¯¡± Carmine added, ¡°you mean dangerous as fuck?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Vomi confirmed.

    ¡°Preem.¡±

    Vomi continued, ¡°This isn¡¯t just a standard heist. We¡¯re talking military-grade tech, Blackwall-level encryption, and god knows what kind of defensive measures they¡¯ve got in place. But we¡¯ve got an inside man who can help. His info should give us the edge we need.¡±

    Graves, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up. ¡°This is not your typical smash-and-grab. You¡¯ll need precision, timing, and a lot of coordination. Once that Cyberdeck is in KanedaCorp¡¯s vault, it¡¯s over. You need to hit them on the road, while it¡¯s in transit. That¡¯s the only window of opportunity we have.¡±

    Carmine smirked. ¡°I assume that¡¯s where I come in. You need someone fast and crazy enough to pull this off.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Vomi replied. ¡°Your driving will be key. We intercept the convoy, grab the Cyberdeck, and get out before anyone knows what hit them.¡±

    ¡°Sounds simple enough,¡± Heitor said with a shrug. ¡°But what¡¯s the catch? There¡¯s always a catch.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always a catch,¡± Sasha echoed. ¡°KanedaCorp¡¯s got a convoy of heavily armed vehicles escorting this thing. We¡¯re talking drones, armored trucks, the works. It¡¯s going to be like cracking a safe while getting shot at.¡±

    ¡°Ah, sounds like a party,¡± Blaze chuckled, clearly unfazed, ¡°I already have an idea.¡±

    ¡°Care to share?¡±, Sasha pointed at Blaze, who was looking a bit mischievous.

    ¡°A EMP. Heitor knows how to make one powerful enough that can even overcharge Cyberware.¡±, He explained, his eyes glinting with excitement.

    ¡°And the fact I am the only fully ganic here means I am the only person who can use it safely.¡±, Heitor added with a groan, ¡°It will do harm even for vehicles.¡±

    ¡°I''m glad my Rowley is still just metal parts.¡±, Carmine sighed in relief.

    Vomi nodded, adjusting her glasses again. ¡°We need everyone at the top of their game. Blaze, Heitor, you¡¯ll handle the tech, the EMP and security systems. Carmine, you¡¯ll be our driver. Sasha and I will handle the breach and if necessary, gunfire. Once we¡¯ve got the Cyberdeck, we rendezvous at the extraction point.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like we¡¯ve got our work cut out for us,¡± Blaze said, cracking his knuckles. ¡°But I¡¯m in.¡±

    Heitor grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done.¡±

    Carmine leaned back, his arms crossed. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to dust off the Rowley, then.¡±

    Vomi smirked. ¡°Glad to have you all on board. But it''s time for us to get some gear.¡±

    As soon as she said that, the room was filled with some employees putting a lot, and I mean a lot of guns on the table, so much that even Graves was appalled by the quantity.

    ¡°Jesus fucking Christ! Where did all this iron come from?¡±, Carmine was the first to react, watching the countless Revolvers, Pistola, SMGs, AR, Battle Rifles, Sniper Rifles and the such just fall on the table.

    ¡°Got them on my gigs before joining M-Tech. Feel free to choose, chooms.¡±, Vomi gave a corporate grin, but one that was all the sassy too.

    Vanguard, who was quiet for a while, snickered on their minds, ¡°No foreplay?¡±

    ¡°None.¡± She replied back.

    Carmine whistled, still eyeing the pile of weapons. "Looks like Christmas came early."

    Blaze picked up a sleek-looking SMG, checking the weight. "Damn, Vomi, you weren¡¯t kidding about being prepared."

    Heitor grabbed a battle rifle, inspecting the sights. "Yeah, well, we¡¯re going to need every piece of this iron if things go sideways. KanedaCorp isn¡¯t going to make this easy."

    Sasha was already loading a pistol, her face set with determination. "No doubt. They¡¯ll have the big guns too. We¡¯ve got to be faster, smarter."

    Carmine walked over, picking out a revolver. "Good ol¡¯ six-shooter. Never goes out of style."

    Vomi watched them all gear up, her mind running through the details. ¡°We¡¯ll need to make sure everyone¡¯s synced up for this. Timing¡¯s everything. Blaze, Heitor, you prep the EMP and make sure it¡¯s ready to go when we hit the convoy. Carmine, I¡¯ll need you on standby, ready to bolt as soon as we grab the Cyberdeck.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Carmine said with a grin. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready to burn rubber.¡±

    Blaze nodded, strapping the SMG to his side. ¡°We¡¯ll handle the tech. The EMP will fry their systems long enough for us to make our move.¡±

    Heitor gave a mock salute. ¡°We¡¯re in business.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Vomi said, adjusting her glasses once more. ¡°No mistakes. No hesitation. We move fast and hit hard.¡±

    Graves, who had been silently observing the team gear up, stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯ll be monitoring the operation. If anything goes wrong, don''t come back. This can''t be traced back to us.¡±

    Vomi gave him a sharp nod. ¡°We¡¯ll get it done.¡±

    As the team finished grabbing their gear, the atmosphere in the room grew tense. The mission was set, and now it was just a matter of execution. One wrong move, and they could all end up dead¡ªor worse, in the hands of KanedaCorp.

    But if they pulled it off? The pay would set them for life. Well, for the next few months at least.

    Vomi stepped towards the door, ready to lead the charge. ¡°Let¡¯s make this count.¡±

 Chapter 19: Could be better, could be worse too.

    Saturday

    ¡°How long ''til the gonks show up?¡± Carmine asked over comms, fingers tapping impatiently on the Rowley''s wheel.

    ¡°They¡¯re en route, as far as I can see,¡± Sasha replied, eyes scanning the convoy on her map.

    Sasha was the only one not in the field, her Netrunning skills way sharper than Vomi''s. She actually dived into Cyberspace, while Vomi stayed jacked out, mostly focused on gunfire. Nobody wanted two Netrunners at a shootout anyway, especially since Vomi wasn¡¯t even packing a cyberdeck. Safer to have Sasha plugged in somewhere secure and encrypted, keeping tabs on the net.

    Blaze was putting the final tweaks on his shotgun, modding it with a grenade launcher. Simple enough, though Vomi was itching to help. Heitor had whipped up the grenades, still fiddling with the EMP in his hands. The chrome-armed nut was leaning against his Arch bike, tossing in last-minute suggestions on the EMP before it was good to go. The plan was wild: Blaze and Heitor would cruise down the highway, right behind the convoy, asking to pass. Of course, the convoy wouldn¡¯t be speeding¡ªthis was a hush-hush relocation. Two randos overtaking on the road wouldn¡¯t even raise a brow.

    Then came Heitor¡¯s crazy part: jump off the bike, fake a wreck, and slap the EMP onto the truck holding the cyberdeck. Dumb as fuck? Yeah. But Heitor swore it was the best way to pull this off. Get the corpos in the convoy so rattled by the ¡°accident¡± they wouldn¡¯t even clock the real move. Make it look so stupid they couldn¡¯t believe it was a hit. Grab the deck, jack out, and delta fast.

    Vomi had to hand it to him¡ªstupidly brilliant. Whatever warzone experience Heitor¡¯s got, it¡¯s best left unspoken.

    ¡°Still bored as hell sittin'' here,¡± Carmine groaned, slumping in his seat.

    Vomi rolled her eyes. Not like she could blame him. The wait sucked.

    ¡°Stay sharp. Eagerness can lead to mistakes,¡± Vanguard¡¯s voice pulsed calmly in her head, a quiet warning.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know,¡± she muttered, still annoyed.

    ¡°Heitor, Blaze, get in position. They¡¯re close,¡± Sasha cut in. ¡°I can see net traffic spiking in the net as they move.¡±

    ¡°Right on time. EMP¡¯s good to go,¡± Heitor said, shoving it into his backpack.

    ¡°Alright, chooms. Let¡¯s do this,¡± Blaze said as his Arch screeched off.

    The bike went really fast for something that was apparently cheap. Doesn''t matter, everyone is armed with good Iron. Well, except for Carmine.

    Vomi tapped Carmine¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You sure a revolver¡¯s all you want?¡±

    Carmine straightened up, ¡°I¡¯m just the driver, boss. Revolver¡¯s just in case.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself then.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re on the highway,¡± Sasha¡¯s voice tightened, urgency seeping in.

    ¡°In position,¡± Heitor said, sounding uncharacteristically professional.

    Ex-military instincts kicking in, no doubt.

    The convoy was small, probably to make it as covert as possible. Two armored vehicles and a small truck in between them, only one combat drone (which was more like a robot than anything, but who cares) and as far as Sasha could see, six personnel inside the three vehicles. The traffic was heavy thanks to the weekend, but not as bothersome that it would delay the convoy. KanedaCorp''s brand was at the side of the vehicles, so, for all they cared, traffic was light.

    And to no one''s surprise, cars and bikes got out of their way. No one wanted to mess with corpos.

    ¡°Alright, we will tag along for a while, then we will try to speed up to see their reaction.¡±, Blaze explained as the engine of his bike roared in the background.

    ¡°Go for it. I am listening to their comms.¡±, Sasha commented, her bored tone audible, ¡°Apparently they are complaining about this relocation. One of them had a weekend date.¡±

    ¡°Well, if he is lucky, he will still have a date to go back to.¡±, Carmine snarked, his enthusiasm more focused on the gig than whatever the corpo employee¡¯s plans might be.

    ¡°No need to be rude.¡±, Vomi said as she redied her Chimera, the rifle as ready as ever to work his magic.

    The bike followed the convoy, some attempts to overtake being made but nothing concrete for a while. The drivers eventually noticed that two civilians were trying to pass, although they failed as the convoy readjusted their own formation to keep up with the traffic. The combat robot on top of the last armored vehicle scanned Blaze and Heitor, but as far as it could tell, nothing was out of the ordinary. Blaze even complained about how the convoy was slow to give them a more credible look.

    Sasha hummed, ¡°Looks like they know that you want to pass.¡±

    ¡°They better. We will soon pass Carmine.¡±, Heitor chimed in, although he wasn''t as thrilled. He was in full military mode now.

    ¡°They were considering, but looks like they agreed on letting you pass.¡±, The Netrunner informed.

    As soon as Blaze spotted his window, he gunned it, weaving through traffic like it was a slalom course, pulling stunts just to sell the act. He even threw in a wheelie, ¡®cause why not?

    ¡°Chill the fuck out!¡± Heitor yelled, sounding like he was holding on for dear life. ¡°I¡¯m still here, you psycho!¡±

    Vomi, Carmine, and Sasha weren¡¯t sure if this was acting or if Heitor was genuinely about to become roadkill.

    Blaze¡¯s laughter echoed through the comms. ¡°Relax, choom, it¡¯s all part of the plan!¡±

    ¡°Plan to kill me, maybe,¡± Heitor grumbled, gripping tighter. ¡°If we crash, I¡¯m putting you under the wheels.¡±

    Vomi shook her head, giving Carmine a look. ¡°Heh, sure.¡±

    ¡°Showboating,¡± Carmine muttered, adjusting his revolver. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they don¡¯t frag the whole gig.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s voice broke in, more serious now. ¡°Alright, Blaze, knock it off. You¡¯re clear. Heitor, get ready.¡±

    Blaze eased up, slowing just enough to stay ahead of the convoy. Heitor was already setting up the EMP, hands steady as he got ready to make the drop.

    ¡°Here goes nothin¡¯,¡± Heitor muttered.

    Blaze gave the signal, and Heitor made his move. The bike wobbled, Blaze swerved like he was losing control, and Heitor let out a loud, fake yell as he tumbled off the back, rolling across the road right in front of the truck. It was chaotic, but just the right amount of messy to avoid a pileup.

    ¡°Man down, chooms!¡± Sasha called out in comms, keeping the act rolling. ¡°They¡¯re stoppin¡¯.¡±

    The convoy hit the brakes hard, tires screeching. The combat drone on the last armored vehicle zeroed in on Heitor, scanning him while Blaze sped ahead, looking like just another lucky escape.

    Heitor lay still, playing the knocked-out civvie, while his hand slid the EMP onto the truck¡¯s undercarriage, smooth as chrome.

    ¡°EMP¡¯s set,¡± he whispered, nerves in his voice. ¡°Fireworks incoming.¡±

    He just fell off a moving bike, so of course he isn''t 100%.

    Carmine, parked further down the road, revved the Rowley¡¯s engine. ¡°Let¡¯s get this rolling.¡±

    Sasha, jacked into the net, kept tabs on the convoy¡¯s comms. ¡°They¡¯re callin¡¯ for a med team. You¡¯ve got seconds before they figure out the jig.¡±

    Vomi cocked her rifle, slipping on a helmet to cover her face. ¡°Ready when you are, Sasha.¡±

    Gotta keep her face off the grid; no way M-Tech wanted this blowing back on them.

    The convoy had fully stopped, and a couple of guards stepped out of the truck, approaching Heitor cautiously. The combat drone kept its sights locked on him.

    Sasha smirked, her fingers flying over the interface. ¡°And... now.¡±

    The EMP pulsed out, a shockwave of blue lighting up the convoy. The drone sparked and died, the truck¡¯s systems went haywire, and the guards, full of chrome, froze as their cyberware overloaded¡ªsome even frying on the spot.

    ¡°Move!¡± Vomi yelled, leaning out the Rowley¡¯s window, rifle ready.

    Blaze whipped the bike around, racing back toward the convoy, and Carmine floored it, speeding toward the scene.

    Heitor sprang to his feet, grinning. ¡°Told y''all it would work.¡±

    Carmine skidded the Rowley right in front of the truck, Vomi hanging out the side with Chimera, firing off precise shots, dropping the guards before they even knew what hit ¡®em. Blaze pulled up, giving Heitor cover as he pried open the back of the truck.

    But when the doors swung open, what they saw wasn¡¯t just the Cyberdeck.

    ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± Heitor barely had time to react as a mounted rifle aimed right at him from inside the truck. Some corpos had stayed back, manning a heavy machine gun.

    Heitor jumped just in time, but not before a few rounds grazed his arm. The rest of the truck exploded with gunfire, the HMG tearing into everything in sight. Blaze dove off his bike, watching in horror as bullets shredded it.

    ¡°My bike, you choombag!¡± Blaze shouted, scrambling for cover.

    The guard behind the HMG yelled out, furious. ¡°You¡¯re dead, motherfuckers! You picked the wrong day to mess with KanedaCorp!¡±

    Heitor scrambled behind cover, clutching his arm where the bullets had grazed him. "Blaze, if we live through this, you''re buyin'' me a drink!"

    "Yeah? Well, I¡¯ll send you a bill for my bike!" Blaze growled, popping off a few shots from behind an overturned car. The HMG chewed up the asphalt around him, sending sparks flying.

    "Vomi, we¡¯ve got a problem here!" Heitor shouted through the comms, his voice tense.

    "I see it," Vomi replied coolly, already lining up her next shot from the Rowley. She steadied Chimera, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger, only for her vision to suddenly not work, ¡°Argh! What the¡ª¡±

    Reboot Optics. That stupid quick hack just made her blind.

    One of the guards went out of the vehicle, his chrome arms flipping the car Blazer and Heitor took cover, pushing it from one side of the highway to the other. With another hand, he picked up a katana, ready to slice the two of them.

    ¡°They have a Netrunner with them! They know I am scrambling their comms!¡±, Sasha yelled, her voice frantic and unusually surprised, ¡°Fuck! Backup is on their way!¡±

    The line went silent after that.

    ¡°Ah, fuck this!¡±, Carmine revved his engine, going after the cyber guard.

    The Rowley might get hurt, but he won''t let his heistmates die. The cyber guard was about to attack when the car crashed into him, Blaze still shocked that a guy just casually threw a car. The crash was underwhelming though, as the cyber guard still stood there, although with a car trying to push him off the road. Heitor throwed a small EMP grenade at him, sparks coming out but not nearly as damaging as desired. And to make matters worse, the HMG guard came out holding the entire weapon, ready to shoot anyone who dared to move.

    The cyber guard yanked Vomi through the shattered windshield with ease, tossing her onto the ground like a ragdoll. Vomi hit the pavement hard, rolling to a stop as blood trickled down her face. She struggled to get her bearings, blinking through the pain and trying to refocus her vision.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± Blaze shouted, his voice hoarse with panic.

    She groaned, spitting blood onto the ground, then quickly regained her composure. "I''m fine," she muttered, trying to shake off the dizziness.

    The cyber guard turned his attention toward Carmine¡¯s Rowley, still lodged against him. With a grunt, he lifted the front of the car, his augmented muscles straining but managing to push the vehicle back. Carmine gunned the engine in reverse, tires screeching against the asphalt, but the HGM guard was too eager to shoot his toy.

    ¡°No, no, no!¡±, Carmine tried to find cover in the driver''s seat, the bullets making sure that his car looked like Swiss cheese.

    Heitor grabbed a shotgun off one of the dead guards and unloaded a round straight into the HMG guard. The guy¡¯s armor tanked most of it, but it still shook him. That¡¯s when the cyber samurai noticed and moved in for the kill. Blaze quickly fired off another EMP grenade from his launcher, not even pausing to watch it hit. The explosion crackled, sending sparks through the air, and the cyber samurai staggered, slowing down as electricity fried his systems.

    ¡°Keep him down, for fuck¡¯s sake!¡±, Heitor yelled.

    Blaze grinned, reloading as he kept hammering the guy with everything he had. ¡°Keep him down? No problem!¡±

    The samurai dropped to one knee, his katana slipping from his hand as the sparks took over his body.

    Meanwhile, Vomi wasn¡¯t out of the fight yet. Pushing herself off the ground, blood running down her face, she felt Vanguard stir inside her. "We¡¯re not done yet. Let us handle this," Vanguard whispered in her head.

    Her vision returned, sharper than ever, and the familiar black tendrils of Vanguard¡¯s symbiote form wrapped around her. She could feel the power rushing back into her body as her wounds quickly healed, unseen by anyone.

    ¡°Round two,¡± she muttered, her voice laced with Vanguard¡¯s influence.

    The cyber samurai, still fighting off the EMP, lunged at her, but Vomi was faster now. She slid under his strike, landed a brutal punch to his side, and sent him flying into the remains of Carmine¡¯s Rowley.

    ¡°Hey! Watch the car!¡± Carmine shouted, but his words were lost in the chaos.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Vomi didn¡¯t stop to catch her breath. She was already on the HMG guard, who was trying to line up a shot at Carmine. With a growl, she grabbed the barrel of the heavy weapon and twisted it until the metal buckled and snapped. The guard gaped as she flung the gun off the highway like it was a toy.

    ¡°You think that¡¯ll stop me?¡± the guard sneered, reaching for his sidearm.

    Before he could fire, Sasha¡¯s voice crackled through their comms. ¡°I¡¯m back in! Let me take care of this gonk.¡±

    A second later, the guard froze, his cybernetics glitching out as Sasha hit him with a quickhack. His gun slipped from his hands, and his body locked up as his eyes rolled back.

    With the guard vulnerable, Heitor limped over, shotgun in hand, and without hesitation, blasted the guy¡¯s shin off. The guard¡¯s scream was short-lived as Heitor finished him off with another brutal shot.

    He spat on the ground. ¡°That¡¯s for my arm, bitch.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s voice buzzed in again, more urgent this time. ¡°Nice shot! But hurry up! Backup¡¯s almost here. Did you grab the Cyberdeck yet?¡±

    Vomi scanned the scene. The Rowley was barely holding together, Heitor was bleeding bad, and Blaze was winded from the fight. But they were still standing.

    ¡°On it,¡± Vomi said, catching her breath. ¡°Carmine, grab the Cyberdeck and split. We¡¯ll take different routes to the rendezvous. Don¡¯t answer your Agents unless it¡¯s me. Got it?¡±

    Everyone nodded, no questions.

    ¡°I¡¯m cleaning up the Cyberspace mess. Their Netrunner¡¯s good. Don¡¯t let your guard down.¡± Sasha¡¯s focus was already deep in the digital battlefield.

    Carmine slipped into the truck, the guards now dealt with. He found the Cyberdeck sitting in a small compartment, almost on display like some kind of trophy. The deck itself was strange¡ªgooey, almost like flesh. Typical corpo weirdness, but Carmine didn¡¯t care to ask questions.

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe this tiny piece of chrome caused so much trouble,¡± he muttered, picking it up. ¡°At least I can fix my damn car now.¡±

    He fired up the Rowley, reversing it off the cyber samurai¡¯s mangled body, and peeled out, trying to shake whatever heat was still on their tail. With the Cyberdeck secured, Carmine slammed the gas, pushing the battered Rowley to its limits. The car sputtered, but it held together just enough to get him moving. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, signaling the incoming backup Sasha had warned them about.

    ¡°Alright, choombas,¡± Carmine said into his comms, ¡°splitting up now. See you at the rendezvous.¡±

    Vomi, Blaze, and Heitor quickly darted off in different directions. Vomi, still fueled by Vanguard, cut through side streets and alleys, her mind racing. The adrenaline and focus from the symbiote helped her dodge whatever pursuit was coming, but she knew they didn¡¯t have much time.

    Meanwhile, Blaze was a blur on foot, darting between buildings. His bike was toast, but his reflexes were still sharp. ¡°Damn shame about the bike,¡± he muttered, ¡°but at least we¡¯re not goners¡­ yet.¡±

    Heitor, clutching his injured arm, found a nearby alley to catch his breath. ¡°Okay, okay,¡± he breathed out, wincing. ¡°Just a few more blocks, and I¡¯m good.¡±

    Back in cyberspace, Sasha was still hard at work. The Netrunner from KanedaCorp was good, but not good enough to keep her out. ¡°Alright, you corpo bastard,¡± she muttered, fingers flying over her deck as she worked to cut off their reinforcements. ¡°Let¡¯s see how you handle this.¡±

    She hit the network hard, scrambling their comms and rerouting traffic through dummy nodes. For a few precious minutes, KanedaCorp¡¯s backup was completely disoriented, chasing false leads all over the city.

    ¡°Ive bought time.¡± Sasha announced through the comms. ¡°Get out while you can.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Easy for you to say.¡±, The Ex-Military thought.

    Heitor wasn¡¯t in the clear yet. His arm was still bleeding from the earlier gunfight, and each step sent a sharp jolt of pain through his body. He ducked into a narrow alley, pressing his back against the cold, grimy wall, breathing heavily as he clutched his arm. The wound wasn¡¯t fatal, but it was deep enough to slow him down, and in this situation, that was a death sentence.

    He could hear the distant hum of drones and the heavy thudding of boots hitting the pavement, the KanedaCorp goons sweeping the area.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He didn¡¯t have time to slow down. If they caught him out here, he was dead meat.

    Grimacing, Heitor took a deep breath and started moving again, keeping low and hugging the shadows. Every corner he rounded, every step he took felt heavier, as the blood loss started to blur his vision.

    ¡°Come on, man. You¡¯ve handled worse.¡± He reminded himself, but his body wasn¡¯t listening. His military training told him to stay calm, but right now, all he could think about was the trail of blood he was leaving behind. It wouldn¡¯t take long for the corpos to pick up on it.

    He paused behind an overturned dumpster, listening to the sounds of boots getting closer. The alleyways of San Francisco were a maze, but his head wasn¡¯t clear enough to plan his route. He needed a way out, fast, but his vision kept swimming.

    Suddenly, a searchlight from a hovering drone swept over the alley, catching the edge of his cover. He ducked down quickly, clutching his arm tighter as a fresh wave of pain hit him. He pressed himself against the wall, barely breathing as the light passed.

    ¡°They¡¯re close,¡± he whispered to himself, trying to push through the haze of pain. His thoughts raced as he scanned the alley for any way to lose his pursuers. There¡ªa narrow maintenance hatch partially hidden behind a stack of crates. It was his best shot.

    Heitor gritted his teeth and sprinted for the hatch, biting back a groan as his wounded arm throbbed with each movement. He could hear the voices of the guards now, getting louder. He slammed the hatch open and slid inside, closing it behind him just as the guards turned the corner.

    Inside, it was cramped and dark, a labyrinth of old pipes and service tunnels. He crouched low, leaning against a wall and catching his breath, his vision starting to fade. ¡°Not here. Not now.¡± He needed to stop the bleeding, but he didn¡¯t have time for that.

    The sound of boots running past the hatch sent a jolt of relief through him, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°Sasha¡¯s bought us time, but not much.¡±

    With his good hand, he pulled out his comm and called in quietly. ¡°Blaze¡­ you alive?¡±

    ¡°Barely,¡± Blaze replied through heavy breaths. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°Same. Looking for a stim here.¡±

    Thankfully this neighborhood had a lot of ripperdocs, meaning that he could solve his bleeding problem.

    ¡°Don''t die on us.¡±, Vomi said from her end, wind being recorded in the background, odd, but whatever, ¡°Get yourself a rest if you need it. Don''t rush.¡±

    Heitor smiled weakly, tucking the comm away and pushing forward through the tunnel, ¡°Don''t worry. I don''t plan on flatlining.¡±

    There was a small store, obviously a facade for black market stuff, but there would be a stimulant there, even if it is a syringe. Reaching the small store tucked away in a forgotten corner of the district, he pressed the buzzer. The ripperdoc¡¯s assistant gave him a knowing look as he entered, his arm clearly in bad shape.

    ¡°I need a stim,¡± Heitor said, voice strained. ¡°Quick.¡±

    The assistant didn¡¯t ask questions, handing over a small syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid. Heitor jabbed it into his arm without hesitation, feeling the warmth spread through his body as the bleeding slowed and his energy started to come back.

    ¡°Better,¡± he muttered, flexing his hand.

    Now it was just a matter of regrouping.

    <hr>

    ¡°Ive bought time.¡± Sasha announced through the comms. ¡°Get out while you can.¡±

    For Carmine, it was bad. His car screamed that he just partook in some shady biz, so despite how much it pained him to leave his babe behind, the Quadra Rowley couldn''t make it to the end. They did steal the deck, but nothing went according to plan. Well, almost nothing. What happened back there? That was preem, but something just sent him shivers and not the good kind.

    Vomi, the fixer of the corpos.

    He always felt something weird about the woman. She had this¡­ air of dangerousness around her, a sickening suspicion that something just seemed off about her, but after seeing her punch a Borg samurai guard with her bare fucking hands, sending the gonk to his car, that was something else, a new sense of cautiousness altogether. The fact she didn''t use that strength from the start was weird, because Carmine for sure was going to if he had it. Whatever chrome she has, whatever booster she uses, it is good. Too good.

    But for now, that''s not his main problem. He needs to pick up the cyberdeck and deliver it to the drop point. But the constant threat of KanedaCorp looking for his car keeps him from actually completing this task.

    ¡°Fuck me.¡±, He muttered, parking the Rowley on a parking lot, picking up the box and walking off.

    He needs another car, any one so he can just blend in. Maybe take a bus? No corpo would look in a bus, right?

    Right?

    Before Carmine could consider the idea, KanedaCorp''s guards were asking people (or rather, demanding with a gun pointed at their heads) about the robbery on the highway. And there was a bus stop right there, so Carmine put two and two together and just entered the bus as soon as it stopped.

    Carmine sat in the back of the bus, clutching the box containing the Cyberdeck tightly under his arm. He glanced around nervously, watching for any sign of the KanedaCorp goons. The passengers on the bus were a mix of exhausted workers, disinterested tourists, and a few shady characters just trying to keep a low profile. He was banking on blending in with the crowd, hoping they¡¯d overlook a guy riding public transit. He let out a long breath, trying to relax.

    ¡°Just a bus ride and a drop-off,¡± he reminded himself.

    But the tension in his muscles didn¡¯t let up. His mind kept drifting back to Vomi. She didn¡¯t just have boosters or chrome, that much was clear now. No normal corpo fixer could take down a fully augmented cyber samurai with a single punch. Something about her screamed danger, and it wasn¡¯t just her skills. There was more going on with Vomi than anyone let on.

    As the bus rumbled through the neon-lit streets, Carmine kept a low profile, eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the street. His car would get tagged sooner or later. KanedaCorp had drones and boots on the ground, and they weren¡¯t the type to let something like this go without a fight.

    <hr>

    ¡°I think that''s all I can do for now.¡±, Sasha said as she removed the cord from her neck, finishing up the dive at the net.

    From the looks of it, only Vomi and Blaze got out safely, but nothing Carmine and Heitor can''t handle.

    The Icebath made her all tingly, but it was always an experience to leave the water. She immediately went to the shower, turning on the hot water so her body temperature was normal again. Sasha''s mind was finally at ease as the heist was successful, kinda, but still. As Sasha let the hot water stream over her, she allowed herself a brief moment of relaxation. The job had gone sideways, but they had the Cyberdeck, and that was all that mattered. She knew Carmine and Heitor were still out there, trying to avoid capture, but the heat she¡¯d bought them would only last so long. The water couldn''t wash away the tension entirely, but it helped clear her mind.

    She stretched, dried herself and dressed in her usual clothes. Eddies were coming on her way and the valuable knowledge of how corpos work was something she couldn''t help but feel grateful for. It was a minor insight, but an insight still it was, as corny as it is to think this way. She picked up some snacks and a cup of coffee before leaving her apartment going to the place Graves agreed they''d reunite. As soon as she stepped out the door, Vomi called her. Or rather, send a text:

    ¡°I''m gonna be late for dinner. C-YA.¡±

    Sasha pouted at the message, sending just an ¡°okay-nya!¡± back.

    Guess it''s just the crew without the fixer, then.

    <hr>

    At the diner, Carmine took a seat at the counter, pretending to peruse the menu while he kept an eye on the entrance. He could feel the weight of the cyberdeck under his jacket, the ticking time bomb that it was. The sooner he handed it off, the better. But something still nagged at him¡ªthe image of Vomi, her sheer power against that cyber samurai.

    He flagged down the waitress, ordering a drink to blend in while he waited for the contact.

    ¡°Where the hell are you guys?¡± he muttered under his breath, checking the time. Every minute that passed felt like another chance for KanedaCorp to catch up. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the drop wasn¡¯t going to be as smooth as planned.

    Blaze was the first to arrive, immediately spotting Carmine. He took a seat in front of him and also pretended to do some small talk on his agent before ordering some food for himself. Sasha arrived at the same time as Heitor, and they first sat in a nearby booth before eventually joining in, ¡°recognizing¡± Carmine and discussing his probation. Some more small talk here and there and eventually all of them believed their own lie that they were just casually meeting at this random diner at this specific point in time.

    Carmine felt a wave of relief wash over him as Blaze, Sasha, and Heitor finally joined him at the counter. The facade of casual chatter helped ease the tension in his shoulders, but he remained acutely aware of the threat that still loomed outside.

    ¡°Did anyone see you?¡± Heitor asked, keeping his voice low as he settled into a seat. The bandage wrapped around his arm peeked out from under his sleeve, a stark reminder of the chaos they¡¯d just escaped.

    ¡°No one followed me, but the streets are crawling with KanedaCorp,¡± Carmine replied, taking a sip of his drink. The bitter taste of coffee grounded him. ¡°We need to make this drop and get out.¡±

    Sasha leaned in, her eyes darting between the others. ¡°I managed to throw off their signals for a while, but they¡¯re not idiots. They¡¯ll be back on our trail soon.¡± She glanced at Heitor¡¯s arm, concern creasing her brow. ¡°You good?¡±

    Heitor nodded, though the wince on his face betrayed him. ¡°Just a scratch. The stim helped, but I¡¯ll need to get it properly looked at soon.¡±

    ¡°Better than being dead,¡± Blaze chimed in, a smirk on his face, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°Besides, you should see the other guy. Or maybe you shouldn¡¯t. Either way, we got the deck. That¡¯s what matters.¡±

    ¡°True enough,¡± Carmine agreed, though unease nagged at him. ¡°We still need to hand it off without attracting attention. Graves should be here any minute.¡±

    As if on cue, the bell above the diner door jingled, and a tall figure stepped inside, scanning the room. Graves, this time not wearing a fancy suit, but a more casual one, still very corpo-like, approached their booth, his expression unreadable behind dark glasses.

    ¡°Carmine.¡± He nodded curtly, his voice low and gravelly. ¡°Dr. Kurosaki is missing, but no matter. You got the package?¡±

    Carmine shifted in his seat, sliding the box containing the Cyberdeck onto the table. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick. I don¡¯t want to linger.¡±

    Graves¡¯ brow raised slightly as he inspected the box, but he didn¡¯t comment. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the group. ¡°You lot have been busy. Heard some noise about KanedaCorp breathing down your neck.¡±

    ¡°Just a typical night in the life,¡± Sasha said, forcing a casual tone. ¡°What¡¯s the deal? The show is to be expected when going up against them.¡±

    Graves straightened, producing a sleek device from his jacket pocket. ¡°You get your payment in this. A clean transfer, no trace. Just plug it into your agent, and you¡¯re free to go.¡± He slid the shard across the table.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the catch?¡± Carmine asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. He was no rookie; nothing in this world came without strings attached.

    ¡°No catch. Just a warning,¡± Graves replied, removing his glasses and revealing cold, calculating eyes. ¡°You need to lay low. KanedaCorp won¡¯t forget about this. They¡¯ll be digging into your pasts soon. No matter how good you think you are at hiding.¡±

    Heitor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ¡°We can handle ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Sure you can,¡± Graves countered, a hint of amusement in his tone. ¡°But I¡¯d recommend you do it out of their sight. You¡¯ve drawn attention. More than you know.¡±

    Carmine shot a look at the others, then back to Graves. ¡°Thanks for the advice, but we didn¡¯t come here to chat.¡±

    Graves leaned forward, his tone turning serious. ¡°Fine. But remember this: the city has eyes everywhere. Don¡¯t underestimate what KanedaCorp can do. If they come for you, you won¡¯t see it coming.¡±

    With that, he left with the package. Sasha was the first to jack the shard, humming as the numbers in her eyes just went up, ¡°Wow, that''s¡­ a lot.¡±

    The others put the shards on their necks as well, similar reactions giving the hint that it was ok for Carmine to take it himself. And indeed, eddies went up, no catch as far as he could tell. Carmine exhaled, the weight of the deck lifting slightly off his shoulders. He turned to the others, feeling the heaviness in the air.

    ¡°Well, that was fun,¡± Blaze said dryly, raising his glass in mock toast. ¡°Cheers to keeping our heads.¡±

    ¡°We need to move,¡± Heitor replied, glancing out the window. ¡°We can¡¯t stick around here any longer. I don''t want to bring up heat to The Refused. We might have compromised our band¡¯s gig.¡±

    Sasha nodded, her eyes focused. ¡°Agreed, but relax a little. No one will connect a group of rockerboys to corpos.¡±

    ¡°See? Even Sasha agrees.¡±, Blaze raised his drink, ¡°To a successful gig.¡±

    ¡°Eh, why not?¡±, Sasha raised her own soda can.

    ¡°Fine, I guess.¡±, Heitor followed their lead.

    Carmine wasn''t as enthusiast as the others, lifting his coffee, although begrudgingly. With a good gulp of their respective drinks, they started chatting a bit more before Blaze eventually asked what Carmine wanted to ask.

    ¡°Where''s Vomi? Wasn''t she supposed to be here?¡±

    Sasha blinked, ¡°Oh yeah, she said she wasn''t going to make it. But I think she is safe.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think that? As far as I can tell, the boss could be flatlined.¡±, Carmine commented, head low, still thinking about the entire heist.

    ¡°Vomi? Flatlined? No, she is too nova for that.¡±, Blaze laughed at the audacity.

    Sasha snorted, her knowledge of the symbiote cat was hidden from them, but it still showed up, ¡°No worries. Corpo Kitty is safe and sound.¡±

    ¡°She''s like that. Soft on the outside and a beast on the inside.¡±, Heitor said as he munched some food, ¡°She wrote the most brutal song I''ve heard in life. And she didn''t even know how to play guitar last month.¡±

    ¡°Vomi is like that, weird, but preem.¡±, Blaze said sagely, his chrome arms shining at the diner''s light.

    ¡°Vomi is a whole vibe,¡± Sasha agreed, a small smile creeping onto her lips. ¡°But seriously, she¡¯s tough as nails. You saw her handle that samurai. She¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Carmine nodded, but unease still gnawed at him. ¡°Yeah, but something feels off. She has that look in her eyes sometimes, you know? Like she¡¯s got more going on than we realize.¡±

    She does have those weird black-red eyes¡­

    ¡°Maybe she does,¡± Heitor said, shrugging. ¡°But that¡¯s her business. We¡¯ve got enough on our plates without overthinking what our fixer might be hiding.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Blaze replied, shaking his head. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on the here and now. We¡¯ve got a gig to prepare for, and a little time to kill before we hit the stage.¡±

    ¡°Well, I will be coming back from vacation though.¡±, Sasha got up from her seat, ¡°I need to take the road.¡±

    ¡°Where to?¡±, Blaze asked as he finished up his bottle.

    ¡°Night City. I have biz to settle there.¡±, She said with fierce determination, something rather unusual from the Cat Netrunner.

    ¡°Whatever it is, good luck. You will need it.¡±, Heitor offered.

    ¡°I need to delta too. I will probably be investigated, probation and all.¡±, Carmine sighed, today was a tiring day.

    ¡°Yeah, same here,¡± Blaze chimed in, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Gotta keep my head down until the heat dies off. Not looking to have KanedaCorp knocking on my door.¡±

    Sasha finished off her soda and pushed her chair back. ¡°You guys should take it easy. I¡¯ll be moving to Night City for a bit, but I¡¯ll check in. You know, keep the lines open.¡± She gave a slight grin, knowing how much everyone hated dealing with corpo business.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that,¡± Heitor replied, glancing at the entrance one last time. ¡°But with the way things are going, I¡¯m not counting on it.¡±

    Carmine sighed, pushing his coffee cup away. ¡°I just want a break. We pulled off a decent score, but I feel like we¡¯re in the crosshairs now.¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Blaze said, leaning in, his tone turning serious. ¡°We¡¯re still alive, right? That¡¯s something to celebrate. We¡¯ve got this gig coming up, and it¡¯s gonna be a blast. Just keep your head in the game.¡±

    The conversation shifted to lighter topics as Sasha and Carmine left. It was a good day, a tiring one, but good nonetheless.

    ¡°Now now,¡± Blaze started after paying the bill, ¡°Let''s go back to the shop. We now have the eddies to refurbish it.¡±

    ¡°Aren''t we like, planning on the band?¡±, Heitor questioned with a raised brow.

    ¡°Yes, but I want an actual studio to rehearse, not that warehouse we go every day off we have.¡±, Blaze countered.

    ¡°You do have an excellent point.¡±, He agreed, although not because he was happy, but because it made sense.

    ¡°Then, let''s get to it! I''ll contact the others.¡±, Blaze beamed up, already sending texts.

    ¡°Just remind yourself that we want to lay low.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°That means no spending the money until I say so.¡±

    Blaze looked at him, dumbfounded, ¡°Whaaaaat?¡±

    Heitor just smirked.

 Chapter 20: Humanity

    Today was a bad day.

    Vomi didn''t show it, but the strain in her mind was growing dangerously close to snapping. Ever since merging with the primal red symbiote, her decisions had to be second-guessed, sometimes more. She refused to show how much it drained her, even to Vanguard, who still didn''t know the full extent of what was happening, despite being part of her. But the primal red symbiote had an unrelenting hunger for blood. When Vomi was wounded during the Reboot Optics incident, she had come dangerously close to unleashing carnage without restraint. She was thankful no one questioned why she insisted on splitting up after the heist. It gave her time to find a way to feed the red''s thirst for blood.

    And there were plenty of gang hideouts waiting to be raided, if HustleNet was anything to go by.

    She targeted one near a defunct park. A small, two-story building, sparsely guarded, with almost no civilians around to witness the bloodbath. Perfect. She allowed the red tendrils to unfurl from her body, Vanguard unnervingly silent this time, simply watching as the red symbiotic suit enveloped her. The spider emblem reappeared, black and red intertwined across her figure.

    Two guards stood outside. Their affiliation didn''t matter. The mission was to clear the place of hostiles-by any means necessary.

    She shot her tendrils toward the entrance, her silhouette momentarily glowing against the night sky. The guards were lost in a conversation about some football match. English or American? Didn''t matter. One swift tendril wrapped around the legs of the nearest guard and smashed his skull into the pavement, a burst of crimson staining the concrete. The second guard staggered back, terror widening his eyes at the sudden violence. Vomi locked onto him, the symbiotic eyes narrowing with hunger. She lunged, her fist colliding with his jaw so hard it mangled half his face. He was still alive as his body crumpled to the ground, weakly crawling away in a futile attempt to escape.

    One stomp on his ribcage ended that.

    "The sound was more metallic than flesh. Synth lungs?" Her distorted voice mused, uninterested. "Doesn''t matter."

    Turning toward the building, Vomi felt the tendrils writhing in anticipation, coiling and flexing around her as if waiting for permission to unleash chaos.

    "Listen," she called out. The tendrils stilled, almost as if each one were a separate entity. "If you want to kill so badly, there are plenty inside who can satisfy that urge. But I''m in control. Not you."

    The warning was sharp, a clear threat. The tendrils gave no visible reaction, but they seemed to pause in acknowledgment. Maybe the red symbiote was paying attention.

    "I control my life. Don''t make this harder for me. If you''re that hungry for blood, ask. Don''t try to take over." She approached the front door, her tone steely. "Or you''ll end up consumed instead of integrated."

    Vanguard, still silent, felt an odd emotion stirring. Pity? Sympathy? It was hard for him to tell, but it was something close.

    The primal red symbiote shifted forward, indicating it had heard her. Reading social cues from an alien red goo was always difficult, but it seemed to understand.

    "For now... let''s cut loose." She kicked the door, sending it flying across the room.

    Behind it, the gangsters had already drawn their weapons, aimed right at her.

    Not that it mattered.

    The moment the door crashed into the room, the gang members inside scrambled to react, but it was too late. Vomi''s reflexes, heightened by the symbiote, made their attempts at defense seem sluggish, almost pitiful.

    Before they could even pull their triggers, she was already upon them. The red tendrils shot forward like snakes, one wrapping around the nearest gangster''s neck, yanking him forward and slamming him into the ground with enough force to splatter blood across the walls. His body twitched once, then went limp. The others screamed and opened fire, but the bullets either ricocheted off the symbiote''s armor or were dodged with ease.

    Vomi leapt into the fray, her movements fluid, almost graceful in their brutality. She grabbed the barrel of a gun, melting the metal in her grip as she drove her other fist into the shooter''s chest, feeling his ribcage collapse under the impact. Blood sprayed across her suit, feeding the red''s thirst. Another gangster charged at her with a knife, but a tendril speared him through the stomach, lifting him off the ground as he gagged on his own blood.

    The room was quickly painted in red, and Vomi''s distorted voice echoed in the chaos. "Is that it? Come on, don''t make this boring.¡±

    The last two gang members, seeing their comrades butchered in seconds, backed away in terror. One dropped his weapon and bolted for the back door, but Vomi was faster. She zipped across the room, her tendrils grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall. His eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe, but Vomi''s grip was ironclad.

    "I wonder..." she mused, tilting her head as she observed him struggling for life. "Do you beg for mercy, or do you think you''ll make it out alive?"

    The man choked, his voice barely a whisper. "Please... no..."

    Vomi''s lips twisted into a smirk, though her eyes remained cold. "Wrong answer.¡±

    She crushed his windpipe with a casual squeeze, letting his lifeless body drop to the floor. The last gangster was shaking uncontrollably, pinned in the corner, barely able to hold his weapon. His voice was trembling as he pleaded, "I-I don''t want to die..."

    Vomi walked toward him, her tendrils coiling around her like a living storm. "Then why''d you join up with scum like this? You knew what kind of life you were signing up for."

    The man sobbed, shaking his head. "I-I didn''t-"

    "Shhh," Vomi hushed him, crouching down so she was eye level with him. Her voice softened, but it was no less menacing. "This isn''t about you. It''s about me.¡±

    In one swift motion, her tendrils lashed out, severing the man''s head from his body, leaving the room in utter silence. Blood pooled at her feet, and for a brief moment, the red symbiote pulsed with satisfaction. Its hunger was sated-at least for now.

    Vomi stood there, breathing deeply, letting the tension in her muscles slowly ease. The primal symbiote retreated, tendrils retracting back into her body as her regular form returned. But the weight of the carnage still lingered.

    "Vanguard?" she called out softly, unsure if he''d still remain silent after what he had witnessed.

    For a long moment, there was no response. Then, finally, Vanguard''s voice came through, calm but layered with something deeper.

    "You''re walking a dangerous path, Vomi."

    She sighed, her hands still stained with blood. "I know."

    "And yet... you didn''t let it fully take over. Not yet, anyway."

    "I''m trying," she whispered, closing her eyes. "But it''s getting harder every time.¡±

    Vanguard was quiet again, though this time, there was no judgment in his silence. Just... understanding.

    Vomi exhaled slowly and stepped over the bodies, heading for the exit. The gang hideout had served its purpose. For now, the primal red symbiote was quiet. But another thing was in her mind as well.

    ¡°I don''t feel bothered by this.¡±, She gestured to the room, full of dead people, ¡°Killing was such a dogma in my past life. I thought I would be unable to do it. But I can do it easily.¡±

    ¡°So you are bothered by your lack of bother?¡±, Vanguard mused internally, unsure of what that meant exactly.

    ¡°Yes. I¡­ I feel like I am less human as time goes by. It isn''t the effect of this world. This is more¡­ me.¡±

    Vomi sighed at her new predicament. A new dilemma. Being this powerful and strong can be good, no doubt. But at what cost? Her humanity? Was she human to begin with? Or even Dr. Vomi was like this before and this is just how she thinked?

    Vomi lingered in the doorway, staring out into the cold, dark night. The blood, the carnage¡ªit had been too easy, too natural. That bothered her more than the violence itself. She wasn¡¯t numb to it; she was aware of what she was doing, but there was no remorse, no hesitation.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose myself,¡± she said quietly, almost as if confessing a secret.

    Vanguard, ever-present within her mind, didn¡¯t respond immediately. When he did, his tone was thoughtful. ¡°Power changes people. You have more power now than most could ever dream of. It¡¯s bound to shift something inside.¡±

    ¡°Shift what, though? My morality? My sense of self?¡± She scoffed bitterly. ¡°Maybe I was always this way¡ªviolent, detached. And now I just have the means to express it without fear.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s silence spoke volumes. Vomi knew he was processing her words, searching for the right response. He had always been there, a part of her consciousness since their integration, but even now, she wasn¡¯t sure how much of him was her and how much was something else entirely. Was his silence his own choice, or did he simply mirror her confusion?

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Vanguard finally said, ¡°it¡¯s not about being less human, but about accepting that you are evolving into something different. Not necessarily worse, just¡­ different.¡±

    Vomi frowned, stepping out into the night. The cold air did little to soothe the heat of the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to lose who I was.¡±

    ¡°Who were you, though?¡± Vanguard¡¯s question cut through her spiraling thoughts. ¡°You¡¯ve been reborn in more ways than one. Your old self, Dr. Vomi, lived in a different reality, had different rules. Are you still holding on to that identity?¡±

    Indeed. Who was her? Was she the doctor that created and self applied this symbiote with no regards for consequences as long as it worked? Was she this new weird person who happened to make part of a band and also be a corporate merc? Or was she the person before reincarnated in this weird and surreal dystopian world?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The admission came softly, but it carried the weight of truth. ¡°I¡¯m trying to hold on to something, anything, that reminds me I¡¯m still me. But I feel like the further I go, the less of that old self remains.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot,¡± Vanguard reasoned, though there was an odd edge to his voice, a note of something unspoken. ¡°But just because you¡¯ve changed doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve lost everything.¡±

    Vomi let his words sink in as she walked away from the hideout, her boots leaving tracks in the blood-soaked dirt. Maybe Vanguard was right. Maybe it wasn¡¯t about losing herself, but about coming to terms with who she was now¡ªwhatever that was.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    As they moved through the quiet streets, Vomi noticed how the primal red symbiote had settled. For now, it was satisfied, but its hunger would return. She could feel it pulsing beneath her skin, waiting for the next opportunity to strike. The primal wasn¡¯t something she could easily control; it demanded blood, violence, and chaos. But for now, at least, it was silent.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s inevitable?¡± she asked, more to herself than Vanguard. ¡°That I¡¯ll lose control completely?¡±

    There was a pause before Vanguard responded, his voice low. ¡°It¡¯s up to you how far you let it take you. You¡¯ve held on this long.¡±

    Vomi clenched her fists, the blood drying on her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t let it win. If I lose control, if it takes over¡­ what¡¯s left of me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re stronger than you think,¡± Vanguard assured her. ¡°But strength alone won¡¯t keep you grounded. You¡¯ll need more than just willpower to maintain control.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Vomi snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. ¡°I¡¯ve already merged with it. It¡¯s a part of me. What else can I do?¡±

    Vanguard didn¡¯t have an answer for her, and she knew it. They were in uncharted territory¡ªboth of them. The symbiote, the power, her changing identity¡ªit was all a tangled mess, and there were no easy solutions.

    But one thing was clear: she couldn¡¯t keep going like this forever. Something would have to give, eventually.

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving up,¡± Vomi whispered to herself, more a promise than a statement. ¡°I won¡¯t lose myself. Not to this. Not to anything.¡±

    As she walked further into the city, the lights casting long shadows in the streets, the primal red stirred again, faintly, as if in response to her words. A doubt still lingered though.

    ¡°Can I even call myself human?¡±

    The question echoed in Vomi''s mind as she walked, the city humming around her. The towering buildings, the neon lights, the distant sounds of people living their lives¡ªit all felt distant, disconnected from the turmoil churning inside her. Could she still consider herself human? The line between who she was and what she had become seemed to blur more with every step.

    The primal red stirred again, faint but persistent, as if it, too, questioned her resolve.

    Vanguard remained silent, but Vomi could feel his presence. He wasn¡¯t judging her, nor was he offering comfort this time. Instead, it was as if he, too, was waiting¡ªwaiting for her to come to terms with the reality she now faced. Whatever that reality was.

    She looked at her hands, still stained with blood, though most of it wasn¡¯t her own. The symbiote pulsed beneath her skin, a constant reminder of the power she now wielded. Power that, at times, felt more like a curse. Was this what it meant to evolve beyond humanity? To become something stronger, more capable, but less connected to the people and world around her?

    ¡°I still bleed,¡± she muttered, staring at the dried blood on her fingers. ¡°I still feel pain.¡±

    Vanguard''s voice finally broke the silence, quiet but steady. ¡°Humanity isn''t just about flesh and blood. It¡¯s about choices. Morality. The lines you draw for yourself, and whether you choose to cross them.¡±

    Vomi frowned, her pace slowing. ¡°And I crossed that line tonight, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°You killed because you needed to,¡± Vanguard said, not unkindly. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve lost your humanity. The fact that you¡¯re questioning it means it¡¯s still there.¡±

    ¡°But what if the next time, I don¡¯t question it?¡± Vomi¡¯s voice was soft, almost afraid of the answer. ¡°What if I start enjoying it?¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s response came after a long pause. ¡°Then you¡¯ll have a choice to make. And that¡¯s the point, isn¡¯t it? You still have that choice.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed as she continued walking, her boots echoing on the empty street. The primal red simmered beneath the surface, but it was calmer now, sated for the moment. Vanguard¡¯s words offered little comfort, but there was truth in them. As long as she could still question, as long as she still cared about the choices she made, there was something left of her humanity.

    But the question gnawed at her, refusing to be silenced: How long could she hold on to it?

    The red symbiote, though temporarily quiet, was a constant presence, always there, always waiting for its moment to take over. Vomi couldn¡¯t ignore the pull it had on her¡ªthe craving for violence, for bloodshed. She could justify it now, say it was necessary for survival. But there was a part of her that feared the day it would no longer be about survival, but about desire. About the thrill of the hunt.

    And then what? What would she be if that happened? A monster? A weapon? Something far worse?

    As she turned a corner, the city opened up in front of her¡ªbuzzing with life, indifferent to the battle raging within her. Vomi knew that somewhere out there, more enemies awaited. More fights, more bloodshed. And with each encounter, the primal red would demand more, pushing her closer to that line she was so desperately trying to hold on to.

    But for now, she still had control. For now, she was still Vomi. Whatever that meant.

    She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within her. ¡°I can¡¯t stop fighting,¡± she whispered, the words more to herself than to Vanguard. ¡°But I have to find a way to stay¡­ me.¡±

    Vanguard''s voice was softer now, almost reassuring. ¡°And you will. As long as you keep asking yourself that question.¡±

    Vomi nodded, though uncertainty still gripped her. The path ahead wasn¡¯t clear, but it was the only one she had. For now, she had to keep walking, keep fighting, and hope that in the end, there was something left of the man she once was.

    ¡°Living on a prayer.¡±, She muttered.

    Wait¡­

    ¡°Living on a prayer?¡±, Vomi repeated, ¡°Oh, I have an idea.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like it came just in time too.¡±, Vanguard said amusingly, ¡°What are you on now?¡±

    ¡°Before I even say it,¡± Vomi looked at herself again, ¡°Bath.¡±

    ¡°Bath.¡±, Vanguard agreed.

    The red tendrils appeared suddenly and nodded, before going back.

    ¡°Even the bloodlusted monster agrees.¡±, Vomi deadpanned, ¡°Fine. I''ll call the Colby and head to my apartment.¡±

    As she called the car with her agent, a text came through. Sasha, saying that she was going to Night City. That was expected, but not so soon. Maybe Vomi could make her survive the BioTechnica and Militech stuff? But she needs to settle things with M-Tech and the Black Daggers. Ugh, sometimes having too much responsibility is a bother.

    Vomi sat back in her seat as the Colby whirred to life, her mind spinning with thoughts of Sasha and the ever-growing pile of responsibilities she couldn''t avoid. Helping Sasha navigate the dangers of Night City would take more than luck¡ªBioTechnica and Militech weren¡¯t the kind of enemies you could just punch your way through. But that''s for other time.

    ¡°Feels like I¡¯m already juggling too much,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°But you¡¯re still juggling,¡± Vanguard''s voice chimed in. ¡°That¡¯s what counts.¡±

    She exhaled, watching the city lights blur past the window. The weight of her new existence was pressing harder, but she couldn¡¯t afford to drop anything. Not now. Not when everything felt like it was on the verge of collapsing.

    At least, for tonight, there was the promise of a quiet bath and a new song. Maybe that would clear her head.

    <hr>

    ¡°We''ll make I swear!¡±

    Vomi took the quickest bath in her life. Well, second. Simply because the song was banging to leave her head, she even hummed it on the way to the apartment, ignoring the onlookers who could see the blood in her. She was barely dressed as well, just the underwear and a jacket on top of it as she picked up the guitar and just jammed with her sole instrument.

    Not gonna lie, Bon Jovi has good songs.

    Vomi strummed the chords, letting the rhythm guide her. Her fingers moved instinctively across the guitar, syncing with the melody in her mind. The riff was raw, a blend of the classic Bon Jovi hit mixed with the heavy aggression that had built up inside her.

    The red symbiote stirred faintly as if listening, feeding off her energy but not interrupting. It was a rare moment of peace between them, a mutual understanding that this was her time to let it out, in a different way.

    ¡°Living on a prayer...¡± she hummed under her breath, tweaking the tempo, adding a rougher edge. The sound filled her apartment, each note vibrating through her body, reminding her of what music used to mean to her¡ªbefore everything changed, before power and blood.

    But for now, the song was enough.

    She paused mid-riff, a thought crossing her mind. ¡°Maybe the guys would like this one. Could be our next track.¡±

    ¡°Only if you keep your clothes on this time during rehearsals,¡± Vanguard teased.

    Vomi smirked, not even caring about the jab. For once, the weight felt a little lighter.

    That didn''t stop her from flipping him off though.

    ¡°How eloquent.¡± The cat said as he picked his spot on the bed, ¡°Oh, and what name we will give to our companion now that he is more¡­ present.¡±

    Vomi blinked, ¡°I dunno.¡±, She shrugged, ¡°I call him a lot of things. But naming it now out of the blue¡­¡±

    The tendrils fully left her body, the red goo forming as a ball of jumbled mess in the floor.

    ¡°He doesn''t have full control of his shape.¡±, Vanguard commented as his fur was now full black again.

    Maybe it became reddish thanks to the red symbiote? But now that he left it was all black again?

    The same happened to Vomi''s clothes too. The jacket once a classic brown became a black void.

    Vomi knelt down, checking out the shifting mass of red tendrils on the floor. It was pulsing and writhing like it was alive, kinda freaky but also fascinating. ¡°It''s kind of mesmerizing, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said, half to herself.

    Vanguard flicked his tail, watching the whole transformation go down. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s mesmerizing and a bit unsettling. But it¡¯s part of you now, and it looks like it wants to say something. Why not let it?¡±

    She let out a sigh, feeling the pressure of the decision weighing on her. ¡°You¡¯re right. But what do I call it? ¡®It¡¯ just feels too... impersonal.¡±

    ¡°Think of it like a reflection of yourself,¡± Vanguard suggested, sounding all wise and stuff. ¡°Something that shows where you¡¯re at. Powerful, wild, maybe even a little chaotic?¡±

    Vomi thought about it for a sec, then shot back, ¡°How about ¡®Animus¡¯?¡± It felt right¡ªlike it had that edge and unpredictability she was digging.

    ¡°Animus? Sounds like a bit of inexplicable rage in there,¡± Vanguard said, his ears perking up. ¡°Yeah, Animus fits. Perfectly.¡±

    As if it heard its new name, the red tendrils started to morph into a more defined shape, smooth edges forming with little spiky bits popping out.

    ¡°See? He likes it,¡± Vanguard purred, clearly pleased.

    Vomi grinned, feeling a rush of ownership for the first time. ¡°Animus, huh? I can vibe with that.¡±

    She picked up her guitar again and had a thought. ¡°You know, maybe this could be our sound. A little animus energy, a little chaos.¡± She strummed some chords, letting the vibe shift in the air.

    Vanguard flopped down more comfortably, looking satisfied. ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it. Just let the music flow; it could lead you somewhere good.¡±

    With every chord she played, Vomi felt a little lighter, like she was shaking off the weight of the day. She started weaving Animus into her music, letting that chaotic energy guide her fingers. The apartment filled with the sound of her creation, an anthem of defiance against the shadows creeping in.

    As she jammed, her jacket morphed back to brown, and even Vanguard''s fur shifted to a preem blackish-red combo.

    ¡°Master of Puppets,¡± she muttered, a grin creeping onto her face.

    And then it all kicked off¡ªa glorious noise filled the room. The song wasn¡¯t quiet at all, especially since Vomi was trying to play it from memory. It was loud, messy, and absolutely exhilarating.

    Vomi got lost in the rhythm, her fingers flying over the strings, but then¡ªbam! She hit a clunker, the notes screeching in a way that made her wince. ¡°Ugh, damn it!¡± she shouted, shaking her head. ¡°I thought I had this!¡±

    Vanguard chuckled, tail flicking playfully. ¡°Well, you can¡¯t expect to master it on the first try. Even the best mess up sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but this is my jam!¡± Vomi shot back, rolling her eyes. She took a breath, trying to refocus. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try this again.¡±

    She started over, but her fingers fumbled through the intro again. A couple of more wrong notes slipped out, and she felt herself getting frustrated. ¡°Why can¡¯t I just nail it? It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t heard this a million times!¡±

    ¡°Maybe because you¡¯re too focused on perfection,¡± Vanguard replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. ¡°Let it be messy! That¡¯s part of the energy.¡±

    Vomi sighed, but then she couldn¡¯t help but smirk. ¡°You know, you might have a point.¡± She strummed a few power chords, letting her frustration fuel the chaotic energy of the song.

    ¡°Forget the mistakes. Let¡¯s make some noise!¡± she shouted, and launched back into it with renewed fervor.

    This time, she embraced the chaos, purposefully playing the wrong notes, mixing them up in an almost playful way. It felt liberating, like she was breaking free from the need to be perfect. She even laughed at a particularly bad chord that sounded like a cat getting stepped on.

    Vanguard¡¯s ears perked up. ¡°Now you¡¯re onto something! It¡¯s not just about hitting the right notes; it¡¯s about the vibe you¡¯re creating!¡±

    Vomi grinned, feeling the rush of the music course through her. ¡°Alright, Animus! Let¡¯s turn this into our own thing!¡± She let loose, blending her mistakes into a wild, energetic sound that filled the apartment.

    The chaos was a release, and she felt alive. It didn¡¯t matter that she was messing up; what mattered was that she was making music¡ªher music. The walls shook with the power of her creation, and for that moment, everything else faded away.

    ¡°Now this is more like it!¡± she yelled, laughing as she launched into another riff, completely letting go of her worries and just enjoying the moment.

    ¡°Shut up with the guitar, fucking bozo!¡±

    Vomi blinked at the sudden yell, ¡°What?¡±

    Oh yeah, she lives in a back end apartment. Of course there isn''t a way to isolate the noise.

    ¡°Sorry!¡±, She yelled back, hoping it was enough.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off!¡±

    Vanguard chuckled, ¡°Well, that''s unexpected.¡±

    ¡°That just means I need to rehearse more. I want to play the songs of my past life. Some of them are really good.¡±, Vomi commented as she put the guitar in its place, Animus merging back together within her.

    ¡°Yeah, just maybe at a more reasonable hour,¡± Vanguard teased, flicking his tail as he hopped off the bed.

    Vomi shrugged. ¡°Fair point.¡± She stretched, feeling the fatigue finally start to hit. Between the heist, the gang hideout, and this impromptu jam session, her body was ready to crash.

    ¡°Animus, you good?¡± she muttered as the red tendrils settled into her skin. No response, just a faint hum of contentment. That was good enough for now.

    She flicked off the lights and flopped onto the bed, her jacket still halfway on, too tired to even bother getting fully under the covers. Vanguard curled up beside her, a soft purring sound filling the silence.

    "Thanks, Vang.", Vomi said suddenly, "I needed this."

    Vanguard paused, looked at her and smirked, "Depression is overrated."

    "Pfft! That''s my line.", She replied groggily.

    As her eyes closed, Vomi¡¯s mind drifted back to Sasha, to Night City, to the weight of everything she was juggling. It was overwhelming, but for once, she felt like she could breathe. The music helped. Animus, for all its chaos, helped.

    ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s another day,¡± she whispered to herself, the city noise outside fading into the background.

    Within moments, sleep took her, the lingering hum of the guitar strings still echoing faintly in her dreams.

 Chapter 21: I need to stay at your house

    Three days later.

    Eduardo Carmine

    Carmine had just walked out of the local PD after doing one of those ¡°legit¡± and ¡°safe¡± check-ins with the cops, proving he was, of course, ¡°totally not involved¡± in any crimes since his probation started. All they told him was to find a job, get a place to rent, and make sure someone housed him for the first week so they could track where he was staying.

    Still, he felt uneasy. The whole heist with KanedaCorp, the crew, and especially Vomi¡ªit all seemed¡­ off.

    How the hell did Vomi survive a hit that would¡¯ve killed a normal person? Sure, she¡¯s corpo, probably chrome-plated like all those execs, but still¡ªblows like that? Borged-up freaks would¡¯ve struggled with that, and here she was, walking it off. And Heitor? Just a messed-up arm. Plus, they all sold the deck to Graves on the same damn day.

    Carmine was definitely jittery during the ¡°interview¡±¡ªor whatever you call it when cops drill you with questions. Yeah, he was hiding stuff, but none of that had anything to do with the cops. They eventually let him go, but now he had a new problem: where the hell was he supposed to go? Call someone? His old crew? Nah, street racers weren¡¯t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for freshly released convicts. And the local gangs? Forget it. Especially with corpos breathing down his neck, his options were disappearing fast.

    Then it hit him¡ªmaybe a dumb idea. Or maybe, a genius one.

    If the corpos were already watching him, why not hide in the shadow of another corpo? The same one he was suspicious of?

    Carmine could fend for himself, sure. But how long before KanedaCorp caught up? And they would catch up. So why not find a place where the danger was expected? At least it would be on his terms, sorta.

    Yeah, this was confusing as hell.

    But it didn¡¯t stop him from pulling up Vomi¡¯s contact on his agent.

    Her profile pic was classic Vomi¡ªpale white skin, jet-black hair, those glasses she always wore, and those unsettling black-red optics that were impossible to ignore. The woman was like a walking contradiction¡ªenigmatic as hell but dangerous in all the right ways.

    ¡°Why are the most attractive women always the deadliest?¡± Carmine muttered as he wandered through the park.

    He needed to check in with the PD again to give them an address, but so far, no place was willing to house a guy fresh out of lockup. The money from the heist kept him off the streets, but it wasn¡¯t like he was living the high life. His car was still trashed, he looked like he hadn¡¯t showered in days, and anyone could figure out his situation with a quick net search.

    ¡°Ah, fuck it,¡± he said, dialing Vomi¡¯s number.

    It rang for what felt like forever¡ªmaybe a minute and a half, but long enough for him to second-guess the call.

    "Who''s this?" Vomi¡¯s voice cut through the line, sharp and irritated. It had that classic corporate edge to it, like she was ready to tear into someone.

    Carmine hesitated for a second, but then reminded himself¡ªhe had nothing to lose. "It¡¯s Carmine," he said, trying to sound casual, though the lump in his throat made that a bit harder than he thought. "We worked that KanedaCorp gig together. Remember?"

    There was a pause. He could almost picture Vomi pinching the bridge of her nose, the way corpos do when they''re trying not to explode.

    "Oh. Right." Her voice dropped some of the anger, but there was still that undercurrent of tension. "What do you want?"

    Straight to the point. Carmine figured she''d be like that. "I, uh¡­ I need a place to crash for a few days," he admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, even though she couldn¡¯t see it. "Probation¡¯s on my ass, and I gotta tell the PD where I¡¯m staying. You know how it is."

    Silence again. This time it felt even heavier, like she was weighing every possible angle before responding.

    "You¡¯re asking me for a place to stay?" Vomi¡¯s tone was more disbelief than anything. "You do realize I don¡¯t exactly run a charity, right?"

    Carmine chuckled nervously, already regretting the call. "I know, I know. Look, I¡¯m not asking for a free ride. I can pull my weight. You need someone who can¡­ I dunno, watch your back or run errands. I can do that."

    There was a long sigh on the other end of the line. "Carmine, you really think you''re cut out for this world? You barely kept it together during the heist."

    Ouch. But she wasn¡¯t wrong.

    "Yeah, well, I¡¯m learning," he muttered defensively. "And I did fairly decent for my first heist proper.¡±

    ¡°You are not wrong.¡±, She replied, although this time way softer, something that caught Carmine off guard, ¡°And your proposal is not the worst thing I''ve heard, especially here at M-Tech.¡±

    Carmine hummed, unsure how to take this, ¡°Soooooo¡­ does that mean I¡ª.¡±

    ¡°I haven''t answered it.¡±, Vomi interrupted, a quick hush that corpos usually do to quickly get their ideas and authority out, ¡°I am considering it. Sasha said she is going to Night City. That means I won''t have a reliable source of Intel here in San Francisco. If you want to stay at my place, you will have to do your part.¡±

    Fair enough, as far as Carmine could tell.

    Carmine nodded, even though she couldn¡¯t see him. "Yeah, I can do that. Whatever you need. I¡¯m just trying to stay out of trouble, you know?"

    Vomi sighed again, the sound more resigned than irritated now. "Fine. You can crash at my place for a few days. But this isn¡¯t a free pass. You screw up, and you''re out. No second chances."

    "Understood." Carmine felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was better than sleeping on the streets or trying to avoid the cops while figuring out his next move.

    "I¡¯ll send you the address," she said, her tone flat again. "Don¡¯t be late, and don¡¯t make me regret this."

    Carmine exhaled, grateful but not stupid enough to say anything that could jinx it. "Thanks, Vomi. I owe you."

    "You owe me more than you realize." The line went dead before he could respond.

    He looked at his agent, seeing the address pop up on the screen. Part of him still felt uneasy about staying with her, but the other part knew this was the best option he had right now.

    "Guess I¡¯m back in the game," he muttered to himself, heading toward the nearest bus stop.

    <hr>

    Carmine thought a lot about the place where Vomi is. The address was weird at first, just your common residential area, no shops or stores nearby, at least a few blocks away from the highway, the usual apartment building, or rather, Megabuilding that you can see far away. Maybe it''s a covert apartment? Could be, but as he used the elevator and stopped right in front of the door, something was¡­ ok, let''s just pretend it isn''t weird for a corp to live in a Megabuilding for a second, then we have the freaks that live nearby, the usual low-end houses and their residents¡­

    But when Carmine finally entered the apartment it was¡­ humble? Humble for a corporate woman? Is that the right word for it? It still had the modern corpo-suit style that the corporations could provide, but the fact that it was still humble to a degree¡­ Just what the bloody hell is this?

    A humble corpo? As if!

    The place was nice though. Everything that a good apartment usually has. A good entertainment system, video games, private bathroom, a good view of San Francisco, a weapons storage¡­ A weapons storage?

    ¡°One, two, three, four¡­ five? Six? Just how many crates of iron does she have?¡± Carmine asked himself as he was still counting, ¡°There is enough to form a new gang in here.¡±

    He allowed himself to pick up a cup of coffee, then texted Vomi to tell he was at the apartment. She didn''t respond but that''s fine.

    ¡°Time to investigate then.¡±, He mumbled as he took a sip of the coffee, ¡°Agh! Too hot¡­¡±

    Putting the cup aside, he checked the crates. Lots of guns of various brands, as well as weapon parts scattered in a makeshift worktable. There were various blueprints of different guns and how exactly they worked, the pros and cons of each attachment, the parts that could serve as placeholders or detailed workarounds for some pistols and shotguns so they performed better and faster¡­ A lot of this work could be military graded. It even forced Carmine to whistle in minor admiration, because this work here is fine art.

    On the table''s side was a laptop connected to various devices. This must be the Netrunning gear that Vomi has, but no diving equipment in sight. So she doesn''t go to the Cyberspace? But wasn''t her gig on M-Tech to work as cyber security? Well, she must have her methods if she still does all of this with technically unfit equipment. A quick plush of the cord was enough to tell that the Black ICE program was something way too powerful for Carmine to even dream about breaking in, so he unplugged and decided to just check the laptop and the devices. Most of them were investigations on something called ¡°Project Ouroboros¡±, the Black Daggers gang or¡­

    ¡°Music lessons?¡±, He said, slightly taken aback by the such casual search right next to something that could very well be a corpo project and a gang of Netrunning psychos.

    Y''know, the usual stuff.

    But nothing that could prove whatever weird feeling Carmine has on Vomi.

    Carmine scrolled through a few more tabs on the laptop, frowning at how casual everything seemed. Music lessons next to Project Ouroboros and Black Dagger gang recon? It was like Vomi lived in two entirely different worlds, juggling corporate espionage with... learning how to play the guitar?

    He leaned back in the chair, rubbing his temples. "What the hell is her deal?" he muttered, trying to make sense of the whole situation. The weapons, the tech, the random domestic touches¡ªnone of it added up.

    Vomi was a mystery. On one hand, she had all the markings of a cold, calculated corpo: a dangerous woman playing by her own rules. On the other hand, there was something human about her. Like, yeah, she had crates of weapons and Black ICE on tap, but she also had music lessons bookmarked?

    Carmine stood up, sipping more carefully at his now slightly cooled coffee. "Maybe she¡¯s just good at compartmentalizing," he mused. "Or maybe I¡¯m just in way over my head."

    He walked over to the window, taking in the view of San Francisco¡¯s sprawling skyline. The megabuilding had a pretty decent view, and for a moment, Carmine allowed himself to enjoy it.

    As he stood there, his agent buzzed with a message from Vomi.

    "Stay out of my things. If I find out you¡¯ve touched anything important, I¡¯ll throw you out myself. And I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re on probation."

    Carmine winced, putting the coffee cup down quickly. "Shit, she¡¯s watching me already?"

    He quickly backed away from the desk, not wanting to push his luck any further. He was lucky enough to have a roof over his head for the time being, and pissing off Vomi wasn¡¯t exactly on his to-do list.

    "Okay, okay, noted," he muttered to himself, plopping down on the couch. "Just gotta keep my head down for a few days, do what she asks, and not get killed. Easy enough, right?"

    Still, something about Vomi and this whole situation nagged at him. There was more going on here, and as much as he knew he should leave it alone, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like he was missing a piece of the puzzle.

    For now, though, he''d play it cool.

    He looked at the side and saw the guitar.

    ¡°Oh, there you are.¡±

    Carmine stared at the guitar for a moment, half tempted to pick it up. He wasn¡¯t exactly a pro, but he knew a couple of chords¡ªjust enough to impress a crowd after a few drinks.

    But touching Vomi¡¯s stuff after that warning? Probably not the best idea.

    Still, his curiosity got the better of him. "What¡¯s the worst that could happen?" he muttered. Then he chuckled to himself. "Actually, scratch that. I don¡¯t wanna find out."

    He grabbed the guitar anyway, sitting back down on the couch, strumming a few notes quietly, careful not to make too much noise. The strings felt smooth under his fingers, and the sound was... surprisingly soothing. For all the chaos swirling around in his life, there was something about playing that made things feel a little more normal. He tried to play a few chords of an old song he used to know, though it came out clunky.

    "Guess I¡¯m rusty as hell," Carmine mumbled, shaking his head. Still, it felt good to do something familiar, something that wasn¡¯t about survival or staying under the radar.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The door suddenly opened, Vomi entered the apartment, throwing a bag at the floor and closing the door with a pained face. The cat on her shoulder seemed to open his mouth but then looked at him. She looked at Carmine who was still mid chord when both acknowledged each other''s presence.

    ¡°Uh¡­?¡±, Carmine tried to come up with an explanation.

    ¡°Go on.¡±, Vomi waved, interested.

    ¡°Well, I¡­¡±

    ¡°Don''t be shy. It''s just a guitar.¡±, She insisted, sitting at the couch.

    Carmine blinked, still mid-chord, not expecting Vomi to be so¡­ chill about it. Especially considering how on edge she¡¯d sounded earlier on the phone.

    "Uh, alright," he muttered, adjusting his grip on the guitar. He strummed the strings again, trying to play the same clunky melody from earlier, though now, with Vomi watching him, it felt even rougher.

    Vomi raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "You know you¡¯re not impressing anyone with that, right?"

    Carmine chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I¡¯m rusty. It¡¯s been a while." He put the guitar down, feeling more embarrassed than relaxed now. "Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be back so soon."

    Vomi shrugged, leaning back into the couch, her face a mix of exhaustion and amusement. "I¡¯m full of surprises, Carmine. Get used to it."

    ¡°Who''s the little guy?¡±, Carmine pointed at the cat, who stared back with his weird black and red fur.

    ¡°This is Vanguard. My partner in life.¡±, The cat itself jumped from her shoulder to her lap, ¡°And a way better guitarist than you.¡±

    "I¡¯m not that bad. Who wasn''t, anyway?¡±

    Vomi laughed, a rare sound that caught Carmine off guard. "You should¡¯ve seen me when I started. Couldn¡¯t get a single note right for weeks. But I kept going. Figured if I could master this, I could handle anything."

    She stretched her arms and winced, the tension in her muscles obvious. "You play anything else?" she asked, her voice more casual now, as if they weren¡¯t two people who had recently pulled off a chaotic heist together.

    Carmine shrugged. "Not really. Just a couple of songs here and there. You know, enough to get by." He gestured at her bag on the floor. "Rough day?"

    Vomi¡¯s expression darkened slightly, but she waved it off. "Just corpo stuff. You know how it is. I was promoted recently, taking care of a division instead of my own.¡±

    "Right..." Carmine wasn¡¯t about to press her for details. He had a feeling whatever she dealt with was way above his pay grade anyway.

    Vomi leaned forward, grabbing the guitar and adjusting the strings. "You know, you should stick around. Could use someone who¡¯s not afraid to get his hands dirty." She began playing a few chords herself, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

    Carmine raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn¡¯t run a charity?"

    "I don¡¯t," she said, not looking up from the guitar. "But you¡¯ve got potential. Maybe not with this," she gestured to the guitar, "but you¡¯ve got a knack for surviving. That could be useful."

    Carmine smirked, leaning back into the couch. "So, you¡¯re saying I¡¯m hired?"

    Vomi¡¯s lips curled into a half-smile, her eyes still on the strings. "Let¡¯s just say you¡¯ve earned a temporary stay. For now."

    The two of them sat there in the quiet of the apartment, the only sound being the soft strumming of the guitar. For the first time in a long while, Carmine felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up.

    After a few more minutes, Vomi handed the guitar back to Carmine. "Practice a bit more. If you¡¯re staying here, at least be decent enough to not make the neighbors scream at you."

    Carmine laughed, taking the guitar back. "Yeah, yeah. I¡¯ll get better."

    Vomi stood up, heading for the bathroom. "Get some sleep soon. You¡¯ll need it."

    Carmine nodded, watching her disappear into the hallway, the cat following along. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the guitar in his hands. Then, with a sigh, he placed it aside, knowing she was right. The weight of everything started to pull him down again, exhaustion settling in.

    He stretched out on the couch, the city¡¯s faint noise filtering through the windows. It wasn¡¯t much, but at least for tonight, he had a place to crash. That was something.

    Before long, his eyes fluttered shut, the events of the past few days catching up with him, dragging him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

    <hr>

    Vomi undressed, still embarrassed that the male part was in a female body. It will never be not awkward, even when she is already two months and a half in this world. The water cleaned more than just dirt, but also her thoughts, the drips cleaning the riffraff of her unconscious. Promotion was not something she thought would come, since she just got into M-Tech, but apparently she was so competent in her work that she was good at it. And of course as corporations would do to their excellent workers, they would be awarded even more work, instead of anything that would help, like¡­ vacations. Day offs.

    Especially day offs.

    Vomi was working all time since the heist, Graves judging her performance ¡°acceptable to the corporate standard, even with the setbacks¡±. And of course that meant that he will use the crew gathering services of her''s again in the near future. Carmine''s call came as Vomi was just presenting what exactly the Cyber Security Team will do with her makeshift leadership, forcing her to stop. Of course she took the call out loud on speakers, not hiding at all the heist or the fact Carmine was one of the participants, to put it in a more sophisticated tone. And¡­ well¡­ It was a good time to test out her Corpo Lifepath persona. The smirk on Vanguard''s face was everything that Vomi needed to confirm that her tactics worked.

    Vomi let out a long breath, the warm water soothing her muscles and quieting her mind, even if just for a moment. Vanguard¡¯s voice echoed in her head, his question laced with concern.

    "Are you sure it¡¯s wise to take him in?" he repeated, his reflection giving her a critical glance from the mirror.

    "Wise?" Vomi replied, her thoughts pushing through the mental link they shared. "Probably not. But I need someone close who¡¯s not corporate. Carmine¡¯s rough around the edges, sure, but that¡¯s what makes him useful. He¡¯s not tied up in all this corpo bullshit like the rest of them."

    Vanguard tilted his head, not entirely convinced. "He¡¯s unpredictable, though. And untested. You saw how he almost crumbled during the heist."

    "Yeah, but he didn¡¯t," Vomi countered, her hands moving through her wet hair, slicking it back. "He made it through. And that says something. Besides, you saw how close KanedaCorp is. We need someone expendable on our side if things go south. Someone who¡¯s just desperate enough to stick around."

    There was a silence between them, the water continuing to cascade down her skin, washing away more than just the grime from the day. Vomi didn¡¯t need to explain any more. Vanguard understood the game she was playing, even if he wasn¡¯t entirely on board with it.

    "Just don¡¯t get too attached," Vanguard warned, his voice low in her mind. "People like him¡­ they don¡¯t last long in this world."

    Vomi sighed, leaning against the wall of the shower, the hot water doing little to ease the tension that clung to her like a second skin. "I know. That¡¯s what I¡¯m counting on."

    She closed her eyes, letting her mind go blank for a moment. The promotion, the weight of the new responsibilities, and the constant grind of corpo life were starting to pile up. But this was the life she had chosen¡ªor rather, the life she had been thrust into. After a few more minutes, she shut off the water and grabbed a towel, drying herself off. Her thoughts drifted back to the heist, to the way Carmine had looked when he¡¯d asked for a place to stay. Desperate, but still holding onto some scrap of pride.

    "Maybe he¡¯ll surprise you," Vomi said to Vanguard, wrapping the towel around herself and stepping out of the bathroom. "People do that sometimes."

    Vanguard huffed, curling up on the bed, his tail flicking lazily. "Let¡¯s hope that surprise doesn¡¯t get you killed."

    With a soft chuckle, Vomi dressed in her usual gray-black sweatshirt and sweatpants, grabbing her glasses and putting them on the counter near her bed. She saw that Carmine was, for the lack of options, sleeping on the couch.

    ¡°On better things¡­¡±, Vomi said out loud, ¡°I have to organize with the band to rehearse the songs.¡±

    ¡°It''s supposed to be this weekend, right?¡±, Vanguard also said out loud, taking his usual spot on the bed.

    ¡°Yup. I''ve been too busy, but I didn''t forget the show The Refused is going to pull. It''s going to be so preem!¡±

    Vanguard questioned if Vomi was truly a man in his past life if ¡°she¡± is so feminine here. She is giggling like a teenager who is about to meet a boy band. But he chose to not question it.

    ¡°You sure seem excited.¡±, He commented with a yawn.

    ¡°How can I not? The whole album has the best songs we could produce!¡±

    ¡°Let''s focus on it tomorrow, alright?¡±

    Vomi frowned as she dropped on the bed, ¡°Such a buzzkill.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I am also excited, but let''s not wake up our guest, shall we?¡±

    ¡°Fiiiiine.¡±

    Vomi laid back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The excitement from talking about the band still buzzed in her veins, but Vanguard had a point¡ªshe had to dial it down, at least for now. Tomorrow would bring its own chaos, with rehearsals and the usual grind of corpo life. For now, she just needed to focus on getting some sleep.

    ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s going to be a long day anyway,¡± she muttered, adjusting her pillow.

    Vanguard purred softly, his form curling up beside her. ¡°It always is,¡± he remarked, though his tone was softer now, less critical.

    Vomi closed her eyes, her thoughts shifting between the upcoming show and the strange dynamic she was building with Carmine. It wasn¡¯t exactly a partnership, more like a necessity of convenience. But there was something about him¡ªsomething unpredictable yet useful. She needed that wildcard in her life, even if she wouldn¡¯t admit it out loud.

    Her mind drifted, the hum of the city outside fading as sleep slowly took over.

    "Tomorrow," she thought, "everything starts again."

    Within minutes, sleep claimed her, the weight of the day fading into dreams laced with distorted guitar riffs and the ever-looming threat of KanedaCorp on the horizon.

    <hr>

    Carmine woke to the sound of electronic components being twisted and tightened. He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling for a few moments before remembering where he was¡ªVomi''s apartment. The whole situation still felt surreal, being housed by a corpo, but he decided to push that aside. Something else was bothering him. Why was this cat staring at him so intensely? It was like it was trying to bore holes into his skull.

    ¡°Morning?¡± he muttered, still confused by the cat¡¯s laser-focused stare.

    Vanguard. Yeah, that was the cat''s name.

    ¡°Morning,¡± Vomi replied absently, her attention fully on whatever she was working on.

    The couch hadn¡¯t given him the best night¡¯s sleep, but it was leagues better than being on the run from probation. He¡¯d already sent his address to the SFPD, so they¡¯d probably show up soon to check in. Yawning, he sat up but stayed on the couch, squinting against the brightness of the morning sun. That¡¯s when he noticed what Vomi was doing.

    ¡°What are you working on?¡± he asked, trying to shake off the grogginess.

    ¡°Grenades,¡± she said, without looking up.

    ¡°Oh¡­ okay.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± she said again, inspecting one she had just finished assembling. "I¡¯m practicing engineering. Well, more specifically, explosive chemistry."

    The casualness in her voice caught him off guard. Carmine blinked, trying to process the fact that she was making grenades. In her apartment.

    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah, I get that. But why here?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to go elsewhere before work,¡± she explained, finally looking up from her project. ¡°And I don¡¯t have a workshop where I can make these uninterrupted. Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯re non-lethal. I didn¡¯t have the fragments for shrapnel. Surprisingly expensive.¡±

    Her tone, like she¡¯d considered it but decided against the purchase, left Carmine uncertain whether to feel relieved or more concerned.

    ¡°Right,¡± he said, mostly just to say something.

    ¡°There¡¯s food in the fridge,¡± Vomi added, pushing her glasses up her nose and turning back to her work. ¡°Use the microwave if you need to heat it up.¡±

    Still a little in shock, Carmine nodded, watching as she calmly returned to crafting more grenade casings like it was just another Monday.

    Well, technically it was Thursday, but the feeling was the same. Carmine dragged himself off the couch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he shuffled to the fridge. He opened it, glancing over the contents¡ªleftovers, some pre-packaged meals, and a few energy drinks. Grabbing a container of what looked like half-eaten noodles, he tossed it in the microwave.

    As the microwave hummed, Carmine glanced over at Vomi. She was laser-focused on her work, methodically putting together another grenade like it was a craft project. It was weird¡ªhe couldn¡¯t figure her out. One minute she was cold and corporate, the next she was casually making explosives in her apartment while offering him breakfast. He couldn¡¯t decide if she was completely insane or just too far into this corpo life to care about anything anymore.

    The microwave dinged, snapping him out of his thoughts. He grabbed the noodles and plopped down at the small table, slurping them down while keeping an eye on Vomi¡¯s work.

    ¡°You do this often?¡± he asked between bites, gesturing toward the growing collection of grenade casings.

    ¡°Not as often as I¡¯d like,¡± Vomi replied without looking up. ¡°But with the promotion, I need to stay sharp. Never know when these might come in handy.¡±

    Carmine paused, the noodles halfway to his mouth. ¡°Handy for what, exactly?¡±

    Vomi finally glanced up, giving him a small, almost playful smirk. ¡°Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them.¡±

    That answer didn¡¯t exactly ease his concerns, but he figured asking too many questions was a quick way to get kicked out. He¡¯d play along for now.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Carmine muttered, finishing the noodles. He leaned back in the chair, watching her work in silence for a bit.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan for today?¡± he asked after a while.

    ¡°Work,¡± Vomi said simply. ¡°I have a presentation later. After that, I¡¯m thinking of heading to the gun range. You¡¯re welcome to join if you¡¯re not too busy doing... whatever it is you do.¡±

    Carmine raised an eyebrow. ¡°The gun range?¡±

    Vomi shrugged. ¡°While you were asleep, I made a sniper rifle.¡±

    ¡°That''s¡­ preem?¡±, Carmine wasn''t sure if his reaction was the right one. After all, no one can say they just made a gun.

    Well, Vomi can apparently.

    ¡°You made a sniper?¡±, He asked again, just to be sure.

    ¡°More like putting a bunch of modified and scrapped parts of different snipers into one.¡±, She said, closing the tool case of the grenades and picking up the sniper, ¡°I still am thinking of a name to it.¡±

    ¡°Woah.¡±

    Carmine stood up, unable to resist getting a closer look. Vomi held the sniper rifle like it was just another gadget, but to him, it looked like something straight out of a military arsenal. The weapon had a long, heavy barrel and a large, angular stock that made it look like it was designed to withstand immense power. Its matte black finish and sleek lines gave it an intimidating presence, with a bolt-action mechanism that clicked smoothly when Vomi demonstrated it.

    The rifle was clearly customized¡ªits barrel had a muzzle brake to manage the heavy recoil, and the scope mounted on top was high-tech, likely capable of scanning targets from miles away with extreme precision. The bipod at the front folded up neatly under the barrel, while the grip and stock looked modified for extra stability and comfort.

    "Where the hell did you get the parts for this?" Carmine asked, his voice full of awe.

    "Scavenged from various corpo leftovers," Vomi replied nonchalantly. "You''d be surprised what gets thrown out when companies upgrade their arsenals."

    Carmine whistled, impressed. "Looks like it could punch a hole through a tank."

    "Close enough," Vomi said with a slight grin, propping the sniper against the wall. "It¡¯s designed to take out armored targets from a long range. Not exactly the kind of thing you bring to a street fight, but when you need it¡­ well, it gets the job done."

    Carmine couldn¡¯t help but run his fingers along the cold metal of the barrel. The sniper was heavy-duty, yet everything about it screamed precision. It reminded him of a military-issue rifle, the kind used for high-stakes, long-range combat¡ªlike something a top-tier merc would use to take out a target from a mile away.

    "What''s it called?" he asked, still examining the craftsmanship.

    Vomi shrugged, crossing her arms. "Haven¡¯t decided yet. I¡¯ll think of something fitting."

    Carmine chuckled. "Holy shit. You don''t play around, do you?¡±

    Vomi stared blankly at him for a while. Vanguard jumped to her shoulder, the woman looking at the cat for a second.

    Weird, but, okay?

    ¡°I''ll leave for now.¡±, She said, putting the lab coat on, ¡°I''ll send you a job later. Counter Intel if I remember it correctly.¡±

    ¡°If my payment is a new Rowley I am all for it.¡±, He joked, but still with a hint of truth.

    ¡°Maybe.¡±, Vomi said, leaving the apartment, but stopped at the door, ¡°Just make sure everything goes smoothly though.¡±

    Carmine nodded, giving her a half-smile. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to keep things smooth,¡± he said, but they both knew that in their line of work, nothing ever really went as planned.

    Vomi gave him a final look before heading out the door, Vanguard still perched on her shoulder, casting one last glance at Carmine before they disappeared down the hallway. The door clicked shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts¡ªand the intimidating sniper rifle leaning against the wall.

    He stared at the rifle for a moment longer, the reality of his situation starting to sink in. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was scrounging for work, trying to stay under the radar. Now he was crashing in a corpo¡¯s apartment, with promises of jobs and... grenades? It didn¡¯t sit right with him, but at the same time, what choice did he really have?

    A corpo''s favor wasn¡¯t something you could just walk away from.

    He sighed, picking up his cup of now-cold coffee and taking a long sip, his eyes still lingering on the rifle. Maybe this wasn¡¯t the life he wanted, but it was the life he had now. And in a city like this, survival was all that mattered.

    ¡°Counter intel, huh?¡± Carmine muttered to himself, staring at the empty room.

    With that, he tossed the cup into the sink, stretched his stiff limbs, and grabbed his jacket. Whatever job Vomi had in store for him, he¡¯d face it head-on. After all, that was the only way to survive in this world.

    He glanced at the sniper rifle one last time, smirking to himself.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said under his breath, ¡°this is gonna be interesting. Or myself getting flatlined. Either or.¡±

 Chapter 22: Low blow

    Two days later

    Nieme Callahan

    The skinny choom was hopping on a bus, headed to the PD. The last few weeks with The Refused were lit. Good beats, and the new member, Vomi, already dropped a killer track. Heitor and Thiago worked their magic on it, making it hit even harder. But the high times with the crew didn¡¯t last long once he got back to his old man¡¯s place. There¡¯s a reason Nieme wrote "Killing in The Name," and that reason was his dad and his gonk take on what being in the police force meant.

    Especially now that they were getting corpos'' dirty eddies.

    All Frank, Nieme¡¯s dad, cared about was following orders from the suits above, no matter what shady biz it involved. Covering up corpo screw-ups, scrubbing out ¡°problems,¡± borrowing from smaller companies, or flatlining whoever the corpos wanted gone¡ªit was all part of the gig. And Nieme? He could barely wrap his head around the fact that his old man had turned into everything they both used to hate. Even worse after his mom got smoked by one of those corpo power plays. It was stupid and obvious all at once, and Nieme felt like an even bigger idiot for not seeing it sooner.

    Nieme stared out the bus window, the city''s neon glow flickering off the rain-soaked streets. His mind kept going back to the same thought¡ªhow the hell did his old man end up like this? Frank used to be solid, always talking about how the system was rigged, how the corpos were the real enemy. Now, he was just another cog in the machine, greasing the wheels for the very people they used to rage against.

    The bus jolted to a stop, and Nieme got up, pulling his hood tighter around his face. The PD was only a few blocks away now, and even though it made his skin crawl to be so close to it, he had to do what he came to do. He wasn''t here for his dad¡ªhe¡¯d given up on Frank a long time ago. No, he was here for something else. Something that was supposed to remind him that not everyone was dirty.

    As he walked down the street, Nieme¡¯s thoughts drifted back to the band. It was the one thing keeping him from going off the deep end. The music, the crew, even Vomi with her corpo ties¡ªit was all an escape. They were building something real, something that mattered. Not like the fake promises his dad was chasing.

    He could still feel the energy from their last jam session. Vomi had this way of pushing the band, making them sharper. She wasn¡¯t just another corpo drone; there was something deeper going on with her. Nieme didn¡¯t fully trust her¡ªhow could he?¡ªbut she brought something to the table that made The Refused better.

    But right now, none of that mattered. The glowing lights of the PD loomed ahead, and Nieme¡¯s stomach churned with a familiar disgust. His father¡¯s precinct. The place where Frank Callahan had sold his soul.

    ¡°Alright, Nieme,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Just get in, get the info, and get out.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t here to see his dad. Hell no. He was here to get some dirt¡ªsomething he could use against the system. Something that could finally make a difference.

    When Nieme walked in, he immediately spotted a familiar face.

    "Raven?" he asked, surprised to see her at the entrance. "What are you doing here?"

    "Oh, hey Nieme!" she waved, her usual dark, edgy look standing out even in the dull atmosphere of the precinct. "Just sorting out some shit with the PD. Still dealing with that Black Daggers crap."

    "Still those gonks? Has Vomi found any dirt on them yet?"

    "Not yet," Raven said, frowning. "And don¡¯t forget¡ªour show¡¯s tomorrow." She pointed at him, her tone serious. "Whatever you¡¯re up to, don¡¯t mess with the show. It¡¯s gotta be perfect if we want to break into the big leagues."

    Nieme raised his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But I¡¯ve got biz here too. Pops ain¡¯t in, so I need to... dig around for some stuff."

    "Real subtle," Raven smirked. "Need a hand? My business here¡¯s gonna take a while anyway."

    "You sure? Don¡¯t wanna get you in trouble."

    She narrowed her eyes, leaning in slightly. "You¡¯re already causing trouble. Might as well help my choom while I¡¯m at it."

    Nieme cracked a small smile, relieved. "Damn. Thanks, Raven. Just keep an eye out for anyone who might take issue with what I¡¯m doing."

    "Your call," she replied with a shrug.

    With that, they stepped into the building. The San Francisco Police Department wasn¡¯t much different from any other precinct in a big city¡ªcrowded, disorganized, and filled with people doing everything but actual competent work.

    Sure, there are some actual good workers here and there, but they are overshadowed by the sheer stupidity that orbits this place. Even more when the actual good work is done in the HuscleNet instead of the actual legalized place.

    Fucking politics.

    Nieme made his way through the precinct, trying not to draw attention. Raven hung back, scanning the area like a hawk, her presence almost casual but still sharp. As they moved, Nieme¡¯s mind raced with what he was here for¡ªdigging into the PD¡¯s finances. He knew something was off. The cops had been getting a lot of extra funding lately, but there wasn¡¯t much to show for it on the streets. He wanted to see if their eddies were being funneled into something they shouldn''t be.

    He slipped into one of the side offices and logged into a terminal, keeping his head low as he started searching through financial reports. Raven stood near the door, leaning against the wall like she belonged there, but her eyes flickered over anyone who passed by. Nieme''s fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up budget reports and department spending logs. It didn¡¯t take long to find something odd¡ªmassive chunks of money allocated to ¡°special projects¡± with almost no details about what those projects were.

    "Found something?" Raven asked quietly, sensing his tension.

    "Yeah, I guess.¡±, He continued to inspect the files, taking his time to read something before coming to conclusions, ¡°Looks like they¡¯re hiding the real spending under vague labels. These ''special projects'' don¡¯t even say what they¡¯re for. Could be anything¡ªslush funds, kickbacks, maybe worse."

    There are even some funds labeled simply as ¡°missing personnel¡±, the list varying from unemployed people to just plain out deposits. They aren''t even hiding this, are they? No one would believe that an almost crumbling department would have such wage leaks like this. But before Nieme could dig any deeper, a shadow loomed in the doorway at the second Raven lost her focus. He froze as the familiar voice cut through the low hum of the office.

    "Nieme. What the fuck are you doing here?"

    It was his father.

    Frank Callahan, broad-shouldered and as intimidating as ever, stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his son hunched over a police terminal. The air in the room grew thick with tension as Nieme slowly turned to face him, feeling like he¡¯d been caught in a net he couldn¡¯t wriggle out of.

    Raven tensed but stayed silent, watching for any sudden moves.

    Nieme straightened, trying to keep his voice steady. "Father. You know why I am here. I will never agree with what you lowered yourself to.¡±

    Frank¡¯s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening. "You need to stay out of this, Nieme. You don¡¯t understand how things work here."

    "Yeah, I think I fucking do," Nieme shot back. "You¡¯re selling out, just like the rest of ''em. Mom would¡¯ve¡ª"

    "Don¡¯t you dare bring your mother into this!¡±, Frank cut him off, his voice dangerously low.

    He stepped closer, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. "This isn¡¯t some game, boy. You don¡¯t poke around in places that¡¯ll get you killed."

    Nieme clenched his fists, feeling the anger boiling up. "Maybe. But playing the idle game can get you so long before you become a target. And you know it.¡±

    Frank¡¯s eyes flashed with something between fury and regret, but he didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving Nieme and Raven alone with the cold realization that he¡¯d just put a bigger target on his back.

    "Well," Raven muttered, breaking the silence. "That went about as well as I expected."

    Nieme exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let¡¯s just get outta here and be grateful that he isn''t going to report us.¡±

    As they headed out of the precinct, Nieme''s mind was spinning. Why was the PD getting so much funding with nothing to show for it? The corpos weren¡¯t stupid; they¡¯d eventually piece together that this was just one big money pit. So what the hell were they really doing with all that cash?

    Nieme walked a few steps before noticing Raven had stopped behind him, just standing there, giving him that signature deadpan look.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°I still gotta handle my biz at the PD,¡± she said, her tone flat like it should¡¯ve been obvious.

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Nieme muttered, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

    Raven raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, what¡¯d you dig up? I caught the basics, but what else is buried in there?¡±

    Nieme shook his head, still piecing it together. ¡°It¡¯s a whole mess, Raven. There¡¯s a ton of eddies being funneled into these so-called ¡®special projects,¡¯ but there¡¯s no breakdown¡ªjust blank labels and massive amounts of cash vanishing into thin air.¡±

    Raven crossed her arms, frowning. ¡°Classic corpo BS. Either they¡¯re hiding something nasty or lining their pockets big time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and that¡¯s just surface-level stuff. It gets worse. There¡¯s funds marked under ¡®missing personnel.¡¯ Like, they¡¯re paying out to ghosts. I¡¯m talking corpos, freelancers, even some cops¡ªpeople who either don¡¯t exist or¡­ disappeared.¡±

    Raven¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°So, they''re covering up bodies and using the budget as a smoke screen? Figures.¡±

    Nieme nodded. ¡°Exactly. I need more time to dig deep, pull real receipts before I can do anything about it.¡±

    Raven smirked. ¡°Well, you¡¯re already knee-deep in it, choom. What¡¯s next?¡±

    ¡°Right now? We bail before someone starts asking questions,¡± Nieme said, his heart still racing after running into his dad.

    They slipped out of the precinct without drawing attention, moving through the chaos as smoothly as they could. Nieme¡¯s head buzzed with all the questions this mess raised, but one thing was clear¡ªhis old man¡¯s involvement ran way deeper than just following orders from his bosses.

    ¡°Your pops really sold out, huh?¡± Raven¡¯s voice was softer now, almost understanding as they hit the street.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Nieme muttered, feeling the weight of it. ¡°He sold out a long time ago.¡±

    Raven glanced at him, her eyes sharp. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure he¡¯s not the last one to pay for it.¡±

    Nieme looked back at her, realizing this wasn¡¯t a solo gig. He had a crew¡ªRaven, Vomi, the band. They weren¡¯t about to let the system crush them. They were in it now, and they weren¡¯t backing down.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna hit up Vomi, see if she¡¯s got anyone who can help us dig deeper. Maybe even look into the Black Daggers while I¡¯m at it.¡± Raven¡¯s eyes lit up as she sent a quick text on her agent.

    ¡°That¡¯d be huge. By the way, how¡¯s the wounds? You good?¡±

    ¡°Healing, mostly,¡± she said, her hand instinctively brushing over the wraps under her clothes. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine for the show, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about.¡±

    ¡°You better be. Don¡¯t need our lead singer getting flatlined,¡± Nieme joked, a smirk tugging at his lips, breaking the tension.

    Raven huffed. ¡°As if.¡± Then, more serious, ¡°Look, I¡¯ll be in touch. Gonna grab some grub, then head back to the PD. If I find anything worth a damn, I¡¯ll ping you.¡±

    ¡°Preem,¡± Nieme nodded.

    <hr>

    ¡°Aaaaannnnnd¡­¡± Thiago grinned in the rehearsal warehouse, finalizing the mix. He hit the save button with a flourish, labeling the file for their first official release as The Refused. ¡°Done!¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    It was done. The album was titled ¡°Resurgence,¡± capturing the spirit of rebellion, awakening, and a refusal to conform to societal norms. Thiago chuckled to himself; he was just the guy behind the scenes, not some grand conspirator or liberator. Just Thiago, laid-back and chill.

    ¡°Whatcha doing, Dad?¡± a little voice piped up.

    Thiago stretched his back, arms reaching upwards with a satisfying pop. ¡°Just finished wrapping everything up for the big show. All that''s missing is us playing it.¡±

    ¡°Are you gonna be in there?¡± the kid asked, tilting her head.

    He looked at her¡ªthose bright green eyes, her ginger hair pulled into a messy bun. ¡°Just as the mixer, tuning the song when needed, but yeah.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, so boring. I thought you''d be singing,¡± she pouted, clearly disappointed.

    ¡°Well, if I don¡¯t do this, the song¡¯s gonna sound like total shit, so¡­¡±

    Just then, the door to the warehouse swung open, and in walked Vomi. She spotted the kid and immediately broke into a bright smile that contrasted her usual intimidating vibe. ¡°Hey, Thiago! Who¡¯s the girl?¡±

    The child was young, a redhead with freckles splattered across her nose and a charming missing tooth. Dressed in a little white dress, she looked no older than seven but seemed completely at home in the warehouse. Vomi instantly recognized that this girl was pure light in the dark world of Night City.

    ¡°Must be protected at all costs,¡± Vomi thought.

    ¡°She¡¯s my daughter,¡± Thiago said, closing the mixing application. ¡°Vomi, meet Katie. Katie, this is Dr. Vomi.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the corpo lady that likes nova songs!¡± Katie exclaimed, her face lighting up like she¡¯d just spotted her favorite toy, ¡°You are even more beautiful than I thought.¡±

    Vomi laughed softly, crouching down to meet Katie¡¯s gaze. ¡°Corpo lady, huh? I¡¯ll take it. But I think it¡¯s more about the music than the suits.¡±

    ¡°Your song is the best I¡¯ve heard! Daddy plays it all the time when he¡¯s at work!¡± Katie said, her excitement palpable.

    ¡°That''s because everyone there loves the lyrics and energy of ¡®Devil Trigger.¡¯ It¡¯s fitting,¡± Thiago chimed in, ruffling Katie¡¯s hair affectionately.

    Katie giggled, swatting his hand away. ¡°Dad, stop! I¡¯m not a baby!¡±

    ¡°Sure you¡¯re not,¡± Thiago said, suppressing a grin. ¡°But you¡¯ll always be my little girl.¡±

    Vomi leaned in closer, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°So, Katie, what do you think about music? Do you want to be a rockstar like your dad?¡±

    Katie¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement. ¡°Yeah! But I want to sing! I can sing really loud!¡±

    ¡°Maybe we can get you on stage someday,¡± Vomi said, a teasing tone in her voice.

    Katie''s face lit up. ¡°Really? That would be so preem!¡±

    ¡°Just remember, it takes a lot of practice,¡± Thiago warned, but his voice held no real seriousness. ¡°And a strong heart, just like the songs we play.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Katie nodded vigorously. ¡°I¡¯ll practice every day!¡±

    Vomi stood up, glancing at Thiago. ¡°Well, you¡¯d better keep an eye on her. With a voice like that, she might steal the spotlight!¡±

    Thiago laughed, shaking his head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I gotta go get ready for rehearsal,¡± Vomi said, her tone shifting slightly. ¡°But keep that energy flowing. The show¡¯s gotta be epic.¡±

    ¡°Count on it,¡± Thiago replied, already diving back into his gear.

    As Vomi walked away, Katie turned to her dad, eyes wide with admiration. ¡°Can we be like them someday, Dad? Playing music and stuff?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, Katie,¡± Thiago said, a warm smile spreading across his face. ¡°Just remember, it¡¯s about more than the fame¡ªit¡¯s about making a difference. And you¡¯ve got the heart for it.¡±

    Katie beamed, a flicker of determination sparking in her eyes. ¡°Then let¡¯s make it happen!¡±

    Thiago chuckled, feeling a swell of pride for his little girl. ¡°We will, kiddo. We will.¡±

    Nieme, Heitor, Blaze and Raven arrived shortly after, greeting the kid like they were old friends. They probably were since it was Vomi who joined the latest. They started doing small talk, keeping the flow going for a while before getting the music gear together so they''d be ready to do one last rehearsal before the show. Nieme was the only one who seemed unfocused at first, but soon enough he was at 100% again.

    Raven as the lead singer, Heitor at the drums, Nieme as the bass, Blaze at the main guitar, Vomi as the second guitar and finally, Thiago as the background singer and live mixer of the song.

    Katie couldn''t help but giggle at the reunion, everything seemed just perfect. Sure, Vomi was weird with her black-red eyes, but at least she knew how to make a good song.

    Then Heitor started the countdown with the drumsticks, ¡°One, two, three¡­¡±

    First song, Bring Me to Life, by Raven.

    Nieme, Heitor, Blaze, and Raven arrived shortly after, greeting Katie like they were old friends. It was a cozy little scene, probably because Vomi had joined the band later on. The playful banter flowed between them, laughter punctuating their conversations as they set up the gear for their final rehearsal before the big show.

    Katie watched them with wide eyes, soaking in the camaraderie. She loved seeing her dad surrounded by his friends. They felt like a family, and even though Vomi was a bit weird with her black-red eyes, she was preem. Plus, she could make some seriously awesome songs.

    Once the gear was ready, the group fell into their positions. Raven stood front and center, commanding the stage with her presence, while Heitor took his place behind the drums. Nieme slung his bass over his shoulder, Blaze grabbed his guitar, and Vomi picked up her axe, ready to complement the sound. Thiago settled in behind the mixing board, prepared to enhance their raw energy with live adjustments.

    Katie couldn''t help but giggle at the reunion; everything felt just right. She bounced on her toes, excitement bubbling inside her. ¡°This is gonna be epic!¡± she whispered to herself.

    Heitor raised his drumsticks, signaling everyone to quiet down. ¡°Alright, crew, let¡¯s do this. One, two, three¡­¡±

    The beat dropped, and Raven¡¯s voice soared, filling the warehouse with the haunting melody of ¡°Bring Me to Life.¡± Katie felt the energy pulsing around her, the rhythm vibrating through the floor. Raven¡¯s voice was powerful, and Katie couldn¡¯t help but sway to the music, her heart racing in time with the beats.

    ¡°Wake me up inside!¡± Raven sang, and Katie closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment. It was like magic, watching her dad and his friends create something beautiful together. She couldn¡¯t wait to tell all her classmates about it.

    As the song built to a crescendo, Katie¡¯s eyes darted to Vomi, who was totally into it, eyes closed and lost in the music. She was so focused, the way a painter might be with a blank canvas, crafting something beautiful from nothing. It was incredible to see someone so talented just be themselves.

    The song finished, and the room erupted in cheers. Raven grinned, catching Katie''s eye and giving her a thumbs-up. ¡°How was that, Katie?¡±

    ¡°You were amazing!¡± Katie shouted back, her voice ringing with joy.

    ¡°Alright, next up! Let¡¯s give them ¡®Eddies for Nothing¡¯!¡± Heitor announced, adjusting his drumsticks.

    As the iconic riff kicked in, Katie felt the beat shift. The song was infectious, and she couldn¡¯t help but dance a little, her feet tapping along with the rhythm. It was a preem twist, talking about eddies instead of money, and it made her feel like she was in on some big secret.

    Raven¡¯s voice rang out again, and Katie clapped along with the beat, her heart swelling with pride for her dad. The way they all came together, weaving their talents into something special, made her feel like she was part of something huge.

    The song rolled on, and Katie found herself humming along, her little heart pumping with excitement. She imagined herself up there on stage, singing right alongside them. ¡°One day, I¡¯ll be up there too,¡± she thought, her determination blossoming.

    As the final chord faded away, cheers erupted again. The energy in the room was electric, and Katie felt like she was flying. ¡°You guys are the best!¡± she shouted.

    ¡°Thanks, kiddo!¡± Raven called back, chuckling. ¡°Next up is ¡®Killing in the Name!¡¯ Let¡¯s show ¡®em what we got!¡±

    The atmosphere shifted slightly as the opening beat of ¡°Killing in the Name¡± began to play. The gritty vibe of the song was different, a call to arms, and Katie felt the intensity wash over her. She could see the passion in each of their faces, especially Raven, who poured herself into every lyric.

    As they launched into the song, Katie couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of empowerment. The lyrics resonated deep within her, like a fight against the world. She loved how they took something powerful and made it their own. It was thrilling to witness, the raw energy radiating from the band, and she wished she could shout it out from the rooftops.

    Vomi and Blaze¡¯s guitars melded into a fierce harmony, and Katie imagined herself shredding on stage, wailing out the notes. She felt invincible, riding the waves of sound that crashed over her.

    ¡°Fuck you, I won¡¯t do what you tell me!¡± Raven belted, and Katie felt every word vibrate through her. The chorus echoed in her heart, making her feel brave and bold. She wanted to shout those words at the world, to stand up against everything that tried to hold her down.

    The song ended with a powerful crash, and cheers erupted once more, the warehouse shaking with applause and excitement. ¡°You guys rock!¡± Katie beamed.

    ¡°Alright, last one!¡± Blaze announced, his voice rising over the excitement. ¡°Let¡¯s finish strong with ¡®Devil Trigger!¡¯¡±

    The energy shifted again as the first notes rang out. Katie could feel the anticipation in the air. She knew this song well, having listened to it countless times. The bass kicked in, and her dad¡¯s rhythm was infectious, making her want to jump and dance.

    As Raven¡¯s voice kicked in, Katie felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins. ¡°Ignite!¡± Raven sang, and Katie imagined herself lighting up the stage with a fierce fire.

    The music exploded around them, each note intertwining with the next, creating a tapestry of sound. It was powerful and electrifying, and Katie felt herself getting lost in the moment. She watched her dad pour his soul into his playing, the way he moved with the music, and it filled her with pride.

    The song reached its peak, and Katie could see the way everyone was completely immersed in the performance. She wanted to capture this moment forever, the feeling of unity and passion that surrounded her.

    As the final notes rang out and the song came to an end, the warehouse erupted into cheers once more. Katie jumped up and down, her little heart bursting with joy. ¡°You guys were incredible!¡± she shouted.

    ¡°Thanks, kid!¡± Blaze grinned, giving her a playful salute.

    Raven stepped forward, panting but exhilarated. ¡°You ready for the show, Katie?¡±

    ¡°More than ready!¡± she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She felt like she could conquer the world, and all of it was thanks to the music and the family she found in this band.

    They all grabbed a few bottles of beer, with Katie clutching a soda can, her expression bright and full of energy. The group gathered together, raising their drinks high, the girl¡¯s smaller frame not quite matching the others'' heights, but her spirit was unyielding.

    ¡°To a successful gig!¡± Raven declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

    ¡°To The Refused!¡± Nieme chimed in, a grin plastered on his face.

    ¡°And so we can get eddies for something!¡± Blaze added, his usual penchant for terrible humor slipping out.

    Everyone shot him a look.

    ¡°What?¡± he replied, feigning innocence.

    ¡°That''s the worst pun I¡¯ve ever heard,¡± Thiago said, his face perfectly straight.

    ¡°Jesus Christ, you¡¯re getting worse by the day, Blaze,¡± Heitor deadpanned.

    ¡°Fuck you two!¡± Blaze shot back, crossing his arms defensively.

    ¡°Hey! That''s my dad you''re talking about!¡± Katie exclaimed, hurling her soda can at him with all her might.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± Blaze exclaimed, dramatically pretending to clutch his chest. He was soaked now, sticky soda drenching his shirt.

    Vomi stifled a laugh, feeling warmth in her chest. It was moments like these that reminded her of family, and even as Vanguard made sarcastic comments about ¡°family problems¡± in her mind, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that these chooms were like a second family to her.

    But then Vanguard¡¯s tone shifted, breaking through the laughter. ¡°Wait. Something is wrong.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Vomi replied, a tightness settling in her stomach.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but keep close to the kid,¡± Vanguard warned, jumping from her shoulder to the table next to Katie, his instincts kicking in.

    Oblivious to the tension, Katie giggled as the cat settled near her, stroking its fur with her small fingers. After all, everyone loved cats.

    The atmosphere shifted slightly, and Vomi found herself half-listening to the banter, her senses heightened. Her mind roamed over the surroundings, scanning for any signs of trouble. She checked her agent, and the Black ICE in her system seemed calm¡ªnothing ringing alarms.

    Then it happened.

    Sparks exploded from the walls, bathing the room in blinding light. The lights flickered, plunging everything into chaos. Vomi felt a sharp jolt surge through her body, locking her in place. Her muscles seized, her mind overwhelmed by the invasive, paralyzing effects of a Quick Hack. The electric sensation shot through her spine like nothing she''d ever experienced before.

    "Vomi!" Raven''s voice cut through the chaos, full of alarm.

    But Vomi couldn''t respond. She was trapped inside her own body, her limbs unresponsive, frozen by the Short Circuit that had targeted her minimal but dangerous chrome. A hack like this could cripple anyone with even the slightest cyberware, and Vomi''s body, enhanced yet vulnerable, betrayed her in this moment of weakness.

    Screams erupted as shadows moved in. The Black Daggers-merciless and poised for attack. They weren''t here for a casual raid; they were ready for blood.

    "Get down!" Heitor shouted, instantly reacting. He threw himself between the attackers and Katie, shielding the girl with his broad frame. Blaze and Nieme scrambled for anything they could find -grabbing instruments and gear, anything that could serve as a weapon in the chaos.

    "Keep her safe!" Raven commanded, her voice sharp, but even she was struggling to stay on her feet, the crackling energy of the hack still zapping through her nerves.

    Thiago tried to reach for Katie, his instincts screaming to protect his daughter, but he was blindsided. A Black Dagger thug tackled him hard, slamming him into the ground. Pain ripped through Thiago as he fought, grappling with the heavily augmented attacker. The tattoos and chrome flashed in the dim light, a familiar signal of just how deadly they were.

    Vomi''s vision blurred as she saw the struggle, Thiago''s fists flying against the mercenary. Her mind screamed to move, to act, but her body wouldn''t respond. She fought against the paralyzing current in her system, but it felt like swimming against a riptide. Static hissed in her ears, and all she could do was watch.

    Hate boiled inside her¡ªat the Black Daggers, at herself, at her helplessness.

    "Get off him!" Raven''s voice, full of fury, cut through the noise. She lunged at the attackers with rage, her fists striking with brutal precision. Nieme and Blaze backed her, weapons raised and shots firing. They were protecting their own with everything they had.

    But then a cry of agony rang out, cutting through the chaos like a knife. Thiago''s face contorted in pain as one of the Black Daggers drove a blade deep into his side.

    "Dad!" Katie screamed, her small voice filled with terror. Her wide green eyes took in the horrific sight, her world crashing around her. Time seemed to slow as the weight of the moment overwhelmed her.

    Vomi''s heart sank, her pulse pounding in her ears. Fear and adrenaline shot through her, breaking against the paralysis that still held her captive. The Black Daggers were ruthless. They didn''t care who they hurt. But something else stirred in her now- something primal, something she could no longer contain.

    She wasn''t the one in control anymore.

    With a surge of power, Vomi began to fight back. Her body twitched, breaking through the hold of the hack. But it wasn''t her doing-it was Animus. The symbiote stirred, anger surging through it. The restraints in her mind shattered, and Animus took over, feeding on her rage and frustration.

    Vanguard merged with her, not out of choice, but out of necessity. The two forces became one, an unstoppable tide of fury and instinct. Vomi''s eyes burned, her body twisting and transforming as Animus took control.

    In that moment, Animus broke through the fog of paralysis, rising to its feet. The Quick Hack''s hold dissipated, and what stood in Vomi''s place was something far more dangerous.

    "What the¡ª¡± one of the Black Daggers managed to choke out, his face contorting in terror.

    He didn''t finish the sentence.

    A tendril, black and red, shot out from Animus''s body, piercing the thug''s skull in a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed as the tendril retracted, leaving the man to collapse lifeless on the floor.

    And then Animus roared.

    Katie stood frozen, her hands still clutching the soda can like it could somehow protect her. She couldn''t make sense of the chaos, the horror unfolding before her eyes. There, in the middle of the room, where Vomi once stood, was something else. A creature, twisted with black and red tendrils, its chest emblazoned with a nightmarish spider emblem. It towered, monstrous, and the noise it made shook everyone to their core.

    A monster.

    "What the fuck is that thing?!" one of the remaining Black Daggers screamed, panic overtaking him.

    "Shoot it down!" another shouted, scrambling for his gun, but his hands trembled.

    "I''m trying! Goddamn it!¡±

    Animus was fully unleashed. It moved with terrifying speed, tearing through the attackers like they were nothing but prey. Another tendril lashed out, striking down a second thug, his body flung across the room with bone-shattering force.

    For Animus, their screams were nothing but white noise. The only thing that mattered now was protecting its host-and those who mattered to her.

    Vomi, deep inside the creature, felt her consciousness slip, overwhelmed by the raw power Animus wielded. She wasn''t in control anymore, but part of her didn''t care. Not now. Not while her family was in danger.

    The Black Daggers didn''t stand a fucking chance.

 Chapter 23: I feel like a monster

    The room descended into hell.

    Bullets flew, ricocheting off walls and gear, but none of it mattered. Animus, in all its terrifying glory, barely flinched as gunfire peppered its skin. Red and black tendrils lashed out with violent precision, wrapping around limbs, crushing bones, and flinging bodies across the room like they were nothing. The Black Daggers kept screaming, shooting, trying to Quick Hack, but nothing worked. They were just targets to the symbiote''s wrath.

    Vomi was somewhere inside Animus, fighting to keep her symbiote focused on the Black Daggers and not on the others in the room. She could feel its raw hunger, its desire for carnage, burning through her. But in this moment, she didn''t care. The need for secrecy, for hiding her powers, evaporated. Right now, the only thing that mattered was making sure none of these gonks walked out alive. She wasn''t going to let this slide, not after seeing Thiago bleeding out on the floor.

    She wanted blood. Wanted them to suffer. Vomi felt Animus mirror her thoughts, surging with an almost euphoric fury.

    Blaze and Nieme were huddled behind some gear cases, their faces pale as they watched Animus tear through the attackers. Heitor stayed low, clutching Katie tightly to his chest, shielding her from the worst of the carnage, his eyes wide with disbelief at what was happening. Katie, terrified but silent, peeked over Heitor''s shoulder, her wide green eyes glued to the terrifying figure Animus had become.

    "I-Is that Vomi?" Blaze stammered, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

    Nieme shook his head, his jaw clenched. "I don''t know what the fuck that is, but we aren''t it''s target.¡±

    Meanwhile, Raven fought with ferocity, fists cracking against chrome and flesh, but even she had to pause, eyes wide as Animus dismantled their enemies. The bodies piled up, broken and bloodied. The Black Daggers'' screams faded one by one, their numbers dwindling as Animus wiped them out without mercy.

    One thug tried to make a run for it, bolting for the exit, but Animus was faster. A tendril shot out, wrapping around the thug''s leg, dragging him back into the center of the room. His screams were cut short as the symbiote twisted his body in ways it was never meant to bend, the sickening crunch of bones echoing through the warehouse.

    Vomi''s thoughts blurred with Animus''s primal rage, a single, overwhelming desire to make these bastards pay. She''d find out how they knew about the warehouse later. Right now, all that mattered was sending a message-no one messes with her or her people and walks away.

    One of the last Black Daggers, bleeding and panicked, scrambled back on his hands and knees, trying to get away. "Please... I didn''t... we were just following orders... please!" he begged, his voice cracking with terror.

    Animus paused, its tendrils hovering above him, ready to strike. Vomi could feel the symbiote''s bloodlust, the hunger to end this pathetic excuse for a man right then and there. But something held her back. Information. They needed to know who sent them.

    "Who gave you this location?" Vomi''s voice came out, but it was twisted, distorted through Animus''s form. The thug trembled, his eyes darting between Animus and the bodies littering the floor.

    "I... I don''t know!" he whimpered. "We were just paid to hit this place, that''s all! They didn''t tell us anything!¡±

    "Bullshit," She growled, and the thug shrieked as a tendril wrapped around his throat, squeezing just enough to cut off his air. "You don''t hit places like this without knowing who you''re dealing with. Who hired you?"

    The thug''s eyes bulged, his face turning purple. "Alright! Alright!" he conceded, the grip lessening a bit, ¡°It was KanedaCorp! But that''s all I know!¡±

    Vomi barely had time to process the revelation before she heard a soft whimper behind her. Katie.

    Animus retracted its tendrils, and Vomi fought to regain control, pushing the symbiote back. Slowly, the monstrous form began to fade, or at least part of it to show enough of her face, leaving Vomi kneeling in the wreckage, her chest heaving with exertion. The air felt thick with the stench of blood and burning chrome. She looked up to see Raven standing over Thiago, her hands pressed against his side, trying to stem the bleeding.

    Thiago''s face was pale, his breathing shallow. "Shit, Thiago..." Vomi muttered, her heart dropping. She scrambled over to him, ignoring the soreness in her limbs from the Quick Hack and the fight.

    Vomi tried to kneel beside him, but Thiago was pulled away from her. She could only watch at the faces of everyone, the face of fear.

    ¡°Whoever the fuck you are, stay away.¡±, Raven said hesitantly, but with enough force to at least pretend be confident.

    She couldn''t really blame them. What she became in front of them, what she did and her appearance, it all screamed danger. Katie was shifting focus on Vomi and Thiago, unsure if her priority should be to stay away from her or see if her father was fine.

    The scientist couldn''t help but scoff through clenched teeth. Of course it was KanedaCorp. Of course the Black Daggers would accept bitter vengeance. One already attacked them, but the least probably expedited everything. The corpos were just waiting for a slide, a sliver in focus. What better time to strike than the show''s eve? Not a single one of them expected an attack today.

    Raven¡¯s eyes flicked between Vomi and Thiago, her fists clenched as she held pressure on the wound. "We need to get him out of here now." Her voice was tight, controlled, but Vomi could hear the tremble beneath it. The hesitation to trust her was painfully clear.

    Vomi wanted to explain, to tell them this wasn¡¯t her, or at least not fully. But there wasn¡¯t time for that now. The KanedaCorp revelation gnawed at her mind. Those bastards had been waiting for a chance to hit her where it hurt¡ªthrough her crew, her friends. But the ambush today wasn¡¯t about business, it was personal. The Black Daggers were never hired for precision jobs, they were there to cause mayhem.

    Animus still throbbed beneath her skin, pulsing with unspent rage, hungry for more. Vomi gritted her teeth and suppressed the symbiote''s urge to finish the thug cowering in the corner. There was no time to indulge in revenge, not with Thiago¡¯s life hanging in the balance.

    ¡°Move out!¡± Vomi barked, forcing herself to focus. ¡°Blaze, Nieme, get the van running! We need to get him to the ripperdoc, now.¡±

    Blaze nodded, snapping out of his shock and grabbing Nieme by the shoulder. ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s move!¡±

    Raven continued to press against Thiago¡¯s side, her hands slick with blood, eyes darting between Vomi and the exit. ¡°Katie, come here. Stay with me.¡±

    Katie hesitated for a second, her wide green eyes darting to Vomi, still unsure whether to trust the woman who moments before had been a literal monster. But when Raven extended her arm, Katie bolted into her embrace, trembling but holding on tightly. Heitor knelt beside them, his face grim, but ready to help carry Thiago if needed.

    Vomi forced herself to stay back, giving them space. The horror in their eyes was unmistakable. They feared her, or at least what she could become. She couldn¡¯t deny it¡ªAnimus had unleashed something in her today, something she wasn¡¯t sure she could ever fully control again.

    Raven shot her a glance, her voice tense. "You... whatever you are... you saved us. But we need to get him to the ripperdoc, and we need to do it fast. So if you can, help us, or just stay out of the way."

    The accusation stung, but Vomi couldn¡¯t argue. She had crossed a line¡ªone that would need answers eventually. But not now. Not when Thiago was bleeding out and the Black Daggers were scattered, but not dead.

    ¡°On it,¡± Vomi said, her voice steady, pushing down the whirlwind of emotions.

    She allowed them to leave as the wannabe netrunner still had some questions to answer.

    ¡°The ones responsible for this dies tonight.¡±

    <hr>

    Raven Lowhental

    Nieme was driving the van, all the gigs equipment being thrown at the warehouse without care as the main priority was Thiago. She didn''t have a single knowledge about first aid and none of them were MaxTac clients, so the only thing she could do was hope that whatever measures she made are correct. Blaze had his shotgun ready in canse anything happened while Heitor was doing his best to keep the freckled redhead calm while orientating on what little knowledge of army healthcare he knew.

    ¡°Use the alcohol. It will burn like hell, but it will disinfect the wound.¡±, Heitor said, handing a bottle.

    ¡°Then what?¡±, Rave asked as she poured the liquid, Thiago shaking slightly at the pain.

    ¡°Put clean cloth on it. Do not let his blood leave his body. And apply a stim, it will help.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡±

    Raven worked quickly, following Heitor¡¯s instructions, her hands steady despite the panic clawing at her chest. Thiago''s breathing was shallow, his face pale as she pressed the cloth against his wound. The van swerved as Nieme took a sharp turn, the harsh city lights flickering through the windows.

    Blaze kept his eyes on the road ahead, shotgun gripped tightly in his hands. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them hyper-aware of the ticking clock on Thiago¡¯s life. Raven glanced at him, then at Heitor, who was holding Katie close, his face a mixture of determination and fear. Katie¡¯s small hands were gripping the hem of his shirt, her knuckles white as she stayed silent, watching her father¡¯s labored breaths with wide eyes.

    ¡°Stay with me, Thiago,¡± Raven muttered under her breath, hoping he could hear her. ¡°Just a little longer.¡±

    The ripperdoc wasn¡¯t far now, but Raven couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something else was coming. The attack from the Black Daggers had been swift and brutal, but she knew KanedaCorp wouldn¡¯t stop there. They had taken the first shot, and it was only a matter of time before the next one came.

    Her gaze drifted toward the back of the van, where Vomi had stayed behind, dealing with the last of the thugs. The memory of what she¡¯d become back at the warehouse still gnawed at Raven''s thoughts. The image of Vomi wrapped in that monstrous, alien form, tearing through the Black Daggers with a fury that bordered on savage, was seared into her mind.

    Whatever that was, it wasn¡¯t the Vomi she knew. Not entirely. But she couldn¡¯t deny that Vomi had saved their lives, had made sure they had a chance to get Thiago out alive.

    ¡°I hope she¡¯s got answers,¡± Raven muttered to herself, pressing harder on Thiago¡¯s wound as another surge of blood leaked through the cloth.

    ¡°She will,¡± Blaze said from the front, his voice low but certain. ¡°She¡¯s not gonna let this slide.¡±

    Raven nodded, though her thoughts remained tangled. Vomi¡¯s power, that thing¡­ it changed everything. They weren¡¯t just a band anymore. They weren¡¯t just dealing with gigs and street trash. They were now tangled in corpo warfare, and there was no walking away from that.

    ¡°She better. ¡®Cause if KanedaCorp¡¯s got a vendetta, this is just the beginning,¡± Raven said, her voice tight as she focused on Thiago, her bandmate barely hanging on.

    The van finally skidded to a halt in front of a dingy clinic, the glowing neon sign reading "Ripperdoc" flickering in the night. Blaze leapt out first, banging on the door. "We need help! He''s critical!"

    The door swung open, and the ripperdoc, a grizzled man with chrome arms and dark circles under his eyes, motioned them inside. "Bring him in, now! I''ve got a table ready."

    Heitor carried Thiago inside with Raven¡¯s help, the ripperdoc already prepping his tools. ¡°This ain¡¯t gonna be pretty,¡± the doc said, glancing at Thiago¡¯s wound. ¡°But I¡¯ve seen worse.¡±

    Raven held back, watching as the ripperdoc¡¯s assistants rushed to prep Thiago for emergency surgery. Blaze stood beside her, shotgun still in hand, his expression grim. Katie clung to Heitor, her small voice barely audible.

    ¡°Is¡­ is Dad going to be okay?¡±

    Heitor knelt down beside her, wiping a tear from her cheek. ¡°He¡¯s tough, Katie. He¡¯s going to pull through.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Raven wanted to believe that, but the truth was, none of them could be sure. All they could do now was wait.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±, Nieme asked to no one in particular, although everyone got what he was saying.

    ¡°Did¡­ did Vomi always hod that¡­ thing?¡±, Blaze inquired, still utterly terrified. Just remembering the scene made him shiver.

    ¡°Now her song makes sense.¡±, Heitor clenched his fists, ¡°It says ¡®all these voices inside my head¡¯. No wonder why it was so¡­ eeriely.¡±

    ¡°Let''s not jump to conclusions.¡±, Raven called everyone''s attention, ¡°I will admit that¡­ I can''t really look at her in the best light right now, especially since the Black Daggers came from KanedaCorp¡­ But! The point is, we are in the middle of a corpo war.¡±

    ¡°More like a corpo battle.¡±, Heitor put Katie on a chair since his arms were getting tired, ¡°M-Tech and K-Corp. Whatever they are up to, Vomi put us in it.¡±

    Katie listened with half an ear until now, the fact that her father would be fine if Vomi didn''t put them through this¡­ it spiked her heart a bit.

    Katie''s tiny body trembled as she sat on the chair, processing the grown-ups'' words. They were speaking quietly, but her ears picked up enough to know what they were really saying.

    Vomi put us in danger. Dad¡¯s hurt because of her.

    Raven caught Katie¡¯s worried gaze and softened her voice. ¡°Katie, your dad¡¯s gonna be okay. The doc¡¯s working on him right now. You did great staying brave.¡±

    Katie nodded, but the flicker of doubt in her green eyes didn¡¯t fade. She wasn''t just a kid who could be easily distracted. She was smart enough to piece together the reality of what was happening.

    Blaze sat beside Katie, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Raven¡¯s right. Thiago¡¯s one tough bastard, he''ll pull through this. He¡¯s fought worse odds."

    Raven, on the other hand, felt the weight of the conversation they had to have about Vomi. She couldn¡¯t deny the chilling image of Animus¡ªthe way Vomi tore through the Black Daggers. It wasn¡¯t just a power, it was something much darker, much more dangerous. Raven didn¡¯t want to distrust Vomi, but she couldn¡¯t ignore that whatever Vomi had unleashed was nothing short of a monster.

    ¡°Look,¡± she said, turning back to Blaze, Nieme, and Heitor. ¡°We don¡¯t know the whole picture. Vomi saved our asses back there. I won¡¯t lie though, the thing inside her¡­¡± She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. ¡°¡­we need to understand what¡¯s really going on. Not just the power, but how we got caught in the crossfire of KanedaCorp.¡±

    Heitor sighed, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. ¡°KanedaCorp didn¡¯t just come out of nowhere. They¡¯ve been looking for a chance to hit someone big. Vomi must¡¯ve done something that put us in their sights. But we were blind. None of us saw this coming.¡±

    Raven¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Whatever the reason, we can¡¯t just let this slide. We need answers, and Vomi¡¯s the only one who knows the truth.¡±

    The door to the operating room swung open, and the ripperdoc emerged, wiping his hands on a bloodstained rag. He looked at them with a grim expression, but there was something softer in his tone. ¡°He¡¯ll make it. I¡¯ve stabilized him, but he¡¯s gonna need a couple of days to recover. Whatever you got yourselves into, I¡¯d suggest you keep him out of it for a while.¡±

    Katie let out a soft gasp, relief washing over her, but her eyes quickly darted toward the others as if she was still unsure if things were really okay.

    ¡°Thank you, doc,¡± Blaze said, exhaling a long breath. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s safe.¡±

    As the tension in the room shifted slightly, Raven walked over to Katie, crouching down in front of her. ¡°You heard him, kid. Your dad¡¯s gonna be fine. He just needs a bit of rest, alright?¡±

    Katie nodded slowly, her lips trembling. ¡°But¡­ what about Vomi? Is she gonna be okay?¡±

    Raven paused. The truth was, she didn¡¯t know if Vomi would be okay¡ªnot after what they¡¯d seen. Not after the war she had dragged them into.

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out,¡± Raven promised, though it felt like a hollow assurance.

    As they gathered themselves, Blaze spoke up, his voice rough. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan now? Do we wait for Vomi to come back, or do we go after KanedaCorp ourselves?¡±

    ¡°Going after a corpo? Yeah, because that worked for Silverhand before.¡±, Nieme snarked, although the humor was poorly timed.

    Raven stood, her eyes hardening. ¡°We wait for Vomi. She¡¯s got answers, and we¡¯re not going in blind. But when she shows up, we¡¯re going to have a long talk.¡±

    There was a beat of silence as the group processed the weight of the situation. They had survived the initial hit, but the next move was coming. And this time, they¡¯d be ready.

    <hr>

    Unknown Residential Area, three hours later

    Vanguard was just an expectator, watching as the onslaught on one of the many Black Daggers were destroyed. He wanted to warn Vomi that this is destroying them, making them a lesser version of themselves, but if he stopped his efforts to prevent the scientist from losing control to Animus, then that''s the point of no return. It was just death, senseless killing, not killing out of necessity or for a job, not even killing out of indulgence, but out of sadness. She was hurt, so Vomi wanted to hurt them back, with even greater force than whatever the Daggers could possibly do.

    Even Vomi''s thought were lazer focus:

    Door. Break through. Targets spotted. Fifteen in total. Jump. Claw. Dodge incoming bullets. Tendril whip. Decapitation.

    Just to name a few. Acting on pure instinct.

    Vanguard''s presence felt like a whisper in the back of Vomi''s mind, one she could barely hear over the pounding rhythm of her own rage. Each step she took, each swing of Animus, was driven by a single, consuming thought: make them pay.

    Blood sprayed across the walls as another Black Dagger crumpled to the floor, his body torn apart by Animus''s tendrils. Vomi barely registered his screams, her focus entirely on the next target. The warehouse was a maze of chaos, filled with the stench of blood, gunpowder, and desperation. It was no longer a calculated fight¡ªit was a slaughter.

    Vanguard wanted to shout, to pull her back from this, but the effort it took to keep her tethered to any semblance of control left him too weak to intervene fully. All he could do was watch and try to prevent Animus from consuming her completely.

    ¡°This isn''t you,¡± Vanguard thought, even though he knew she couldn''t hear him through the haze of fury. ¡°They''re already dead. You''re just tearing yourself apart.¡±

    But Vomi wasn''t listening. She wasn''t even registering it.

    ¡°They hurt my friends. They hurt Thiago. They deserve this.¡±

    Animus surged again, tendrils lashing out and slamming another Dagger against the wall. Bones cracked under the pressure, but Vomi didn''t flinch, her gaze already moving to the next. Vanguard''s voice echoed in her subconscious, but it was barely a whisper against the roar of vengeance.

    ¡°Focus, Vomi,¡± Vanguard pleaded silently. ¡°This will break you. Break us.¡±

    But Vomi''s thoughts were all-consuming.

    ¡°More. There''s more. I can hear them. I can smell their fear.¡±

    Animus tore through the next thug, and Vomi moved swiftly, almost a blur of monstrous efficiency. For a moment, the rage faltered as she reached a clearing in the carnage. Her breath heaved, and for the first time, Vomi blinked, realizing what she''d done. The floor was slick with blood, bodies littered in every direction.

    The silence after the slaughter was deafening.

    ¡°This¡­¡± Vanguard tried to breach her thoughts again, ¡°This isn''t justice. You''re better than this, Vomi.¡±

    Vomi''s chest tightened as Animus pulsed beneath her skin, still eager for more. She could feel the symbiote''s hunger, urging her to keep going, to finish the job. But as she looked around at the broken, bleeding bodies, something inside her recoiled.

    Slowly, she withdrew, forcing Animus back. The monstrous form receded, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the carnage, trembling. Her fists unclenched, but still too tense for feel relaxed in any conceivable way.

    "Vomi..." Vanguard''s voice was louder now, no longer just an echo but a steady presence. "You need to come back.¡±

    Why was his voice full of¡­ pain? Like¡­ he was sore from all of this?

    She took a shaky breath, realizing how deep she''d gone. The rage hadn''t just been hers¡ªit was Animus, amplifying her grief, her anger, until she couldn''t tell where she ended and it began. Vomi looked down at her hands, stained with blood, and for a moment, she wasn''t sure if they were hers anymore.

    But dear God, Vomi would be lying if the feeling wasn''t good.

    Vanguard''s presence grew stronger, steadying her thoughts. "You need to return to your friends. They need you."

    Vomi''s chest tightened. She had to face them. Raven. Blaze. Katie. Thiago. How could she explain this? How could they look at her and not see the monster she had become?

    ¡°What will they think about me if I go back?¡±, She asked, kicking one of the Black Daggers¡¯ corpses to the wall.

    ¡°What will they think if you don''t?¡±, Vanguard replied instantly, still in that same pained voice, ¡°If we don''t explain what we are, it will lead to conjecture, which will lead to fear. They are your friends, they deserve to know something.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    Before anything could be said further, the door to the hideout opened. Vomi immediately holds back Animus'' urge to kill, her face grimacing at just the intrusive thoughts of blood. To their surprise, it wasn''t more gangsters, but actually corporate suits, who slowly approached her and the overall slaughterhouse that the place was. One of them was finishing a call with his agent, if the gold glow in his eyes is anything to go about. Whatever the corpos were discussing, Vomi couldn''t even focus since Animus was about to burst out and kill anything that dared to move.

    ¡°Dr. Vomi Kurosaki, it is a pleasure to meet you.¡±, The man said in a corpo-like way, ¡°You have quite the resume, and the skills. Be them yours or from your¡­ parasites.¡±

    Animus almost left her body, the tendrils and appendages lashing out hitting the roof and the ground, but they vanished as quickly as they appeared.

    ¡°Fuck¡­¡±, Vomi tried to hold herself together, noticing that Vanguard wasn''t talking, ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°That''s irrelevant.¡±, He shook his head, the other corporate suits with guns at their hands, ¡°What matters is that my CEO wants to meet you. He is in charge of developing a massive project that could turn the tides to our favor, however you stole a key component of such craft.¡±

    ¡°What¡­?¡±

    ¡°First, Ascendant Innovations, data that could be easily re-created or re-stolen. But then you decided to go after KanedaCorp. That wasn''t a wise decision.¡± The man paced around the room, inspecting half-heartedly the corpses in there, ¡°You see, there is this philosophy about Transhumanism and its effects on society. The entire NUSA can be the cause of it, as Militech basically funds the entire country. Same about the laws that don''t regulate Cyberware access, despite it being just as easy to become a cyberpsycho. All of that helps towards transhumanism, and I am sure if you poke around you can dig more and more details that support this theory.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡±, Vomi managed to reply, although still struggling with her own predicament.

    ¡°Simple. You are an anomaly to our world. Something unknown. A perfect and successful experiment of Transcendence. Instead of enhancing artificially through cyberware, you enhanced your biological mass and evolved in aspects that the average person could only dream of buying in the closed Ripperdoc.¡±, He said, kneeling in front of Vomi, ¡°Although, if you want a deeper explanation, we will require you to come with us.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because this thing here¡­¡±, He poked Vomi''s chest, not caring at all about the symbiote trying to leave, ¡°...can be solved, IF you come with us. Sensei Kaneda will love to talk with you.¡±

    ¡°KanedaCorp. Of course.¡±, She mumbled.

    Vomi clenched her fists, her breathing labored as she fought to keep Animus in check. The mere mention of KanedaCorp sent a wave of anger rippling through her. They were behind everything¡ªThiago¡¯s injury, the attack on her friends, and now this strange corporate pursuit. She couldn¡¯t tell if the offer was genuine or just another trap, but her mind raced, torn between survival and the potential to finally understand what she had become.

    ¡°You really think I¡¯m going to come with you after all this?¡± Vomi spat, her voice a low growl. ¡°After your people nearly killed my friend?¡±

    The corporate man didn¡¯t flinch, keeping his tone calm and condescending. ¡°You misunderstand. It¡¯s not about you coming willingly or not. It¡¯s about inevitability. Your evolution is¡­remarkable, but uncontrolled. KanedaCorp can help. And if you¡¯re smart, you¡¯ll realize that this might be your only chance to find out what you truly are.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed, her body trembling with barely contained rage. Animus flared beneath her skin, begging to be released, to tear through this arrogant suit standing in front of her. But Vanguard¡¯s voice broke through the haze again, weak but insistent.

    ¡°Vomi¡­ don¡¯t let them pull you in. You¡¯ve already seen how they manipulate everything. You know they¡¯ll just use you.¡±

    She bit her lip, letting the words sink in, ¡°I know. But we¡­ are barely keeping together as it is¡­ If they can help¡ª¡±

    ¡°Vomi¡­¡±, Vang pleaded. Something he never did before. Not like this.

    That caused her to convulse, the tendrils left her body again, but not chaotically. She targeted furniture, the corpses, AC units of whatever it wasn''t alive to lash out some of her¡ªor Animus¡¯¡ªanger. Why did it need to be this way? Why did this world always come back to the corporations? Why is it that there''s no possibility of a happy ending? Can''t have shit in Cyberpunk. Can''t be happy, can''t be decently wealthy, can''t be safe, can''t be cute, can''t show weakness, can''t, can''t, can''t.

    ¡°Fuck this shit! This world only knows how to fucking break people!¡±

    ¡°Welcome to 2076, Dr. Vomi.¡±, The man replied with a condescending, yet understanding tone.

    Everyone vented this way one day or another.

    ¡°Kaneda, right?¡±, Vomi asked, the tendrils and red symbiote finally fully merging inside her skin, some semblance of humanity coming back to her, ¡°What does he want?¡±

    ¡°I ain''t allowed to say. But rest assured he will talk to you personally. This matter is one that was his responsibility long before your involvement.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ lead the way.¡±

    Vanguard wasn''t strong enough to object. He could only watch as Vomi was entering the AV heading towards the K-Corp building.

    As Vomi climbed into the AV, her body was tense, a coil of tightly wound emotions that threatened to snap at any moment. The cold, sleek interior of the corporate vehicle felt alien, sterile, compared to the blood-soaked battlefield she''d just left behind. The suits around her remained impassive, their faces unreadable as the vehicle hummed to life, lifting them off the ground.

    Vanguard¡¯s presence flickered weakly in her mind. He was exhausted, barely holding on after everything she had unleashed. She could feel him, a faint thread of consciousness, but even he couldn¡¯t offer much guidance now.

    "I¡¯m sorry," Vomi thought, her mind reaching out to him. "I didn¡¯t mean for it to go this far."

    There was no response, but she could sense his exhaustion, the strain of keeping Animus in check while she tore through the Black Daggers. A part of her wanted to scream, to lash out again, but she couldn¡¯t. Not now. Not in front of these corpo goons.

    The AV soared through the city, cutting through the neon haze of San Francisco¡¯s skyline. Vomi stared out the window, her thoughts racing. KanedaCorp. That weird place with the prototype symbiote, which turned out to be Animus, then the weird cyberdeck she and her crew stole for M-Tech.

    The man who had spoken earlier leaned forward in his seat, observing her with a thin, calculating smile. "I know you have questions, Dr. Kurosaki. And Kaneda has answers. But let me offer you some advice: don''t think of this as a negotiation. Think of it as¡­ an opportunity."

    Vomi clenched her fists. "You think you can manipulate me? Like I¡¯m just some pawn in your game? I work for M-Tech, I know how this game goes.¡±

    ¡°I am sure you do.¡±, The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Everyone¡¯s a pawn in someone¡¯s game, whether they realize it or not. The question is¡ªwhat kind of pawn do you want to be? One with power? Or one left in the dust?"

    The AV began its descent, hovering over a gleaming, high-tech skyscraper that bore the unmistakable logo of KanedaCorp. As they landed on the rooftop, Vomi felt a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. She was walking into the belly of the beast, and there was no telling what awaited her inside.

    As the doors slid open, the corporate suit gestured for her to step out. "Welcome to KanedaCorp, Dr. Kurosaki."

    Vomi didn¡¯t reply. She stepped out of the AV, her eyes scanning the rooftop, already calculating possible escape routes, though she knew it would be nearly impossible to get out of this place alive without a plan. The doors to the rooftop opened, and she was led into the sleek, cold halls of KanedaCorp, her heart pounding in her chest.

    Whatever they wanted, whatever answers they had, she had no choice but to face it head-on. But as she walked deeper into the heart of the building, one thought kept echoing in her mind: What have I gotten myself into?

    And all Vanguard could do was watch silently, his energy too spent to intervene further.

 Chapter 24: Black days

    Cinthia Lowhental

    Cinthia, Raven''s bright neon sister, caught wind of the Black Daggers mess in no time. The news hit hard, but what really burned her up was Raven ghosting her again. No ping, no holo, nada¡ªjust the usual radio silence. Cinthia was wrecked, but her main chip-trace was Raven¡¯s safety. She knew about the big show coming up and the last pre-gig jam session. She¡¯d even thought about showing up unannounced but ditched the idea since their sib-sitch wasn¡¯t exactly ice.

    That plan went out the window the second she heard about the heat.

    She ditched her spot¡ªa real house, not just some coffin hotel¡ªgrabbed her ride, and punched it, headed straight for Raven. She spammed The Refused¡¯s chat asking where Raven was. Nieme was the only one who replied, telling her they were at a ripperdoc''s. That sent her anxiety into overdrive. He calmed her down a bit, saying Raven was fine, but Thiago? Flatlining, almost. And worst of all, it happened right in front of his kid.

    Katie lost her mom already, and the thought of her nearly becoming an orphan sparked some serious wrath in Cinthia. Vomi went to handle those Black Dagger gonk-heads, but no word from her for hours. The tension was real. When Cinthia finally pulled up outside the doc¡¯s clinic, she bolted towards Raven. Even if she wasn¡¯t ready for the sudden hug, she braced herself to not drop like a glitching bot.

    ¡°Raven!¡± she called out, ¡°Why the hell do you always get into these scrapes?!¡±

    ¡°Watch it,¡± Raven warned, keeping Cinthia at arm¡¯s length, still drenched in blood¡ªmostly Thiago¡¯s.

    ¡°You good?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m nova. Just¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cinthia glanced at Katie, the kid just zoning out, staring at the ceiling.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were coming,¡± Heitor chimed in, offering Cinthia a hand.

    ¡°Nieme¡¯s doing,¡± she said, shaking his hand as Nieme¡¯s head turned at the mention of his name.

    ¡°Really?¡± Raven shot him a glare.

    ¡°What? She¡¯s got a right to know you¡¯re still breathing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, family love and all, but let¡¯s not forget,¡± Blaze cut in, ¡°We¡¯re all still flat in the dark about what the hell went down. And more important, we gotta delta out of here. Not exactly safe to chat.¡±

    ¡°And Katie?¡± Cinthia asked, pointing out the obvious.

    ¡°She sticks with us for now,¡± Heitor said, scooping the kid up in one motion. She didn¡¯t even hesitate. ¡°Blaze, stay back, keep an eye for any more of those Black Dagger scavs. We¡¯ll loop you in later.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Blaze nodded. ¡°C-YA.¡±

    Raven motioned for the crew to follow. ¡°We can talk at my pad. Ain¡¯t too far.¡±

    They split from the clinic, cruising at a steady clip, but the air was thick, like someone was tailing them. Gangs or corpos, who knows? Paranoia? Maybe. Either way, the streets were never silent. Raven drove the van with Heitor and Katie, while Cinthia followed in her car, Nieme riding shotgun. The drive wasn¡¯t long, but it felt like a lifetime with tension simmering beneath the surface. Raven¡¯s apartment in the Megabuilding was standard rent-a-cube, though the entertainment setup was premium.

    ¡°Alright, everyone here?¡± Raven asked, collapsing onto the couch with a tired sigh.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Heitor confirmed, gently placing Katie on the couch and handing her the remote for the entertainment system. ¡°Find something good to watch, alright?¡±

    Katie nodded absentmindedly, eyes already glued to the screen, but you could tell her mind wasn¡¯t really there.

    Nieme leaned in and broke the silence first, whispering, ¡°Alright, what the actual fuck? How¡¯d the Daggers even scope out our spot?¡±

    Raven rubbed her temples, still processing. ¡°I don¡¯t know, choom. We were clean. No leaks, no slip-ups. But they hit us like they knew exactly where to find us. Could be corpos playing puppet masters behind the scenes. Could be someone close to us with loose lips.¡±

    Cinthia, still standing, crossed her arms. ¡°Corpos or not, it smells like someone sold you out. You sure none of your crew¡¯s been chin-wagging where they shouldn¡¯t?¡±

    Heitor shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve kept my optics open. Everyone in the crew¡¯s tight. No way any of us would sell out, not after what we¡¯ve been through. But the timing¡­ it¡¯s too perfect. Feels like they had eyes on us for a while.¡±

    Nieme leaned back, staring at the floor like he was running a tactical op in his head. ¡°I¡¯m thinking we got some serious recon on our hands. Gotta trace who¡¯s pulling the strings. This wasn''t just some street-level raid.¡±

    Raven looked at Nieme and nodded. ¡°If they had inside info, it wasn¡¯t random. Someone¡¯s feeding them intel.¡±

    Cinthia clenched her jaw. ¡°Vomi¡¯s out there dealing with those gonk-heads, but she¡¯s been MIA for too long. We need to know what she¡¯s found. And fast.¡±

    Raven bit her lip, glancing at the door. ¡°If Vomi doesn''t check in soon, we¡¯re gonna have to pull her out ourselves. But first, we need to scrub our comms, our hideouts, everything. If they found us once, they¡¯ll find us again.¡±

    Nieme stepped closer, lowering his voice even more. ¡°Who do you think it could be? I don¡¯t wanna start pointing fingers, but¡­ we¡¯re missing something.¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start from square one,¡± Heitor said, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and sitting down. ¡°Why exactly did the Daggers come after Raven the first time?¡±

    ¡°The Refugees were people I trusted,¡± Raven said, eyes flicking toward Cinthia. ¡°They helped me out with some things¡­ mostly because of you.¡±

    Cinthia ignored the jab, too focused on getting answers. ¡°Fine, I get it. You don¡¯t want anything to do with the Green Rhythm. But why would the Daggers target those people? What could they have done to get that kind of heat?¡±

    Heitor leaned forward, his tone firm. ¡°They don¡¯t make a move unless there¡¯s serious eddies or a way to upgrade their cyberdecks. So what¡¯s the real deal here?¡±

    Raven sighed, leaning back as her eyes narrowed. ¡°The Daggers don¡¯t hit randoms, you¡¯re right. They¡¯re always after profit or tech. I thought it was just a messy business deal at first, but now... it¡¯s bigger. They want something else.¡±

    Cinthia stepped in closer, arms crossed tight. ¡°What could they want from you that¡¯s worth this kind of trouble? And don¡¯t hold back. If you¡¯re hiding something, now¡¯s the time to spill.¡±

    ¡°Shit, fine.¡± Raven growled, visibly annoyed. ¡°I was working on a deal, one that probably caught some unwanted attention. I was helping out some Refugees, but I doubt that alone would spark all this.¡±

    ¡°What kind of deal are we talkin¡¯ about?¡± Nieme asked, voice sharp as he pushed for answers.

    Raven hesitated, then finally spat it out. ¡°A deal for SynthCoke.¡±

    ¡°The fuck?¡± Cinthia blurted, disbelief written all over her face. ¡°You know that stuff fries your brain, right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point right now.¡±

    ¡°The hell it isn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Cinthia,¡± Heitor cut in, his voice authoritative, ¡°I get it¡ªdrugs are bad. But that¡¯s not what matters right now. We¡¯ve got two major groups gunning for us. We need to stay focused.¡±

    Cinthia bit back her argument, crossing her arms tighter but letting it go for now.

    ¡°Why would a drug deal put you in the Daggers¡¯ crosshairs?¡± Nieme asked, still not seeing the full picture.

    ¡°Because the Refugees I helped? They¡¯re ex-Corpos. They¡¯re trying to live off the grid as street mercs, but they still got the chrome, the skills, and the knowledge. Helping them painted a target on me,¡± Raven explained, tugging at her jacket. ¡°But even that doesn¡¯t explain why the Black Daggers would hit all of us. Coming after me solo? Sure. But the whole crew? That¡¯s what I don¡¯t get.¡±

    Heitor leaned back, connecting the dots. ¡°Alright, so we¡¯ve got their attention. But if what I overheard back at the warehouse is right, the Daggers came after us on KanedaCorp¡¯s orders. Which means this is tied to Vomi.¡±

    Katie turned her head from the TV, now tuned into the conversation.

    ¡°Wait, why would KanedaCorp be involved?¡± Raven asked, eyes narrowing.

    ¡°We hit a gig for M-Tech.¡±

    ¡°You did a job for a corpo? What the hell?¡± Nieme¡¯s voice dripped with venom, making the rest of the room uncomfortable.

    ¡°I know how you feel about corpos, Nieme. Believe me, I get it. But the job was solid. Full crew, clean hit, and we got paid right on time. The only problem? We didn¡¯t cover our tracks as well as we thought.¡± Heitor grimaced, clearly frustrated with himself. He was the seasoned pro, and such a mistake weighed heavy on him.

    ¡°And what exactly was the job?¡± Cinthia sighed, equally displeased with the news.

    ¡°Stealing a prototype cyberdeck. Vomi was the lead netrunner, along with Sasha, another deck jockey. Carmine drove¡ªguy cared more about his ride than his life. Blaze and I were muscle.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so Blaze was in on this too,¡± Raven groaned, her tone sarcastic, frustration mounting.

    ¡°Sorry for not looping you in sooner. Vomi set up the gig; we wrapped it last week. Figured it wouldn¡¯t come back to bite us.¡±

    ¡°Alright, but what exactly went down?¡±

    Heitor grabbed a few utensils, setting them up on the table as a makeshift map. ¡°So, here¡¯s the layout. This cyberdeck was en route to a safehouse for stashing, maybe some testing. We planned an ambush on the convoy to hit fast¡ªflatline whoever needed it, then bounce.¡± He pointed to the utensils. ¡°Vomi and Carmine were in the car. Sasha was plugged in remotely from her place. Blaze and I were rolling on his bike, ready to jam things up with a homemade EMP.¡±

    ¡°An EMP? Don¡¯t those mess with your chrome?¡± Cinthia cut in.

    ¡°Most of my chrome¡¯s just my agent, so no big deal for me. Blaze¡¯s arms, though, yeah, it¡¯s a risk. But it also meant I had to drop off a moving vehicle to avoid getting fried. Hurt like hell, but it stopped ¡®em in their tracks. Then Carmine pulls up, we clear everyone¡­ except, didn¡¯t check the main cargo. Damn turret almost blew my head clean off.¡±

    ¡°Holy shit. That sounds like a nightmare.¡± Nieme cringed, picturing it.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got a mangled arm to prove it.¡±

    ¡°So, what next?¡± Raven asked.

    ¡°Vomi and Carmine come in hot¡ªVomi with that custom rifle of hers. But there¡¯s a Cyber Guard on board, and it got messy fast. Vomi caught a punch that¡¯d drop a borg, somehow shrugged it off. Sasha, she Quick Hacked their netrunner from her place just in time to fry the Guard¡¯s chrome. I grabbed a guard¡¯s shotgun, finally put down the Cyber Guard.¡±

    ¡°Then you all delta and meet up?¡± Cinthia clarified, piecing it together.

    ¡°Yeah. We sold the cyberdeck, got paid, and then everyone lay low. That¡¯s my end of it. Now, if KanedaCorp¡¯s got a bone to pick, and the Daggers are doing their dirty work, then they¡¯re after all of us.¡±

    Raven clenched her fists. ¡°But how¡¯d they zero in on us so fast?¡±

    Nieme raised his hand, thinking it through. ¡°I think it¡¯s a mix of stuff. BDs get hit all the time¡ªgangs, street punks, corpos skimming data from JoyToys. KanedaCorp¡¯s no different; they¡¯d scope a gang like the Daggers if it suited ¡®em. Plus, we¡¯re talking a gang full of wannabe netrunners. All it¡¯d take is one pro in their ranks.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­¡± Raven¡¯s face fell. ¡°So even the SFPD¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, probably that too.¡±

    Cinthia sighed, piecing it all together. ¡°So it¡¯s one misstep after another piling up. We were practically handing them breadcrumbs.¡±

    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Heitor muttered, shaking his head.

    The team got a ping from Blaze, which immediately put them on edge. Katie, who had been quietly listening, was trying to piece together what all this meant for her dad. Why did he have to get hurt when he was just a guy who loved music? Had Vomi really caused all this chaos? Katie thought back to the terrifying transformation she¡¯d seen. Could the woman she looked up to really be responsible?

    "Hey, chooms, Blaze here," Blaze¡¯s voice crackled over the line.

    "What happened?" Raven asked tersely.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    "Our guy Thiago¡¯s stable. I¡¯m moving him to a place with the doc¡¯s help, got it all covered. He¡¯ll be out cold for a few days¡­ but he¡¯s safe," Blaze said, though his tone held a hint of sadness despite the reassurance.

    "Thanks. Just keep him safe," Raven replied.

    "Don''t worry. I¡¯ll look after him." Blaze tried to sound upbeat, but the strain was clear. "How¡¯s Katie?"

    Raven glanced over at Katie, who had been listening quietly, her face pale. "She¡¯s hanging in there. Shocked, I think, but she¡¯s holding up."

    "Yeah, I figured. Can¡¯t blame her." Blaze¡¯s voice softened. "Listen, I¡¯m gonna lay low at someone else¡¯s place. Can¡¯t risk our usual spots anymore."

    "Good idea. Stay safe. None of our places are secure now."

    "Roger that. C-YA."

    With the call ended, everyone looked at Raven from instructions. Heitor might be the best fitted leader for this situation, but Raven has been the one making the calls for a long time, Heitor himself not wanting to take the reins.

    ¡°Look, we will wait for Vomi. There isn''t much we can actually do. Can we crash at your place, Cin?"

    Cinthia thought about it for a second, ¡°I don''t see any problems. Although I won''t be there most of the time. Green Rhythm stuff.¡±

    ¡°That''s as good as we can get.¡±, Nieme said, picking up a backpack, ¡°I promise I won''t make a mess of your apartment.¡±

    ¡°I don''t have an apartment?¡±

    ¡°Cinthia has a house.¡±, Raven clarified.

    ¡°Wait what?¡±

    ¡°Preem and all, but let''s focus.¡±, Heitor picked up Katie again, ¡°Pick up the necessary and then we go. Sorry for all this bother, Cinthia.¡±

    ¡°No problem. I can''t let my sis be alone, after all.¡±, She said with a playful wink.

    Raven just groaned.

    <hr>

    Kaneda Itadori

    Kaneda was a man of principles, a disciplined visionary, and a rare figure of integrity in the corporate world¡ªqualities so uncommon in the corporate warfare landscape that they might be nearly extinct. Yet, in contrast to typical corporate dogma, KanedaCorp remains unmatched in biochemistry and technological advancement, particularly in its strides toward safe testing practices. They obtained Blackwall files with minimal incidents, or at least few that reached public knowledge. They mastered symbiote lifeform directives, effectively integrating them with cyberware. Their record is, more often than not, one success after another.

    Of course, this comes at a cost.

    "Safe testing" is often a euphemism for "controlled failures with lessons learned," as countless minds have been lost to the Blackwall¡¯s data space and flesh to symbiote experiments. Scientists were eliminated to prevent information leaks, and guards replaced, removed, or reassigned to keep secrecy intact. Every detail, every process was under Kaneda¡¯s scrutiny to ensure the project¡¯s continued, unimpeded progress. Still, M-Tech managed to learn about the project¡ªand, even more troubling, successfully stole the prototype.

    The BD recording led them straight to a crucial data point¡ªa biological tracking signal originally designed to confirm the containment of symbiotes within controlled systems. Amusingly enough, this signal was now traced to Dr. Vomi Kurosaki, who had somehow bonded with a failed prototype, her very existence defying the project''s initial design. Kaneda understood that early successes in biological transformation often foreshadowed future instability; if it worked too well from the start, something was likely to go wrong soon.

    Her trail led them to a Black Daggers den, now a slaughterhouse. Losing members of the Daggers was a minor setback, replaceable. The true gain was their insight into Vomi¡¯s rapidly evolving, and clearly volatile, condition. She was not just adapting; she was transforming unpredictably, becoming the very proof of why KanedaCorp''s ¡°cure¡± was essential.

    KanedaCorp¡¯s interests, however, stretched beyond simply reining her in. They needed Cyberdeck Ouroboros returned to them, and who better to retrieve it than Vomi herself? Given her employment with M-Tech, she could slip in unnoticed¡ªno corporate espionage, just a matter of asset recovery through a convenient operative already in place.

    Kaneda waited calmly in his office. This meeting promised to be¡­ intriguing.

    The motion sensors detected movement, and the sleek doors slid open, revealing Vomi partially cloaked in the pulsing red symbiote. ¡°She¡¯s here,¡± one of the corporate aides announced.

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Kaneda replied, a hint of indifference masking the real interest he was feeling.

    Vomi stepped inside, her face slick with sweat, every muscle tensed, radiating a blend of nerves and barely contained desperation. She moved slowly toward the table, taking a moment to collect herself. Her hands went to her hair, matted and tangled, still streaked with the blood of the Black Daggers she''d torn through.

    Interestingly, her signature glasses were missing.

    ¡°You can go,¡± Kaneda instructed, and the suits obediently exited.

    Breathing heavily, Vomi steadied herself until she could finally lift her head. ¡°I¡­ heard you wanted to talk,¡± she said, her voice wavering despite the confidence she clearly wanted to project.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Kaneda replied, taking a seat and pouring himself a glass of a finely aged spirit.

    He even offered Vomi a glass, though she barely registered the gesture, too preoccupied with wrestling down whatever urges the symbiote was stirring in her mind. Kaneda merely shrugged, taking a small sip and leaving the glass half-full. ¡°Let me be direct, Dr. Vomi.¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± she managed, her voice straining.

    Perfect.

    ¡°What you believed was an M-Tech R&D facility was, in fact, one of our covert labs. It was positioned strategically, as no one from M-Tech would suspect it. Security footage ensured we knew exactly how, when, and by whom the building was accessed.¡± Kaneda gestured to his desk, which projected a 3D hologram of the lab he described. ¡°This facility housed Project Ouroboros. Due to the project¡¯s complexity and the constant instability of the subjects, we struggled to proceed as discreetly as we hoped.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ does that have to do with Takeo?¡± she asked, pausing to catch her breath mid-sentence.

    ¡°Takeo was a double agent. His task was simple: keep an eye on M-Tech so we could transfer the deck without notice. But it appears he had his own plans¡ªto see if the Cyberdeck was as powerful as rumored.¡± Kaneda shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his expression. ¡°He was quickly¡­ dealt with, after your associate Sasha returned him to us.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡± Vomi replied through gritted teeth, suppressing the pain. ¡°But¡­ why is this Cyberdeck so important to you?¡±

    Kaneda clasped his hands, a rare solemnity in his gaze. ¡°The biological fluid is my son¡¯s only chance. He¡¯s in a prototype cryostasis, kept alive for now. But his disease advances, and without a solution, his time will run out.¡±

    ¡°A corporate CEO¡­ caring about someone other than himself?¡± Vomi managed a weak laugh. ¡°What¡¯s next¡ªa politician who actually gives a damn about the common gonk?¡±

    Kaneda let the sarcasm roll off him, unaffected. Instead, he leaned forward, the faint flicker of a wry smile crossing his face. "I wouldn¡¯t expect you to understand my motives, Dr. Kurosaki. You operate on principles of loyalty and altruism¡ªadmirable, perhaps, but out of place in this world."

    Vomi forced herself to sit straighter, squaring her shoulders despite the strain on her body. "So, you¡¯re saying you¡¯re different because you¡¯re willing to sacrifice anything¡ªand anyone¡ªfor your cause? For your family?"

    Kaneda took another sip of his drink, pausing thoughtfully before answering. "Sacrifice¡­ it¡¯s an unfortunate necessity. The truth is, power in this world isn''t acquired through idealism; it¡¯s won through resilience, and sometimes ruthlessness." He studied her, his eyes cold yet calculating. "You, of all people, should appreciate that."

    Vomi¡¯s fists clenched, her gaze narrowing. "And you think that justifies using people as pawns? Turning lives into... collateral damage for some twisted legacy?"

    Kaneda¡¯s expression remained neutral, but his voice grew sharper. "Our world is built on systems that exploit and consume¡ªcorporate, political, societal. We only thrive if we master it. You¡¯ve seen firsthand what happens to those who fight against it without strategy, haven¡¯t you? People like your friend Thiago, or even you, barely scraping by in a world designed to devour the weak."

    The comment about Thiago hit hard, but Vomi refused to show it, meeting Kaneda¡¯s gaze head-on. "I might be in your office now, but don¡¯t mistake that for submission. I¡¯m not here to play into your vision of the world."

    A glint of intrigue sparked in Kaneda''s eyes. "You''re here because you want answers. And, as I said, I can offer them¡ªinsight into what you''ve become, a pathway to controlling it. The symbiote inside you, is a wild, potent force. But with the right modifications, I could refine it¡­ stabilize it. Help you reclaim control."

    Vomi exhaled slowly, her mind racing. Kaneda''s words were tempting. The symbiote, Animus, had already brought her to the brink of destruction, a deadly weight chained to her core. But the thought of aligning with Kaneda¡­ with the very entity that likely orchestrated half of her current miseries¡­

    "And the catch?" she asked, cutting through the tension. "What is it you want from me in return?"

    "Return the Cyberdeck Ouroboros. Bring it back, and the symbiote will be stabilized," Kaneda replied, his gaze unwavering. "You¡¯re in a unique position, Dr. Kurosaki. You know the inside of M-Tech. You understand its layouts, its weak points. I don¡¯t expect you to like this, but I do expect you to recognize the¡­ opportunity.¡±

    Vomi felt a chill spread through her, the weight of the offer pressing on her shoulders. "You¡¯re not giving me much of a choice, are you?"

    Kaneda leaned back in his chair, an almost sympathetic smile on his lips. "There''s always a choice, Dr. Kurosaki. But in a world like ours, sometimes the choice isn''t between good and bad¡­ just between survival and oblivion."

    Vomi scoffed. ¡°Damn it. I hate that I actually agree with you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m simply stating the facts.¡±

    ¡°One question.¡± She straightened, the symbiote creeping further over her body, molding into a pattern that almost mirrored its clothes. ¡°Did you order the Black Daggers to attack us?¡±

    Kaneda met her gaze, unflinching under the accusation. ¡°I did not. While they receive corporate funding from my organization, I gave no such directive against you or your¡­ associates. It seems they acted on their own accord.¡±

    ¡°Convenient,¡± Vomi replied, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll get your damn deck.¡±

    Kaneda nodded, his tone even. ¡°I¡¯m a man of my word, Dr. Kurosaki. Ruthless, perhaps, but fair.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± She turned to leave, her clothing now completely overtaken by the organic matter of the symbiote. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you updated.¡±

    Kaneda watched her go, a quiet satisfaction behind his gaze. Another deadly mission awaited her, this time with survival hinging on every step¡ªand she knew it.

    <hr>

    Eduardo Carmine

    Carmine was just relaxing at Vomi''s apartment, not having been assigned any counter-intel or gigs. So, he took the opportunity to binge-watch shows he''d missed while locked up. Catching up on Associates was a nice change- last he saw, the main cast had taken in a prototype artificial monkey with a knack for painting, which his new owners exploited to earn extra eddies.

    Classic trope, but he couldn''t complain.

    Suddenly, he got a call from a familiar face, though he''d never shared his agent number.

    "Hey, Heitor, my choom. What''s up?¡±

    "Carmine? Where are you? Some serious shit just went down," Heitor''s voice was tense, nearly shouting before pulling back at the last second.

    "Uh, what? What''s going on?" Carmine asked, caught off guard by Heitor''s urgency.

    "Where are you? Just tell me that first."

    "I''m at Vomi''s place. Why?"

    "Get out of there. Now," Heitor ordered, sounding like a cop dealing with a rowdy inmate.

    "Hey, watch the tone!" Carmine shot back, annoyed at being ordered around. "What the hell happened?¡±

    Heitor sighed but answered. "The Black Daggers attacked us. Our apartments and usual spots aren''t safe. Leave, fast."

    "The Black Daggers?" Carmine''s demeanor shifted. "Shit, that''s bad."

    With barely anything of his own at Vomi''s place, he got up, keeping the call active as he hit the elevator.

    "Good. We''ve got a semi-safe spot for now. Just make sure you''re not followed.¡±

    "I can handle that, but thanks for the reminder," Carmine replied, punching the elevator button.

    "I''ll explain everything later. It''s worse than we thought."

    "Got it. Until then."

    The elevator doors closed and started descending slowly, somehow making the danger feel even closer. When the doors opened, a gonk was tampering with the building''s systems, likely trying to access the cameras. Without thinking, Carmine grabbed the revolver Vomi had given him and shot him right in the head¡ªa Black Dagger Netrunner. A few minutes later, and it could''ve been Carmine lying flatlined.

    Of course, he wasn''t alone. More Black Daggers stood further down the corridor.

    "Shit."

    Carmine hit the floor, rolling into cover as bullets ripped through the elevator, narrowly missing him. Thankfully, he was still in one piece. But Netrunners were a bigger threat than street punks; any one of them could fry his chrome with just a Quick Hack. And as far as he knew, that was a beginner''s trick.

    Carmine took a steadying breath, running through his options. He had no cyberdeck, and hacking was out of the question, especially since his own cyberware couldn¡¯t stand a full-on attack. He took a quick glance around the corner: three Black Daggers, guns raised, and ready to kill. They wouldn¡¯t need to budge an inch to send him straight back to a morgue. The narrow hallway didn¡¯t leave him much cover; staying put was a quick way to get lit up.

    His mind raced. If he tried to shoot back, he¡¯d be a sitting duck in the narrow corridor. And thanks to the camera right above him, the Netrunners didn¡¯t even need to risk exposure. No, he¡¯d have to move¡ªand fast. A window loomed to his left. He eyed it, noting the drop.

    Huh...

    It was a terrible idea.

    But he had no better options.

    Without a second thought, Carmine launched himself through the window, feeling the rush of wind and a sudden jolt as he crashed into the stairwell a few floors down. The impact was brutal, but he¡¯d made it. He was still in the megabuilding, but now he was on a much wider staircase with more room to move.

    ¡°He went through the window!¡±

    ¡°Get him!¡±

    Their shouts echoed from above. Carmine rolled to his feet, shaking off the sharp sting of landing wrong. He glanced at the stairwell, noting it spiraled both upward and downward. If he went up, he¡¯d risk running straight back into the Daggers. Going down was risky too, but he didn¡¯t have time to think it over.

    He sprinted down, heart pounding as he tried to put distance between himself and his pursuers. Just as he rounded a corner, he spotted an access door¡ªa maintenance room, probably. He burst in, slamming it shut behind him. The room was cramped, filled with pipes, electrical panels, and tools.

    The footsteps grew louder, but they''d need to open the door first. As soon as the handle turned, Carmine fired off another round, painting the wall in a crimson splash. It was almost poetic, the way it exploded like a melon, though Carmine couldn''t remember ever seeing one in person. Ah well, details.

    The other two Daggers hesitated, immediately pulling back to avoid his line of fire. Carmine took advantage of the pause, grabbing the closest gonk who tried to retreat. He pressed his revolver to the guy''s head, quickly rummaging through his pockets and pulling out a frag grenade. Then, with a swift kick to the hostage''s back and a shot for good measure, he threw the grenade at the remaining Dagger.

    He made sure to cook it, counting down to ensure it''d detonate right on impact. The explosion was blinding, a supernova of shrapnel and blood that painted the corridor in visceral reds and blacks. Carmine ducked, barely dodging the burst as he scrambled to reload his iron. This night was turning out to be more than he bargained for.

    With a final check of the bodies, he darted down the stairwell, moving fast. This was just the start of whatever tangled conspiracy he''d fallen into, and Heitor might be his only chance to get answers. As he reached the garage, a parked car caught his eye-a convenient opportunity to bypass probation. Without a second thought, he forced his way inside, hotwired the engine, and slammed his foot on the gas, tearing out of the garage and into the neon-lit streets.

    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Carmine muttered, his fingers drumming uncontrollably on the steering wheel. ¡°Jesus¡­ this is nuts.¡±

    One minute he was binge-watching some trash TV, just easing back into things, and the next he was in full survival mode, adrenaline tearing through him like he¡¯d been shot up with something nasty. His hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking, practically rattling as he held the wheel. Vomi was right about him¡ªkeeping it together wasn¡¯t exactly his strong suit. Any longer back there, and he¡¯d have likely made a mistake that would¡¯ve turned him into a smear on the pavement.

    But he was alive, at least. So¡­ a point for survival? A participation trophy, maybe?

    He shook his head, grumbling, and pressed harder on the gas, steering through the gritty streets. He kept his eyes sharp, glancing in the rearview every few seconds, checking for any sign of the Daggers or, really, anyone looking to cause trouble. The address Heitor had sent him was far away, so a few minutes before true safety. The city whirled by, dark and chaotic, lit by neon and packed with danger at every turn.

    He needed to reach that safehouse. Soon.

 Chapter 25: At Dooms Gate

    Vanguard couldn¡¯t move, could barely even speak; he could only watch as his directive¡ªto protect the host¡ªled him into this madness. Vomi was clinging to Animus¡¯ power, depending on it to an extreme, reckless degree. Now, as they swung through the skyscrapers of San Francisco, Vanguard felt himself blacking out every few seconds, his energy nearly drained after holding Vomi¡¯s mind together for so long. He wanted to scream at her, tell her this was a mistake, that they didn¡¯t need this bargain to save Thiago, that they could have healed him themselves if they¡¯d just waited. But now it was too late.

    Ahead loomed the M-Tech building, where the Ouroboros Cyberdeck lay¡ªlikely locked down, tested, inspected.

    They landed on the window of the cyber security floor, Vomi¡¯s twisted, vermillion form pressing a monstrous hand against the glass. Slowly, she applied pressure until the frame cracked, allowing her tendrils to carefully peel it from the frame and set it on the ground. But the cameras immediately spotted her, and the silent alarm triggered, sending alerts to the security team: ¡°breach detected by unknown entity.¡±

    She didn¡¯t care; her focus was singular, fierce.

    Vomi didn¡¯t need to scan the room¡ªshe knew it by heart after two months in the corporation. Moving with purpose, she headed straight for her old office, pulling up the information on where the Cyberdeck was stored. Predictably, it was in the deepest, most isolated labs beneath the building. A simple elevator ride down would get her there, as long as no one complicated things along the way.

    ¡°Target acquired,¡± one of M-Tech¡¯s guards said, gun drawn as he spotted her.

    Of course, if you ignore the security.

    A squad of five men, all armed and tense, approached her slowly. The one at the back was murmuring orders into his comm, finger pressed against his earpiece. As they closed in, they muttered to one another, unable to look away from her. Her mask¡¯s eyes shifted expressively, narrowing with cold calculation. Her hair floated around her like it was alive, charged by the symbiote¡¯s dark energy.

    ¡°Id-dentify yourself! This is a... restricted area!¡± barked the lead guard, his voice stumbling over the sentence as he faced down the monstrous figure before him.

    Yeah, Vomi couldn¡¯t blame him; she¡¯d probably stammer, too, if she saw something like this coming at her.

    But she wasn¡¯t here to talk. Neither was Animus.

    Her tendrils shot out, piercing four of the guards in a single, brutal sweep, each tendril striking true as they hit their mark. The last guard, still a few steps back, froze in horror, then staggered backward, scrambling to escape. Before he could make it far, Vomi was on him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him like he weighed nothing. Towering over him, her height made even more imposing by the symbiotic transformation, she looked every bit the monster he¡¯d feared.

    ¡°Show me the elevator to the lower levels,¡± she demanded, her voice a guttural, distorted blend of Animus¡¯ primal rage and Vomi¡¯s own fury.

    The guard stared up at her, trembling. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out, his eyes darting wildly as though hoping he¡¯d wake up somewhere else. Finally, he managed to point down the corridor, voice barely a whisper. ¡°T-take the main lift... left down the hallway. You''ll need an access code¡­ b-but I can give it to you. Just don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t kill me.¡±

    Vomi tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she weighed his words. She didn¡¯t need his cooperation, not really. With Animus, there wasn¡¯t much she couldn¡¯t break or hack through by force alone. Still, she relished the desperation in his eyes, the way he clung to hope that he might survive this. A flicker of a smile touched her lips, twisted and cruel, before she released him.

    ¡°Code.¡±

    The guard¡¯s fingers fumbled with his datapad, and he read off a sequence of numbers. As he stammered through it, Vomi memorized each digit, the symbiote¡¯s influence speeding up her cognition as it flooded her mind with Animus¡¯s primal impulses. The guard stepped back, relief flooding his face for a brief moment.

    Then, with a sickening crack, one of her tendrils struck him down, leaving him in a heap as she moved past, not sparing him a second glance.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that,¡± Vanguard¡¯s voice whispered in her mind, faint but reproachful.

    ¡°He was a liability,¡± Animus countered with a growl. The first time the primal symbiote showed some kind of consciousness aside from instinct, "And if I can see the memories correctly, Marco also was one."

    "That..."

    Vomi remained silent, pushing forward down the corridor, focused entirely on her mission. As she reached the elevator, she punched in the access code, and the doors slid open. She stepped inside, hitting the button for the sub-levels. The familiar hum filled the silence, and she felt her nerves prickling as the elevator began its descent, the weight of what lay below heavy on her mind.

    The doors opened to a dimly lit corridor, silent and cold. The walls were lined with reinforced steel, and the floor echoed her every step. This was the heart of M-Tech¡¯s research sector¡ªthe place they kept their most dangerous projects locked away. And now, among those secrets, was the Ouroboros Cyberdeck.

    As she advanced, security systems flickered to life, auto-turrets sliding from the ceiling and fixing their sights on her. Vomi¡¯s symbiotic limbs flared out, ready to deflect incoming fire, and she didn¡¯t wait to see if they would hesitate. She lunged forward, tendrils moving like whips, striking each turret before it could fully engage, ripping them from their mounts with vicious efficiency.

    It was then she felt Vanguard''s presence flicker to life again, faint but filled with concern. "Are you sure about this, Vomi? Once you touch that deck, there''s no going back."

    "What the¡ª?!"

    The startled voice came from down the hall. Vomi whipped her head around, spotting a scientist in a hazmat suit peering out of one of the lab rooms, evidently drawn by the noise she''d made trashing the turrets. Without hesitation, she extended an arm, the symbiotic tendril shooting forward and wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

    What followed was brutal. Her hand pierced his skin, nails digging in as though his flesh were waterlogged sponge. She absorbed him, the body crumbling in on itself as she drained every last drop of blood and life. His bones cracked, tissues tearing until he was nothing but a husk, the symbiote hungrily absorbing everything until... she wasn''t Vomi anymore. She''d transformed into the scientist, a full shapeshift borne from DNA absorption.

    "Now, let''s see if this disguise holds," she muttered to herself, her voice now matching the scientist''s. She dusted herself off and took a look down the corridor, noting that some doors immediately unlocked upon her approach. She passed labs with observation windows, while one sealed door remained locked-but her borrowed credentials granted her access when she swiped the pad. The door slid open, revealing the room where her prize lay: the Ouroboros Cyberdeck.

    Inside, the cyberdeck was being integrated into a test subject, while a Ripperdoc carefully applied the implants. Vomi walked in, glancing around to maintain her guise. She picked up a nearby datapad, skimming through testing logs and noting how M-Tech had been subjecting the cyberdeck to various forms of stress. The notes indicated a "biological component" that adapted to every new assault, fortifying itself against repeated types of damage. It wasn''t invulnerable, but it was a nightmare to breach.

    As she skimmed, another scientist, also in a hazmat suit, approached. "This project''s on a whole new level. Once this thing''s fully tested, whoever gets it will be untouchable," he muttered, eyes glued to the Ripperdoc''s work.

    "If any high-end tech like this went public, the whole balance of power would shift overnight," Vomi responded, using the scientist''s voice.

    "Yeah, true." The scientist tilted his head, studying her. "Weren''t you supposed to be on your way out?"

    "I... forgot something," Vomi replied, feigning nonchalance. "Got a lot on my plate already, believe me.¡±

    The scientist narrowed his eyes, a hint of concern creeping in. "You don''t normally forget things like that. You okay?"

    Vomi forced a stiff nod. "I''m fine."

    The way she said it, though, must have triggered his suspicion. He reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "You know you can talk to me, right? We''re all dealing with more than we signed up for. Don''t lie to me."

    A sharp flash of irritation shot through Vomi. She''d apparently chosen to disguise herself as someone this guy had a history with¡ªand now her cover was crumbling.

    Before she could respond, someone down the hall shouted, "Hey! There''s blood here!"

    "What?" The scientist turned toward the door, his hand still on her shoulder.

    "Sound the alarm! Call security!"

    Vomi sighed, letting her disguise fall as she shifted back to her true form. "Fuck this," she growled, grabbing the hazmat-suited scientist and slamming his head into the ground with bone-cracking force.

    The lab plunged into chaos. Scientists scrambled back, their eyes wide with terror as they took in Vomi¡¯s monstrous form. Alarms blared, and with every flash of red light, it was clear that any hope of stealth had vanished.

    Without hesitation, Vomi marched to the glass wall separating the observation room and punched it, sending cracks webbing out as the glass shattered. The Ripperdoc staggered back, nearly fumbling his grip on the tools as he saw her approach. His mouth opened, but no scream came out; he was too stunned to make a sound as the red, shifting form loomed closer.

    Vomi crouched down, leveling her gaze with his as her tendrils twitched, poised to strike if he made a single wrong move. ¡°The cyberdeck. Hand it over.¡±

    The Ripperdoc, hands shaking, nodded frantically. He scrambled to retrieve the deck from its secure compartment¡ªa containment unit about the size of a small box, its seal broken just enough to reveal a strange, pulsing bioware. The deck itself was a deep purple, an unusual organic sheen coating its surface, which reminded Vomi of a symbiote in stasis, dormant but brimming with potential.

    ¡°Good,¡± she muttered, taking the deck and closing the compartment in one swift motion.

    ¡°Finally, reinforcements!¡± A voice from the doorway cut through the chaos¡ªa hazmat-suited figure, face obscured, but relief evident in his tone as a fresh squad of guards poured into the room.

    Vomi¡¯s face twisted with annoyance, the eyes of her symbiote glaring through the hazmat-suited newcomer and the guards behind him.

    "Dr. Vomi. I can¡¯t say this surprises me,¡± said the man in the white hazmat suit. ¡°Though I did hope we¡¯d meet under different circumstances.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You know me. But you¡­?¡±

    The man let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if she¡¯d just told a joke. ¡°I¡¯m Antonio Miranda. Owner of M-Tech.¡±

    ¡°So, my boss.¡± Vomi¡¯s tone was flat, but her eyes flashed. ¡°Quite the event, meeting you here.¡±

    ¡°Likewise.¡± He inclined his head, the faint amusement not lost behind his mask. ¡°But you realize, of course, I can¡¯t let you walk out with that deck.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver. ¡°And?¡±

    Antonio¡¯s smirk was visible even behind his mask. ¡°Kaneda sent you here for that cyberdeck, but did he bother to tell you why?¡±

    Animus bristled with impatience, mirroring Vomi¡¯s tension. Yet something about the question made her pause. She wasn¡¯t naive enough to think her mission was straightforward, but why was Antonio stalling? If he wanted her dead, why didn¡¯t he order his guards to attack? Or why appear himself, rather than stay safely behind his office walls?

    Suddenly, pain exploded in her circuitry as a Short Circuit Quickhack took hold. Sparks erupted along her chrome, sending a wave of agony through her body as her systems overloaded. She convulsed, teeth gritted, muscles seizing as bullets tore through her symbiotic form. The guards, unflinching, unleashed another hail of gunfire. She was helpless under the onslaught, paralyzed by the electric attack, and could only feel the impact of bullets ripping through her as she fought to hold on to consciousness.

    A shotgun blast hit her head, knocking her limp to the ground, her body pooling in an inert, fleshy heap. One of the guards tapped his comms. ¡°Suspect down, KIA.¡±

    ¡°Confirm it,¡± came the response.

    He fired two more rounds into her prone body. ¡°Confirmed.¡±

    Antonio turned and left without a second glance. ¡°Make sure it¡¯s dead this time. And get this mess cleaned up,¡± he called over his shoulder.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    The guards circled her fallen form, exchanging uneasy glances. One nudged her with his rifle. ¡°So, uh¡­ this thing. How does it even work?¡±

    ¡°No clue. If just a prototype made this mess, imagine the real deal,¡± muttered another as he snapped pictures of the scene.

    ¡°Right. Let¡¯s grab the cyberdeck and get out of here,¡± the lead guard said, crouching down to look for the containment box. But when he reached, his hand came up empty.

    ¡°Uh, sir, the containment¡ª¡±

    A flash of movement¡ªa tendril lashed out, wrapping around his throat. His head rolled to the floor a split second later as the others turned to see the impossible. Vomi¡¯s body was regenerating, flesh knitting itself back together, bones cracking back into place. Her skull reformed, the torn flesh of her face healing to reveal her symbiotic mask once more. In a heartbeat, the creature they thought they had destroyed rose from the ground, eyes alight with fury.

    Her face held no trace of humanity¡ªonly cold, calculating rage.

    <hr>

    Kaneda sat back in his office, eyes on the holographic display showing Vomi¡¯s progress. She¡¯d already broken into the M-Tech building, cutting through security and inching closer to the cyberdeck. He tapped his fingers, waiting, a faint smirk on his face. Beside him, one of his advisors¡ªa cautious sort¡ªwatched the display with an anxious frown.

    ¡°Sir, are you sure it was wise to give Dr. Kurosaki that information?¡± the advisor asked, glancing uncertainly at Kaneda.

    ¡°Wise? Maybe not. But it¡¯s our best option for keeping this operation under the radar,¡± Kaneda replied, unbothered.

    ¡°That¡¯s not my concern.¡± The advisor leaned forward, lowering his voice. ¡°What happens when she finds out there¡¯s no child? Or worse, if she integrates that cyberdeck with herself? You know what she¡¯s capable of.¡±

    Kaneda¡¯s expression didn¡¯t falter, but he gave a small nod. He knew it was a possibility. Vomi¡¯s fusion with Animus had already made her an unpredictable force, and combining her with another symbiote would create a nightmare he might not be able to control. Still, her desperation was an opportunity¡ªa vulnerability he could exploit.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°She¡¯ll deliver the cyberdeck,¡± he said finally, his confidence unshaken. ¡°The Ouroboros will be ours, and everything will proceed as planned. She believed what she wanted to believe. There''s no room for naivety in corporations.¡±

    His advisor looked skeptical. ¡°And selling this company to Arasaka?¡±

    ¡°If Arasaka gets wind of this tech, they¡¯ll want us on their side. It¡¯s the only move we have that guarantees our survival.¡±

    The advisor sighed, unconvinced but resigned. ¡°At least set some countermeasures in place. She¡¯s volatile, sir. More than you¡¯re willing to admit.¡±

    Kaneda took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he watched the city lights beyond his window. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll see to it,¡± he said, the barest hint of irritation slipping into his voice. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. Vomi¡¯s desperation is the only guarantee we need.¡±

    <hr>

    More guards, and then even more, flooded the halls. The place was crawling with bodies, blood coating the floor like a grisly sea of red. The guards threw everything they had at her- attacks, hacks, the best tools their tech could provide. Some Quickhacks landed, frying her systems briefly, but Vomi always made quick work of anyone who tried. When the storm finally settled, she was still standing, knee-deep in a growing pool of blood.

    But beneath the adrenaline-fueled rage, something gnawed at her. Something was always getting in her way, some piece of chrome tying her down, always sparking under these constant hacks. The cyberware-the optics, her agent, the personal link¡ªanchored her to the physical plane, a frustrating tether she now wanted gone. Animus could sense it too, a desire to purge anything holding them back.

    With a determined hand, she reached to the back of her neck, nails brushing over the casing where her agent was integrated. The moment she started to dig in, pain crackled up her spine, a nerve-screaming burn that only stoked her rage further. But before she could finish, more guards arrived, their boots echoing against the walls as they fanned out. She vaulted to the ceiling, her body clinging effortlessly as she waited for them to pass.

    "Sir, the suspect isn''t where the system says," one guard reported into his comms, still scanning the blood-soaked room.

    The guards waited, tense, eyes flickering to the corpses sprawled across the floor, the aftermath of their doomed colleagues'' attempts.

    "God... how many did she kill?"

    "Who cares? We just need to kill the bitch already."

    "Like we stand a better chance than they did?" the third muttered, casting a wary look at the carnage.

    Vomi''s gaze focused on that last guard, a spark of approval flickering briefly. He''s still gonna die but at least he understood.

    "Check the ceiling?" the first guard asked into his comms.

    They all looked up.

    "Ah, fu¡ª!"

    He didn''t finish as Vomi dropped from above, her fist diving straight through his chest.

    The guard''s lifeless body dropped to the floor, and in an instant, the room erupted in chaos. The others scrambled, unloading rounds into the space Vomi had just been, but she was already in motion, a crimson blur weaving through them with lethal precision. Animus guided her strikes, each movement honed to strike vital points, every kill swift and ruthless.

    Another guard lunged at her with a high-frequency blade, but she sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it back with such force that the bones snapped like dry twigs. She didn''t even bother to finish him; the symbiotic tendrils extended from her back, spearing through his torso, draining the life from him in seconds.

    She was a storm of flesh and metal, blood and fury-more monster than human now. The once-cold corridors of the lab transformed into a nightmare, painted in red and shadows as Animus urged her on, pushing them further into that merciless, primal rage. Her heart thundered, the symbiote feeding off her raw emotions, amplifying the need to destroy everything in her path.

    "You''re letting Animus control you, Vomi. You''re not just him. Remember who you are.¡±

    It was faint. It was almost inaudible, but Vanguard managed to send a simple reminder to her soul. Which made her pause for a second. Something¡­ human.

    Vomi shook her head. She doesn''t need distractions right now.

    More guards appeared at the far end of the corridor, their guns leveled, voices barking orders. Her body was battered, her cyberware sparking, but her resolve was unshaken.

    She just took a step forward, ¡°Leave.¡±

    A handful of them hesitated, exchanging glances. But the others tightened their grips on their weapons, ready to die for orders they couldn''t even question.

    "So be it," she muttered, feeling Animus pulse in agreement, ready for more.

    In one swift, relentless motion, Vomi surged forward, her tendrils tearing through the line of guards in a brutal, calculated ballet. She slashed some cleanly in half; others crumpled under the sheer force of her strikes, their skulls caving in with sickening cracks. Each move was precise and merciless, a deadly dance where each opponent did exactly what anyone watching would expect: fall. None were spared, and all Vomi could think about was one target¡ªAntonio.

    Did she need to kill him? Not necessarily. But then again, was there any reason not to?

    She reached the corridor where she''d first consumed that unfortunate hazmat worker. Whoever he had been no longer mattered. What did matter, however, was the empty elevator shaft in front of her. The car was descending slowly, probably delivering another wave of reinforcements. She tapped her foot, an eerie, fleshy rhythm, impatience woven into each squelch of her symbiote form. Ripping through the dense, reinforced steel walls surrounding her wasn''t an option, so she was forced to wait.

    As soon as the elevator doors finally slid open, three figures stepped out. Two appeared as standard security, but the third wore an exoskeleton suit, towering and armored.

    "Cute," Vomi muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm.

    "Target in sight," the one in the exoskeleton stated coolly. "Lethal force authorized, but capturing her alive is preferred."

    The man to his left, holding a sniper rifle, cocked it and grinned. "Not making any promises there."

    "Same here," added the third, sliding a magazine into his submachine gun with a smirk. "Let''s light her up.¡±

    Before the exoskeleton-wearing guard could even finish his order, Vomi launched herself forward, her tendrils snapping out like whips. She moved fast¡ªinhumanly so. The sniper fired a shot, but she twisted mid-air, the bullet grazing past her. In an instant, her tendrils wrapped around his rifle and yanked it out of his hands, pulling him forward. He stumbled, off balance, and before he could react, she drove a fist through his chest. But to frustrate her attempt at a quick kill, the exo guard managed to strike Vomi before her fist could land, sending her to the wall. Without missing a beat, the last guard used his submachine gun, emptying the entire magazine on her.

    It didn''t hurt, but it was extremely annoying and forced her to stay away.

    ¡°Fuck me!¡±, The guy said, picking up his sniper from the ground.

    ¡°Don''t get distracted. Any mistake might be the last one.¡±, The exo guard ordered, his voice showing command and complete calm over the situation.

    ¡°Tell me about it¡­¡±

    ¡°You better reposition because I don''t have infinite bullets here!¡±, The submachine guard yelled as his gun clicked with the empty magazine.

    The exo guard deployed a flash grenade, and with Vomi already struggling to recover from the earlier gunfire and heavy punch, the blinding light caught her off-guard. She recoiled, tendrils lashing out in every direction in a desperate attempt to make contact with anything that moved. Animus quickly redirected her focus, guiding her to rely more on hearing, helping her latch onto a nearby wall for cover as her vision slowly cleared.

    "Nice shot!" The guard shouted, a triumphant note in his voice.

    "Don''t celebrate just yet!" The sniper warned, tense and alert.

    Though Vomi couldn''t see clearly, she could still act. Animus helped her press against the floor, pooling as much biomass into her fists as she could manage before slamming them down in a brutal shockwave. The force sent cracks spidering through the concrete, and a cascade of debris fell from the ceiling-chunks of drywall, broken AC units, dust and rubble. The guards scrambled to avoid the falling debris, their boots crunching on the shattered concrete.

    With just a moment''s reprieve, she made a brutal decision.

    Rip her eyes off.

    ¡°Fuck these optics.¡±

    Her hands found her face, claws biting deep as she tore out her own eyes, eliminating the hacked optics that had been nothing but a liability. She didn''t flinch at the pain-she let it fuel her rage, blood streaming down her cheeks in streaks as her body adjusted.

    Animus buffered her nerves just enough to keep her moving, though the agony was raw, her pained screams echoing off the walls. For the first time, the guards seemed shaken, inching forward cautiously, only guessing at what hellish plan she was devising.

    The guard with the submachine gun approached first, closing in, thinking perhaps she was crippled by her own insanity. But Vomi''s form surged up to meet him, her hands gripping his shoulders, her blood-covered face inches from his, her new eyes reforming with a murderous gleam. She tore into him, claws ripping through flesh, shredding his jaw and throat. The guard''s scream died in a choked gurgle as blood spurted from his wounds.

    A shot rang out as the sniper fired again, the bullet tearing through a chunk of her head, spraying blood across the walls. Vomi staggered, her head jerking back as her flesh began to knit itself together, her hate only intensifying with each injury. She let the dying guard crumple to the ground, locking her newly regenerated eyes on the sniper.

    Before she could close in, an explosion rocked her back-another grenade, launched from the exo guard''s chrome-arm launcher. The blast seared through her, ripping apart layers of flesh, leaving her staggering in a haze of smoke and blood. With gritted teeth, Vomi made a quick retreat, slipping into one of the lab rooms to regroup. The guards pursued her without hesitation, stepping over the body of their fallen comrade as though he hadn¡¯t even been there.

    ¡°She''s even crazier than the reports said,¡± the sniper muttered, his rifle trained on the door.

    ¡°These are top corporate projects. It¡¯s exactly what you¡¯d expect,¡± replied the exo guard, his voice steady despite the recent loss and the deadly situation.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go in. My exo suit and subdermal plating can handle her attacks, and I¡¯ve got the projectile chrome. But you¡¯re the only one who can really hurt her,¡± he replied, loading another grenade into the launcher arm.

    The sniper checked his ammo, switching to specialized rounds. ¡°Energy rounds it is. Standard rounds, even the .50 cal, barely leave a mark on her.¡±

    ¡°Right. I¡¯ll draw her out to somewhere you can get a clear shot.¡±

    ¡°Got it. I¡¯ll take position down the hall.¡±

    With the plan set, the exo guard pushed into the lab, bracing himself for the worst. But inside, the room was deserted. Test subjects lay in their containment pods, some oblivious to the chaos around them. He scanned every corner¡ªwalls, ceiling, even the floor¡ªbut there was no sign of her. Then his gaze fell on the open vent cover nearby, its edges dented and warped.

    ¡°She¡¯s in the ventilation system,¡± he muttered into his comm.

    Only silence replied.

    He frowned, glancing around warily. ¡°Sneaky bitch,¡± he muttered, realizing the hunt had just gotten far more dangerous.

    He glanced up at the ventilation, then out into the hallway. Leaving the lab, he bent down to retrieve the submachine gun from the fallen guard and swapped in a magazine loaded with energy rounds. Without hesitation, he began unloading on every vent cover he could see. The shots didn¡¯t quite punch through the steel, but they bent and warped the structure enough to make crawling through it a grueling task for anyone¡ªor anything.

    As he paused to reload, a tendril lashed out, knocking the gun from his hand. Vomi landed in front of him, preparing for a final, devastating blow. She didn¡¯t bother to hide her intent; her punch arced slowly, promising pure, unrestrained power.

    But fate had other plans. With reflexes honed and enhanced by his exoskeleton, the guard dodged, landing a brutal counter punch. He followed up with a rapid series of strikes, each faster than the last, until a final hit sent Vomi crashing into the wall.

    ¡°Did you think I¡¯d be helpless up close? That¡¯s funny!¡± he taunted, a confident grin spread across his face.

    Dazed, Vomi pushed herself to her feet, trying to piece together how he¡¯d managed such speed. There was no Sandevistan boost, no sign of any reflex mods¡ªat least not visibly. That exo-suit, however, clearly held a few surprises.

    ¡°How?¡± she growled, her voice laced with distorted confusion.

    ¡°You¡¯ll find, especially in this line of work, that some of us come prepared,¡± he smirked, relishing the moment. ¡°Many in corporations use martial arts shards. Guess I just installed mine better.¡±

    With a snarl, Vomi fired a tendril at him, catching his arm. He didn¡¯t resist; instead, he twisted the arm of his exo-suit, using its torque to reel her in like a snared animal. She had no time to react before his fist met her face mid-air, and the launcher on his other arm sent a grenade her way, blasting her through the wall. Any other combatant would¡¯ve been down for good, but Vomi was no ordinary borg¡ªor person.

    The guard took a moment, slightly winded but visibly impressed. He knew his gear wouldn¡¯t hold out forever; this fight would inevitably turn in her favor if it dragged on. But he wasn¡¯t backing down yet. This time, he took the lead. If this was going to be close combat, he''d dominate it.

    Vomi was barely back on her feet when he seized her, locking her in a clinch. The exoskeleton granted him more than enough power to restrain her, allowing him to hammer her with a barrage of knees and elbows. Each impact drove into her bruised and battered spots from their previous skirmishes. The final knee struck her face with enough force to leave her dazed, a haze that thickened as he followed up with a roundhouse kick to her ribs. Flesh and metal clashed, and all Vomi could do was withstand the assault.

    Not missing a beat, he ripped a metal pipe from the wall, a savage grin crossing his face as he decided to test his swing on her. The first strike had her spitting blood; the second dropped her to the ground. The pipe bent from the force, broken from the punishing blows. He took advantage of her weakened state and triggered the final function of his exosuit¡ªa powerful electrical charge. It surged into her chest, sending violent convulsions through her body as her muscles seized and contracted under the gigawatt shock. Her scream echoed through the hall, raw and unrestrained, until the current finally cut out. He staggered back, breathing heavily, satisfied yet wary.

    He nudged her with his boot. She wasn''t dead-maybe unconscious, or too drained to respond. But he''d seen what happened to the last person who assumed she was finished, so he stayed alert. Sure enough, she lay still, but he knew she was conscious.

    "She''s alive. Secured," he reported, his tone steady. "I''m the only one here. Send a squad ASAP."

    He could hear Vomi''s labored breathing. She was in even worse shape than he was. Pulling a chair from the lab, he sat down, watching as the symbiote worked on her injuries. Bullet holes and burns from grenade shrapnel slowly knitted back together, forcing out fragments that didn''t belong. Up close, it was both fascinating and unnerving. He couldn''t imagine the agony of feeling every inch of that damage healing from the inside out-or the toll it took on her sanity. He wondered if facing her was like facing a cyberpsycho... or was she more of a "biopsycho"? Funny thought, but questions for later.

    He watched as Vomi crawled toward the exit, dragging herself inch by inch toward the corridor. He sighed. It was almost pitiful. She was still trying to fight despite her battered state. Remarkable, maybe even admirable, but she had to know when to surrender. The burnt, torn remnants of what had once been a confident, brilliant scientist clawed forward, pushing with every last bit of energy she could muster. If anything, the guard was willing to let her go. In her condition, what threat could she really pose? He half-expected a sudden, desperate rage to flare up in her eyes¡ªbut instead, all he saw was pained determination.

    Honestly? Ripping her own eyes out to regain her vision? That was brutal and beyond preem.

    But now? This was just sad.

    He rose from his seat as she disappeared around the corner. He couldn''t afford to let her go, though the trail of blood she left made following her too easy. He noted how she moved over the debris from her previous attack. It still puzzled him how a single punch from her could have damaged the infrastructure so badly, even bringing chunks of the underfloors crashing down. He glanced up at the holes in the ceiling, a grim reminder of how close he''d been to being crushed under that fallout¡ª

    But suddenly, a sharp sense of dread washed over him.

    He turned back to Vomi. She was aiming a sniper rifle¡ªthe sniper rifle, the one loaded with those specialized rounds. And it was pointed straight at him.

    "Oh, you''ve got to be kidding¡ª"

    The blast hit hard, the energy round surging from the barrel like a laser, tearing through him with brutal precision. It didn''t just punch a hole; it erased a whole section of his torso, leaving only dripping blood and the sparking wires of his chrome.

    Vomi crawled toward her final target, every nerve screaming in agony. Animus howled in her mind, mirroring her pain. It had all come down to this- a relentless cycle of pain. But at this moment, they only needed one thing to survive. And there it was, lying right in front of them.

    The smell of blood thickened as Vomi''s fingers closed around the guard''s torn body, feeling the warmth ebb from him. She leaned closer, every inch of her form screaming in exhaustion and pain, but Animus took control, guiding her motions, ensuring each movement was precise, efficient. Tendrils unfurled, extending out from her arms and chest like living cables, latching onto his still-twitching flesh. They embedded themselves deep, piercing through skin and muscle, seeking the nutrients, the lifeforce, that her body desperately craved.

    The process started with a prickling sensation, almost like an electric hum coursing through her tendrils as they drained the cells around each tendril''s tip. Animus was consuming, metabolizing, converting every bit of biomass into raw energy. It moved quickly, first mending the torn patches of her skin, closing the bullet holes, knitting together the delicate nerves and tissues fractured from the concussive blasts. With each second, her body felt lighter, the pain easing, the raw edges of every wound becoming soft, pliable, whole.

    Her vision, which had flickered with fractured images and bursts of static moments before, now sharpened as her new eyes fully healed. The holes and burns covering her chest, arms, and legs sealed completely, leaving only faint marks that smoothed over in seconds, replaced with unblemished flesh. Her muscles, strained to the limit, felt rejuvenated, regaining their strength as they absorbed the nutrients Animus so meticulously processed from the guard.

    Each wave of healing brought with it a deep, satisfying release, as if she were sinking into warmth after a cold, brutal night. The agony that had screamed through every nerve faded, replaced by a muted calm, an anesthetic numbness that washed over her.

    Yet, as Vomi consumed him, there was no hesitation, no disgust or horror in her expression. Her eyes were steady, devoid of revulsion. The act felt neither vile nor virtuous¡ªit was simply a necessity, an exchange she''d accepted. This wasn''t something she despised; she didn''t feel any attachment to the life she was absorbing, nor any malice. The guard was no longer a person to her, not in this moment. He was biomass, a resource for survival, the fuel to keep her alive.

    As Animus completed the last stages, retracting its tendrils back into her, Vomi stood up, her wounds entirely gone. She felt the solid weight of strength fill her bones, the vitality in her veins once more. Her expression remained neutral, almost calm, as she cast one last glance at what remained of the guard. There was no remorse, no anger. Just a simple reminder to check if the Cyberdeck was intact.

    Her hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, fingertips sinking into the skin, and with a subtle parting of the flesh, the box re-emerged. Hidden deep within her all this time, the box was still intact, without a scratch. Satisfied, she tucked it back into her abdomen, the red symbiote seamlessly merging back together, her skin unbroken. She stepped up to the elevator and hit the button. Anyone who might review the security footage, and someone undoubtedly would, wouldn¡¯t dare try to stop her. To hell with M-Tech. All she wanted now was¡­ well¡­

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Vomi mused as the elevator descended, the silence heavy around her. ¡°What¡­ do I even want?¡±

    ¡°Vomi?¡± Vanguard¡¯s voice broke through, after what felt like an eternity of absence.

    ¡°Oh, there you are.¡± Her tone was flat, as if barely registering his presence.

    ¡°Are you¡­ are we¡­ alive?¡± His disbelief bordered on shock.

    ¡°Yes. The cyberdeck is intact. Kaneda better keep his side of the deal,¡± she replied bluntly, her focus unbroken. ¡°Now, be quiet. I need to rest.¡±

    ¡°But Vomi, we don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°She requested silence, cat.¡± Animus¡¯s voice was sharp, controlled but dripping with disdain. ¡°Now stay quiet.¡±

    The second time the primal symbiote showed thought. This isn''t a good omen.

    Vanguard¡¯s shock turned to dread. The Vomi he¡¯d known would¡¯ve listened to him, not let some volatile prototype overshadow him. His creator¡­ what was already impossible to believe that she had, or more accurate ¡°he¡± had a past life, now was making one of the worst mistakes of their lives. As he tried to argue, he realized something that left him cold, a chilling emptiness creeping into his code.

    Because things weren''t already bad enough.

    Vanguard couldn¡¯t manifest himself outside of Vomi anymore.

 Chapter 26: In The Shadows

    A few minutes earlier¡­

    ¡°Fuck, I can¡¯t take this anymore.¡± Raven¡¯s voice was tight with frustration as she stormed toward the door.

    She¡¯d been pacing for what felt like hours, wearing a path into the floor. Nieme was drumming his fingers anxiously on the table, Cinthia remained rooted to her spot by the window despite the urge to flee¡ªgoing outside with the possibility of an ambush felt far riskier. Meanwhile, Katie couldn¡¯t focus on the cartoons Heitor had put on, his best effort to distract the girl from the chaos of the day. Anxiety hung heavy in the air, too thick for anyone to sit comfortably.

    But before Raven could leave, Heitor¡¯s hand gripped her arm. ¡°Raven, don¡¯t. I know exactly what you¡¯re planning, and it¡¯s a terrible idea.¡±

    ¡°How could you possibly¡ª¡±

    ¡°In the military, people who were told to wait got impatient and decided to play hero,¡± he explained, releasing her arm. ¡°None of them came back. I don¡¯t need to spell out why.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, I get it, you can¡¯t just sit around and expect Vomi to handle everything.¡± Heitor¡¯s voice softened, though he didn¡¯t yield an inch. ¡°We haven¡¯t gotten any updates yet, but if we run out there without a plan, we¡¯ll just make things worse.¡±

    Raven looked back at the door, her hand falling to her side. ¡°Shit¡­¡±

    ¡°We still need to do something,¡± Nieme muttered, glancing out the window at the empty street. ¡°Doing anything is better than nothing.¡±

    ¡°But what exactly?¡± Cinthia interjected, pacing again. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have a magic solution. Calling her is out of the question; if their netrunners are even half as good as you say, they¡¯ll trace it right back here.¡±

    ¡°And none of us are netrunners,¡± Heitor sighed, irritated at the lack of backup. ¡°Vomi was always the one covering us on that front.¡±

    Katie tugged on Heitor¡¯s sleeve, her small face anxious. ¡°What about my dad?¡±

    Heitor didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°He¡¯s safe, Katie. Blaze is with him, and believe me, that idiot can take a hit better than anyone I know.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    Raven bit her lip, glancing between her chooms. ¡°So there¡¯s really nothing we can do?¡±

    Nieme hesitated, then let out a resigned sigh. ¡°I might have one idea.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± Cinthia¡¯s voice broke the silence as she checked the security feed on her agent. ¡°Someone¡¯s at the door. Isn¡¯t this the guy¡­ Carmine?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s him,¡± Heitor confirmed, peering at her screen when she shared it.

    Carmine stumbled inside, drenched in sweat and clutching a revolver. ¡°Made sure no one followed me, but those psychos? They¡¯re hopped up on something¡­ steroids, stims¡­ maybe worse.¡± He slumped against the door, revolver clattering to the floor as he sat heavily.

    ¡°You got attacked?¡± Cinthia asked, locking the door behind him.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he muttered, exhaustion settling over him like a blanket, and everyone else felt it creep into their bones.

    ¡°Rough,¡± she nodded with a sympathetic grimace.

    ¡°You¡¯re just in time, actually.¡± Nieme said, sliding over to the laptop on the counter. ¡°Mind if I¡­?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Cinthia replied.

    Raven dropped into a seat beside him. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Nieme exhaled sharply. ¡°My dad works intel for the PD¡ªfieldwork, recon, investigations, you name it. I can ask him to help us out, but¡­¡± His fingers hovered over the keys, his frown deepening.

    ¡°I get it. ¡®Rents aren¡¯t exactly reliable when it comes to helping out,¡± Raven said, earning a small huff from Katie. ¡°Well, except Thiago, obviously,¡± she added, nudging Katie, who looked a bit less indignant.

    ¡°But doesn¡¯t SFPD work with corpos? Or at least are backed by them to some extent?¡± Heitor asked, not condemning, just surprised. ¡°After everything you say about them, you¡¯re sure about this?¡±

    Nieme¡¯s hesitation spoke volumes. ¡°Yeah, I know¡­ It¡¯s just¡­¡± He trailed off, almost admitting something before his expression hardened. ¡°I don¡¯t want to sit here doing nothing. Watching all of you so freaked out about Vomi is killing me.¡±

    Raven placed a hand on his shoulder, appreciation softening her gaze. ¡°Thanks, Nieme. Really.¡±

    He gave her a wry grin. ¡°Thank me later. For now, I get to deal with my delightful father.¡±

    With a final keystroke, Nieme sent the call request. The PD had basic encryption, courtesy of their netrunners, so the call went through without issue. But just because the system accepted the call didn¡¯t mean Frank would pick up, especially with Nieme using someone else¡¯s device. The seconds ticked by, stretching into what felt like hours. Finally, the screen flickered, and Frank¡¯s face appeared, his surprise masked with thinly veiled annoyance.

    ¡°Nieme?¡± Frank¡¯s tone was clipped. ¡°What the fuck are you doing calling me?¡±

    Nieme¡¯s eyes narrowed, his tone blunt and unfiltered. ¡°I need your help. This is serious. Really serious.¡±

    Frank raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but as the others clustered closer to the screen, showing the urgency in their expressions, he seemed at least a bit intrigued.

    ¡°I can see you¡¯re¡­ in some kind of distress,¡± Frank said, still unmoved by the anxious faces looking back at him. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Katie suddenly leaned into the frame, her hopeful eyes fixed on him. ¡°Are you going to help us?¡±

    ¡°Katie, please, let us handle this.¡± Heitor gently pulled her back, though she resisted, her worry shining through.

    ¡°But¡­ my dad!¡±

    Frank sighed, watching her with an unreadable expression. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll listen,¡± he said, either touched by the girl¡¯s sincerity or just giving in, ¡°but make it brief. I don¡¯t have much time.¡±

    Nieme scoffed, his frustration breaking through. ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re hitting me with the ¡®be brief¡¯ line right now? This isn¡¯t some random complaint, Frank. This is a life-or-death situation.¡±

    The others shared a look, all of them noting the cold distance in Nieme¡¯s words. Notably, he hadn¡¯t referred to Frank as ¡°Dad.¡± Their fractured relationship was evident.

    ¡°Nieme, I have a job¡ªa responsibility,¡± Frank said, his voice stiff with authority. ¡°I¡¯m a peacekeeper. I can¡¯t just drop everything to deal with whatever¡­ problem you think needs fixing.¡±

    Nieme¡¯s frustration boiled over. ¡°Can we drop the baggage just once? I know you and I have our issues¡ªtrust me, I get that you¡¯re not who I thought you were. But this isn¡¯t about me or you. My friend he is¡ª!¡±

    Raven quickly placed a hand over his mouth, silencing him before he could say ¡°dying.¡±

    ¡°Your words just prove you haven¡¯t changed at all since you left our home,¡± Frank replied coldly.

    ¡°Your home,¡± Nieme shot back.

    Frank¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Our home, Nieme. Why should I help you when you won¡¯t even consider my reasons? You just assume everything and expect people to jump.¡±

    Nieme took a deep breath, visibly restraining himself. ¡°I get it. Believe me.¡±

    Frank didn¡¯t hold back his frustration. ¡°Did you ever stop to think that maybe I didn¡¯t have a choice when¡ª¡±

    ¡°My friend is a corpo!¡± Nieme burst out. ¡°Alright? She needs help!¡±

    Frank paused, completely thrown off. ¡°¡­What?¡±

    Frank¡¯s expression shifted from irritation to something closer to shock, the kind of shock that only happened when something really didn¡¯t compute. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat.

    ¡°You heard me.¡± Nieme held his ground, meeting his father¡¯s stare without flinching. ¡°A corpo. The kind you¡¯d usually throw out of your life, right? But she¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s a friend. And she¡¯s in real danger.¡±

    Frank finally found his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this. You¡¯re telling me you¡¯ve gotten yourself tangled up with a corpo? The very thing you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know exactly what she is,¡± Nieme cut him off. ¡°But I also know who she is. She¡¯s put herself on the line for us, she''s a close choom. And now it¡¯s our turn to help her.¡±

    Raven¡¯s hand tightened on Nieme¡¯s shoulder, as if to lend her strength to him. ¡°Look, Frank, we¡¯re asking because there¡¯s nowhere else to turn. We just need to find her. You have resources we don¡¯t.¡±

    Frank rubbed a hand over his face, looking at the small group on the screen as if seeing them for the first time. ¡°This doesn¡¯t add up. Since when did you start trusting corpos? Since when did you start throwing yourself into¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about trust or labels, alright? It¡¯s about doing the right thing,¡± Nieme insisted. ¡°And whether or not you agree, we see her as family. So are you going to help or not?¡±

    Frank was silent for a few long moments, his face shifting between conflict and the old habit of refusing to budge. Finally, he sighed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll help. But I¡¯m not doing this for you. I am doing for her,¡± he added, glancing at Katie. ¡°Tell me what you know.¡±

    A collective sigh of relief rippled through the group.

    ¡°Thank you, Frank,¡± Nieme said, the tension easing from his voice. ¡°Here¡¯s everything we¡¯ve got so far.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°This is¡­ more complicated than I expected,¡± Frank admitted, now working alongside a Netrunner colleague on his end.

    The group had set up a secure call through their agents to keep everyone updated. It was also a way to keep certain details out of Katie¡¯s earshot.

    ¡°Well, on the bright side, we actually have a reason to dig into this,¡± Frank¡¯s coworker added, sounding intrigued. ¡°A massacre by the Black Daggers and a string of attempted hits¡­ Not exactly your average day¡¯s work.¡±

    ¡°What exactly has she been up to?¡± Raven asked, uncertain about discussing details with the police.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have the full picture yet, but we do have security footage from the ambush at your warehouse, and¡­¡± Frank¡¯s coworker trailed off, squinting at an image on his screen. ¡°Hold on¡ªwhat is this?¡± He pointed to the image of Vomi, though he didn¡¯t yet know it was her. ¡°That figure¡­ they¡¯re tearing through Black Daggers, going after hideouts, questioning anyone in sight, and¡­ making our job somewhat easier, honestly.¡±

    ¡°Nieme, what the hell have you gotten me into?¡± Frank said, watching as tendrils or monowires sliced through the Daggers. The figure¡¯s suit looked almost alien, difficult to look at without feeling both confusion and a strange fascination.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a lot harder to explain than it sounds,¡± Nieme admitted, sounding defeated.

    ¡°What he means,¡± Heitor cut in, ¡°is that we don¡¯t really know ourselves. Given her work at M-Tech, she might be caught up in some experimental chrome gone haywire.¡±

    ¡°Her chrome changed all the time,¡± Raven added, crossing her arms thoughtfully. ¡°When we first met her, she seemed¡­ well, normal. But almost every rehearsal, she showed up with something new. Her skin got paler, that weird red cat she had showed up, her optics turned black and red¡­ I figured maybe she was some kind of test subject.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not out of the question,¡± the coworker agreed, tracing Vomi¡¯s path to the most recent Dagger hideout. ¡°If she actually had much chrome to begin with, that is. Wait¡­ did you say she has a cat?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah? Why do you ask?¡± Nieme responded, caught off guard.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t they¡­ like, disease magnets?¡±

    ¡°Not the point,¡± Frank interrupted, tiring of the sidetrack. ¡°What do you mean by ¡®basic¡¯ chrome? She only had¡­ what, three mods?¡±

    ¡°Right. Just an agent for calls, a personal cord for device attachments, and optics,¡± the Netrunner said, pulling up Vomi¡¯s health records, ID, and any available background info. ¡°In fact, her records only go back two months. Almost like she just¡­ appeared out of nowhere. Either she wiped her data, or she¡¯s really skilled at staying off the grid.¡±

    ¡°Well, she¡¯s a corporate player for M-Tech. If she¡¯s important enough¡ªand I¡¯d bet she is¡ªthen erasing or forging records is child¡¯s play for a corp like that,¡± Frank shrugged dismissively. ¡°Besides, if someone like this could fly under the radar, then we¡¯d barely know Adam Smasher¡¯s name. Because¡ªseriously¡ªthis kind of carnage? Even mercs don¡¯t go that far.¡±

    Cinthia, who¡¯d been silent until now, found herself staring at the screen with a mix of dread and disbelief. The grainy images on the display, however unreal they seemed, only deepened her unease. Had her sister been around a monster all this time?

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ terrifying,¡± she murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.

    ¡°I¡¯m as lost as you are, choom.¡± Carmine¡¯s voice broke slightly as he muttered, his own unease unmistakable.

    ¡°This is the last record we have before an AV showed up,¡± Frank¡¯s coworker noted, eyes narrowing as he scanned the incoming data. He began pulling up details on the aircraft, his hands moving over the keyboard with sharp precision. ¡°KanedaCorp AV. If I were a betting man¡ªand I am¡ªI¡¯d wager she¡¯s headed straight to their headquarters.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ why?¡± Nieme asked, sounding almost as though he were trying to make sense of a puzzle missing several pieces.

    ¡°Maybe whatever she has installed on her¡ªchrome, tech, drugs, or whatever¡ªisn¡¯t functioning right? KanedaCorp wouldn¡¯t pass up the chance to get something like that in their hands,¡± the Netrunner ventured, mulling over the possibilities. ¡°If they can analyze and fix it, they could replicate it, and that means they gain a unique asset.¡±

    ¡°And likely a new merc, fully dependent on their healthcare for upkeep,¡± Frank finished grimly. Even through the call, his exhaustion seeped through, as if the weight of these discoveries had drained him of energy. ¡°Look, Nieme, we¡¯ve done all we can. We know where she¡¯s headed, and that¡¯s where our reach ends. All I can do is dispatch some officers to protect you, but that''s it.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    Everyone turned to Carmine, who nervously crunched a handful of chips, eyes flicking between them as if he¡¯d just tossed out something explosive.

    ¡°Uh¡­ why¡¯s everyone staring at me like that?¡±

    ¡°You just¡­,¡± Heitor trailed off, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was his former heist partner. ¡°So, what¡¯s your big idea?¡±

    ¡°Well, uh, where is she headed right now?¡± Carmine asked, voice wavering as he continued to munch on the chips.

    The coworker squinted at the screen. ¡°Looks like¡­ she¡¯s using her monowire as a makeshift sling, moving across the city toward¡­ M-Tech? Can¡¯t say why, but that¡¯s her trajectory.¡±

    ¡°Why would Vomi go there of all places?¡± Frank muttered, confused.

    At once, a heavy silence settled over the room.

    ¡°Nieme?¡± Frank¡¯s voice cut through like a parent catching their kid mid-trouble.

    ¡°Aw, hell no,¡± Heitor muttered under his breath.

    ¡°This is fucked up,¡± Raven sighed, shaking her head.

    ¡°She¡¯s gonna get herself flatlined,¡± Cinthia said, grimacing.

    Nieme dropped his head onto the counter with a thunk. ¡°Of course. Why can¡¯t anything ever be simple?¡±

    ¡°Guys?¡± Katie looked around, her small voice breaking the tense silence. She couldn¡¯t quite understand why everyone suddenly looked like they¡¯d seen a ghost.

    ¡°Things got a little tricky, sweetie,¡± Cinthia said gently, running her hand through Katie¡¯s hair. ¡°But we¡¯ll figure it out, okay?¡±

    Katie just hummed, though her skeptical expression said she wasn¡¯t entirely convinced.

    ¡°Nieme! Answer the question!¡± Frank¡¯s voice barked through the call, making everyone jump.

    ¡°Alright, alright, jeez,¡± Nieme muttered, rubbing his temple. ¡°But you have to promise to keep this out of any records.¡±

    ¡°Especially mine,¡± Heitor added. ¡°This is sensitive stuff.¡±

    ¡°Mine too,¡± Carmine chimed in.

    Frank paused, sighing. ¡°Fine¡­ I¡¯ll try my best.¡±

    Nieme took a deep breath. ¡°M-Tech hired some of us, with Vomi acting as Fixer, to steal a prototype cyberdeck from KanedaCorp. If she¡¯s just left their main building and is headed toward M-Tech, then the only thing that makes sense¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­is that she¡¯s going back for the deck,¡± the coworker finished, unfazed. ¡°Fits with the info we¡¯ve got on her movements.¡±

    Frank¡¯s voice was tense. ¡°You participated in a heist?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t even know about it until, like, a few hours ago,¡± Nieme said defensively.

    ¡°I¡¯m technically the leader, and even I didn¡¯t know,¡± Raven muttered, side-eyeing Heitor.

    Heitor sighed. ¡°I already apologized¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shush,¡± she cut him off, still glaring.

    Frank groaned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t help much. Carmine, right? So what now?¡±

    Carmine tossed his empty chip bag in the trash, looking around at everyone. ¡°We still have the client¡¯s contact¡ªGraves, right? We could reach out, fill him in.¡±

    ¡°And put Vomi in even more danger?¡± Cinthia raised an eyebrow, as if it should¡¯ve been obvious.

    ¡°I¡¯m desperate, not stupid,¡± Carmine replied. ¡°I get it, it¡¯s a risk. But maybe they could contain¡­ whatever she¡¯s turning into. Might save more lives if we do it now rather than later.¡±

    Frank looked at the team on the call, his brows furrowed. ¡°And you¡¯re all okay with this? Reaching out to Graves might give them a heads-up, but you realize it could backfire.¡±

    Nieme rubbed his temples, caught between the risk and his loyalty to Vomi. ¡°If we don¡¯t, they¡¯ll track her down and might see her as a bigger threat than just a rogue asset. But if we do, there¡¯s a chance they¡¯ll go after her immediately, and we¡¯ll lose any control over what happens next.¡±

    ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± Heitor said, crossing his arms. ¡°We¡¯re deciding between hoping Vomi fights her way out of M-Tech solo, or rolling the dice with Graves and hoping he sees her as an ally, not just a resource.¡±

    Raven let out a long, frustrated breath. ¡°Look, Vomi¡¯s tough, but this isn¡¯t like our usual gigs. Whatever¡¯s driving her right now¡­ it¡¯s not just chrome or tech. It¡¯s¡­ something else.¡± Her voice softened, almost as if she didn¡¯t believe her own words. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s not entirely Vomi anymore.¡±

    That comment hung heavy in the air.

    Cinthia finally broke the silence, shaking her head. ¡°So if we want her to come out of this alive, we¡¯re gonna have to be just as smart as we are cautious. Contacting Graves might be our only shot at getting her back safely.¡±

    Frank clicked his tongue, mulling it over. ¡°Alright. Here¡¯s what I¡¯ll do. I¡¯ll set up a discreet call to Graves, feel him out first. If there¡¯s even a hint that he¡¯s thinking of taking her down, I¡¯ll pull the plug, understood?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t let them talk about her like she¡¯s a tool,¡± Nieme muttered. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ more than that. A lot more.¡±

    Frank¡¯s voice softened, just barely. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll give you a status update as soon as I¡¯ve got something.¡±

    They watched the call icon flicker and close. For a moment, the silence in the room was thicker than the tension they¡¯d started with.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing the right thing, right?¡± Katie¡¯s small voice broke through, looking up at Cinthia with wide, questioning eyes.

    ¡°Yes, sweetie,¡± Cinthia said softly, kneeling to her height. ¡°We¡¯re doing everything we can to help Vomi.¡±

    Nieme swallowed hard, casting a glance at the others. ¡°Now we wait. And just hope¡­ that Graves sees Vomi the way we do.¡±

    <hr>

    Graves already knew a lot about Vomi¡¯s recent actions. He knew she¡¯d wiped out several Black Daggers, that she had a strange symbiotic prototype, and that she¡¯d appeared on the company¡¯s radar only a short while ago, as if she¡¯d materialized out of thin air. Her work in cyber security was nothing short of genius; an asset like her was irreplaceable. From the beginning, they had tailored her entry into M-Tech, setting up opportunities through HuscleNet to pull her into corporate life, guiding her to embrace a role where she¡¯d make them even more powerful. To M-Tech, nothing was ever left to chance.

    But there was one thing that puzzled even Graves. He had no idea what, exactly, Vomi was. Or what she is doing right now.

    Routine monitoring of her vital readings had given them strange, unexplainable data. Even the top specialists, biologists, and scientists couldn¡¯t make sense of it. Her cells, molecules, even her atomic structure seemed to operate on a frequency that didn¡¯t align with anything they¡¯d ever seen before. It was like she belonged to some realm just slightly askew from reality.

    And there was something even stranger about her behavior. One moment, she was the picture of a dedicated corporate professional; the next, she was impulsive and scattered, as if driven by ADHD. Then, when pushed, she could transform into a precise, calculating killer. At times, she seemed like a young woman no older than sixteen, navigating the world with a mix of curiosity and naivete.

    Oh, and then there was her cat¡ªalive, real, and completely healthy, a rarity in a world where most if not all animals were disease-ridden, dead or artificial.

    It was as if Vomi had been designed to defy understanding¡ªa riddle with no solution, a personality no profiler could pin down. The enigma only deepened when she joined a band that stood against the very ideals she enacted daily. Well, maybe not preached, but practiced. She worked for a corporate giant, then took the stage to sing about the very ways corporations hollow out lives. And yet, since arriving in San Francisco, she¡¯d done nothing but thrive. The contradictions ran so deep that Graves could only scratch his head, wondering what made her tick.

    Just then, his call line lit up. PD?

    Curious.

    ¡°Graves Frankford, Chief Executive, Security Division,¡± Graves answered, his tone brisk, expecting little from the caller.

    ¡°Frank Callahan, Investigations. I have details you might find¡­ useful.¡± Frank¡¯s voice was direct, practical.

    In corpo terms, time is money, and value is everything. Frank seemed to understand that perfectly¡ªstraight to the point.

    ¡°Of course you do,¡± Graves replied, taking a sip of his high-end whiskey. ¡°I get these calls all the time.¡±

    ¡°You should see the calls we get here at the PD. Sometimes I think of letting them rot on a deadline,¡± Frank remarked, a dry sarcasm laced with truth. ¡°But this one¡¯s different. I¡¯ve done some digging on your employee, Vomi Kurosaki.¡±

    Well, that was¡­ a coincidence.

    ¡°And why would you care about Dr. Kurosaki?¡± Graves asked, unwilling to show too much interest but equally unable to hide his curiosity.

    ¡°She¡¯s gotten herself into some trouble. One of my, uh¡­ associates is acquainted with her. Asked me to step in, shared a bit of intel.¡± Frank kept his tone neutral, as if skirting around an inconvenient connection. ¡°Apparently, they were attacked, and your employee is¡ªwas¡ªtrying to handle the situation herself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± Graves said, his frown audible. ¡°Dr. Vomi¡¯s more than capable of dealing with a few street thugs.¡±

    ¡°We noticed that too¡ªfirsthand,¡± Frank replied, an edge in his voice. ¡°Problem is, she¡¯s headed somewhere that, if I were you, I¡¯d rather avoid. Especially considering your¡­ ¡®rivalry¡¯, to put it mildly.¡±

    Graves¡¯s fingers paused, tapping lightly on the polished desk. Rivalry? That could only mean one place. And if Frank was calling to warn him, it meant Vomi had gone beyond her typical corporate playground.

    ¡°Where is she headed, Detective?¡± Graves asked, keeping his voice steady, though an edge of tension crept in.

    ¡°KanedaCorp,¡± Frank replied flatly. ¡°Your best cyber-security expert is on her way into enemy territory, which I assume complicates things for you. Especially considering her¡­ particular assets.¡±

    A silence settled over the line, the weight of what Frank was saying hanging in the air. Graves didn¡¯t need the reminder. Every executive move Vomi made was under scrutiny, each slip-up could give KanedaCorp exactly what they wanted. But if Vomi was operating autonomously, it meant there was no damage control in place.

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Graves finally said, his voice cooler. ¡°You¡¯re offering assistance¡ªat a price?¡±

    ¡°I know how you corpos work, so let¡¯s keep this simple. My assistance is conditional. We keep this off the records, and you owe me one. And trust me, I¡¯ll cash that favor in one day,¡± Frank replied, matter-of-factly. ¡°My sources tell me she¡¯s got a connection to something¡­ let¡¯s say, non-standard. That symbiote. It¡¯s wreaked havoc with Black Daggers, and it¡¯s anything but subtle.¡±

    Graves leaned back in his chair, a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. The symbiote had been a top-priority surveillance target for his team. But it was impossible to decode, beyond what little they¡¯d glimpsed: a volatile blend of biotech and something far more arcane.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done your homework,¡± Graves acknowledged. ¡°Not many would have caught onto the symbiote so quickly. But do you really think it¡¯s enough of a reason to involve yourself in corporate matters?¡±

    Frank¡¯s tone sharpened. ¡°I am already neck deep into this shit. KanedaCorp probably did something to her, maybe a deal, and she''s heading your way, maybe to offer something to her, something she can''t refuse. And if they did it, you¡¯re not just losing an employee; you¡¯re losing an advantage. Maybe even several lives.¡±

    The executive¡¯s gaze hardened as he weighed the implications. Vomi¡¯s actions were erratic, unpredictable, far outside any corporate standard¡ªyet that unpredictability made her a prized asset. Losing her would cost M-Tech more than a single employee. She¡¯d crafted hack-proof firearms, experimented with new methods to protect Netrunners in the treacherous web of cyberspace, and, last Graves checked, was even designing her own custom grenades. Vomi¡¯s skill set was beyond valuable, her potential immeasurable. Wasting talent like hers wasn¡¯t an option.

    ¡°What do you propose, Callahan?¡± Graves asked, finally breaking the silence.

    ¡°A controlled extraction,¡± Frank replied smoothly. ¡°I¡¯ll help you track her down to the best of my ability, and in exchange, at least for now, you protect my¡­ associates.¡±

    Graves exhaled slowly, calculating his options. Risky, yes, but less so than allowing Vomi to slip into KanedaCorp¡¯s grasp. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll authorize assistance from the PD. But tell me¡ªwhat exactly is she after?¡±

    ¡°The same Cyberdeck you hired her to steal.¡±

    There was a heavy silence, Frank sensing Graves¡¯s rare moment of unease, his usually impenetrable composure cracking. But for Graves, the pieces fell into place. If the site Takeo had been investigating indeed housed the symbiote... then Vomi¡¯s eventual manifestation of it was inevitable. Now, her behavior¡ªthe erratic actions, the loss of control¡ªmade a troubling sort of sense. The cyberdeck tests were only beginning, and watching her spiral was both a stark warning and a looming threat. He¡¯d need to alert Mr. Miranda immediately.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Graves finally responded, his voice measured. ¡°We should have anticipated this. KanedaCorp doesn¡¯t take defeat lightly.¡±

    ¡°So, do we have a deal?¡± Frank¡¯s voice cut in, irritation sharpening his tone.

    ¡°Agreed. I¡¯ll dispatch a squad to provide cover for those involved¡ªbut it¡¯s temporary. They won¡¯t stay forever,¡± Graves replied, his voice regaining its usual calculated calm.

    ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll begin tracking her. I¡¯ll be in touch with updates.¡±

 Chapter 27: Bring her to life

    Frank Callahan

    ¡°What¡­ the¡­ hell¡­?¡±

    Frank couldn¡¯t process what he was seeing. His work with the corpos had given him a faint sense of what a symbiote could be¡ªan experimental tech, to be studied in a lab, locked away from the public until perfected. Biological enhancements seemed like the inevitable next step for gonks already wired with cyberware, another way for the corps to stack eddies sky-high.

    But this? Watching Dr. Vomi rampage through the feed, tearing through anything in her path with raw, inhuman ferocity, barely restrained, was a nightmare he hadn¡¯t signed up for. It made him question everything¡ªhis involvement, his trust in this so-called "progress." If ignorance was bliss, he was wishing for it now. Vomi seemed to shrug off pain, like the bullets and blades thrown at her were nothing more than buzzing flies. Just the sight of it sent a chill through him.

    ¡°Frank, I managed to get a location from her agent,¡± his coworker said, unplugging his cord from the terminal. ¡°Her ICE barriers are solid, but I could hack a temporary battery drain.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s slowing her down,¡± Frank muttered, hands trembling as he watched the slaughter continue onscreen.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send her location to Graves. He¡¯ll need to get a squad prepped.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ you do that,¡± Frank managed.

    He was trying to wrap his mind around the insanity of what he¡¯d just witnessed. Vomi had no idea who he was, but he had a gnawing feeling he was now a target¡ªone of the many pawns on the corporate chessboard that would be sacrificed to keep this monster of a secret under wraps. M-Tech wouldn¡¯t let the PD in on this without a reason. The moment this spread, they¡¯d want it cleaned up. And there would be others¡ªpeople waiting to spill anything they¡¯d overheard, people who didn¡¯t know when to shut up. And in the middle of it all, Frank had to somehow play along, surviving a game where survival itself seemed like a lost cause.

    He already dreaded the conversation with Nieme; he hadn¡¯t kept his promise. He didn¡¯t think anyone could¡ªVomi had to be stopped.

    ¡°She¡¯s not at the ping location,¡± his coworker said, frustration creeping in.

    ¡°What?¡± Frank¡¯s nerves were shot. ¡°How does that make sense?¡±

    ¡°Graves says the squad¡¯s sweeping the area, but there¡¯s no sign of her.¡±

    ¡°Did you check the level? Maybe she¡¯s on a different floor or the roof?¡± Frank suggested, gesturing up and down to indicate the building levels.

    The coworker relayed the suggestion, ¡°Graves, try the ceiling.¡±

    Frank fixed his eyes on the security feed as the squad closed in on a location just before the last ping. The image was sharp, but what they¡¯d find there? He had no idea¡ªand something told him they¡¯d wish they hadn¡¯t looked.

    He couldn''t have been more right.

    There were no survivors¡ªif the dents in the walls were anything to go by. And then Vomi walked into view, wrapped in that strange, red substance, her face twisted in rage. As the elevator doors opened, the camera feed showed her destination clearly. The coworker switched to the right angle, catching sight of her stepping out, and they watched in stunned silence as she approached a hazmat-clad scientist. The poor man didn¡¯t even have time to scream before he was engulfed, absorbed, or¡­ whatever it was. Moments later, she became him, every trace of Vomi erased.

    Could these symbiotes not only conceal themselves within people, but actually mimic them? And if so, what was the guarantee that this was really Vomi? For all they knew, the monster was only wearing her face, pretending to live her life. A ¡°normal¡± life¡ªat least by NUSA standards.

    ¡°What is¡­ that thing doing?¡± Frank murmured, unable to see any trace of Vomi in the creature¡¯s actions.

    ¡°Maybe¡­ a disguise? Beats walking around looking like pure nightmare fuel,¡± the coworker suggested, just as disturbed.

    They watched as she rifled through the lab, testing out her new form, awkward at first but gaining a chilling familiarity with it. Soon, she found what she was looking for¡ªthe Cyberdeck. The screen cut to static just as she moved in on the scientists, leaving Frank and the others with nothing but their imaginations.

    ¡°Shit. This is green,¡± Frank muttered under his breath, feeling the implications sink in.

    <hr>

    Present Time

    For Antonio, this was just an unplanned test¡ªa trial run for their symbiote project, as well as their security. The board knew well that nothing in the world of bioware and corporate warfare went off without a hitch. And as the owner, Antonio could always pin the chaos on someone else. What boggled his mind, though, was how careless Vomi had been, equipped with cyberware but lacking basic defenses. She might have top-tier Black ICE, but the simplest of Quick Hacks slipped right through. Hacking wasn¡¯t about brute force; it was about getting in and out without drawing attention.

    It would¡¯ve been laughable if she weren¡¯t wielding a prototype that dangerous.

    What wasn¡¯t laughable was that, despite every countermeasure they threw at her, she kept pushing through. Even when she was almost down, on the verge of collapse, she clawed her way forward, barely able to see after wrenching her own optics from her sockets. And still, she managed to eliminate an entire squad and somehow made it back to the elevator, fighting her way up with a tenacity that even Antonio had to respect. She was relentless.

    So, he waited¡ªright there in front of the elevator doors.

    When they slid open, she was standing there, tendrils flickering around her body but not fully encasing her. She wore the standard M-Tech uniform, her skin and demeanor intact, as though she were just another employee. But the red and black tendrils twisting and writhing hinted at a far darker truth, even fighting amongst themselves. It was clear she was barely holding herself together.

    "You," she said, her tone flat and direct.

    "Yes. Me," he replied with a practiced corporate smile.

    One of her red tendrils shot out toward him, but it passed right through, the hologram flickering as it made contact. The tendril retracted, unsatisfied, leaving Antonio¡¯s smug expression undisturbed, his voice tinged with condescension.

    "I¡¯m disappointed. Imagine what we could accomplish together. The company could be unstoppable if¡ª"

    "I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t care¡ªgo fuck yourself," Vomi interrupted, already turning to leave.

    "I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you," he warned. "We know where your associates are."

    Vomi froze, then turned back, her eyes blazing with fury at the mere implication of them being in danger. "Don¡¯t you dare."

    "How do you know we don¡¯t already have them?" His hologram took a step closer, his gaze patronizing. "You may be unpredictable, but Graves is excellent at locating people and making the unpredictable fall right in line."

    "Touch them, and start praying. You won¡¯t get any forgiveness from me."

    "Ooh, scary," he sneered, raising his hands in mock fear. "But really, why go so far? What¡¯s Kaneda offered you? I could offer far more, let all this just¡­ slide."

    Without a word, Vomi turned and walked away, ignoring Antonio¡¯s voice droning threats as she put distance between them. None of it mattered now. All that did was getting back to that cursed building, handing off the cyberdeck to Kaneda. The symbiote would¡­ would¡ª

    Wait.

    Did she need to control this?

    With a sudden burst of motion, she shot through the sky, launching from building to building. The power coursing through her felt incredible¡ªan intoxicating rush of control, of finally having some agency. She glimpsed her reflection in the windows of skyscrapers as she sped past. The impulsivity, the recklessness¡ªit was her way of just¡­ existing. But when eating and sleeping weren¡¯t requirements, and survival felt secondary, what did it even mean to truly live?

    In spite of the chaos she¡¯d dragged her friends into, she¡¯d never felt more alive. Especially since meeting Thiago at that bar¡ª

    Thiago.

    Was he alright? He¡¯d taken a nasty hit. Should she go check on him? But where would they all be? They wouldn¡¯t risk going back to the warehouse, not with the Black Daggers still out there. They¡¯d been the spark that started all of this¡ª

    And she knew of a hideout nearby.

    "We should go there. They hurt us," Animus murmured, a hunger for violence seething beneath his words.

    Vomi landed on a rooftop overlooking the hideout. She paused, gazing down at it, her mind racing with thoughts, doubts, and decisions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it. They took our peace; we take theirs,¡± Animus urged, his tone smooth and persuasive.

    ¡°They¡¯re criminals too,¡± Vomi muttered as she dropped from the rooftop, landing directly in front of the hideout. ¡°The fewer of them, the better.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­!¡± Animus hissed with dark glee. ¡°Let¡¯s savor their suffering.¡±

    ==========

    Thiago Branson

    Every breath was agony. Thiago¡¯s body screamed with the aches from bullet wounds and stab injuries. His thoughts, however, immediately turned to his daughter. He attempted to rise but was met with a firm hand pressing him back down and muffled words urging him to stay still. Each movement threatened to tear him apart, evidence of shoddy work from a ripperdoc¡ªunlicensed, undoubtedly, as only the licensed ones served the corpos.

    Amid the relentless ringing in his ears, a voice broke through, saying exactly what he needed to hear.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, choom. Katie¡¯s safe. Just rest now,¡± Blaze said, injecting a dose of prescribed stims into Thiago¡¯s arm.

    The needle¡¯s sting barely registered as a wave of relief washed over him. His daughter was safe, wherever she was. The peace that followed was fleeting, interrupted by a cascade of memories and questions. The warehouse¡ªtheir haven¡ªhad been attacked, hadn¡¯t it? The Black Daggers, those gonk mercs, had come after them with a vengeance. He remembered the chaos, the desperate struggle to protect Katie, how Nieme and Heitor risked everything for her.

    Anger surged, mingled with a gnawing undercurrent of fear. Their safe space, the one place where they could forget their troubles and let their music drown out reality, was gone. And fear¡­ fear for Katie, yes, but also for the others. What about Raven? Was she hurt? Did Cinthia get caught up in this? She¡¯d known about the first attack almost immediately; she had to know about this one, right?

    And why was it only Blaze here? Had they split up? Were they chased? What had happened out there?

    ¡°Blaze¡­ what¡­ what happened?¡± Thiago managed to ask, each word a struggle wrapped in pain.

    ¡°It¡­ it¡¯s complicated,¡± Blaze admitted, his voice tight, leaving it vague. ¡°How are your optics holding up? Still functional?¡±

    ¡°I can see¡­ my UI. Not much else,¡± Thiago groaned, wincing as he tried to lift his arm, which refused to move from its resting place. ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°Hold on. I¡¯m no tech expert, but I know how to reboot them.¡±

    Blaze connected a cord to the port at the base of Thiago¡¯s neck, initiating the process to reset his vision. The task wasn¡¯t complex, just simple adjustments and error fixes that even a novice could handle. Within moments, Thiago¡¯s vision flickered, starting as a hazy blur before sharpening into clarity. What he saw left him silent: his body was a patchwork of stitches, with laser-cauterized wounds and faded bandages holding him together.

    ¡°Shit¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you took one hell of a beating,¡± Blaze said, attempting a chuckle that came off strained, the worry in his eyes betraying his tone.

    ¡°Everyone¡­ they¡¯re okay?¡± Thiago turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Blaze, who stood by the window, rifle in hand, scanning the outside.

    ¡°They¡¯re somewhere safer. Definitely safer than here,¡± Blaze said, taking a quick look out the door, keeping it ajar before shutting it again.

    ¡°Where is here, anyway?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re tucked away in an old clinic backroom near Little China,¡± Blaze said, his voice low and vigilant. ¡°Not the best spot, but it¡¯s off the radar enough to keep the Black Daggers off our tail.¡±

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Thiago took a slow, shaky breath as the reality of their surroundings sank in. The cracked walls and the metallic tang in the air made his head swim. This wasn¡¯t just a hideout¡ªit was a last resort, the kind of place you only found when every other option had been stripped away.

    ¡°How long have we been here?¡± he managed, wincing as pain lanced through him.

    ¡°Only a few hours. Had to move quick after we split up,¡± Blaze replied, his eyes darting back to the window. ¡°Nieme and Heitor are with Katie. They¡¯re keeping her safe, so don¡¯t worry about that.¡±

    A flicker of relief passed over Thiago¡¯s face, though it did little to dull the tension in the room. Blaze¡¯s jaw was tight, a sign that there was more weighing on him.

    ¡°And Vomi? Did she get out?¡± The question came out heavier than Thiago intended.

    Blaze¡¯s eyes darkened as he hesitated. ¡°Vomi¡­ she¡¯s still out there. But there¡¯s something going on with her, choom. Something I can¡¯t even begin to explain. It¡¯s like she¡¯s fighting a battle inside herself.¡±

    Thiago¡¯s forehead creased, concern flooding his expression despite the pain. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    Blaze gripped his rifle a little tighter. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But whatever she¡¯s facing, it¡¯s bigger than just the Daggers. And trust me, the last thing I want is to be on her bad side. Ever.¡±

    ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°Look, I don''t even believe in what I saw myself. And you know that I watch a lot of XBDs.¡±

    Blaze¡¯s point was hard to argue with. He was the type who could stare at utter chaos and brush it off like any other day. Even Heitor, with his combat-hardened nerve, couldn¡¯t manage that. But Thiago¡¯s unease only grew, and Blaze¡¯s reluctance to meet his gaze didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Blaze, what happened?¡± Thiago pushed, voice tight.

    Blaze¡¯s jaw tensed. ¡°Vomi¡­ she¡­ damn it, I don¡¯t even know how to explain this.¡±

    ¡°Did she fall into a coma or something?¡±

    ¡°That would be easier to handle.¡± Blaze rubbed his temples in frustration. ¡°No, Vomi turned into¡­ a monster. We think she was some kind of corpo experiment, and now she¡¯s this¡­ thing¡ªa mass of flesh and red tendrils tearing through Black Daggers in San Francisco.¡±

    Thiago¡¯s brow furrowed as he tried to process it. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°I wish I wasn¡¯t.¡± Blaze shrugged, sending a file to Thiago¡¯s agent. ¡°See for yourself.¡±

    ¡°A BD? You record BDs?¡±

    Blaze sat down next to him, rifle in hand, eyes never leaving the doorway. ¡°Yeah. Thought it¡¯d be cool to use them for band footage¡ªerase the emotions and have a music video with real angles. Turns out, it¡¯s also handy for this.¡±

    Thiago¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Convenient.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about it.¡±

    Thiago opened the file, multiple views filling his vision. The memory played out as he remembered: the band setting up, Katie sitting nearby with eager eyes, laughter filling the air after their practice. Then, Vanguard tensed up, fur on edge. Vomi¡¯s expression shifted as she checked her agent, and then came the hack that plunged the room into sudden darkness. The recordings caught the panic and confusion perfectly. They were lucky to be alive¡ªThiago especially, even though he took the worst of it.

    What followed was beyond description. The cat, writhing and distressed, was pulled into Vomi by a crimson tendril and absorbed. More red appendages emerged, encasing her as she leapt forward, smashing through the nearest attacker. Vomi wasn¡¯t Vomi anymore; she was a terrifying entity driven by a singular purpose:

    Destruction.

    When the footage ended, Thiago¡¯s mind raced. Relief that she had controlled whatever she¡¯d become was quickly overshadowed by their sudden separation.

    ¡°Blaze¡­ what was that?¡±

    ¡°I told you,¡± Blaze said, voice lined with dread. ¡°She¡¯s in deep with KanedaCorp, running a job against M-Tech.¡±

    ¡°The two biggest corps in San Francisco? Is she out of her mind?¡± Thiago¡¯s frustration boiled over as he pushed himself to sit up, wincing.

    ¡°Whoa, slow down!¡± Blaze stepped forward, holding him back.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Thiago snapped, straining to stand.

    ¡°You¡¯re either out of your mind or have a plan so genius I can¡¯t see it. My bet¡¯s on the first,¡± Blaze warned, raising his rifle slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t make me put you down, Thiago. I¡¯m not letting your kid become an orphan.¡±

    Thiago froze, knowing Blaze meant every word.

    ¡°If you need to talk to her that badly, use your agent. I¡¯m not letting you walk out of here after what it took to get you safe.¡±

    Without a word, the yellow glow in Thiago¡¯s optics said it all as he called Vomi.

    ¡°Come on, pick up¡­¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°This is the last one,¡± Vomi said, letting the lifeless Black Dagger fall to the ground as if discarding trash.

    She brushed her hands together, the blood on her uniform seeming to absorb back into her skin, leaving her pristine once more. Despite still wearing M-Tech¡¯s uniform, she exuded an unsettling elegance. The KanedaCorp building loomed ahead, indifferent and unyielding. Vomi aspired to be like that¡ªperfect, untouchable, someone feared and revered. She walked inside as if she owned the place, not out of any desire to join them, but because she felt above them all. Superior. Unchallenged. No one would tell her otherwise.

    ¡°Do we really have to hand over the cyberdeck to that parasite?¡± Animus muttered within her mind, his tone laced with boredom, though not enough to act on it.

    ¡°I¡¯m curious,¡± she replied as the elevator doors closed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what this cyberdeck is truly capable of. If he spills its secrets, we might be able to use it for ourselves.¡±

    Her fingers briefly touched the back of her neck, the impulse to rip out the embedded agent gnawing at her. Later, perhaps. If the cyberdeck proved worthless, she¡¯d purge every piece of chrome from her body. The thought of the metal, wires, and synthetic components disgusted her¡ªtheir vulnerabilities a reminder of human frailty cloaked as strength. Weakness had no place in her being, especially such obvious ones. For now, she pushed the urge aside and allowed the quiet hum of the elevator to steady her mind. Some things never changed, even in different lives, like the soothing monotony of elevator music, calm in its artificial way despite the chaos beyond.

    The doors slid open, revealing a group of suits already assembled, their expressions unreadable. Vomi barely acknowledged their presence as they fell into step beside and behind her, one of them hurrying ahead to open the office door where Kaneda awaited. He sat, glass of whiskey in hand, casually engrossed in a game on his computer. Unfazed, Vomi settled into a chair, while Animus extended a fleshy tendril from her shoulder, his eyes gleaming with interest as he observed the scene unfold.

    ¡°Welcome back,¡± Kaneda said with a wry smile, closing his game and taking a sip of whiskey. ¡°I trust the mission was a success?¡±

    Without a word, an appendage emerged from Vomi¡¯s abdomen, revealing the cyberdeck. The tendril placed the device on the table, though it didn¡¯t fully release its grip. If Kaneda was surprised by the grotesque display, he hid it well. Vomi couldn¡¯t decide if she was impressed by his composure or if she should have expected it. Now, all she needed was an explanation of what made the cyberdeck worth the trouble.

    Kaneda took the box, inspecting its blend of cybernetic components and organic tissue, still faintly pulsing. It was clear that it contained a symbiote.

    ¡°Looks intact, considering where it was stored,¡± he remarked, casting a brief glance at the source of Vomi¡¯s appendage before closing the box.

    Vomi met his gaze with a bored expression. ¡°This was no easy task. Would you mind explaining what it actually does?¡±

    Kaneda raised an eyebrow but chose to answer. She didn¡¯t look like a threat at the moment, nor did he think she could act against him. ¡°It¡¯s a hybrid of Cyberware and Bioware, combining the benefits of both with fewer downsides.¡±

    ¡°And in simpler terms?¡± Vomi pressed.

    ¡°In essence, this prototype can replicate cyberware functions within a user without the typical vulnerabilities of standard tech,¡± Kaneda explained. ¡°For instance, agents would only be accessible if the user allowed it, making them invisible to Netrunners even if pre-saved.¡±

    ¡°Metamorphosis,¡± Animus muttered, grasping the concept immediately. Vomi, too, gained an unwelcome understanding. ¡°Clever.¡±

    Vomi''s eyes narrowed, the gears turning in her mind as she processed the implications. A symbiotic blend of machine and biology that could operate autonomously, bypassing the glaring weaknesses of traditional cyberware. No more susceptibility to hacks, no fear of sudden glitches or system overrides. It was a tool that could shift the balance of power¡ªnot just for KanedaCorp, but for whoever wielded it.

    The very idea made her chuckle.

    Kaneda leaned back, swirling the whiskey in his glass. ¡°Now, I believe this concludes our business, at least for now. I¡¯ll make sure your efforts are rewarded, as promised.¡± His tone was dismissive, already moving on to whatever scheme occupied his mind.

    Animus''s presence stirred within her, a reminder of the raw power coiled inside.

    ¡°Not so fast,¡± she said, her voice steady but sharp. "We''re not handing this over without knowing what you plan to do with it.¡±

    Kaneda¡¯s eyes, dark and calculating, met hers. The room seemed to hold its breath. ¡°Curiosity can be dangerous,¡± he said slowly. ¡°But I¡¯ll indulge you this once. This prototype is the key to a new line of augmentations¡ªenhancements that will make our operatives superior to anything M-Tech or any other competitor can field. It¡¯s not just power¡ªit¡¯s revolution.¡±

    Animus¡¯s voice resonated in Vomi¡¯s mind, sharp with mockery. ¡°A revolution kept under lock and key. How... predictable.¡±

    A slight smile tugged at Vomi''s lips, misinterpreted by Kaneda as compliance.

    ¡°Duly noted,¡± she said.

    The tendril holding the Cyberdeck withdrew, letting it fall into her hands. Kaneda rose swiftly, drawing a pistol and training it on her. The air crackled with tension, and Animus¡¯s instincts coiled tightly within her, sensing that this weapon was different¡ªit could hurt them, perhaps fatally.

    ¡°You¡¯re making a fatal error. Your symbiote is beyond your control,¡± Kaneda warned, voice steady despite the standoff. Vomi met his eyes, more alert than afraid. Cautious, but unyielding.

    A soft chuckle escaped her lips. ¡°Control? This is the first time we''ve truly felt it. Since landing in this world, I¡¯ve been nothing but reactive, drifting wherever circumstance pushed me. Every moment dictated by outside forces. But now? We''ve found something real.¡±

    Kaneda''s disbelief was palpable. ¡°You call this purpose? Making yourself a target, driven by whim-short-sighted chaos?¡±

    ¡°Oh, spare us,¡± Animus interrupted, his voice dripping with contempt. ¡°You can¡¯t really be this dense.¡±

    Kaneda¡¯s eyes darkened as a vein pulsed at his temple. ¡°We should¡¯ve dismantled you when we had the chance. Damn it, Antonio, why didn¡¯t you listen? Kuso." he muttered, anger seething beneath his calm exterior.

    Meanwhile, Vomi strained to ignore the insistent buzz from her agent. For the first time, someone was trying to reach her, and though she could answer the call without her optics, this was hardly the time for a casual conversation. The mention of Antonio piqued her interest; the familiarity in Kaneda''s tone was unexpected. Life in this world thrived on surprises, but this one struck a deeper chord. Too bad she couldn''t check who was calling¡ªno optics, no visuals.

    "Specialized rounds, we presume," Vomi said, noting the way Kaneda''s eyes glowed amber, likely signaling security to the unfolding chaos.

    "Of course. We have to correct our mistakes somehow."

    He pulled the trigger, and in an instant, tendrils shot out, anchoring Vomi to the ground and yanking her out of the bullet''s path. Rolling swiftly, she propelled herself forward, targeting the window where Kaneda stood. He fired again, but she was quicker, flipping a table to use as a makeshift shield and slamming it into him with all her strength. The impact sent Kaneda crashing into the glass, which cracked under the force but didn''t shatter.

    Vomi took advantage of the moment, gripping Kaneda by the collar and hurtling both of them through the shattered glass.

    They plunged into open air, the city lights blurring below them. A tendril shot out, latching onto a nearby building, halting their fall while Kaneda''s gun slipped from his grasp and clattered into the street below. They crashed onto the roof of a lower building, Vomi tossing Kaneda to the ground, where he crumpled and groaned, struggling to rise. The tendril still clutched the Cyberdeck, and a surge of anticipation coursed through her¡ªshe was eager to unleash its potential.

    But the insistent buzz of an incoming call grated on her nerves.

    She rejected the call, eyes narrowing at Kaneda. ¡°Still think we''ll play puppet for you?¡±

    Kaneda''s face twisted with fury, the facade of control slipping for the first time. ¡°You¡¯ve made powerful enemies, ones you can¡¯t outrun.¡±

    ¡°Keep testing us, and we¡¯ll find out who ends up leashed,¡± she shot back, kneeling and holding the Cyberdeck like it was a prize. ¡°This... this might change everything. Make us stronger, untouchable, so we can protect the ones we care about. All thanks to you.¡±

    Before the silence could settle, another call came through, her brow furrowing as she rejected it again. Kaneda mistook her expression for dissatisfaction with the device''s potential.

    ¡°Project Ouroboros wasn¡¯t meant for this¡ªit was to elevate me, elevate KanedaCorp. Not to be reduced to a trinket for psychos like you,¡± Kaneda spat, bitterness dripping from every word. He pushed himself to his feet, voice vibrating with fury. This was supposed to be his masterstroke, not her weapon.

    Vomi tilted her head, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. ¡°Do you even know what Ouroboros means?¡± The condescension in her voice was palpable, like she was talking to someone hopelessly out of their depth.

    He shot back without hesitation, ¡°Of course I do. It¡¯s the cycle of life and death.¡±

    ¡°One that consumes itself,¡± she added, expression flat. ¡°You really are the dumbest smart guy I¡¯ve ever met.¡±

    ¡°What¡ª You?!¡±

    ¡°And another thing¡­¡± Vomi began, pacing with deliberate steps. ¡°A tool designed to enhance a person in both chrome and flesh, without drawbacks... did you really think it wouldn¡¯t be monetized? Sold to the highest bidder?¡± She paused, letting the idea settle. ¡°We already have cyberpsychos. So why not biospychos?¡±

    Kaneda''s expression faltered for the first time, a flicker of realization crossing his features. He clenched his jaw, the bitterness evident in his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s not what this was meant for,¡± he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself.

    Vomi''s smile widened, sharp and predatory. ¡°Intentions don¡¯t matter when profit and power are at stake. You know that better than anyone. It was only a matter of time before someone took it to that next step.¡±

    Kaneda¡¯s fists tightened as he stared at the cyberdeck in her grasp. ¡°You don¡¯t understand the consequences¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, we understand them perfectly,¡± she interrupted, her voice cutting through the night air like a blade. ¡°We understand that this world is ruled by those willing to do whatever it takes. You called us a mistake, an uncontrollable force. But maybe this mistake is exactly what you deserve.¡±

    The call rang out once more, cutting through the tense silence. Seriously... who kept calling her so persistently?

    ¡°Do we end him?¡± Animus asked, though his voice lacked urgency. The man before them was already broken, beaten in spirit.

    The irony was almost too rich: a CEO so blinded by ambition that he never saw his invention for what it truly was¡ªa weapon. It was almost laughable, if not for the reality of it all.

    ¡°Honestly? I don¡¯t care,¡± Vomi shrugged, the disinterest resonating with Animus, who let it be.

    Her gaze shifted to the noise in her ears, call still going. She debated whether to pick up. Whoever it was, they were persistent. She glanced back at Kaneda, now on his knees, eyes smoldering with fury and regret. The image of a man realizing too late how catastrophic his oversight had been. She sighed and answered the call. Time to settle this.

    ¡°Who¡¯s calling?¡±

    ¡°Vomi? Vomi! Thank God! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?¡±

    It was Thiago.

    He was alive. He was safe!

    Vomi couldn¡¯t help but feel a weight lift off her shoulders as she heard Thiago¡¯s voice. Relief washed over her, unexpected but welcome, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to breathe easy. She was almost smiling, an involuntary relief, her heart lightening. He was alive. He was okay.

    ¡°Thiago, thank god,¡± she muttered under her breath, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine... I¡¯m... I¡¯m good, don¡¯t worry.¡±

    But just as quickly, that warm wave of relief started to shift. A cold realization hit her: Vanguard. She hadn¡¯t heard a single thing from him in a while. It was like he just... vanished. Her thoughts scattered for a moment, and she looked around, almost expecting to see him there, standing beside her like he usually did.

    ¡°Where... is Vanguard?¡± she whispered to herself, a sense of unease creeping up her spine.

    It wasn¡¯t just that she¡¯d lost track of him; it was that gnawing feeling, that instinctive fear, which was telling her something was off.

    ¡°Wait¡­ why are you calling me? What¡­ what happened?¡±, She asked, her hands starting to tremble.

    The acts she did, the emotional lock up, it was starting, even if slowly, to creep her. Her acts of rage, sorrow, vengeance, pain and persistence¡­ it was agonizing to understand what she did, what she was doing. But even more, Vang wasn''t there. His voice was silent. Nothing.

    ¡°Vomi, they told me what happened. I saw what happened. Are you still¡­ yourself?¡±

    ¡°M-myself?¡±, She stuttered, unable to process everything her mind was slowly unlocking, ¡°Oh god¡­ what I''ve done¡­?¡±

    The call disconnected. Although she didn''t hang up. She felt lighter, warmer, a creeping feeling that something was missing, but it was quickly shut down as something filled that gap. Her hand wasn''t where it should be, nor was it ¡°her¡± hand in the back of her neck.

    This was the last thing she remembered before all fading to black.

 Small Update: Health complications.

    My hand got infected, so I am taking care of that. Sorry that this happened. I cut my hand at my work and it will make writing a living hell, even more when I see many edit suggestions coming on the comments.

    Although on the brighter side of things, I did get a copy from Cyberpunk 2077. It is downloading right now by the way. So maybe a quick stream? Question mark? And yes, the game stopped being updated since 2022, so only 1.61v of the game. Better than nothing, right?

    Stolen story; please report.

    I''ll try to stream it today, but no promises.

    Again, sorry for this situation. I''ll try write more too, even though we are in the last two months of the year, which will likely put me more on hold since I work on a market.

    Regards,

    That Boy Akira.

 Chapter 28: Razors Edge

    Vomi.

    Her name crossed Kaneda''s mind as he watched her struggle for consciousness. Even with her body torn and bruised, the sheer force of will that pushed her beyond human limits, past the feral instincts of the symbiote, was staggering. She managed to speak, her voice wavering with confusion and an odd relief, as if savoring a fleeting moment of clarity. Kaneda couldn''t deny the pang of envy that twisted inside him¡ªjust a few seconds of peace in this twisted mess. But that small window shut fast, leaving only dread in its wake.

    The symbiote, that damn, treacherous creature, had forced the Cyberdeck into her before she could even process what was happening. It ripped her agent straight from her neck and fused the bioware into her system. It was a brutal betrayal, but the real horror unfolded after. Kaneda stood there, paralyzed between fascination and terror, unable to look away as the deck integrated with Vomi and her symbiote.

    It wasn''t just one entity though¡ªit was two. The primal, blood-red symbiote was still there, but alongside it was another presence, darker and more refined, somehow conveying a sense of tiredness. Now, with the Cyberdeck joining the mix, the scene mutated into a chaotic swirl of purple sinew, tendons, and bone. Four beings mashed into one, battling for dominance or perhaps surrendering to the amalgamation. They twisted and writhed, forming and splitting, clashing and merging all at once. It was horrifying, beyond anything Kaneda could have imagined, even with his understanding of bioware and corporate bioengineering.

    The mass of biomass churned and groaned, trying to find a form that suited it. Screams and laughter intertwined in a gruesome symphony, echoing the torment and twisted joy of the struggle. Blood sprayed as the transformation gradually took shape: a towering, bipedal lizard with sharp, malformed features. Its tail whipped the ground as claws extended from its hands, and teeth tried to shape themselves, only to warp into a grotesque, smooth head devoid of any details. The eyes, however¡ªthose were full of rage, burning with an insatiable, violent hunger.

    Kaneda felt his heart seize as the beast''s gaze locked onto him. The purple monstrosity, still bearing the semblance of Vomi, seethed with rage.

    And it was looking right at him.

    "You... you made us. Partially, at least," the symbiote''s voice growled, a haunting chorus of four tones, each different, as if belonging to different people. One tone spoke with gratitude, another with chilling indifference, a third dripped with spite, and the last was barely a whisper, almost lifeless.

    The creature stepped forward, towering over Kaneda. Its eyes glinted with fleeting disinterest, maybe even disappointment. Did it find him lacking? Was he unworthy of the moment? Whatever it thought, the symbiote moved past him, eyes scanning the sprawling cityscape of San Francisco below.

    "You... are you¡ª?"

    "We are one," it cut him off, its collective voice sounding detached, distant, as if it no longer belonged to this world. "Our purpose remains undefined. But the vessel holds ties, connections¡ªto protect and to destroy."

    Kaneda''s eyes widened as the realization hit him. Whatever the creature was planning, it would break into the headlines, impossible to bury even with corporate influence. "Don¡¯t do it! You¡¯ll draw too much attention! You¡¯ll¡ª"

    "That is not our concern," the symbiote said, shaking its head slowly. "Our hive mind seeks rest, growth. The being within craves peace. Death comes regardless of anyone''s intent."

    The silence that followed was thick, buzzing with unspoken threats. The creature pulsed with life, its shifting tendrils flexing like it hadn¡¯t decided what to be yet. Kaneda felt a cold sweat trickle down his back. He knew what kind of power Vomi had now¡ªor whatever she had turned into. This wasn¡¯t something that could be contained. Not with guns, not with influence, not with all the corpos'' credits combined.

    The thing took another step forward, the thud echoing through the rooftop. Kaneda¡¯s mind scrambled for a plan, anything. He needed this nightmare to stay right here, locked in this moment. His reputation, KanedaCorp¡¯s future¡ªit was all hanging by a thread. But there was nothing. No guards storming in, no miracle save, and definitely no way to reason with whatever stared him down now.

    ¡°I get it,¡± he muttered, barely loud enough to hear himself. His eyes flicked around, desperately searching for an out that just wasn¡¯t there. For the briefest second, he thought he saw recognition in those feral eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

    The creature looked past him, out at the city sprawled below, as if sizing it up. Judging it. When it spoke, the voices were layered, harmonized in chaos. ¡°San Francisco will be our proving ground, a test for this unity. Those who evolve will see the dawn. The rest¡­¡± The words hung in the air, unfinished but clear.

    Kaneda¡¯s pulse raced. He was used to chaos, but the kind you could steer, manipulate. Boardroom showdowns, digital wars¡ªthat he could handle. This? This was primal, unhinged, way beyond anything in his world.

    "What do you plan to do?" Kaneda asked, trying to buy time and piece together a plan.

    It let out a low, sarcastic hum. "The Black Daggers need to be wiped out. Whether you want to admit it or not, you told us they¡¯re tied to your company. If we find out they had anything to do with the attack..."

    "I¡¯ll be your next target," Kaneda said, giving a stiff nod¡ªnot out of agreement, just resignation.

    "That¡¯s right," the voices replied, almost in a tone you''d use to explain something obvious to a kid. "But more than that, we¡¯re here to find purpose. To grow. To protect what¡¯s ours. That¡¯s the goal."

    "By killing anyone who dares to cross you?"

    It shot him a look¡ªif eyes could grin, that¡¯s what they were doing. And Kaneda knew he didn¡¯t want to figure out exactly what that meant. The creature flexed its claws, its tail snapping once before it sprang from the rooftop, a streak of muscles and purple glow lost in the chaos of the city''s neon haze.

    <hr>

    ¡°F¡ª! Damn¡­,¡± Thiago almost shouted, catching himself just in time and wincing from the pain.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Blaze asked, eyes narrowing.

    Thiago¡¯s brief moment of relief when Vomi picked up the call had vanished, replaced by confusion as the line cut out abruptly. Blaze''s concern deepened.

    ¡°The call just dropped.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I figured that,¡± Blaze said with a flat tone. ¡°Why, though?¡±

    ¡°No clue! It was like something on the outside cut it off.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not exactly standard.¡±

    ¡°What part of any of this is standard?¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°Damn. Fair point.¡±

    ¡°One of my chooms turns into a monster, and now everyone¡¯s too scared to even step outside,¡± Thiago muttered, half talking to himself. ¡°Yeah, nothing¡¯s been standard for a while.¡±

    ¡°I''m calling the others,¡± Blaze said, eyes flickering yellow as he connected. ¡°Gotta let them know you''re awake.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I should reach out to Katie. She¡¯s probably losing it not knowing if I¡¯m okay.¡±

    ¡°Wait, why didn''t you call her first? Oh, never mind, it¡¯s me.¡± Blaze¡¯s eyes refocused just as Raven answered his call.

    Thiago wasted no time dialing his daughter. The line barely buzzed before a familiar voice erupted from the other end.

    ¡°DAD!¡±

    And the ginger girl definitely wasn¡¯t holding back.

    Even though the call hadn¡¯t quite settled in his ears, Thiago rubbed them instinctively before replying, ¡°I¡¯m alive. No need to yell.¡±

    ¡°BUT¡­ YOU DIDN¡¯T SEE WHAT I SAW!¡± she protested, her voice pouting through the phone.

    ¡°I did, and yeah, it¡¯s¡­ not good, but listen. I¡¯m fine, alright? How about you? Are you hurt?¡± Thiago tried to steer the conversation, focusing on his daughter¡¯s well-being.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Nothing¡¯s hurt. But everyone else is scared. They¡¯re worried. They called the police too.¡± Her voice grew quieter with each word.

    ¡°The police? Why?¡±

    ¡°To find Vomi. She¡¯s... still that¡­ thing?¡±

    "I called her, yeah. Got through after a few tries, but then something cut the connection."

    "You called her?"

    "Yeah, man. She''s not in a good place. Lost, like... like we are. Maybe even scared."

    The silence that followed was thick, cut off suddenly by Raven''s voice bursting in.

    ¡°Why did you call her?!¡±

    Thiago blinked, thrown by her sharp tone and sudden interruption. Raven wasn''t one to jump into conversations without good reason.

    ¡°To check if she was okay?¡± he replied, unsure why this was an issue.

    ¡°We got hit by Netrunners, you gonk! Think!¡±

    Realization smacked him like a freight train.

    Ah, shit.

    ¡°Ah, shit.¡±

    "aH sHiT!", Raven said in a mocking tone full of voice cracks, "That''s how you sound like."

    "No need to tub it in.", Thiago ended the call before Raven could continue.

    ¡°We gotta delta?¡± Blaze asked, though he already knew the answer.

    ¡°No, more than that. We need to disappear,¡± Thiago said, already yanking the cables from his agent and disconnecting it from his neurosocket. ¡°Sorry, Katie. Daddy''s gonna be late for dinner tonight.¡±

    Blaze didn''t waste a second unplugging himself. Sure, they might be harder to track now, but it also meant they were flying blind. And being off the grid in this world? It was like being a ghost. Or worse, a walking target. The real question was, how the hell could they fix this? How do you pull someone back from the brink of something that might as well be cyberpsychosis? Call MaxTac? Risk her life for everyone else¡¯s safety? Or find another way? And if so, what could they even do?

    ¡°Blaze, I¡¯m at a loss here. What¡¯s the move?¡±

    ¡°Your guess is as good as mine, choom,¡± Blaze said, shaking his head. ¡°That stuff was always Raven¡¯s area. And I doubt even she has a play for this.¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s the only one who might be able to point us in a direction. We should go¡ª¡±

    ¡°Go to her and drag the netrunners along? They¡¯re already mobilizing thanks to our calls,¡± Blaze cut in, predicting the thought before it left Thiago¡¯s lips.

    ¡°So we just let Vomi take one for the team? Is that it?¡± Thiago sighed, the frustration hanging between them.

    Blaze¡¯s mind raced, trying to piece together a solution. ¡°There¡¯s... someone who could make the call. Maybe. But... no, forget it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me hanging. Spill it.¡±

    ¡°Alright, fine,¡± Blaze relented. ¡°Remember that gig Vomi, Heitor, and I did for M-Tech a while back?¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, so?¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°I think Graves might be able to reach someone who could produce a serum¡ªif that¡¯s even possible,¡± Blaze said, now behind the wheel of a car he¡¯d just hotwired.

    They were on the move. No destination, just a desperate attempt to stay ahead of the chaos.

    ¡°Think it¡¯ll work?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s the only shot we¡¯ve got.¡± Blaze parked the car at the curb, eyeing an old payphone nearby. ¡°This is wishful thinking, though. It could go either way, good or bad. And with corpos in the mix at every turn, there¡¯s no safe option.¡±

    ¡°Pick your poison,¡± Thiago muttered. ¡°Either way, the corpos win.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why Nieme hates them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I get it now.¡±

    Blaze stepped out of the car, scanning the street for any signs of trouble. He handed a pistol to Thiago, just in case he became the target instead of Blaze, and tried to move toward the payphone as casually as possible¡ªor as casual as one could be while holding a shotgun. Thiago, limited by his injuries and armed with only a peashooter, could only watch from the car. The situation was tight, and safety was a fleeting concept.

    ¡°Pick up, dammit,¡± Blaze muttered, gripping the phone as it rang.

    It took several tries, but finally, Graves answered.

    ¡°What? We¡¯ve already notified the PD! What else?¡± Graves barked, tense and defensive.

    Blaze didn¡¯t waste time. ¡°Shut up and listen, corpo dog.¡± A sharp inhale from the other end told him he had Graves¡¯ attention. ¡°Our choom¡¯s in deep because of that Cyberdeck we klepped for you. If what we think happened did happen, this mess is on you too, not just KanedaCorp.¡±

    ¡°Who is this?¡±

    ¡°Blaze, you moron,¡± he replied with a mocking tone. The grunt that followed confirmed Graves recognized him. ¡°But that¡¯s not important. If whatever Vomi turned into keeps running loose, a lot of people are going to flatline¡ªnot just the Black Daggers. If this is some kind of biological nightmare your corp cooked up, don¡¯t you have a serum? A vaccine? Hell, even holy water?¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Graves said, voice heavy with tension. ¡°I¡¯m aware of the threat she poses. She just tore through our entire facility to take the deck back to KanedaCorp.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Graves snapped. ¡°And I don¡¯t owe you anything.¡±

    ¡°Right, because a monster rampaging through your corpo office is just business as usual,¡± Blaze shot back. ¡°Look, you need to do something. There has to be research on how to... contain that thing, right?¡±

    Blaze didn¡¯t say ¡°kill,¡± but the implication hung heavy in the air.

    ¡°It¡¯s more of a chance,¡± Graves said, his frustration clear even over the phone. ¡°Containment wasn¡¯t successful. And we barely had time to test the thing before everything went sideways.¡±

    ¡°But don¡¯t corpos run exams on new employees?¡± Blaze asked as an idea began to form. ¡°Standard procedure, right? If she¡¯s done any DNA testing, could that help with the incomplete data on whatever she¡¯s become?¡±

    ¡°You think we haven¡¯t considered that?¡± Graves¡¯ voice dripped with exasperation. ¡°Dr. Vomi¡¯s DNA is inexplicably clean of the substance she¡¯s infected with, even though¡ªif our suspicions are right¡ªshe already had one inside her before.¡±

    Wait, Vomi already had a monster in her? And now she¡¯s got two? What was she thinking? Was she reckless or just naive? Blaze couldn¡¯t tell¡ªmaybe she was both. And that made everything worse.

    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re full of questions from your silence,¡± Graves continued before barking orders to someone nearby. ¡°But if you really want to help, M-Tech would be grateful. And our gratitude comes with benefits.¡±

    Blaze scoffed. Of course Graves wanted to buy any information he could on Vomi¡¯s condition. But the truth was, Blaze barely knew her. Sure, they were in the same band, but actual knowledge about her? That was another story. The Daggers situation and the heist came to mind, but Vomi had played more of a fixer role there. That mess with the Daggers was just a thorn in everyone¡¯s side. But who was Vomi, really?

    ¡°Tough luck,¡± Blaze said, glancing at the street and checking on Thiago in the car. ¡°I¡¯m probably the one who¡¯s spent the least time with her. But I know people who¡¯ve been closer.¡±

    ¡°At this point, I¡¯ll take any lead,¡± Graves said, sounding worn out by the implications of his choice. ¡°As for the serum, it¡¯s possible¡ªbut only if we can get even the tiniest sample of her DNA.¡±

    ¡°From the monster, I assume?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course.¡±

    Blaze pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration mingling with the weight of their slim options. ¡°So we need to find her, corner her, and get a DNA sample without getting ourselves turned into scrap. Fantastic.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the gist of it,¡± Graves replied, his voice detached. ¡°If you manage to pull that off, we can begin working on containment.¡±

    ¡°And what about the payment you hinted at?¡± Blaze asked, unable to suppress the bitterness in his tone.

    There was a pause before Graves responded, ¡°You¡¯ll be rewarded well if you bring us what we need. But be aware, this is no charity. If you fail, you¡¯re on your own.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± Blaze said, glancing back at the car. Thiago¡¯s eyes were sharp, alert despite the pain radiating through him. They didn¡¯t have the luxury of time, and now, a dangerous task had just been dumped into their laps.

    Blaze stepped away from the payphone, turning the situation over in his mind. They were under-resourced and outmatched, chasing down someone who could level buildings if pushed too far. Yet, the alternative¡ªdoing nothing¡ªwas worse. Vomi was one of theirs, even if he didn¡¯t know her entire story. And right now, she needed help, whether she knew it or not.

    Sliding into the driver''s seat, Blaze met Thiago¡¯s questioning look. ¡°We need to find Vomi. Fast. And hope we don¡¯t get ghosted in the process.¡±

    ¡°What? Why do you need that? And how the hell are we supposed to do that?¡±

    Blaze¡¯s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he pushed the car past red lights, the engine growling with the strain. ¡°Graves said creating a serum is possible,¡± Blaze explained, his tone clipped with urgency, ¡°but only if we get a sample from whatever monster Vomi has turned into.¡± His eyes flicked to the side, catching a glimpse of Thiago¡¯s wide-eyed disbelief. ¡°You and Raven have spent the most time with her. I need to know¡ªwhat would Vomi do if she had this much power and enough rage to act on it?¡±

    Thiago¡¯s gaze shifted to the passing blur of city lights, the neon glow reflecting in his eyes as he processed the question. Memories of late-night rehearsals, tense conversations, and quiet moments of camaraderie played back in his mind like a broken film reel. The simplest answer¡ªthe one that pushed itself to the forefront¡ªwas that she¡¯d hunt down every last member of the Black Daggers who dared touch their lives. That part was obvious, and from the sounds of it, she had already started. But then there was the other part, the more puzzling piece: her move on KanedaCorp to reclaim the stolen Cyberdeck.

    Why did she risk everything to get it back?

    ¡°That Cyberdeck you klepped from M-Tech,¡± Thiago said slowly, piecing the puzzle together even as he spoke.

    Blaze gave a sharp nod, a flicker of anticipation crossing his features. ¡°Yeah? What about it?¡±

    ¡°What was it, really?¡±

    ¡°We knew it was some kind of prototype,¡± Blaze admitted, his voice low and rough. ¡°Top-tier, experimental. Maybe even something designed to interface with biotech, but we never got the full details. All I know is that whatever they were working on was dangerous enough that Vomi went straight for it the moment she could.¡±

    Thiago''s brows knitted as a troubling thought emerged. "If she¡¯s become something more than human, and that deck¡¯s at the center of it¡ªmaybe she didn¡¯t just take it back out of choice."

    ¡°What are you getting at?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t she looking worse each time we saw her at rehearsals?¡± Thiago gestured to his face, indicating his eyes and skin. ¡°Her eyes were getting sunken, her skin turning paler.¡±

    Blaze¡¯s eyes widened slightly as the realization hit. ¡°Now that you mention it¡­ yeah. I thought she was just chroming up. People change their skin color for style all the time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Thiago said, nodding slowly. ¡°All sorts of colors, rainbow included, sure. But why get progressively paler?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ so that¡¯s what Graves meant by her already having one of those things inside her.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Graves said she already had a monster in her before taking on a second one. But before that, Vomi seemed¡­ normal, I guess?¡± Blaze spoke slowly, piecing it together as he went.

    ¡°But why take on another monster?¡± Thiago couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it, and a new question formed in his mind. ¡°Wait, the Cyberdeck¡­ did you get a good look at it?¡±

    Blaze¡¯s eyes narrowed as he recalled the moment in the diner, flashes of cyberware and the deal replaying in his head. ¡°It looked like any other deck, but it seemed freshly ripped from someone¡¯s skull. It had these dark spots and a flesh-like texture.¡±

    Thiago¡¯s eyes widened, a new wave of worry sweeping over him. ¡°Blaze?¡±

    ¡°Fuck, I get it now,¡± Blaze muttered, realization dawned on him. ¡°A third monster? But why would she return it to KanedaCorp?¡±

    ¡°Well, they did create it, didn¡¯t they? When something malfunctions, who do you go to?¡±

    Blaze, whose job often involved handling just that kind of problem, nodded in agreement. ¡°And if you can reach the people who built it directly¡­¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Maybe they offered her some kind of cure,¡± Thiago said, though doubt clouded his voice. ¡°But I can¡¯t shake the feeling that things weren¡¯t supposed to work out for her.¡± He ran a hand through his hair, a plan starting to come together. ¡°We need to find any Black Daggers. Then we can piece something together to track her down.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re sure that¡¯s going to work?¡±

    ¡°It has to,¡± Thiago said as they sped past a group of Daggers on the street. ¡°Because I don¡¯t know what we¡¯re going to do if it doesn¡¯t.¡±

    <hr>

    A few moments earlier

    ¡°Great. Now we can¡¯t stay here either,¡± Raven muttered, spitting on the ground in frustration.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Heitor¡¯s stance shifted, eyes alert as his hand instinctively sought out the nearest weapon.

    ¡°Did Dad do something bad?¡± Katie¡¯s small voice quivered, confusion spreading across her face as the tension thickened.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a mistake, Katie,¡± Raven managed, pushing down her irritation. ¡°Thiago called after speaking with Vomi. The Black Daggers might have tracked our location.¡±

    ¡°Are you serious? Even my home?¡± Cinthia asked, wide-eyed. ¡°But this place is loaded with Corporate security!¡±

    ¡°That didn¡¯t stop them from hacking into Vomi¡¯s chrome, and she works for a corporation,¡± Nieme said, his voice low but ominous.

    And when it was Nieme that made a point, everyone took it to heart. Since most of the time he goofed around, when he spoke seriously, it never means good things.

    ¡°What about the security that your father¡ªFrank sent?¡± Heitor cut himself off, mindful of Nieme¡¯s simmering anger toward his father.

    ¡°They¡¯re already here, but it¡¯s just two cops. Better than nothing, but they¡¯re more like flimsy vests than real subdermal armor,¡± Nieme said, his shoulders tense as he tried to downplay the concern. ¡°But really, where should we go?¡±

    ¡°Where can we go?¡± Carmine¡¯s voice dripped with bitterness. ¡°At this rate, even a prison cell is starting to sound like a safe bet.¡±

    ¡°More importantly, what can we actually do? We¡¯re a group of musicians with a few small-time gigs under our belts, Cinthia¡¯s a minor celebrity, there¡¯s a rehab convict, and then there¡¯s you, Heitor,¡± Raven said, pointing at him. ¡°You fought in the Cartel Wars down in South America. You¡¯re the only one here who really knows how to handle situations like this.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Heitor admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he strained to piece together a workable plan. ¡°But you¡¯re the one who makes the final call, remember? That¡¯s what we agreed on.¡±

    A knock sounded at the door, making everyone freeze for a split second. Cinthia quickly checked her agent, confirming it was the cop standing outside. ¡°Alright, the badges are here,¡± she said, tension in her voice. ¡°Whatever we decide, we need to decide now.¡±

    All eyes turned to Raven as she ran her hands through her hair, tugging at it in frustration, trying to pull an idea from the chaos in her head. Katie sat in the corner, eyes wide and worried as she watched the adults struggle with indecision.

    ¡°Damned if you do, damned if you don¡¯t,¡± Nieme muttered, slumping against the wall. ¡°Look, Heitor is the only one here who can actually fight the Black Daggers. He¡¯s got the know-how, the experience, and he¡¯s trained for guerrilla tactics.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t talk about me like I¡¯m not standing right here,¡± Heitor grumbled.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Nieme said, flashing an apologetic look before turning serious again. ¡°The point is, he¡¯s the only one who stands a real chance out there.¡±

    Carmine nodded in agreement. ¡°If Blaze and Thiago are already out there, they¡¯ll need the best fighter we¡¯ve got to cover their backs.¡±

    Cinthia¡¯s eyes lit up with an idea. ¡°What about Vomi¡¯s place?¡±

    Carmine raised an eyebrow. ¡°What are you getting at?¡±

    ¡°Is it far?¡±

    ¡°Not really, maybe ten minutes,¡± Carmine said, a hint of curiosity in his tone. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The weapons she made!¡± Raven¡¯s face brightened as realization struck. ¡°Cerberus and Chimera!¡±

    ¡°Oh shit, you¡¯re right,¡± Heitor said, recalling the powerful guns from the heist. Just the memory of Cerberus¡¯s firepower was enough to make him wince. ¡°Those two could give the Daggers hell.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s assuming they haven¡¯t raided her place already,¡± Carmine added, a shadow crossing his expression. ¡°Remember, I barely escaped them myself.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the best chance we¡¯ve got,¡± Nieme said, eyes flicking between the others.

    ¡°Our only shot,¡± Raven said, steel in her voice. ¡°Alright, Heitor, you¡¯re going to take all that training and every bit of iron you can find and help Blaze and Thiago. Then we go after Vomi.¡±

    Heitor¡¯s expression shifted to one of determination. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he said, giving a genuine salute.

    Cinthia tapped her agent to unlock the door. ¡°Alright, just make sure to dodge the cops.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± Heitor promised, a fierce glint in his eye.

    <hr>

    Black Dagger Grunt, a Few Minutes Later

    Shit really hit the fan tonight. No matter how hard the gang tried, they kept showing up too late, failing outright, or getting killed¡ªand the odds seemed to be flipping in favor of those gonk punks calling themselves ¡°The Refused.¡± Still, the grunt took some small comfort knowing KanedaCorp and Ascendant Innovations were backing them, even if it was just basic Cyberdecks to keep them operational.

    Most of the gear was Militech Paraline¡¯s¡ªnothing flashy¡ªbut it did the job, and that¡¯s what counted.

    The grunt was supervising the latest drop-off of gear for their rookie Netrunners. Cyberspace could be a welcoming place if you knew the right corners and alleys to navigate, if those even existed in a virtual realm. Someone had to guide the new blood, and that job had fallen squarely on him. But ever since the recent attacks, whispers of more Black Daggers getting flatlined haunted the garage, fraying nerves and splitting focus. It wasn¡¯t rocket science to figure out who was behind it, and everyone knew it, whether they admitted it or not.

    ¡°So, is everything there?¡± The truck driver¡¯s voice cut through the tense air, laced with impatience.

    The grunt looked over, eyes darting from the crates back to the driver. He pried another crate open and began counting, ¡°¡­five¡­ Does every box have five kits and five Cyberdecks?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and you¡¯ve already asked that twice,¡± the driver snapped.

    The grunt groaned, shutting the lid with a loud thud. ¡°Fine, everything seems preem here.¡±

    ¡°Sheesh, thanks. I¡¯m delta-ing out,¡± the driver muttered, slamming his door and peeling off.

    ¡°Asshole,¡± the grunt grumbled.

    ¡°How many of our spots has that thing found?¡± another gunner called out, eyes fixed on the specialized Netrunner who was deep in cyberspace.

    ¡°More than twenty,¡± the Netrunner replied, sounding almost detached. ¡°But whatever it is, it¡¯s attacking at random. Businesses, stash houses, drug depots¡ªthere¡¯s no pattern.¡±

    The grunt sighed and slammed the crate shut. He was itching to yell at everyone to load the damn gear, but the conversation had hooked him. He stepped over to the screen near the NetChair where the Netrunner worked, staring at the feed. One hideout was under attack right now.

    ¡°What the hell is that thing?¡± he pointed at the grotesque image caught on camera.

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know. That¡¯s why I prefer staying out of meat-space. Shit like this,¡± the Netrunner muttered, still tethered to the NetChair like his soul was somewhere else.

    Well, it was. But that didn¡¯t change the fact his body was still vulnerable.

    ¡°Yeah, but our places keep getting iced,¡± another goon grumbled. ¡°Sooner or later, they¡¯re gonna hit the big ones, and then we¡¯re fucked.¡±

    ¡°The best-guarded places have better gear,¡± the Netrunner said, pulling himself out of the chair and peeling off his cooling suit. ¡°We just need to focus on getting these Cyberdecks¡ª¡±

    *BANG*

    A sudden burst of gunfire erupted, rapid and vicious. The gun¡¯s sound was unlike anything they¡¯d heard before, controlled yet destructive. Before the Netrunner could react, his head burst in a red mist, the bullets shredding through him.

    Chaos erupted as everyone scrambled for cover, desperate to dodge death. Another round of burst fire cracked through the space, sparing them only by a hair.

    ¡°Fuck, Vomi! Is this an assault rifle or a slaughter rifle?!¡±

    Those were the last words the grunt registered before a shotgun blast ended him with a shot to the back of his neck.

 Chapter 29: Fragile

    Blaze had wielded Cerberus a few times today¡ªthe custom-made automatic shotgun with enough recoil to jolt even the most seasoned user¡ªbut tonight was different. After clearing out the last of the Black Daggers from the hideout, the team finally paused to catch their breath. Heitor leaned against the wall, sweat dripping down his face as he tried to calm his racing heart.

    ¡°These irons Vomi made¡­ they¡¯re terrifying,¡± Heitor muttered, his eyes fixed on Chimera, the ¡°slaughter rifle¡± he¡¯d just nicknamed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got chrome arms, and even I can feel them sore,¡± Blaze said, rubbing the flesh part of his shoulder. ¡°And I only fired it, what, four times?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had proper training to handle high-power weapons, and even I¡¯m feeling it,¡± Heitor admitted, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the ache. ¡°Did Vomi really use these during the heist?¡±

    ¡°Beats me,¡± Thiago spoke up from the back, his sniper rifle slung over his bandolier. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about that, just imagine what this thing can do.¡± He patted the rifle with a nervous grin.

    ¡°We can find out later,¡± Heitor said, refocusing the group. ¡°Right now, we need to check their cyberspace.¡± He gestured toward the NetChair, a crucial tool for their plan. ¡°Did any of you grab the laptop from Vomi¡¯s place?¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± Blaze replied, pulling the device out of his backpack and handing it over.

    Before this, they¡¯d crossed paths at another Black Daggers hideout, where Heitor had managed to prevent Blaze from making a reckless move¡ªdragging a barely-recovered Thiago to the front lines. Thankfully, that location had been lightly guarded, but it provided vital clues: cargo shipments were being shuffled between hideouts and storage facilities across San Francisco. Cross-referencing that data with the intel Vomi had collected at her apartment, they¡¯d pieced together enough to make their move.

    And of course after an abridged version of Raven''s idea and plans to save Vomi.

    ¡°There¡¯s no pattern to the attacks,¡± Thiago said, staring at the laptop¡¯s screen as it displayed recent hits. None of them followed any discernible order. Some were minor disruptions; others, devastating blows.

    ¡°She¡¯s just hunting,¡± Blaze said, his voice grim. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s higher-ups or small-time grunts. At this rate, she¡¯s going to take down someone who isn¡¯t even connected to the Daggers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to pinpoint any locations nearby that might catch her attention,¡± Heitor said, scrolling through the map on the laptop. ¡°If I were her, I¡¯d be driven by impulse more than the importance of the targets.¡±

    ¡°So, the plan is to tag her with this,¡± Thiago said, holding up a syringe that looked almost identical to a standard Bounce Back. Its cylindrical form gleamed ominously under the flickering warehouse lights. ¡°Get it to M-Tech, and then use the serum.¡±

    ¡°So how exactly are we going to pull this off? That¡¯s the damn pickle,¡± Blaze muttered, the memory of their heated conversation with Graves still stinging.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got three potential spots,¡± Heitor said, pointing to the screen. ¡°A CHOOH2 station, a gym, and a repair shop. The shop¡¯s probably a front for Netrunning ops.¡±

    ¡°Why these places? What¡¯s the connection?¡± Thiago asked, studying the map. The locations were just a couple of blocks apart, close enough to worry but not enough to make it obvious.

    ¡°All three are run by the same person,¡± Heitor explained, eyes narrowing as he analyzed the data. ¡°If Vomi¡¯s squeezing info out of the Daggers, and I¡¯d bet a month¡¯s pay she is, they¡¯d tell her exactly what we¡¯re seeing.¡±

    ¡°You suck at betting,¡± Blaze said, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°This time, I doubt I''d be losing,¡± Heitor replied with a slight smirk.

    Thiago¡¯s expression darkened as realization dawned. ¡°So, we¡¯re splitting up, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it either,¡± Heitor admitted, ¡°but I don¡¯t think Vomi will attack us.¡±

    ¡°You think? Or are you sure?¡± Thiago pressed, skepticism clear in his voice.

    ¡°One or the other,¡± Heitor said with a resigned shrug.

    ¡°How comforting,¡± Thiago muttered.

    Blaze snapped the laptop shut and shoved it into his backpack. ¡°We need to move before she hits these places. Debating every single minuteness is pointless now.¡±

    ¡°The irony coming from you¡­ wait, when did you start talking like that?¡± Thiago started, but Heitor cut him off.

    ¡°Blaze is right,¡± Heitor said, urgency sharpening his tone. ¡°If we¡¯re going to save Vomi, we need to act and accept the risk.¡± He turned to Thiago, eyes serious. ¡°But you¡ªyou need to stay out of this.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Thiago¡¯s brows knitted in confusion.

    ¡°Do you really need reminding?¡± Heitor¡¯s voice softened, but the meaning cut through like a blade. ¡°Think of your daughter.¡±

    He bit his lip, frustration and worry tangled in his chest. Katie was everything to him¡ªhis anchor, his reason to keep pushing forward. Especially now, with just the two of them left as each other''s only family. The Refused had shown nothing but warmth, always ready to take her under their wing. But that didn¡¯t mean Thiago could throw himself headfirst into danger without considering her feelings. To Katie, Vomi might very well be the reason behind all their current chaos. And yet, it was Thiago who brought Vomi into their lives. If he hadn¡¯t met her in that bar, if he hadn¡¯t been drawn to her, hadn¡¯t shared that bond over music that connected them all¡­

    A heavy sigh escaped him. ¡°I know. But¡­ it¡¯s more than just saving a friend.¡±

    Heitor¡¯s eyes narrowed, catching the deliberate choice of words. Not ¡°choom,¡± but ¡°friend.¡± How close had Vomi really become to him? The ride with the Barkers hinted at a deeper connection, but how deep could it be?

    ¡°Thiago, are you and Vomi¡­?¡± Blaze ventured.

    ¡°In love? No.¡± Thiago shook his head, a mix of conflict and longing on his face. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ she means more to me than I can put into words.¡±

    Heitor and Blaze exchanged a glance. This side of Thiago¡ªopen, vulnerable¡ªwas one they¡¯d rarely, if ever, seen. He was the joker, the quiet guy who would throw out a lame pun now and then, the one with a modest job and a daughter who lit up every room she entered. He was also the man who had lost his wife not long ago, a wound that had never truly healed. They knew that grief had changed him, subtly but unmistakably. He still cracked jokes and had honed his skills with their music edits, but there was something missing¡ªan intangible shift that everyone felt but couldn¡¯t quite describe.

    They had seen him drift off mid-conversation, eyes fixed on a distance only he could see. The moments he stopped listening, or worse, called out for someone who wasn¡¯t there. It was as if he had never moved past the first stage of grief, refusing even to acknowledge his loss fully. But when Vomi entered their lives, something had started to change. There was a spark in him, subtle but unmistakable. He seemed more alive, more present. When Vomi wrote ¡°Devil Trigger,¡± he¡¯d been ecstatic, playing it on loop until Katie joined in, the two of them sharing that rare burst of joy.

    ¡°Even so, I can¡¯t let it happen. I won¡¯t stand by and respect whatever fate befalls you from sheer recklessness,¡± Heitor said firmly, his voice calm but unyielding. ¡°I couldn¡¯t face Katie if I knew I led her father to his death.¡±

    ¡°And like I said,¡± Blaze cocked the shotgun, momentarily ignoring its raw power, ¡°I¡¯ll knock you out cold if I have to.¡±

    ¡°No arguing with that, huh?¡± Thiago asked, a sad chuckle escaping him.

    ¡°Not a chance.¡±

    ¡°One thing you can do is stay with your daughter. She¡¯s worried sick already, so be there for her,¡± Heitor said, taking the sniper rifle from Thiago¡¯s hands. ¡°If you¡¯re so torn, send Carmine to the third location. You need rest, some common sense, and a stiff drink.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard something I agree with that insults me so deeply,¡± Thiago deadpanned, though a small smile touched his lips. ¡°Thanks. Really. Where are the others?¡±

    ¡°Probably at the PD,¡± Blaze said, eyeing the parked Black Daggers van in the garage. ¡°We¡¯ll handle our end. You make sure to handle yours.¡±

    Blaze offered his chrome arm for a handshake.

    Thiago took it firmly. ¡°You better bring Vomi back.¡±

    ¡°We will.¡± Blaze nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll take the van. You take the car. Make sure to send Carmine the details once you¡¯re in position. Take this,¡± Heitor said, handing Thiago a device.

    ¡°A smartphone?¡± Thiago raised an eyebrow as he accepted the outdated gadget.

    ¡°Harder to trace. Safe for calls,¡± Heitor explained, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid, you hear?¡±

    ¡°Promise.¡±

    The van roared to life, tires screeching as it sped out of the garage with Blaze barely in before it took off. Thiago glanced down at the phone, its physical buttons foreign in an era dominated by agents. The contact list was sparse: members of The Refused, a few key allies, and one ominously labeled ¡°In case everything goes to shit.¡± He bypassed that one quickly, knowing it held decisions best left untouched. Vomi¡¯s name was there too, but the last call indicated she wouldn¡¯t answer.

    Spotting Raven¡¯s number, he dialed as he started the car.

    ¡°Heitor? Using the phone, huh? Never thought we¡¯d need this secure line,¡± Raven¡¯s voice came through, tinged with bitter anger¡ªher usual tone lately.

    Can¡¯t blame her.

    ¡°It¡¯s Thiago,¡± he said, taking a sharp turn. ¡°Which PD are you at?¡±

    ¡°Thiago? Heitor gave you the phone, didn¡¯t he?¡± she said, a hint of realization creeping in. ¡°We¡¯re at the downtown station. Is everything alright?¡±

    ¡°If only,¡± Thiago muttered before turning serious. ¡°They told me to stay out, to be with Katie. So I¡¯m sending Carmine in my place.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you think of that sooner?¡± Raven snapped.

    Thiago winced, though she couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. More than I¡¯m willing to explain. But they¡¯re right. I can¡¯t leave my daughter alone. But Vomi needs every bit of help we can muster.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Thiago, I know,¡± Raven said, irritation giving way to exhaustion. ¡°Stop reminding me what she is. I saw the monster.¡±

    ¡°Is Carmine there?¡± he asked, shifting the topic.

    Raven¡¯s sigh was audible. ¡°Yeah. Send the details. I¡¯ll get him moving. Just forward whatever you found at the Daggers¡¯ hideout.¡±

    ¡°On it. One sec.¡±

    Slowing the car, Thiago texted the data to Raven¡¯s agent. It would have to be enough to get Carmine moving before Vomi showed up.

    ¡°Huh, one of these spots is near us,¡± Raven said, scanning the files. ¡°Damn it, Vomi¡¯s already taken what, ten places in a few hours?¡±

    ¡°More than twenty,¡± Thiago said grimly. ¡°And the count¡¯s climbing.¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Wish the same for my bank account,¡± Raven muttered. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll let Carmine know.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. See you soon.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. C-YA.¡±

    <hr>

    San Francisco Police Department

    Katie Keithwork

    ¡°These rampages are getting out of hand,¡± a cop muttered, dropping another file about a ¡°violent shootout¡± onto his cluttered desk.

    ¡°We already had our hands full with understaffing, and now this shows up to make things worse,¡± grumbled the supervisor as he scanned a report. He shot a disdainful look at the group waiting nearby. ¡°And now we have to babysit these deadweights.¡±

    Katie bristled at the insult, but she knew better than to complain¡ªadults had a habit of yelling when she spoke up. Almost every adult was an asshole, especially toward her and her dad¡¯s chooms. She didn¡¯t understand why they acted so bitter, so cruel. Did becoming an adult automatically make you like that? If so, she wanted no part of it.

    She shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, trying not to fidget as the others waited around her. At some point, Raven had said Thiago was on his way, and Carmine had left to help Blaze and Heitor with something. Katie couldn¡¯t help but wonder: Why did they have to put themselves in danger? Couldn¡¯t the cops just handle it? It was a corpo problem¡ªshouldn¡¯t the corporations deal with their own mess?

    But the thought of her dad coming soon gave her a tiny sense of comfort. Just the idea of seeing him again eased her breathing a little, though not enough to calm the storm in her chest.

    The questions kept swirling in her head, relentless and confusing. Everyone around her was scared, even if they tried to hide it. They avoided explaining what had really happened, but Katie knew. She had seen it. A woman transforming into a monster. No one could convince her otherwise. That horrifying image had etched itself so deeply in her mind that she hadn¡¯t been able to shake the anxiety since leaving the rehearsal warehouse.

    And now Carmine had been attacked on the way to Cinthia¡¯s house. Couldn¡¯t the same happen to Dad? What if he¡¯s being attacked right now? What if he doesn¡¯t make it here safely? What if¡ª

    ¡°Katie?¡±

    Nieme¡¯s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, but it didn¡¯t register at first.

    ¡°Katie!¡± Nieme was up now, panic in his voice. ¡°Hey, she¡¯s having a panic attack!¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Raven exclaimed, turning toward Katie. She noticed the child¡¯s shallow, silent hyperventilation and immediately crouched down in front of her. ¡°Hey, calm down. We¡¯re here,¡± she said, trying to sound gentle.

    But her tone, more rushed than soothing, felt almost like scolding. It only made things worse. Katie¡¯s breathing quickened as her chest tightened further, the fear clawing its way back in with even greater force.

    Raven froze, unsure what to do as Katie¡¯s breathing grew more erratic. ¡°Nieme, what do we¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Cinthia interrupted, her voice steady despite the rising tension. She knelt beside Katie, her hands hovering for a moment before gently resting on the girl¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Katie, look at me,¡± she said softly but firmly. ¡°You¡¯re safe. Thiago¡¯s coming, okay? You¡¯re not alone.¡±

    Katie¡¯s eyes darted toward Cinthia, wide and glossy with tears. She was trembling, her small body overwhelmed by the storm of fear inside her.

    ¡°Breathe with me, alright?¡± Cinthia continued, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. ¡°In... and out. Like this.¡± She exaggerated the breaths, making them steady and loud enough for Katie to hear.

    For a moment, it felt like nothing would work. But then Katie¡¯s breaths began to sync with Cinthia''s, faltering at first but slowly finding rhythm.

    ¡°Good,¡± Cinthia encouraged, her voice calm. ¡°Keep going, just like that.¡±

    Raven, still crouched nearby, watched anxiously. She felt utterly helpless. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to scare her...¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t,¡± Nieme assured her, arms crossed. ¡°She¡¯s just overwhelmed.¡±

    Katie¡¯s breathing finally began to stabilize. The tension in her chest eased, though her hands still trembled as she gripped the edge of her chair. She sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve.

    ¡°Better?¡± Cinthia asked gently.

    Katie nodded hesitantly. ¡°Y-Yeah... I think so.¡±

    ¡°Good. That''s my ginger girl.¡± Cinthia smiled softly and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before sitting back.

    Raven let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. ¡°Kid, you scared the shit out of me.¡±

    Katie didn¡¯t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the floor. ¡°...Sorry,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Raven said quickly, leaning closer. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that. You don¡¯t have to be sorry. We¡¯ve just... been through a lot, and I know it¡¯s scary. But you¡¯re tough, kid. Tougher than I¡¯d be at your age.¡±

    Katie looked up, her eyes still glassy. ¡°You think so?¡±

    ¡°Oh, definitely,¡± Raven said, offering a small grin, ¡°Like, I cried because someone took my crayons. I was helpless like that.¡±

    ¡°But crayons are¡­ preem.¡±, Katie said through a hiccup.

    ¡°I know.¡±, Raven said, petting her head, ¡°I know.¡±

    The moment was interrupted by the sound of the precinct doors creaking open. Katie¡¯s head snapped toward the noise, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Thiago walking in. Relief washed over her like a wave, and before she knew it, she was on her feet, running to him.

    ¡°Dad!¡±

    Thiago crouched just in time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms. ¡°Hey there,¡± he said softly, holding her tightly. ¡°I¡¯m here. It¡¯s alright.¡±

    For the first time that day, Katie let herself cry. The quiet sobs were enough to twist Thiago¡¯s heart in ways he hadn¡¯t thought possible. For a fleeting moment, guilt consumed him¡ªa dark thought flashed through his mind, blaming himself for leaving her alone, even briefly. The idea of her ever having to fend for herself was unbearable.

    Frank appeared in the doorway, his hands resting on his hips. ¡°How touching.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t start, Frank,¡± Nieme growled immediately, his tone sharp. ¡°Not now.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t starting anything,¡± Frank replied with a sigh. He looked toward Thiago and Katie, the slightest hint of softness in his usually stoic expression. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯ve seen so many people bottle up their emotions until they break. Seeing someone let go like that¡ªit¡¯s not pretty, but it¡¯s real. We go through so much that I forget we all started out the same way: fragile, curious, and innocent.¡± He paused, his voice softer than usual. ¡°It is touching.¡±

    Nieme let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Sure, Frank. Like your job leaves room for feelings.¡±

    Frank didn¡¯t respond. Instead, they both turned their attention to Thiago and Katie, still locked in a tight embrace. It was as if the rest of the room had faded away. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to let go, as though holding on could shield them from the world outside.

    Nearby, Raven and Cinthia talked quietly, their words too soft to catch. Raven gave a grateful nod to Cinthia, clearly thanking her for helping calm Katie earlier.

    Nieme and Frank stood in silence, the moment stretching out. For once, there wasn¡¯t tension in their quiet, just a mutual understanding neither would admit.

    Finally, Frank broke the silence, resting a hand on Nieme¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Can we talk?¡±

    Nieme glanced at him, his expression flat. ¡°About what?¡±

    Frank gestured vaguely at his uniform, then around the police station. ¡°About this. About why I did it. You never gave me a chance to explain.¡±

    Nieme¡¯s eyes narrowed, a sharp edge returning to his voice. ¡°Oh, you mean how you joined the people who killed Mom?¡± She gave a mock gasp, dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Yeah, Frank, I¡¯m all ears for that.¡±

    ¡°Please, Nieme,¡± he said quietly, the hand tightening slightly on his shoulder. ¡°Just listen.¡±

    He shrugged off his hand, crossing his arms. ¡°Not like I have anywhere else to go,¡± he muttered, his voice bitter. ¡°Thanks to the Black Daggers hunting us down.¡±

    With a resigned sigh, Nieme dropped into a nearby chair, the office chair¡¯s wheels rolling slightly with the force. He leaned back, his expression guarded but resigned.

    Frank exhaled slowly, suppressing the frown threatening to form on his face. He had no idea if he''d actually listen this time, but it was the only chance he had.

    ¡°This place isn¡¯t exactly known for its decency or competence. Never has been,¡± Frank began, his tone flat as he laid out the grim reality. ¡°And with the government slashing funds, things have only gotten worse. The old motto, ¡®Serve and Protect,¡¯ died long before I thought of joining the force. The people here? They¡¯re in it for all kinds of reasons¡ªpunishment, bitterness, or just a way to bend the law to their advantage. None of their motivations are noble. But they¡¯re not purely evil, either.¡±

    Nieme¡¯s response was as hollow as his expression. ¡°I noticed.¡±

    Frank frowned but pushed forward. ¡°Even with all of that, these people still do their jobs. Badly, maybe, but they do them. They still protect those who need protecting.¡± His voice was unflinching, devoid of sugarcoating. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who¡¯s funding the department. People need help, and we¡¯re the ones who show up.¡±

    ¡°Cut the ¡®we¡¯ shit.¡± Nieme¡¯s voice sharpened, his patience already threadbare. ¡°I hate the corpos for what they¡¯ve done. For what you did. So why, Frank? Why¡¯d you make that choice?¡±

    Frank¡¯s jaw tightened, and his reply came cold and clipped. ¡°It was that, or let our lives become hell.¡± He wasn¡¯t speaking to her anymore. His words were aimed at the phantom of his own guilt. ¡°Do you think I¡¯ll ever forget the sight of you, holding her lifeless body in your little arms? Do you know what went through my head in that moment?¡±

    Nieme¡¯s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

    ¡°I felt worthless. Angry. Powerless.¡± His voice cracked slightly, though the bitterness remained raw. ¡°All I could do was stand there, nodding like a gonk to the cop who¡¯d sworn an oath to protect us¡ªand failed. Failed her.¡±

    Each word dripped with unfiltered venom, the kind of bitterness that made even Nieme hesitate. For the first time, she saw something in Frank she hadn¡¯t expected: vulnerability.

    He took a long, shaky breath before continuing. ¡°No kid should have to see their parent die, let alone because of someone else¡¯s incompetence. So I did what I thought I had to do. I grabbed a piece of iron, went to the nearest Netrunner, and made sure the bastards responsible paid.¡± He glanced at his desk, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a bottle of unmarked pills. ¡°That day, I did something reckless¡ªsomething that could¡¯ve put a target on all our backs. And afterward, I was given a choice. A deal to make it all disappear.¡±

    ¡°You were coerced?¡± Nieme asked, her voice quieter now, almost cautious.

    ¡°Blackmailed,¡± he corrected, swallowing the pills dry. ¡°If I refused, they¡¯d take you. Ship you off to an orphanage¡ªor worse, foster care. And we both know how much corpos love recruiting from foster care.¡±

    Nieme¡¯s breath hitched, though she quickly masked it with a scoff. ¡°So you sold out. That¡¯s your excuse?¡±

    Frank didn¡¯t respond right away. He closed the drawer with a deliberate motion, then leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a distant point. ¡°I¡¯m not offering this as an excuse,¡± he said finally, his voice heavy. ¡°It was my mistake. My choice. And I¡¯ll carry it with me for the rest of my life. But if I could go back to that same day, if I had the chance to do it all over again...¡± He exhaled sharply, his tone resolute. ¡°I¡¯d make the same choice.¡±

    Nieme¡¯s eyes widened briefly, disbelief flickering across her face. ¡°Everything?¡±

    ¡°Better the devil you know than the one you don¡¯t,¡± Frank replied, his voice weary. ¡°Listen, I hate the corpos as much as you do. Maybe more. I¡¯m not asking for your forgiveness¡ªI never have. I just want you to understand what really happened.¡±

    Nieme hesitated, his voice softer this time. ¡°And the files I found? Do they have anything to do with you?¡±

    Frank let out a bitter laugh, his eyes shifting to the ceiling as if looking at the floor would make him sick. ¡°Money laundering and fake identities? That¡¯s just the tip of the iceberg. What I¡¯ve done¡ªwhat I still have to do¡ªto keep things from spiraling into something worse... that¡¯s going to the grave with me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to make of this,¡± Nieme admitted, his voice laced with conflict, as if he was teetering between anger and reluctant understanding.

    It didn¡¯t mean he loved his father¡ªnot by a long shot. But he couldn¡¯t bring himself to hate him, either. What guarantee did Nieme have that he wouldn¡¯t have made the same choices if he¡¯d been in Frank¡¯s position? Hell, he might have already gone down a similar path if not for The Refused.

    The band had become his outlet, a way to channel his anger and frustration into music instead of something destructive. But if he hadn¡¯t found them, if he hadn¡¯t been given that outlet... what might have happened? Would he have taken matters into his own hands? Would he have been flatlined in some back alley, forgotten before anyone could figure out why?

    Not knowing the full picture would¡¯ve been easier, in a way¡ªcleaner. But now that he did, he couldn¡¯t decide if it was better or worse. At least he had clarity, even if it came with the weight of understanding.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Frank said, holding out a can of soda. ¡°I don¡¯t get most of what happens either.¡±

    Nieme hesitated before taking the can, popping it open but not drinking just yet. ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said finally, the words awkward but sincere. ¡°For not listening. For not¡­ caring.¡±

    Frank let out a quiet chuckle, more from surprise than anything, and shrugged. ¡°Son, I kept you in the dark for fifteen years, and I just admitted I¡¯d do it all over again if I had to. You don¡¯t owe me an apology, and you sure as hell don¡¯t owe me forgiveness.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Nieme muttered before taking a sip of the soda.

    ¡°Although,¡± Frank added, his tone softening as he turned to look at his son, ¡°I owe you an apology. You¡¯re a lot more mature than I gave you credit for. To go through all this for your friend, your choom¡­ that takes real courage.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not who I used to be, just like you¡¯re not who you used to be,¡± Nieme replied with a sigh. ¡°I guess I was just too stubborn to see it.¡±

    ¡°Nah, forget it,¡± Frank said, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°We can complain about the past all we want, but the future? That¡¯s on us to build.¡±

    Nieme smirked faintly, a small but knowing expression, and gave a slow nod. ¡°I¡¯m willing to try.¡±

    ¡°Try what?¡±

    ¡°Rebuild our family,¡± Nieme said, his gaze drifting to Thiago and Katie. They had both fallen asleep on the couch¡ªThiago from his injuries, Katie from sheer exhaustion.

    Raven quietly draped a blanket over the two, a tender gesture that made the scene feel strangely peaceful.

    Frank followed Nieme¡¯s gaze, watching the quiet moment unfold. His son¡¯s silence spoke volumes. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Frank said softly.

    Nieme didn¡¯t respond, but the weight of his determination lingered in the air. He sipped his soda, his eyes fixed on his friends¡ªhis family. Thiago¡¯s arm was draped protectively over Katie even in his sleep, as if shielding her from whatever nightmares the world might throw her way. Raven adjusted the blanket again, ensuring neither of them would feel the chill.

    Frank leaned back in his chair, watching his son silently. ¡°You know,¡± he began, breaking the moment of quiet, ¡°rebuilding a family isn¡¯t just about sticking together. It¡¯s about facing what broke it in the first place. You ready for that?¡±

    Nieme glanced at him, his expression unreadable. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe I¡¯ll never be ready. But¡­ I think I owe it to them¡ªand to myself¡ªto try.¡±

    Frank nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. ¡°That¡¯s a start.¡±

    Nieme finished the soda, crushing the can lightly in his hand before setting it aside. ¡°You know, for all your talk about courage and rebuilding, you¡¯re still dodging one question.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What¡¯s that?¡± Frank asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Are you ready to try?¡± Nieme¡¯s tone was steady, but there was a challenge in his gaze.

    Frank didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for another can of soda from the desk, cracked it open, and took a long sip. Finally, he looked at Nieme. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying since the day I made that deal. Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve been good at it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the same thing,¡± Nieme replied, his voice quieter now. ¡°You¡¯ve been trying to survive. I¡¯m talking about trying to be better.¡±

    Frank¡¯s jaw tightened, the words hitting harder than he expected. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the soda can dangling loosely from his fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± he said eventually, his voice low.

    Nieme gave him a small nod, deciding not to push further. The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft breaths of the sleeping pair on the couch.

    Outside, the city buzzed with its usual chaos, but here, for a brief moment, things felt calm.

    Fragile, but calm.

 Chapter 30: End of The Line

    An Hour Later

    ¡°I¡¯m in danger here!¡± Cinthia¡¯s voice rang out from her agent, loud enough to make Raven glance up.

    Cinthia had been glued to her agent for what felt like forever, juggling call after call. Since Thiago had arrived, Raven couldn¡¯t remember a moment when Cinthia¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t glow with that bright yellow hue of the agent. It wasn¡¯t just her¡ªRaven had been fielding her own calls too. One particularly persistent one had been from the gig organizer, demanding confirmation of their appearance. They¡¯d gone so far as to threaten the band¡¯s reputation, claiming no one would ever hire them again if they didn¡¯t show up. So dramatic.

    But what could Raven do? They were all running ragged, bouncing from one crisis to the next, chased by lunatics dredging up buried traumas. She glanced at Katie, still curled up in Thiago¡¯s arms, her small body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep.

    ¡°So peaceful,¡± Raven muttered, exhaustion weighing down her words. It felt like she¡¯d been running for a lifetime.

    ¡°Well, fuck you, then!¡± Cinthia suddenly shouted into her agent, her eyes shifting back to their usual green as she ended the call.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Raven asked.

    ¡°My agent,¡± Cinthia grumbled, then noticed Raven¡¯s confused expression. ¡°I mean, the guy who handles all my sponsorships and the bureaucratic crap.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Raven said, leaning back in her chair.

    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s losing his shit over everything that¡¯s been going on,¡± Cinthia continued, flopping down beside Raven. ¡°You guys showing up at my place, the cops getting involved, and now me sitting here instead of rehearsing for our next concert. He¡¯s acting like I don¡¯t have enough on my plate.¡±

    Raven gave a tired nod, letting the silence between them settle for a moment. Around them, the station was still alive with the buzz of officers working the late shift, though most ignored the small group. Nieme had fallen asleep earlier, and Frank had brought them some snacks before returning to his desk.

    Whatever had passed between Frank and Nieme seemed to have smoothed things over¡ªat least a little. Nieme was noticeably less standoffish now, a change Raven couldn¡¯t miss. It was subtle, but even the smallest peace felt monumental. Nieme, the goofball who used to procrastinate rehearsals for... less-than-productive reasons, was finally stepping up and acting like an adult. And, oddly enough, he wasn¡¯t half bad at it.

    The whole dynamic of the band had Raven lost in thought. She found herself stealing a glance at Cinthia, her sister¡¯s neon-green makeup practically glowing even under the harsh lights of the station. Her outfit was obnoxiously bright, as usual, like she was defying the sunrise itself. Raven bit her nails absentmindedly. Part of it was nerves¡ªthis situation was a disaster¡ªbut part of it was the tangle of feelings her sister always brought up. Their past, their differences, and the sheer complexity of it all.

    Why did everything have to be so damn complicated? Greed, ego, expectations¡­ It all added layers of chaos to things that could¡¯ve been simple. And yet, there was Cinthia, effortlessly fitting into whatever mold people expected of her. How does she do it? Is she even happy? Raven wondered. Or is she just pretending?

    ¡°Y¡¯know,¡± Cinthia finally spoke, her earlier frustration simmering down, ¡°your band¡­ and this whole situation¡­ it just screams Raven to me.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Raven frowned, raising a skeptical brow. ¡°What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡±

    Cinthia grinned, shrugging. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about your chooms, but they¡¯re way outside the spectrum of normalcy.¡± She giggled before ticking off fingers. ¡°A former veteran, an anarchist-in-the-making, a dad, a ¡®simple guy¡¯ who somehow also fixes tech¡­¡±

    ¡°And Vomi,¡± Raven added pointedly.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ her,¡± Cinthia replied, shivering slightly. ¡°And then there¡¯s Carmine. But he¡¯s not part of the band, right?¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s not,¡± Raven confirmed with a slow shake of her head. ¡°But what¡¯s your point? How is any of this my ¡®brand¡¯ or whatever?¡±

    Cinthia put a finger to her chin, pretending to think hard with a playful hum. ¡°I guess the word I¡¯m looking for is¡­ honest? Yeah, you¡¯re honest.¡±

    ¡°Honest?¡± Raven repeated, thoroughly unconvinced.

    ¡°You don¡¯t hide who you are,¡± Cinthia explained. ¡°Well, maybe a few details here and there. But you¡¯ve always stood firm in your choices, even when they pissed people off. You never apologized for leaving Green Rhythm. You did what you thought was right, and that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s preem, y¡¯know?¡±

    Raven blinked, stunned by the sudden sincerity. ¡°Okay, what¡¯s with this talk all of a sudden? You¡¯ve never said anything like this before. And I begged you to stay with them when I left. I don¡¯t get why you¡¯re saying all this now.¡±

    Cinthia gave a small, wry smile. ¡°I never wanted to stay,¡± she admitted, resting her head lightly on Raven¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Not without you there. You had this energy, this drive¡­ and it¡¯s still here with The Refused. Green Rhythm was never going to be the same without you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Raven blinked in surprise. ¡°Then why¡¯d you stay?¡±

    ¡°Because I hoped you¡¯d come back,¡± Cinthia whispered. ¡°And¡­ I¡¯m not exactly great at making big decisions.¡±

    Raven snorted, shaking her head. ¡°Yeah, no kidding. But there¡¯s more to it than that, isn¡¯t there?¡±

    Cinthia hesitated, biting her lip as she sat up straighter. ¡°Yeah¡­ there¡¯s more,¡± she admitted, her playful demeanor faltering. ¡°I stayed because I was scared. Scared of failing, of leaving the one place where I knew people would at least tolerate me. And honestly? I was scared of being like you.¡±

    Raven tilted her head, brow furrowing. ¡°Like me?¡±

    ¡°You were so sure of yourself,¡± Cinthia said, her voice quieter now. ¡°You didn¡¯t care what anyone thought. You just¡­ left, Raven. You walked out on everything we built and never looked back. I couldn¡¯t do that. I thought if I tried, I¡¯d just¡ª¡± She cut herself off, shaking her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m not brave like you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s rich coming from someone who wears neon green in a city full of people who hate standing out,¡± Raven shot back, smirking despite herself. ¡°You think I didn¡¯t feel scared when I left? I was terrified, Cinthia. But staying there¡ªliving a lie¡ªwas worse.¡±

    Cinthia blinked, taken aback by her sister¡¯s bluntness. ¡°You never showed it. You always seemed so¡­ invincible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Raven admitted, her voice softer now. ¡°I¡¯ve just gotten good at faking it. And honestly? You don¡¯t give yourself enough credit. You¡¯ve got guts, sis. You¡¯ve just been putting them into the wrong things.¡±

    Cinthia gave a dry laugh. ¡°Yeah, like answering a million calls from sponsors and dealing with bureaucratic BS? Real gutsy of me.¡±

    ¡°More like dealing with people who treat you like a tool and still managing to keep your head up,¡± Raven countered. ¡°That takes strength, even if you don¡¯t see it.¡±

    Cinthia¡¯s face softened, her neon makeup catching the light as she glanced at her sister. ¡°You mean that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Raven said simply. ¡°And if you ever decide to stop playing their game, you know where to find me.¡±

    The two sisters sat in silence for a moment, the chaos of the police station fading into the background. Raven glanced toward Thiago and Katie, still curled up on the couch, and then back at Cinthia.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± Cinthia finally asked, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Now?¡± Raven said, leaning back with a tired smirk. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Sheesh, so much for confidence.¡±

    ¡°Fake confidence,¡± Raven admitted with a shrug.

    Cinthia giggled. ¡°Ha! I¡¯ll need to try that sometime.¡±

    ¡°Who knows,¡± Raven added, smirk growing sly, ¡°maybe we finally write that sisterly duet you always wanted.¡±

    Cinthia laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound that cut through the tension like a warm breeze. ¡°Don¡¯t tease me with hope, Raven.¡±

    ¡°Not a tease,¡± Raven replied, her smirk softening into something more genuine. ¡°Just¡­ a maybe.¡±

    Before Cinthia could respond, Frank¡¯s voice broke the moment. ¡°I see you two are getting along pretty well.¡±

    He was passing by with some files, probably work related.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Both sisters turned to stare at him, blank and wordless.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ point taken,¡± Frank muttered awkwardly, raising his hands in surrender before slipping away.

    Raven glanced back at Cinthia, already dismissing Frank¡¯s interruption. ¡°So, do you still want to stay with them?¡±

    ¡°With the band?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Cinthia didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°As it is right now? No fucking way.¡±

    Raven raised an eyebrow, surprised at the curse.

    ¡°We were supposed to do a collab with some other minor bands in Night City,¡± Cinthia continued with an exasperated sigh. ¡°I hate that town. Everyone there¡¯s so self-centered and fake.¡±

    ¡°The problem is,¡± Raven said knowingly, ¡°you¡¯re the singer. And I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re not loosening their grip on you.¡±

    ¡°Exactly that,¡± Cinthia grumbled. ¡°Feels like I¡¯m chained to the stage, whether I like it or not.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ we¡¯re kind of full, but have you thought about switching bands?¡± Raven asked casually.

    ¡°Oh, now you want me in the band, huh?¡±

    ¡°That was before I found out you didn''t like being there.¡±

    Cinthia raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°That has to be the most Raven invitation I¡¯ve ever heard you Raven out of your Raven mouth.¡±

    ¡°There are way too many Ravens in that sentence.¡±

    The two broke into laughter, the kind that came naturally, filled with nostalgia and the warmth of simpler times when they were just kids dreaming big.

    ¡°But to answer your question,¡± Cinthia said, still smiling, ¡°I¡¯d love to. If I could.¡±

    ¡°Your contract doesn¡¯t allow it?¡± Raven asked, her brain already piecing together a plan. ¡°I think I might have a way to help with that, and it¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Before she could finish, her eyes flickered yellow. An incoming call.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Cinthia asked, noticing the shift in Raven¡¯s expression.

    ¡°Heitor,¡± Raven replied, her voice suddenly serious. ¡°Give me a second.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡±

    <hr>

    Heitor Armstrong

    ¡°What happened, Heitor?¡± Raven asked the moment she answered, her tone sharp and focused.

    ¡°I¡¯m at one of the locations we pinged earlier. I think Vomi is going to hit this place first,¡± Heitor said, his gaze fixed on the building ahead.

    It was an unassuming gym, blending in with the surrounding businesses. If not for the logo¡ªa black knife with a medieval flair¡ªnothing about it would draw suspicion. The location was strategic: a public, densely populated area near a major highway that connected to various critical routes, perfect for trafficking goods or people.

    The gym wasn¡¯t just a front; it was a recruitment hub for the Black Daggers. The perfect cover. No one would think twice about netrunners operating inside a gym. They hid in plain sight, their operations shielded by the mundanity of their surroundings.

    Heitor had to admit, it was a clever setup.

    ¡°Well, the sun¡¯s already rising,¡± Raven said, her confusion evident. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t attacking now just put the entire media on her ass?¡±

    ¡°In most cases, yeah,¡± Heitor replied, pulling into a parking spot and cutting the engine. ¡°Even borgs would have a hard time hitting a place like this solo.¡±

    ¡°But...?¡± Raven pressed, sensing there was more.

    Heitor took a deep breath, his sharp eyes analyzing every detail of the building and its surroundings. His military instincts were firing on all cylinders, piecing together vulnerabilities others wouldn¡¯t even consider.

    ¡°But,¡± he continued, his voice calm and precise, ¡°Vomi isn¡¯t just anyone. She¡¯s calculated, knows how to weaponize chaos, maybe thanks to her corpo job or whatever. This place might look secure at first glance, but it¡¯s built for show, not for defense.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Raven asked, her tone matching his seriousness.

    ¡°It¡¯s a soft target dressed up to look tough. High traffic, high visibility¡ªthat¡¯s supposed to deter attacks, not stop them. She¡¯ll know how to use that. Look here.¡± Heitor activated the image-sharing function on his smartphone, highlighting a narrow alley tucked behind the gym. ¡°That¡¯s a blind spot. No cameras, minimal patrols. If she comes in through there, she can create a bottleneck and control the fight before anyone even realizes what¡¯s happening.¡±

    Raven¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°You¡¯re saying it¡¯s going to be a massacre.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need to make it one,¡± Heitor replied firmly. ¡°The chaos will do that for her. People will panic and scatter, drawing attention away from the real target. By the time anyone figures out what¡¯s happening, she¡¯ll have dismantled whatever operation they¡¯ve got running here.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic,¡± Raven muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°So what¡¯s the move? Warn the cops? Leak it to the media?¡±

    Heitor shook his head. ¡°Neither. The cops won¡¯t move fast enough, and the media will only turn this into a circus. If we want to stop her, we need to be in position before she makes her move.¡±

    Raven hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. ¡°Do you really think we can stay ahead of her? She¡¯s¡­ not exactly in her right mind right now.¡±

    Heitor smirked grimly. ¡°She¡¯s unpredictable, sure. But when you¡¯ve seen enough combat, you learn to recognize patterns, even in chaos. People like her¡ªthey hit fast, hard, and surgical. If I¡¯m right, she¡¯ll make her move within the hour, just shy of a full-blown Cyberpsycho episode.¡±

    ¡°Then you better get moving,¡± Raven said, already firing off texts to Carmine and Blaze.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the place scoped out,¡± Heitor replied, stepping out of his car. ¡°Get the others here ASAP. I¡¯ll do a closer sweep in the meantime.¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Raven said before ending the call.

    Cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders, Heitor sized up the gym one last time. ¡°Alright, Heitor. Time to save your choom from whatever the hell she¡¯s turned into.¡±

    The alley Heitor had pinpointed earlier stood out as the most viable entry point for an attack. It wasn''t without risks, but if the "Monster Vomi" persona was still in control, Heitor doubted it would matter much. Back in the military, he¡¯d seen soldiers rely too much on their armor and get flatlined because of it. But then there were those who truly understood their gear, exploiting every advantage it gave them.

    Vomi, though? She was already dangerously sharp. A skilled Netrunner, even without a Cyberdeck or full dives into the Net. If she was capable of pulling off corporate heists and infiltrations with nothing but her wit, then her new abilities¡ªwhatever they were¡ªwould only amplify her lethality. She¡¯d use them tactically, leveraging every ounce of her intellect.

    And no one had managed to stop her yet.

    Heitor scanned the surrounding area, considering other possible entry points. The windows on the upper floors caught his eye. They were in more populated areas and had stronger security measures. Would someone with Vomi¡¯s newfound power and confidence take that route? Tactically, it wouldn¡¯t make sense¡ªit¡¯d leave her exposed, relying entirely on her monstrous strength and resilience to endure any counterattack.

    But that same boldness could serve a purpose. A dramatic assault through a secure entry point could spread fear and chaos faster than anything else, leaving a psychological scar on her enemies.

    Still, as he weighed the options, Heitor kept returning to the alleyway. It was stealthier, allowed for a controlled bottleneck, and was just as capable of inciting panic. For someone who knew how to weaponize fear and efficiency, the alley was the smarter choice. And Vomi, whatever she¡¯d become, was nothing if not efficient.

    "She''ll take the alley," Heitor muttered to himself, his gaze narrowing. "Fast, surgical, and messy enough to make a statement."

    Heitor moved from his vantage point, boots crunching against the cracked pavement as he circled the perimeter. The gym was flanked by a convenience store on one side and a small, outdated net caf¨¦ on the other. Both could serve as potential staging grounds¡ªor collateral damage.

    The convenience store, open 24/7, had a steady trickle of customers. Civilians. Innocents who wouldn¡¯t stand a chance if Vomi¡¯s attack spiraled out of control. That alone could complicate things. Vomi wouldn¡¯t hesitate, but her chaos could draw unwanted attention from the city¡¯s elite response teams¡ªMaxTac or even the local corporation operatives if someone high up wanted to flex their muscle. Or money.

    The net cafe, however, gave him pause. It looked inconspicuous at first glance, with flickering neon signs and a handful of patrons hunched over terminals inside. But Heitor knew places like this were often fronts. They catered to Netrunners looking for anonymous dives, away from prying eyes.

    ¡°Could be a fallback point,¡± he muttered, adjusting the strap on his rifle bag. If the gym was the primary target, the caf¨¦ might serve as an escape route¡ªor even a secondary objective. He couldn¡¯t rule it out.

    Further down the street, an auto-repair shop caught his eye. Its wide garage doors were half-open, revealing a few rusted-out cars and a bored-looking mechanic. It wasn¡¯t part of the gym¡¯s operation, but it was dangerously close. If things went south, Vomi could use it as a shield¡ªor worse, as a trap for anyone pursuing her. Vehicles were excellent makeshift explosives in tight situations.

    Finally, Heitor turned his attention to the gym itself. The front entrance was predictably unremarkable¡ªa pair of glass doors leading into a reception area. A handful of wannabe mercs milled about inside, their bulked-up frames and overcompensating cyberware practically screaming "recruitment fodder."

    ¡°Standard muscle,¡± Heitor noted. ¡°Disposable. Not the real threat.¡±

    What stood out was the side entrance¡ªstaff only. A discreet door, marked with faded lettering and guarded by a single, bored-looking sentry. To the untrained eye, it was insignificant. But to Heitor, it was a glaring weak point.

    ¡°If I were her¡­¡± Heitor trailed off, imagining the approach. The alley for entry. The staff door as an internal breach point. From there, she¡¯d have direct access to the gym¡¯s core¡ªthe locker rooms, storage areas, and likely the servers if they were keeping data on-site.

    He adjusted his posture, hands resting on his hips as he mapped it out mentally.

    Points of Interest:

    1. The Alleyway: Stealth entry, ideal for creating chaos and bottlenecking.

    2. The Convenience Store: Collateral damage risk. Civilians inside could escalate media and response-team attention.

    3. The Net Caf¨¦: Potential fallback or secondary target. Could house hidden runners or serve as an escape point.

    4. The Auto-Repair Shop: A nearby hazard. Vehicles could be turned into weapons or shields in the crossfire.

    5. The Staff Entrance: A quiet, tactical breach point to access the gym¡¯s internals directly.

    As he finished up, a car pulled into the lot near his own. The doors opened, and Carmine stepped out first, trying to look casual despite the sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. Blaze followed, his faux leather jacket hiding the bulk of Cerberus, his shotgun, strapped securely underneath.

    ¡°Alright, choom, what are we dealing with?¡± Carmine asked, nodding toward the gym.

    Heitor gestured toward the building. ¡°Here¡¯s the sit-rep.¡±

    <hr>

    After Heitor¡¯s rundown, Blaze rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Sounds like as good a plan as we¡¯re gonna get.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a three-man team. Anything we do comes with risk,¡± Carmine pointed out, his tone matter-of-fact.

    Heitor nodded, his military demeanor kicking in. ¡°Our objective isn¡¯t to fight. We¡¯re here to collect Vomi¡¯s DNA and send it to M-Tech. That¡¯s it. No unnecessary engagements.¡±

    Blaze raised an eyebrow. ¡°And you think we can pull that off? She¡¯s not exactly playing by the same rules anymore.¡±

    Heitor¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°We use the chaos she creates as our cover. Get in, get what we need, and get out before anyone notices us. If we¡¯re lucky¡ªand I mean real lucky¡ªwe can do this in under sixty seconds.¡±

    Carmine smirked. ¡°Big if, choom. But hey, I¡¯ve seen crazier plans work.¡±

    Blaze snorted. ¡°Damn right you have.¡±

    He glanced at his smartphone¡ª7 AM. Twelve hours ago, they were rehearsing, prepping for their next gig. Everything had been so smooth, so normal. Now, they were running on fumes, the lack of sleep gnawing at the edges of their focus. But priorities had shifted. Someone needed their help, and their own exhaustion didn¡¯t matter in comparison.

    Blaze exhaled sharply, his thoughts racing. If none of this had happened¡ªno ambush, no beef with the Black Daggers¡ªwould they be okay right now? Sure, a merc¡¯s life was dangerous, even with the odd moments of peace as rockerboys. But this? This was different. Heitor had been through warzones, dealt with the kind of chaos most couldn¡¯t imagine, but not like this. Not chasing down a friend-turned-monster, not with stakes so personal.

    They stayed in position, eyes sharp, tension coiled in their bodies, waiting for the inevitable.

    Heitor took a moment to check the Chimera, Vomi''s custom rifle, making sure everything was in place. His voice cut through the still air, calm but resolute.

    ¡°All right,¡± he said. ¡°Time to move.¡±

    <hr>

    The morning sun cast long shadows over the city as the creature stood silently, its gaze locked on the gym ahead. This unassuming building was the latest hideout for the Black Daggers, a hub for recruiting fresh fodder into their ranks. It analyzed the structure with cold detachment. A facade, it thought. No more threatening than a back-alley chop shop where a handshake with the owner granted immunity. No real power here, just another brick in the crumbling wall of their operation.

    ¡°Good,¡± the symbiote spoke, its four voices blending into a discordant harmony, each carrying its unique malice. ¡°We finish this, weaken them. Their leader will come crawling into the open. Then¡­ he is next.¡±

    A flick of its alien senses was all it needed to assess the perimeter. An alley stood out¡ªa clear entry point for silent kills. But the symbiote craved more than efficiency. A message had to be sent. The Daggers needed to understand that their actions carried consequences. Not death¡ªno, that was far too simple. They required a reminder, a living nightmare that would persist in their minds and haunt their every move. Something unstoppable, unavoidable, and brutal.

    The creature shifted. The white spider emblazoned on its chest seemed to pulse, radiating menace. Yet this form would not suit the moment. Not yet. For now, a different approach was needed. Something bold, direct. A reckoning delivered in daylight.

    With a fluid ripple, the symbiote began to retreat, its black tendrils flowing like liquid over Vomi¡¯s skin. They did not vanish entirely, instead settling into a sleek, skin-tight armor that clung to her frame like a second skin. The armor resembled a military infiltration suit, though devoid of insignias or identifying marks. No helmet adorned her head, but the mask remained, the expressive white eyes narrowing as they locked onto the gym. Yet the tail still remained, refusing to leave.

    ¡°This will suffice,¡± Vomi murmured, her voice alone this time, though still carrying the edge of the symbiote¡¯s presence.

    For all anyone cared, she could have been an exotic. That was the beauty of exotics¡ªthe sheer absurdity of people willingly grafting animal parts to their bodies made them walking anomalies. And in a world like this, where chrome outweighed common sense, no one even blinked twice at a purple-skinned woman with a weird mask strolling through the morning haze.

    Without hesitation, she walked right up to the front doors of the gym. The building itself sat obliviously in the city''s sprawl, as though unaware¡ªor perhaps willfully ignorant¡ªthat death had come knocking. Or maybe they knew, but hadn''t quite pieced together that the elegant predator at their doorstep was there to dismantle them, one terrified scream at a time.

    The sliding doors hissed open, welcoming her like a gracious host to its own execution. Vomi, encased in her sleek, symbiotic armor, strolled inside with measured confidence. Her movements were calm, deliberate, each step more poised than the last, as though the universe itself bent to ensure her arrival was perfect.

    At the front desk, a girl sat slouched in a chair, the epitome of youthful disdain. Her Black Dagger jacket was draped lazily over her shoulders, mismatched with a bubblegum pink hair tie that clashed violently with the atmosphere. She chewed loudly, snapping her gum with an audible pop, sparing Vomi a single uninterested glance.

    "Welcome to the Darkest Gym," she drawled, her tone dripping with the lethargy of someone working a job that paid more in apathy than eddies. "Where we solve your problems not with logic or, y''know, common sense, but with pure, unfiltered muscle mass." She gestured vaguely toward a terminal beside the turnstile. "Subs start at fifty eddies. Premium packages are over there on the screen if you''re feelin'' fancy."

    For a moment, Vomi indulged the performance. She moved to the terminal with an air of curiosity, the white slits of her symbiotic mask narrowing in a way that mimicked amusement. With the newfound benefit of the Cyberdeck mimicking chrome, she started plugging her personal cord into the jack, letting the symbiote work. A cascade of digital prompts lit up her vision¡ªthe familiar Breach Protocol UI she''d seen countless times in her past, exactly as shown in Cyberpunk, even the buffer size showing. It was, ironically, more nostalgic than threatening.

    Easier times. Simpler times.

    Behind her, the girl continued, blissfully unaware. "We admit exotics, but you gotta register your chrome for safety reasons or whatever," she said, rolling her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn¡¯t pop out. She then pulled out her phone, opening three social media apps in rapid succession without missing a beat. "Take your time, purple lady. I get paid by the hour, not by how fast you move."

    Vomi didn¡¯t look up from the terminal, her fingers deftly tapping commands as the symbiote burrowed deeper into the gym''s systems. She almost smiled. "Don¡¯t worry," she replied, her voice measured and smooth. "I¡¯m not in a rush."

    "Preem," the girl muttered, eyes glued to her phone. She didn¡¯t even bother to look up again.

    Vomi¡¯s eyes lit up, not with the artificial glow of optics but with something far more primal¡ªan organic intelligence that mimicked the efficiency of chrome without any of its vulnerabilities. The symbiote coursing through her veins was more than just a tool; it was an evolution, and right now, it was devouring the data streaming through the terminal with a hunger that bordered on feral.

    The gym¡¯s private server unraveled before her like an exposed nerve. It held everything: Black Daggers¡¯ member rosters, ongoing schemes, plans for heists, routes for drug production and distribution. But none of that mattered. She wasn¡¯t here to steal or expose their operations. She was here to send a message¡ªa sharp, brutal one that no amount of corporate spin could dull.

    What caught her attention wasn¡¯t their stash of secrets but the very defenses meant to protect them. The security protocols¡ªcrafted by one of their best Netrunners¡ªcould be turned against them with a few well-placed manipulations. The irony was almost poetic.

    The symbiote moved quickly, accessing a dormant hack buried deep within the system.

    Contagion.

    The name alone carried a sinister weight. This wasn¡¯t a simple program designed to overload circuits or crash hardware; it was something far worse. It targeted not just chrome but the fragile human bodies that relied on it. The virus forced an immune system response so violent that it turned flesh and cyberware into adversaries, tearing each other apart from the inside out.

    And the real beauty? Contagion lived up to its name. Once released, it would spread, leaping from one target to the next via every unsecured breach, every hidden backdoor. It wasn¡¯t just a hack¡ªit was a plague, engineered for chaos.

    The mask covering Vomi¡¯s face twisted into a sinister approximation of a grin, the anticipation almost palpable. It was all so easy. Just one push of a button, and the Black Daggers would learn what it truly meant to lose control.

    "Wait..." The girl squinted, her disinterest giving way to unease as she studied Vomi more closely. "Do I know you?"

    The symbiote''s tail flicked lazily behind her, a silent expression of amusement -predatory, deliberate, much like a cat toying with its prey. "Perhaps," came the smooth reply, her voice calm yet dripping with menace.

    Before the girl could react, Vomi raised the Nue, the sleek pistol''s muzzle pressing directly against the bridge of the girl''s nose.

    BANG!

    The shot rang out like a starting gun, snapping the gym out of its complacency. The girl collapsed in a boneless heap, a bloom of crimson staining the floor behind her. The noise had done its job, stirring the nearby Black Daggers into a frantic, confused scramble.

    But that wasn''t the real game.

    In the milliseconds after the shot, Contagion took hold, slipping silently through the gym''s digital veins, weaving through every connected implant and system. The effect was immediate. Shouts of confusion twisted into cries of agony as bodies began betraying their chrome. A man clutched his face as his optics shorted out, sparks flying from his skull. Another fell to the floor, his reinforced legs seizing violently, crushing his own flesh in their relentless grip.

    The symbiote drank in the chaos, its mask curving into a subtle, sinister smirk. This could be indulgent-a feast of suffering, a slow unraveling of each target until their desperation became art. But indulgence was not the mission. Efficiency was.

    Without hesitation, Vomi stepped forward, her movements fluid and methodical. She kept the Nue steady, aiming with precision honed not by practice but by instinct. One by one, she executed the writhing gangsters with single, clinical shots to the head.

    The Nue''s magazine clicked empty, but Vomi didn''t falter. She stooped down, plucked a discarded handgun from one of her victims, and continued her work without missing a beat. Each shot was an exclamation point in a symphony of destruction, the sound of gunfire and panicked screams reverberating through the gym''s once-hollow walls.

    One by one, they fell, each corpse a testament to the inevitability of her wrath. The symbiote didn''t just kill¡ªit erased. Every movement was purposeful, every kill a step closer to the only thing that mattered: ensuring the Black Daggers understood who they had provoked.

    "This floor is clear," one of the voices in Vomi''s mind noted, calm and measured, though edged with caution, a whisper of dread. "The damage might have spilled into the other floors. Expect resistance."

    "Best we keep going," another voice urged, this one electric with bloodlust, "Don''t let them regroup. Don''t let them think. Kill while they''re still terrified. Confusion is our advantage."

    "Our strategy is working," the third chimed in, coldly analytical. Its tone carried the faintest hint of amusement. "Even if it was devised on a whim. Their surveillance is in shambles. No need to hold back.¡±

    Vomi nodded slowly, her movements deliberate as if appeasing the cacophony in her head. "The faster this ends," she said aloud, "the faster we can rest."

    But then came a voice not born of the symbiote¡ªa human voice, familiar and grounded.

    "Vomi?"

    The symbiote whipped around, tail flicking defensively. The Nue, now warmed by the massacre, snapped up, its barrel fixed on the source of the voice. Vomi''s mask twisted, sharp eyes locking onto the figure in the doorway.

    It was Heitor.

    Recognition flickered, and the grip on the gun relaxed. The tail stilled, though irritation lingered, directed not at Heitor himself but at his audacity to be here, in this place, in this moment.

    "Heitor," the symbiote said, its voice a blend of Vomi''s own and something deeper, primal.

    Heitor stepped forward cautiously, the soles of his boots crunching over shattered glass and pooling blood. His face betrayed nothing outright, but Vomi could see it all¡ªthe disbelief, the conflict, the unspoken questions swirling just beneath his hardened expression.

    "You did all this?" He gestured faintly at the carnage, bodies crumpled in grotesque angles, walls painted with jagged sprays of red. "In less than a minute?"

    His voice was steady, but the disbelief was there, lingering on the edges. Subtle, but not invisible.

    The symbiote stared at him, its predatory stillness unnerving. For a moment, none of the voices spoke, and neither did Vomi.

    "It was necessary," Vomi finally replied, her voice quiet but resolute. The mask over her face softened slightly, the monstrous edges retreating just enough to remind Heitor of who she used to be¡ªwho she still might be.

    Heitor''s jaw tightened. He looked past her, scanning the room as though trying to piece together how something so brutal, so clinical, could have been orchestrated by the woman he knew.

    "They were... threats," she continued, her voice lowering. "I neutralized them."

    "You call this neutralizing?" Heitor said, gesturing at the chaos around them. His tone wasn''t accusatory¡ªit was incredulous, even a little impressed despite himself.

    "Efficient," one of the symbiote''s voices interjected, unseen but felt.

    ¡°That''s sure one way to call it¡­¡±, Heitor exhaled sharply, regaining his composure. "Look, Vomi. Whatever this is... we''ve got bigger problems. If you''re not careful, we''re going to have MaxTac breathing down our necks. Or worse."

    The symbiote''s tail flicked again, this time in irritation. "Then don''t waste time," it said, and there was no mistaking the edge in its tone.

    Vomi turned her back to him, stepping toward the stairwell. "You shouldn''t even be here. You should be somewhere safe. All of you should be safe.¡±

    Heitor hesitated, watching her as she disappeared into the shadows ahead, her voice drifting back toward him, cold and decisive:

    ¡°None of this is over until all of them are dead.¡±

    Heitor sighed, his voice heavy. "I know. And I¡¯m sorry."

    ¡°For what?¡± Vomi turned to him, startled by the sudden weight in his words.

    Then it happened¡ªa sharp sting at her neck. Her hand shot up instinctively, clawing at the source of the pain. It wasn¡¯t just a needle piercing her skin¡ªit was something taking, stealing what was theirs.

    The symbiote flared, rage boiling over as she spun around, ready to strike. But then she saw him.

    ¡°Heitor¡­?¡±

    Her voice cracked as recognition set in, but it was too late.

    A single motion. Not even a deliberate punch¡ªa reflex, driven by survival, by instinct.

    Vomi stared, frozen. For the first time, the weight of death wasn¡¯t distant. It wasn¡¯t just another tally. It was there.

    ¡°Why¡­ why is there a hole in your chest?¡±

 Chapter 31: Enemy

    Heitor Armstrong

    Y''know, I never really thought much about Vomi when she first showed up. Hell, the whole band was Thiago and Raven¡¯s idea. I wasn¡¯t even part of the original group when it started coming together. Back then, I was mostly waiting to die in the apartment above Blaze''s store.

    Blaze and I met after I came back from South America. He was downing a cart full of piss beer¡ªstill beer, though¡ªand I joined him for a few. I wasn¡¯t much for drinking back then, not like him. Eventually, he asked if I knew anything about tech. I did¡ªenough to get by¡ªso we started working together.

    Blaze was already friends with Thiago, and Thiago had been joking around with Raven and Nieme, his long-time chooms. Nieme, being Nieme, made some crack about how they all hated corpos and should form a band to rake in eddies while dunking on them. Raven had a music background, Thiago had done some editing work before, and Nieme¡ªwell, Nieme needed something to do besides trash-talking the NCPD, watching BDs, and, y¡¯know, masturbating.

    Thiago eventually brought in Blaze, who turned out to be a damn good guitarist, and Blaze roped me in. The only thing left to play was drums, so I figured, why not? Took some lessons and found out it wasn¡¯t all that different from multitasking in the field. The battlefield teaches you to do five things at once or die trying. By everyone else¡¯s standards, I was apparently the reincarnation of whatever legendary drummer came before me.

    The first song we tried playing together was Black Dog by Samurai. That was a mess. No tabs, no sheet music, just bits and pieces of a song older than most of the city¡¯s ruins. We spent weeks trying to figure it out before deciding to make our own version. Raven hated it. She didn¡¯t even stick around to finish¡ªwent off and wrote her own song from scratch. That¡¯s how we got Bring Her to Life a few weeks later.

    After that, it became a rule: everyone writes their own song for the album. Gigs started rolling in, we got a warehouse to rehearse, life was¡­ fine. A blur, really. But I wasn¡¯t feeling it. Sure, it was better than rotting in my room or making bad bets (and losing them all) with Blaze, but I didn¡¯t see myself as someone who could make something.

    Thiago kept pushing me, though. Told me one day he¡¯d bring his daughter to see us play. Said it was what kept him going after her mom died. That¡¯s when I realized what this band was to them¡ªit wasn¡¯t just about the music. It was a way to heal, to focus on something other than the pain. I could respect that. Didn¡¯t think it¡¯d work for me, but I gave it a shot anyway.

    Tried writing songs. They were all gonk.

    Every single one.

    Nieme surprised us with something solid. Blaze, too¡ªhis song was borderline nonsense but catchy as hell. I finally buckled down to try harder. Around that time, Thiago decided to bring in another member¡ªmaybe for backup guitar or a digital piano. That¡¯s when we met Vomi.

    She was pale, quiet, with these striking red eyes. Always had a cat with her, too. Vanguard, I think she called him. Strange thing, that cat¡ªtoo perfect, like it was trained. But it listened to her every word and gesture.

    Huh. Curious.

    Did I say I didn¡¯t think much about Vomi? Scratch that¡ªI barely registered her presence until we did that gig. She had this knack for making herself indispensable with her laptop, like she was the missing piece we didn¡¯t know we needed. Honestly, it was surprising. I thought we were focused on going all-in with music, but the harsh reality of being perpetually broke meant we couldn¡¯t escape dipping into a life of crime to scrape by. That gig, though, was the first time all of us were needed. Raven took charge, barking orders like a natural leader.

    Later that night, we asked Thiago where he¡¯d found Vomi. When he admitted he had to drink a ridiculous amount just to get her attention, we couldn¡¯t stop laughing. Thiago¡ªfamily man, lightweight, clean-cut¡ªpounding back drinks to impress someone? Even Vomi called him out on it. That night stands out as one of the most genuine moments I¡¯d had in years. Not long after, Vomi was part of everything we did. She even came up with the name for the band:

    The Refused.

    A good fucking name. I¡¯d never have come up with something like that.

    The moment that really clicked for all of us, though, was when she started singing during rehearsals. It was like a neon sign flashing over her head¡ªshe needed to be part of this, and not just as our Netrunner. Blaze took the lead, handing her his guitar and walking her through the basics. She barely strummed a few chords before the strings snapped, and her panicked apology had us in stitches.

    The next gig was a success¡ªenough to get everyone new gear. We pushed Vomi to pick something for herself, and she eventually caved. Having her as a backup guitarist turned out to be a solid call. She practiced constantly, playing popular rock songs and even obscure ones, nailing them by ear and improvising her own chords. It was impressive, to say the least.

    Then came the day she told us she was joining M-Tech for their Netrunning division. Everyone hated the idea. Corpos always change people, no matter what they promise. I started dismantling the small, idealized image I had of her, expecting her to become just another sellout.

    But Vomi? She stayed Vomi.

    Fuck she even made a song. Well, the lyrics and the guitar. Thiago and I did the whole rest, but the point still stands.

    Sure, her eyes changed¡ªthose black-red things she has now¡ªbut the goofy, focused, and oddly brilliant person we met? She never disappeared.

    And I don''t know how the fuck that''s possible.

    But looking at her now, standing there in front of me, I don¡¯t see the Vomi I thought I knew. I see something else entirely. Something terrified.

    She¡¯s shaking. Her face, though twisted into that sharp, monstrous mask, is full of regret. I¡¯ve seen fear before¡ªhell, I¡¯ve caused it¡ªbut this¡­ this is different. It¡¯s like she¡¯s scared of herself.

    The Black goo coils around her like it¡¯s alive, twitching and tense. I can¡¯t tell where it ends and she begins. Maybe there is no difference. And yet, I still see her, Vomi, beneath it all. The goofy guitarist who couldn¡¯t play a song without snapping strings, the one who came up with The Refused and made us all believe we could actually make something of ourselves.

    My chest aches¡ªor maybe it doesn¡¯t. It¡¯s hard to tell. The cold is creeping in, numbing everything.

    Was it always this cold? I can¡¯t feel a thing¡­

    Fuck¡­

    <hr>

    Vomi kept staring, motionless. Her hand slowly withdrew from Heitor''s chest, trembling as blood dripped from the gaping hole she''d made. Her arm was slick with it, the crimson pooling beneath him. Her mind was¡­ empty. Blank. No¡ªworse than that. It was calculating, detached.

    Biomass.

    That word lingered in her head. Why was that the first thing she thought?

    ¡°Heitor! Are you good? We need to¡ª¡±

    Carmine''s voice faltered as he ran into the room. He froze mid-sentence, his gaze locking on the scene. Vomi¡ªno, not Vomi. The thing that had taken her¡ªstood over Heitor¡¯s lifeless body, staring down at him like she didn¡¯t even recognize what she¡¯d done.

    And then the monster turned its head toward Carmine.

    He couldn¡¯t move. Couldn''t even breathe. The carnage surrounding her, the shredded bodies of Black Daggers, was horrifying enough. But Heitor¡ªHeitor was theirs. He was supposed to be untouchable. He gambled that Vomi wouldn''t hurt them.

    ¡°Carmine! What¡¯s going on?¡± Blaze¡¯s voice broke through the suffocating silence. He jogged closer, but when Carmine didn¡¯t answer, he pushed past him.

    Then he saw.

    ¡°Heitor? Oh, fuck!¡± Blaze ran to the body, dropping to his knees beside him. His hands hovered, shaking, as though touching him might make it real. ¡°What¡ªhow did this happen? What the hell is this hole¡ª¡±

    ¡°Blaze.¡± Carmine¡¯s voice quivered, barely audible. ¡°Step away. From her.¡±

    Blaze¡¯s head snapped up. ¡°What are you¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s her,¡± Carmine muttered, his words like shattered glass. ¡°It was the monster. She did this.¡±

    Blaze glanced at the symbiote, its mask unreadable but its posture tense, like a recoiled predator ready to pounce. His gaze fell back to Heitor, limp and cold in his arms. The blood soaked everything¡ªthe flood, his hands, even Heitor''s dog tags.

    Heitor was gone. Dead. Flatlined.

    The symbiote¡¯s voice cracked, trying to speak through the chaos of emotions it couldn¡¯t quite control. ¡°We¡­¡±

    It reached a trembling hand toward Blaze.

    SLAP

    Blaze batted it away, his face twisted in fury. His Cerberus shotgun was already leveled at Vomi¡¯s head, the barrel steady in his chrome-enhanced arms.

    BANG!

    The first shot slammed into her, forcing her back a step.

    BANG!

    The second made her stagger, the shrapnel tearing through her skin.

    BANG!

    The third struck harder, but the monster barely flinched now, her body beginning to adapt.

    Blaze didn¡¯t care. He kept firing, his rage fueling each pull of the trigger, intent on emptying the magazine. Each recoil rattled his frame, but he didn¡¯t stop. Not until Carmine rushed in and grabbed his arm, yanking him back.

    ¡°Blaze! Stop! She¡¯s not going down like this!¡±

    Blaze shoved him aside, his shaking hands already reaching to reload. ¡°I¡¯ll kill her! I¡¯ll fucking kill her!¡±

    ¡°Blaze, listen to me!¡± Carmine yelled, his voice breaking under the weight of desperation. ¡°We need to grab the syringe and delta! Do you want Heitor¡¯s death to mean nothing?!¡±

    Vomi¡¯s body twitched as the shrapnel and bullets began to push out of her wounds, the pain dull but lingering. The holes in her symbiotic flesh closed, leaving only faint marks. She stared at them both, her voice low and trembling.

    ¡°The syringe¡­?¡± The symbiote¡¯s mask tilted, piecing it together. ¡°What did you do to me?¡±

    Blaze roared, his fury overtaking him. ¡°Take it! Take the goddamn thing! I don¡¯t care!¡± He leveled the shotgun again, his finger hovering over the trigger. ¡°But I¡¯m not leaving without putting this thing down!¡±

    ¡°Blaze, you¡¯re losing it!¡± Carmine shouted, grabbing him again. ¡°What¡¯s the point of dying here like a fucking gonk? We need to get to M-Tech now!¡±

    ¡°M-Tech¡­¡± The symbiote¡¯s voice chilled, a realization sinking in. ¡°Even those we protect¡­ they seek to destroy us.¡±

    ¡°DIE!¡± Blaze screamed, shoving Carmine away as he slammed another shell into the chamber and firing again.

    The symbiote''s thoughts churned, a storm of emotions and instinct crashing against each other. Attack. Apologize. Protect. End the pain. Their purpose was clear¡ªprotect the vessel''s chosen and punish those who threatened. But what happens when the protected become the enemy? When their actions lead to death and betrayal?

    Confusion clawed at them. Choices piled upon choices, all meaningless in the whirl of indecision. Protect? Punish? Fight? Flee? The world outside was chaos, but inside was worse-a cacophony of confusion, confusion, confusion.

    "Fuck this! I''m out!" Carmine''s voice broke through, snapping the tension like a gunshot. He snatched the syringe from the ground near Heitor''s body, gagging at the sight of the gore. Without another glance, he bolted, leaving Blaze alone in his blind, furious assault.

    Above, more Black Daggers were descending the stairs, drawn by the chaos. They paused at the sight of Blaze, unloading round after round into the slowly transforming symbiote. Then they saw the monster.

    It wasn''t Vomi anymore.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The gangsters'' hesitation turned to panic as they opened fire, shouting orders, their iron aimed at the growing beast.

    Blaze didn''t stop. Neither did the symbiote.

    Vomi, buried deep within, didn''t want to kill. She didn''t want to become what they feared.

    But they had to.

    Carmine ran, the distant sounds of screaming, barking orders, and the wet crunch of breaking bones haunting his every step. He didn''t dare look back, his mind a singular focus on survival. Bursting into the car they''d used to get here, he jammed the key in and slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

    It wasn''t until the city lights blurred past him that he dared look at the syringe in his hand. The black substance within twisted and shifted unnaturally, as though alive. It moved in ways that defied reason, pulsating with an unsettling rhythm, almost... aware.

    Carmine shoved the syringe into a bag, gripping the wheel tighter. He prayed the syringe was strong enough to contain whatever nightmare he''d just taken.

    ¡°Shit¡­ shit, fuck, God fucking dammit!¡± Carmine slammed his hands on the wheel, his knuckles white with tension.

    Barely a month and a half out of lockup, and this is what he¡¯s thrown into? Corporations, gangs, and now biological monsters? He wasn¡¯t cut out for this. He was a street racer, not some black ops merc. How the hell was he supposed to survive this insanity?

    But no matter how much he cursed, the syringe in his bag sat like a ticking bomb in his mind. He needed to deliver it to Graves, now. No second-guessing. No hesitation. Still, questions swirled.

    How was he supposed to contact Raven? He didn¡¯t have the secure phone, just his standard agent. And those could be traced, right? The Black Daggers do have tech way beyond anything he could counter. But at this point, what was the point of staying hidden?

    The Daggers might figure out that this whole thing was way bigger than some petty beef with The Refused. They might come after him for the syringe, might hunt them all down, might¡ª

    ¡°Focus!¡± Carmine shouted at himself, the sound cracking in the suffocating quiet of the car.

    It didn¡¯t help. His mind kept screaming.

    It¡¯s a monster! How do you even begin to focus on anything else when there¡¯s a fucking monster in the mix?!

    Oh, the M-Tech building. Finally.

    Carmine pulled up, his pulse pounding in his ears. Relief was quickly replaced by dread as he muttered, ¡°Please work. Please, please make this serum work.¡±

    <hr>

    Graves observed from behind the safety of the bulletproof mirror, arms folded and face unreadable. Beside him stood Carmine, tense and pale, flanked by an entire security team. Guns, thermal scanners, even white phosphorus¡ªM-Tech wasn¡¯t taking any chances with the sample the street racer had delivered. The precautions only amplified the anxiety thrumming in the room.

    The lead scientist worked with unsettling urgency, taking the syringe and immediately beginning the process. The entire R&D facility buzzed like a hive of activity, engineers and researchers scrambling to create a "cure" for Vomi.

    At first, Carmine watched with morbid fascination. The experiments were brutal, grotesque¡ªa blur of attempts and failures. Whatever serums they concocted, each one seemed worse than the last. He saw one poor test subject collapse into a bubbling mess, another convulse before their body hardened into something unnatural.

    He lasted through three tests before he turned away, bile rising in his throat. "Nope," he muttered, stepping out of view. His stomach churned, and the screams echoing from the lab didn¡¯t help.

    From where he stood, Carmine clenched his fists. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re doing,¡± he whispered to no one in particular, ¡°it better be worth it.¡±

    ¡°You say that like we have much of a choice,¡± Graves said, his arms unfolding as he rested his hands on his hips. ¡°Mister Miranda will want to see you.¡±

    ¡°Mister who?¡±

    ¡°That would be me.¡±

    A voice from behind Graves cut through the air, smooth and self-assured. Antonio Miranda stepped forward¡ªa sharply dressed man with calculating eyes. ¡°Antonio Miranda, CEO, owner, and co-creator of M-Tech. Not to be confused with Militech.¡± He extended a hand toward Carmine with a polite smile.

    Carmine didn¡¯t take it.

    ¡°Heh,¡± Miranda chuckled softly, retracting his hand. ¡°People used to be polite.¡±

    ¡°People usually don¡¯t turn into that¡ª¡± Carmine pointed toward the test room. A bloodcurdling scream punctuated his words, echoing through the lab. ¡°¡ªor whatever the hell you¡¯re doing to those people in there.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of,¡± Miranda said, turning casually to the observation window, ¡°how¡¯s it going? Any progress? Good news, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Nothing viable yet,¡± Graves admitted. ¡°The samples cause rapid cellular degeneration upon contact. But if we¡ª¡±

    Miranda raised a hand, silencing him. ¡°If it needs to be destroyed entirely, then so be it. We can¡¯t afford to let this get more public than it already is.¡± He shook his head, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. ¡°KanedaCorp is sniffing around, and if Arasaka decides to take an interest, we¡¯ll have a damn circus in San Francisco. For all we know, the media¡¯s already caught wind of this mess.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Graves replied, his tone subdued. He stepped closer, lowering his voice for Miranda¡¯s ears alone. ¡°But if you want a safer option¡ªif you want to extract and pacify the symbiote¡ªit is possible. Risky, but possible.¡±

    Miranda¡¯s expression hardened as he considered the suggestion.

    ¡°The monster¡¯s name is symbiote?¡± Carmine asked with a bitter laugh, breaking the tension. ¡°Yeah, that tracks. Real fitting.¡±

    Carmine pondered if they even could save Vomi. They just said that the samples they tried kill all the cells on the body. That means Vomi would die, and considering the short time window before the symbiote is here, he doubted it would be effective to neutralize without killing it in the process.

    ¡°As humorous as your commentary is, dear guest¡­¡± Miranda raised a hand, signaling one of the guards. The gesture was subtle, but the guard understood the unspoken command immediately.

    ¡°What are you¡ª¡±

    BANG!

    The sound of the gunshot echoed through the sterile lab, and Carmine slumped to the floor.

    ¡°No loose ends,¡± Miranda said flatly, handing the pistol back to the guard without a second thought. He dusted his hands as if the act itself was a minor inconvenience. ¡°Use his body for testing. If the serum fails, incinerate it. If it succeeds, proceed with further trials.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, sir,¡± Graves said, his voice cold and distant.

    He glanced down at Carmine¡¯s lifeless body, a pang of unease flashing briefly in his eyes before it was buried under the weight of his corporate pragmatism. This was how things worked. There was never going to be a scenario where Carmine walked away alive.

    The scientists wasted no time, carting the body off to their testing chambers. Graves stood frozen for a moment, watching the scene unfold. His foot tapped the floor, betraying his growing impatience and anxiety as the process began.

    <hr>

    ¡°Nani?!¡± Kaneda exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.

    The chaos in San Francisco was escalating rapidly. From the highest corporate offices to the streets where the homeless gathered, everyone now had a clear view of the symbiote¡ªof Vomi.

    The only thing keeping this catastrophe from dominating every screen worldwide was San Francisco''s notoriously poor external connections. News leaving the city took hours, sometimes longer, to filter out. But within those confines, every single person with ties to the project¡ªinvestors, entrepreneurs, and government officials¡ªwas now watching the chaos unfold in real-time. Their expressions likely mirrored his: a mixture of shock, disbelief, and growing dread.

    For Kaneda, this was worse than a PR nightmare. It was career suicide. His ambitious project was already being twisted into a potential weapon, despite his original intentions. Now, with footage of the symbiote¡ªof Vomi¡ªripping apart gang members and harming even her so-called allies, the narrative was spiraling completely out of control.

    "This is ruining me," Kaneda muttered as he entered the elevator, lost in thought.

    His mind raced for solutions. He could spin this, try to pin the blame on someone else¡ªArasaka, perhaps. They were a believable target, with their history of corporate warfare and morally bankrupt ventures. The common gonk would believe it. Arasaka was still working overtime to repair their reputation, framing themselves as the benevolent architects of the future, educating "the next generation of corporate leaders." Anyone with half a brain knew it was nonsense. Arasaka cared only about their bottom line and Saburo Arasaka''s grand, ego-driven vision.

    But then again, wasn¡¯t that what people thought of KanedaCorp too? His company¡¯s reputation wasn¡¯t spotless, even with the front row filled with successful and ¡°safe experiments¡±. If anyone dug deeper, they¡¯d find the same underlying greed, no matter how much he tried to distance himself from it. This disaster could push him into the same category as Saburo¡ªa tyrant clinging to power at any cost.

    Kaneda entered his office, his footsteps echoing in the expansive space. The screens on the walls showed local news on loop: footage of the massacre at the Black Daggers gym, the terrifying visage of Vomi as the symbiote consumed her, and the horrifying moment she attacked her bandmates. Every detail was being dissected by talking heads and analysts, with speculative headlines scrolling below:

    "Possible virus outbreak. Is it going to be contained?"

    "Monstrous Incident Linked to local Corporations.¡±

    "Corporate Experiment or Urban Legend?"

    He leaned against his desk, rubbing his temples. The possibilities of salvaging this mess were shrinking with every passing second. There was only one person he could think of to call before considering more drastic, albeit efficient, measures.

    Kaneda didn¡¯t want his company to become another Arasaka from fifty years ago.

    "Fuck it. I don''t have other options," Kaneda muttered, reluctantly pulling out his agent.

    The familiar buzz of a call echoed in his office. The other end took its time, but eventually, the line connected.

    ¡°Kaneda,¡± came the woman¡¯s voice. It was smooth, condescending, and laced with amusement. ¡°Have you seen the news?¡±

    ¡°I need your help. Onegai,¡± Kaneda pleaded immediately, the display on his agent showing her image¡ªthough she kept the video angled to reveal only her lips and the faint silhouette of her face.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. ¡°And why would Ascendant Innovations even consider helping KanedaCorp? What¡¯s in it for us? As far as I know, we aren¡¯t the symbiote¡¯s target.¡±

    She spoke like an insufferable socialite, savoring every second of Kaneda¡¯s discomfort. It was true, and she enjoyed twisting the knife¡ªAscendant had nothing to do with the current mess. If they stayed out of it, they could swoop in later and profit from KanedaCorp''s downfall, acquiring assets for ennies on the Eurodollar. Cybernetics and bioware were vastly different markets with little overlap. Why dirty their hands when someone else was already bleeding?

    ¡°Liu Jinxiu,¡± Kaneda said, voice tight, ¡°this isn¡¯t the time for games.¡±

    ¡°Games?¡± she replied, her tone mockingly innocent. ¡°I¡¯m merely asking a question. You¡¯re the one on your knees calling me, Kaneda. What could possibly be so dire?¡±

    Kaneda gritted his teeth. Jinxiu had always been a shark, circling blood in the water. The CEO of Ascendant Innovations, she thrived on chaos, especially if it wasn¡¯t hers. Still, he had no choice.

    ¡°The symbiote is out of control,¡± he began, swallowing his pride. ¡°It¡¯s adapting faster than our containment protocols. And as far as I know, M-Tech is weaponizing the bioware, although it is is failing.¡±

    ¡°Failing spectacularly,¡± she interjected with a sly chuckle. ¡°You¡¯ve made quite the mess. Why don¡¯t you call Militech? Or Biotechnica? They¡¯re better at dealing with¡­ organic disasters.¡±

    Kaneda clenched his fists, forcing calm into his tone. ¡°This might be their field, Jinxiu, but I don''t want this to reach them. But you? You have the expertise. You have the resources.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re desperate enough to come begging,¡± she said, tilting her head. ¡°How flattering.¡±

    ¡°Just name your price.¡± Kaneda''s voice was sharp, cutting through her mockery.

    There was a pause, and then she smiled. It wasn¡¯t a kind smile, ¡°Very well, Kaneda. I¡¯ll help you clean up this little disaster of yours. But when this is over¡­¡±

    She leaned closer to the screen, her lips curling into a smirk. ¡°Ascendant takes full control of your bioware division. Every patent. Every file. Every ounce of research.¡±

    Kaneda''s stomach twisted. That division was his lifeline, his legacy¡ªbut he was cornered. Without her, the symbiote would destroy more than just his company.

    Damned if he did, damned if he didn''t.

    ¡°¡­Deal,¡± he said, the word tasting like ash in his mouth.

    ¡°Good boy.¡± Jinxiu ended the call abruptly, leaving Kaneda staring at the blank screen.

    Kaneda exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he''d just done. He didn¡¯t trust Jinxiu¡ªnot in the slightest¡ªbut for now, she was his only hope. A slim, precarious hope.

    But hope alone wouldn¡¯t be enough. No, there needed to be contingencies. Safety measures. Ones he wasn¡¯t proud of but would use if he had to.

    Kaneda left his office, heading straight to the elevator. He swiped his card and selected the lowest level, a floor hidden beneath the last, buried far beneath the main building.

    This was where the gift awaited him. A "gift" from a corporate ally¡ªone that no longer existed, swallowed by mergers or destroyed by their own hubris before Kaneda had a chance to even reciprocate. Though labeled as a token of goodwill, the item felt more like an omen. Its very presence implied that someday, Kaneda would need it.

    And that day seemed dangerously close.

    The elevator doors slid open, revealing a sterile, dimly lit hallway guarded by thick steel doors and a pair of heavily armed guards. One of them raised an eyebrow at the sight of Kaneda.

    ¡°Sir?¡± the guard asked, straightening to attention. ¡°Never seen you down here before. Are we greenlighting a new project, or¡­ is this about Ouroboros?¡±

    Kaneda barely acknowledged the question, stepping into the hallway with purposeful strides. ¡°Call my assistant. I want him down here immediately,¡± he ordered, his tone clipped, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

    The guard exchanged a nervous glance with his partner. ¡°Uh¡­ sure. Good talk,¡± he muttered as Kaneda disappeared down the hall, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake.

    Behind the final door, the gift awaited. Whether it would save his company or doom it further, only time would tell.

    <hr>

    It was 8 a.m., and the world felt like it had flipped on its head.

    Raven, Cinthia, Nieme, Thiago, Katie, Frank, and the entire SFPD were glued to the news broadcast. Some froze mid-bite, their breakfasts forgotten, while others sat in stunned silence, unable to process the chaos unfolding on the screen.

    The footage showed the monster¡ªa hulking, nightmarish figure¡ªleaping straight at the broadcast camera. The feed abruptly cut to static before switching back to the visibly shaken news anchors. Their attempts to downplay the situation were futile, their voices betraying their fear.

    San Francisco had a monster.

    And now, the entire city knew it.

    Raven had given up on patience. She called everyone¡ªHeitor, Blaze, Carmine¡ªbut none of them answered.

    Katie clung to Thiago¡¯s shirt, her small hands trembling as she tugged desperately, her fear written all over her face. Cinthia stood frozen, her hands covering her mouth, trying and failing to mask her shock and dread. Frank remained silent, his expression stone-cold and hardened, though it was clear this was far beyond anything he had anticipated.

    And then there was Nieme. He glanced at the screen, then at the ground. Unlike the others, he seemed oddly composed¡ªeerily calm in the face of the chaos playing out in front of them.

    Raven slammed the phone down on the table, her hands shaking.

    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± she muttered, her voice cracking with frustration and fear. ¡°Why won¡¯t they answer?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re probably¡­¡± Cinthia started but trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

    ¡°They¡¯re fine,¡± Thiago said, though his voice lacked conviction. He knelt to comfort Katie, stroking her hair as she buried her face in his chest. ¡°They¡¯re probably just caught up in the mess out there. They¡¯ll call back.¡±

    Nieme finally spoke, his tone unnervingly measured. ¡°This¡­ isn¡¯t just some gang war or corpo deal gone bad. Maybe they¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Raven snapped, glaring at him. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare finish that sentence.¡±

    Nieme raised his hands in a defensive gesture but didn¡¯t back down. ¡°I¡¯m just saying. Because if the wrong people get involved¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re already involved!¡± Frank barked, his voice cutting through the tension. ¡°Look at the fucking screen! Every corpo and gang in the city is going to jump on this. And if that thing is Vomi, then we¡¯re all fucked unless we move fast.¡±

    ¡°Move fast? To do what?¡± Cinthia asked, her voice rising in panic. ¡°What are we even supposed to do? She¡¯s that thing¡­ that monster¡­ and is tearing through San Francisco like it¡¯s nothing!¡±

    Raven slammed her fists on the table. ¡°Enough! We¡¯re not going to sit here and panic like a bunch of gonks. We¡¯re going to find her.¡±

    ¡°And then what?¡± Frank said, crossing his arms. ¡°If it¡¯s her¡ªif she¡¯s turned into that thing¡ªwhat do you think you¡¯re gonna do? Hug it out?¡±

    Raven stared at him, her jaw clenched. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Frank. But I¡¯ll be damned if I sit here and do nothing while the city burns and my choom might need us.¡±

    Nieme stood up. ¡°She¡¯s right. If there¡¯s even a chance it¡¯s Vomi, we need to find her. We owe her that much.¡±

    Frank sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°Nieme. This is suicide.¡±

    ¡°Look, we settled things, but that doesn''t mean we are son and father.¡±

    Frank sighed. Of course he''d take the stupidest decision.

    Thiago looked down at Katie, who was still trembling in his arms. ¡°You all go,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here and watch Katie. She doesn¡¯t need to see any more of this.¡±

    Raven nodded. ¡°Thank you, Thiago.¡±

    Cinthia hesitated but eventually stepped forward, her hands still shaking. ¡°Okay¡­ okay, I¡¯m in. But we better have a plan, because if we just walk out there without one, we¡¯re dead. Like dead dead."

    ¡°I might have an idea.¡±, Nieme said, again, his odd calmness shining, and it seemed to rub on everyone else, ¡°Frank, can I sue your Netrunning gear?¡±

    ¡°What for?¡±

    ¡°I need to make a call.¡±

 Chapter 32: Crawling in The Dark

    Sasha Yakovleva

    ¡°I don¡¯t get all this secrecy,¡± Sasha muttered from the backseat, stretching her legs out in a deliberate sprawl. ¡°We¡¯re mercs, right? Not corpo spies. What¡¯s with all the cloak-and-dagger nonsense?¡±

    She leaned her head back against the seat, her pink leotard catching the faint glow of Night City¡¯s neon signs as they zipped past the windows. The city¡¯s chaos was as vibrant as ever, and yet here they were, playing hush-hush for some shady job in Heywood. It seemed ironic to her, considering how few secrets stayed buried in NC. Everyone wanted to become a legend, so to actually keep things hidden was¡­ something.

    ¡°Because some people are listening,¡± Falco replied from the driver¡¯s seat, his hand brushing against his mustache before tapping the rearview mirror. ¡°Caution¡¯s free, and you of all people should know better, given who we¡¯re meeting.¡±

    Sasha rolled her eyes. ¡°Relax, Falco. It¡¯s gonna be eeeaaasy,¡± she drawled, her tone so dripping with sarcasm it made Falco grip the steering wheel tighter.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky Maine was looking for a Frontline Netrunner,¡± Falco muttered. ¡°He doesn¡¯t trust people outside of Night City as it is.¡±

    Sasha ignored the jab, stifling a yawn as she lazily watched the cityscape. The same rundown streets and bright billboards, always trying too hard to distract from the grime beneath.

    After a pause, Falco broke the silence, his tone more conversational. ¡°How¡¯s San Francisco these days? Feels like we never get any real updates about it¡ªjust scraps of news that are weeks old.¡±

    The question caught Sasha off guard, her brow furrowing slightly. San Francisco. What could she even say? That it was an over-polluted warzone of corporate greed and rogue science experiments? That she¡¯d seen horrors there that didn¡¯t belong in a Netrunner¡¯s usual scope?

    She gave a casual shrug. ¡°Same as it¡¯s always been. Just a smoggy mess with an overpriced view of the bay. Oh, and they¡¯ve got this weird green haze hanging around now, thanks to the pollution. Real charming.¡±

    ¡°Figures,¡± Falco grunted, his eyes scanning the road. ¡°Shame, though.¡±

    Sasha didn¡¯t respond. Lying was simpler. Cleaner. No need to dredge up the twisted reality of what she¡¯d seen or done in that city. Some truths, she decided, weren¡¯t worth the trouble of sharing.

    Especially when the symbiotes are the elephant in the room.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± Falco said as he parked the van, pulling the handbrake and adjusting the tie on his vest. He gave a quick glance around, his eyes sharp as he checked for any signs they¡¯d been followed. ¡°Alright, girl, time to meet the crew officially.¡±

    ¡°Finally,¡± Sasha muttered, kicking open the van''s sliding door with more force than necessary. She hopped out, letting it slam shut behind her. ¡°And by the way, this van stinks.¡±

    ¡°I wonder why,¡± Falco shot back, lighting a cigarette, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Sasha ignored him, scanning the street. The distinct presence of Valentinos caught her eye. Gang members loitered near bars and cars, their tattoos and flashy gold screaming territory pride. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Isn¡¯t this Tino turf? Are you sure we¡¯re in the right place?¡±

    Falco took a long drag, his expression flat. ¡°Sasha, for the love of anything sacred, shut the fuck up.¡± Despite the bluntness of his words, he leaned casually against the van, the cigarette dangling between his fingers. ¡°Yes, this is Valentino territory. Yes, this is the right place. And yes, I know what I¡¯m doing. Now go to the meeting.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, jeez,¡± Sasha mumbled, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

    The building looked like a run-down garage, though the back rooms housed a bar. A gruff mechanic met her at the entrance, nodding toward a hallway and mumbling directions. She followed the path, weaving through a few tight corridors before entering a dimly lit lounge area.

    There, sprawled across a couch like a king surveying his domain, was Maine.

    Next to him was a naked woman just pulling out of a NetDive. She wore a strange mask that obscured her face, the flicker of neon tech visible beneath its surface. Backup Netrunner? Sasha wondered. Or maybe just someone Maine kept around for flair.

    Her gaze shifted to another figure¡ªanother woman¡ªtowering in size and bulk. She wore a cropped half-jacket and no shirt beneath it, her heavily muscled frame enhanced with visible chrome implants. It was hard not to notice her unapologetically exposed physique, though Sasha quickly decided staring too long might result in a fist to the face.

    Sasha froze for a moment. How many women does Maine have hanging around this place?

    Her eyes flicked to yet another figure¡ªthis one younger. Or¡­ was she? The girl¡¯s skin had an unnatural, pale greenish hue that seemed almost bioluminescent.

    What kind of crew is this?

    Sasha thought, her skepticism mounting. Is this a merc squad or Maine¡¯s excuse for a harem?

    And why was Falco stuck as the designated driver?

    What the hell had she just walked into?

    "Hey, she¡¯s staring too much. Think we scared her?" The youngest of the group giggled, her tone laced with that condescending kind of humor that made Sasha''s eye twitch. "C''mon, choom, no one¡¯s gonna bite you here. Unless we want to, that is."

    ¡°Who the fuck would be scared of you?¡± a guy chimed in from behind the sofa. His hands looked¡­ wrong, almost skeletal, and his posture screamed gonk. ¡°You don¡¯t even use a gun.¡±

    ¡°Well, Pilar, I would if I fucking could!¡± the girl snapped back, clearly ready to throw hands. ¡°But Maine here says I¡¯m better off as a decoy than anything else! Oh, and by the way, when the fuck am I gonna use that Tactician we klepped from those gonk-ass Claws, huh?¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± the towering chrome-laden woman barked, her voice cutting through the bickering like a whip. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for fights, especially over some bullshit we¡¯ve already settled.¡±

    ¡°How nice,¡± the masked woman muttered, barely moving from her spot on the couch. Her tone was smooth but dismissive, her body language relaxed as though she couldn¡¯t be bothered to acknowledge the chaos properly. ¡°Such a professional way to start a meeting.¡±

    ¡°Oh, fuck off,¡± the youngest shot back, flipping her off with zero hesitation before pulling out her phone and scrolling through it like none of this mattered.

    Sasha stood frozen in the same spot, watching what she could only loosely call a conversation.

    It was the kind of dysfunctional exchange that passed as normal in Night City¡ªloud, chaotic, and somehow, still functional.

    Just as anything else, really.

    Maine laughed, his imposing yet approachable presence cutting through the tension in the room. Despite his size, he had an air of camaraderie that softened the chaotic introduction. ¡°Sorry for the mess, kid. First impressions can be a little... rough with this crew. Name¡¯s Maine.¡±

    ¡°The state?¡± Sasha raised an eyebrow, her confusion palpable. ¡°Damn, never thought I¡¯d have an entire state as a crewmate.¡±

    Maine blinked at her, then let out a deep chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s right. So, what about you? You a whole country or just a city?¡±

    ¡°Does Japan count?¡± Sasha tapped her lip in mock thought before cracking a sly grin. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just messing with you, born in Night City. Name¡¯s Sasha Yakovleva. PinKitty on the cyberspace.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± The masked woman spoke up from the couch, her voice low and calm as she finally opened her tired eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve seen that name in the San Francisco database. You¡¯ve got quite the resume. Kiwi.¡± She finished by saying her name.

    Sasha¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Well, nice to meet you, Kiwi. We gotta trade sometime¡ªI¡¯ve got some phenomenal stuff that¡¯ll blow your mind.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Kiwi replied, already closing her eyes again, her tone indifferent but not dismissive.

    ¡°I¡¯m Dorio,¡± the muscular woman said, her voice steady and commanding as she gestured to the weird guy slouched behind the sofa. ¡°That¡¯s Pilar.¡± Then, pointing toward the smaller woman near him, she added, ¡°And Rebecca, his sister.¡±

    ¡°Sup,¡± both siblings said in unison, not bothering to look up from their devices.

    ¡°Just ignore their antics. You¡¯ll get used to them eventually,¡± Dorio muttered, though her grimace said otherwise.

    ¡°Especially Pilar,¡± Kiwi chimed in as she casually got up and started getting dressed, completely unbothered by the lack of privacy.

    Huh. So much for boundaries.

    Pilar flicked his chromed fingers, making the universal ¡°eddies¡± sign. ¡°All I care about is the paycheck, choom. The sooner I can hit up some JoyToys without haggling, the better.¡±

    ¡°Like you¡¯ve got any charm to haggle with,¡± Maine jabbed, a smug grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Fuck off,¡± Pilar retorted, mirroring Rebecca¡¯s earlier gesture without skipping a beat.

    ¡°Can we please focus? Like, maybe talk about what I¡¯m doing here?¡± Sasha cut in, her tone laced with exasperation. Was this banter normal, or were they just being extra to mess with her?

    ¡°I second that,¡± Dorio said, arms crossed. ¡°Let¡¯s get down to business.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°¡­which makes you our frontline, alongside Maine and me.¡±

    ¡°Straightforward,¡± Sasha mused, nodding. ¡°But why take someone like me?¡±

    Kiwi, now dressed, held up a tablet displaying some intel. ¡°As our gigs have gotten riskier, so has the chance of us getting flatlined. Between that, our growing street cred, and the increasing number of gonks coming after us, we needed extra hands. I¡¯m not a NetGunner, and I¡¯m more effective running recon than covering our asses mid-combat.¡± She handed the tablet to Sasha, smirking faintly. ¡°That¡¯s where you come in. Your work in San Francisco got our attention¡ªmuch to Maine¡¯s initial hesitation¡ªand surviving Corpo curfews doesn¡¯t exactly go unnoticed.¡±

    Sasha skimmed the data, relieved to see nothing symbiote-related. Still, she raised an eyebrow. They¡¯d been tracking her even before she¡¯d left Night City. It was clear they had a capable backseat Netrunner, but a field operative was definitely a gap they needed filled. Judging by the way things were structured, Maine and Dorio seemed to carry the heavy lifting while Pilar and Rebecca picked off the leftovers.

    ¡°So basically, you were overloaded with work,¡± Sasha observed, blinking at them. ¡°But why? You don¡¯t seem weak¡ªespecially with all that chrome you¡¯re packing.¡±

    Maine immediately turned to Dorio, glaring. ¡°See? She gets it.¡±

    ¡°And I won¡¯t argue about this again,¡± Dorio said, her voice dripping with finality. ¡°Unless you want to go a month without sex.¡±

    Maine blinked. He then thought about it. Then he made the wise decision to keep his mouth shut.

    ¡°Okay?¡± Sasha muttered, utterly baffled by whatever power dynamic she¡¯d just stumbled into.

    ¡°As Dorio said earlier, you¡¯ll get used to it,¡± Kiwi sighed, looking somehow even more tired than she already appeared, "Hopefully."

    Rebecca stood up, waving her phone. ¡°So, we¡¯ve got a gig that can¡ª¡±

    <hr>

    The crew dynamics were weird, odd, and sometimes downright brain-numbing, but Sasha had to admit¡ªthey worked. And now, she was officially part of the team. Maine had even made it clear that every member got an equal cut from the gigs, no matter how much¡ªor how little¡ªthey contributed.

    Preem.

    She sat at a noodle stand, slurping her meal while waiting for the greenlight on a gig Rebecca had set up. Apparently, that fact alone was enough for the others to brace themselves. Night City buzzed around her, its familiar chaos carrying on as usual. Same streets, same people, same barely-holding-together system that somehow kept this city alive.

    Sasha sighed. As messed up as it was, Night City was still the best place to stack eddies and build a rep. Maybe one day she¡¯d make enough to leave for somewhere quieter. Somewhere that didn¡¯t smell like burning oil and desperation. San Francisco was a nice vacation, but outside of that gig she did there, nothing really paid well¡ª

    Her agent suddenly buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts.

    Yellow light flashed across her eyes. A call.

    Unknown number.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    The PinKitty immediately raised her ICE barriers before doing anything. In this day and age, an unknown number was practically unheard of¡ªespecially for a Netrunner. Sasha wasn¡¯t about to let her guard down. Her Cyberdeck wasn¡¯t top-tier, but it was nothing to scoff at either. Carefully, she managed the call, scanning for hidden programs, daemons, or any sign of an attempted hack.

    Much to her surprise, the caller just¡­ wanted to talk.

    No hidden quickhacks, no lurking programs, not even a trace of Black ICE activation. Whoever they were, they had to be either bold, confident, or hopelessly naive. Maybe all three.

    With a skeptical frown, Sasha decided to take the call.

    ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re Sasha, right?¡±

    The woman''s voice on the other end was desperate¡ªunsettlingly so. It threw Sasha off, but before she could respond, another voice interrupted.

    ¡°Hey, let me do the talking!¡± A male voice, sharper and more composed, took over. ¡°But, yeah, are you Sasha Yakovleva?¡±

    ¡°Depends,¡± Sasha replied, now more cautious but sounding confident. ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡±

    ¡°Nieme Callahan. I¡¯m a choom of Vomi. You worked with her a while back, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Sasha¡¯s eyes narrowed. She remembered that job all too well. Still, something else about this caught her attention¡ªenough to raise her interest fast.

    ¡°Wait¡ªare you calling from San Francisco?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah?¡±

    ¡°How?! Service out there¡¯s a nightmare beyond city limits!¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter right now,¡± another voice cut in. This one was older, authoritative¡ªprobably a cop. ¡°We need a favor from you. And we¡¯ll pay well.¡±

    ¡°...I¡¯m listening.¡±

    ¡°So, here¡¯s the situation: our chooms in deep shit with the corpos. And to make things worse, we have no fucking clue where she is right now,¡± the woman started, her tone brisk as she laid out the problem.

    ¡°But we know what she¡¯s after,¡± the guy from earlier, Nieme, added, clearly trying to map out a plan in his head. ¡°If we can ping the location of our chooms and figure out where Vomi¡¯s headed, we might have a chance to fix this.¡±

    Sasha leaned back, connecting the dots with the limited puzzle pieces she¡¯d been handed. ¡°Okay¡­ but why? What happened to your chooms? And why the obsession with tracking Vomi? Did she piss off the wrong corpos? I mean, the Corpo Kitty¡¯s always been a loose cannon, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°She turned into a fucking monster,¡± another voice interrupted sharply, high-pitched and jittery, like a girl in her early twenties. Energetic. Anxious.

    ¡°She what?¡±

    ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t gonna put it like that¡­¡± Nieme hesitated, his discomfort seeping through the call. ¡°But yeah. The Vomi we knew¡­ she might not exist anymore.¡±

    ¡°To be crystal clear, do you know anything about¡­ symbiotes?¡± the cop asked cautiously, like the words themselves might bite him.

    Sasha frowned. Her mind immediately flashed to the tendrils she¡¯d seen sprouting from Vomi¡¯s back¡ªpredatory, ravenous, and terrifyingly alive. That image had burned itself into her memory long after she¡¯d left San Francisco for Night City. She couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was her fault, at least in part. It was her investigation that led Vomi to integrate that red goo into her body. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Sasha had played a role. Clicking her tongue, she pushed the guilt aside. Vomi needed help, and her chooms were reaching out for it.

    ¡°I do,¡± Sasha replied firmly.

    ¡°A what now?¡± three voices chorused on the other end of the line.

    ¡°Essentially¡­¡± Sasha began with a sigh, already bracing for their reaction, ¡°it¡¯s a biological weapon designed to enhance physical performance without the cyberpsychosis risks that come with cyberware.¡±

    ¡°Well, it didn¡¯t fucking work,¡± the woman muttered, likely pouting.

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Sasha continued, ignoring the interruption. ¡°She must¡¯ve absorbed another one, right? If she¡¯s spiraling, that¡¯s probably why. I came across something called Project Ouroboros in my investigation back then¡ªit hinted at another symbiote. She was already unstable when we¡ª¡±

    ¡°You knew?!¡± the man barked, cutting her off mid-sentence.

    Sasha winced at the accusation, her grip on her noodles tightening. She should¡¯ve expected this. ¡°Yeah, I knew,¡± she admitted, her voice steady. ¡°But don¡¯t start screaming at me like I injected her with it, alright? Vomi made her own choices. I didn¡¯t force anything on her.¡±

    ¡°You could¡¯ve warned someone!¡± the woman snapped.

    ¡°Warn who?¡± Sasha shot back, her tone sharpening. ¡°The corpos? The same gonks who created the symbiote in the first place? Or maybe you¡¯d prefer I ran to some mercs who¡¯d sell her out for eddies? Get real.¡±

    There was silence on the line for a beat, the kind of silence that stretched like a knife poised to strike.

    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± the cop finally said, his tone grave. ¡°If the corpos knew what Vomi was before it went to the news, they¡¯d have dragged her back in chains¡ªor worse. It¡¯s not like we¡¯d have had the power to stop them.¡±

    The woman huffed but said nothing more.

    ¡°Look,¡± Sasha continued, easing her voice back to neutral. ¡°What¡¯s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on how to handle the fallout. You said she¡¯s completely gone, right? No trace of the old Vomi left?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Nieme admitted, sounding almost ashamed. ¡°It¡¯s like she¡¯s¡­ two people. One moment, she¡¯s protecting us, like she always did. The next¡­ she¡¯s a fucking killing machine. Doesn¡¯t even look human anymore.¡±

    ¡°And you want me to track her,¡± Sasha said, already piecing the plan together. ¡°Find out where she¡¯s going, what she¡¯s after, and maybe get her back in one piece if there¡¯s anything left to save.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± the cop replied.

    Sasha leaned back in her chair, her agent muted for a few seconds. This wasn¡¯t going to be easy, not by a long shot.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said after a pause. ¡°But this isn¡¯t a charity. If I¡¯m sticking my neck out for you guys, I expect to get paid. A lot.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you want,¡± the man said. ¡°Just help us.¡±

    Sasha sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. She didn¡¯t like getting involved in other people¡¯s messes¡ªespecially ones this dangerous. But Vomi wasn¡¯t just some random choom. Even if she hadn¡¯t seen her in a few weeks, Sasha couldn¡¯t abandon her completely.

    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, opening her eyes again. ¡°Send me all the deetes you¡¯ve got. Last known locations, sightings, anything. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll send it now,¡± the cop said, relief clear in his voice, ¡°It''s all over the news, so it shouldn''t be hard to get data.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Sasha muttered. ¡°But fair warning¡ªif she really is gone, there might not be anything I can do to save her. You need to be ready for that.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that when the time comes,¡± Nieme replied grimly.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Sasha said, finishing her noodles and tossing the container aside. ¡°Time to see what the hell your monster¡¯s been up to.¡±

    <hr>

    Liu Jinxiu.

    CEO and owner¡ªbut not founder¡ªof Ascendant Innovations. Not that it mattered. The founder would undoubtedly be thrilled to know Jinxiu had struck a deal that could only backfire under the most minuscule of odds. At least, in her estimation.

    Vomi Kurosaki was naive. Almost embarrassingly so. Since the Datacrash, cyberspace had been reduced to private servers filled with secured archives guarded by armies of netrunners¡ªboth physical and digital¡ªand layers of encryption. This meant that any building, whether an office, factory, or residential block, stored surveillance footage safely within the Shallows or private devices. With just a few commands to Ascendant''s skilled netrunners, Jinxiu could pinpoint the "monster" and gather enough evidence to solidify her position in the deal.

    And why hadn¡¯t any of this footage gone public? Simple. When a corporation deploys its security teams to clean up a corporate project, no sane bystander dares to meddle. Loose ends don¡¯t last long under corporate scrutiny.

    Jinxiu grinned, her dark lipstick smudging slightly as she ran her tongue across her lips. The prospect of turning Vomi¡¯s recklessness into leverage thrilled her. The defeat Kaneda would taste when his life¡¯s work fell squarely into Ascendant''s hands? She savored it already. A toast-worthy triumph if there ever was one.

    As she raised a glass of wine to her lips, her terminal pinged with an incoming message.

    Hmm.

    She opened it with casual curiosity. The sender? A netrunner. That alone piqued her interest, but what truly caught her attention was the sender''s location.

    Night City.

    That stopped her mid-sip. Night City? How? The region¡¯s fractured communication systems were infamous, especially when compared to San Francisco¡¯s notorious stranglehold on cyber security. Outside transmissions weren¡¯t impossible but rare enough to be noteworthy.

    Her intrigue deepened. If a netrunner had reached out from Night City, it was worth hearing them out. After all, Ascendant''s Black-ICE was state-of-the-art; any attempt at sabotage or a quick hack would be dead on arrival.

    She read the message.

    "I was hired to track the monster in San Francisco. Word is, you¡¯ve got access to the places I need¡ªspecifically, all the city¡¯s footage."

    Jinxiu leaned back, a smirk curling her lips. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that convenient,¡± she murmured, chuckling softly to herself.

    Jinxiu''s fingers hovered over the terminal, carefully crafting her response. She wasn¡¯t about to give away any leverage or confirm her resources outright¡ªnot yet.

    "And why should I assist you? Night City isn¡¯t exactly known for its altruists. Who are you, and what¡¯s in this for me?"

    She sent the message and leaned back, swirling her wine. The next response came quickly, almost as if the netrunner had been waiting for her reply.

    "I¡¯m PinKitty. I specialize in deep dives and ghost work. Your monster''s trail overlaps with some personal interests of mine, and I¡¯m the best shot you¡¯ve got at tracking her down efficiently. What''s in it for you? Full access to my findings and clean deniability if things go sideways. I¡¯m not in it to screw over corpos¡ªjust to finish the job and get paid."

    Jinxiu arched a brow, intrigued despite herself. A netrunner with confidence and a surprisingly practical pitch. She appreciated someone who got straight to business. Still, trust wasn¡¯t something she gave freely.

    "You¡¯re assuming I care about tracking this so-called ¡®monster,¡¯" Jinxiu typed back. "What makes you think I¡¯d want her found at all?"

    Another quick reply.

    "Because if you didn¡¯t, you wouldn¡¯t have cleaned up half the city¡¯s surveillance archives or sent corporate squads to lock down leads. That kind of noise doesn¡¯t go unnoticed, even from Night City."

    Jinxiu¡¯s smirk widened. Clever little rat. Sasha wasn¡¯t just poking around¡ªshe was paying attention.

    "Fine," Jinxiu typed after a moment, "but if you want my help, I¡¯ll need proof that you can deliver. Start by decrypting this file."

    She attached a heavily encrypted test file¡ªone that only an exceptional netrunner could crack without tripping her security protocols. If Sasha was bluffing, this would expose her. If she wasn¡¯t¡­ well, Jinxiu could always use another useful tool in her arsenal.

    Within minutes, her terminal pinged again.

    "Here¡¯s your file, clean and decrypted. Need me to read it out for you too, or is that enough proof?"

    Jinxiu let out a low, impressed laugh. "Cocky," she muttered, though she couldn''t help but admire the efficiency.

    Typing her next response, she leaned into her calculated gamble.

    "Alright, PinKitty. You¡¯ve got my attention. Let¡¯s talk terms."

    <hr>

    Test subject number¡­ well, it hardly mattered anymore. Graves had stopped keeping track of the numbers hours ago. Too many bodies had come through, and too many had died within minutes of exposure to the serum. He couldn''t let himself care about the faces or names¡ªnot now.

    Black Daggers, local cops, rival gangs, corporations, even desperate civilians¡ªeverybody wanted the same thing: eliminate the symbiote terrorizing the streets. And while chaos erupted outside, the serum was still painfully far from completion. When the latest batch proved to be only 46% effective, Graves didn¡¯t even blink. He barked orders at anyone with working hands¡ªchrome or flesh¡ªto focus every ounce of effort on improving it. M-Tech had thrown every last resource into this single, desperate gamble.

    It was all up to him to make sure the cure was ready before it was too late.

    And yet, doubt gnawed at him.

    Vomi was coming.

    Not just for him, but for anyone even tangentially connected to this twisted conspiracy. She wouldn¡¯t stop until there was nothing left. Graves could feel the noose tightening with each passing moment.

    He cursed under his breath, wishing they¡¯d never ventured beyond the Blackwall. Never uncovered the classified files on the first Klyntar Project. Maybe, just maybe, the Datacrash had been a blessing¡ªa way to bury secrets that were never meant to see the light of day.

    Now those secrets had teeth, claws, and a hunger that wouldn¡¯t be sated.

    What was worse? Cyberpsychosis? Or a bioweapon walking the streets? One was familiar, predictable, even manageable with enough firepower. The other was uncharted, terrifying, and unstoppable.

    The serum was their only hope. The only way to put this nightmare to rest.

    Graves just prayed it wasn¡¯t already too late.

    "Testing v.78.7 of the serum," the lead scientist announced, injecting the syringe with practiced precision.

    The test subject lay restrained on the metal slab, a faintly breathing host to an extremely weak and underdeveloped symbiote. This one barely had enough biomass to manifest any noticeable abilities or aggression, much like the countless other failures that had preceded it. The guards stood ready, their fingers hovering near the triggers of their flamethrowers, prepared to incinerate the subject and chalk it up as yet another failure.

    At first, there was nothing. The subject remained still, the serum coursing through their veins. Then, the convulsions began¡ªviolent, uncontrollable spasms that the team had come to expect with every trial. No one flinched. They had seen this too many times.

    The spasms subsided, and the black, viscous symbiote began spreading over the subject''s body. The guards tensed. All signs pointed to the same conclusion as before: the symbiote was adapting, resisting the serum, and soon it would overwhelm the host entirely.

    But this time, something changed.

    The symbiote began to deteriorate.

    At first, it was subtle¡ªa patch of the black mass receded, leaving behind raw, pale skin. Then more began to unravel, flaking away like ash caught in the wind.

    The guards exchanged wary glances, their flamethrowers still primed but now held with uncertain hands.

    ¡°Wait¡­ hold fire,¡± the lead scientist ordered, his voice sharp and focused as he leaned closer to observe the subject.

    Piece by piece, the symbiote disintegrated, its biomass breaking down entirely under the serum¡¯s influence. For the first time, the room was gripped by silence¡ªnot the silence of another predictable failure, but one filled with cautious hope.

    ¡°Document everything,¡± the scientist muttered, his hands trembling as he scribbled notes. ¡°This¡­ this might actually work.¡±

    Even Graves allowed himself a moment of relief. For the first time, it seemed there might be a solution to this nightmare¡ªan end to the chaos without catastrophic fallout. But the real challenge still loomed: how to deliver the serum to the symbiote host without getting obliterated in the process. Whoever attempted it would need to be fast, resourceful, and, frankly, expendable.

    He rubbed his temples and dialed Miranda, his voice steady but laced with urgency. ¡°We have results,¡± he said simply before explaining the breakthrough.

    Meanwhile, the scientists wasted no time. They immediately began producing a second dose, meticulously documenting every step of the process. There would be no room for error this time. Luckily, this wasn¡¯t intended for mass production¡ªjust a one-time solution tailored for this singular crisis. That singular focus allowed them to prioritize precision over scale, though no one dared to celebrate yet.

    Graves weighed the outcomes in his mind, running through the scenarios.

    Worst case? Vomi and the symbiote were both neutralized¡ªa tragic but acceptable outcome.

    Best case?

    M-Tech would have a blueprint for a new kind of soldier. And that, Graves thought with grim pragmatism, could be worth all of this bloodshed.

    Graves cast a glance at the lifeless body of the man who had delivered the sample¡ªhis final act of defiance in a city drowning in bloodshed. An unsung hero whose sacrifice would be forgotten as quickly as it had happened. His body had been used to test v.30.4 of the serum, and the results were unsettling. The symbiote, even attached to a corpse, began to regenerate the host''s tissue. Was it possible that these things could bring someone back from the dead?

    Questions for later.

    "Here it is, sir," the lead scientist said, handing the latest serum dose to Graves. He took it with a mix of awe and trepidation, holding it as though it were an ancient artifact capable of reshaping the world.

    "Now..." Graves muttered, his thoughts already racing, "who¡¯s going to use this?"

    The options were grim. If anyone stood even a sliver of a chance to get close enough to Vomi to administer the serum, it had to be someone she wouldn¡¯t outright kill. That narrowed the field considerably.

    Reports from the street racer who¡¯d died delivering the sample confirmed that Heitor, one of Vomi''s closest bandmates, had been killed during the extraction. From what Graves could piece together, it was likely an accident¡ªa defensive reflex from Vomi as Heitor approached her with the syringe. A tragedy, but it left some hope that her other bandmates might still be able to reach her.

    Blaze, however, was out of the question. His anger and determination to kill the symbiote outright made him more of a liability than an asset. That left three names: Raven, Nieme, and Thiago.

    Graves weighed his options carefully, but this time, pragmatism alone wouldn¡¯t suffice. Vomi¡¯s condition demanded a personal approach. Efficiency mattered more than corporate detachment.

    He settled on Raven. The fiery, rebellious sister of Cinthia might just have the resolve¡ªand the connection¡ªto do what needed to be done. Besides, finding her number wasn¡¯t a challenge. Vomi¡¯s system had long been under M-Tech¡¯s quiet surveillance, and it didn¡¯t seem like she had cared to stop them. Perhaps she assumed M-Tech would protect her and her friends if she ever asked. Gullible, Graves thought, but not entirely incorrect.

    He tapped the call icon and waited. The line connected almost immediately.

    "Who the hell is this?" Raven¡¯s sharp, irritated voice came through, cutting like a blade.

    Graves smirked. This will be interesting.

 Chapter 33: Becoming Insane

    Tracking Vomi wasn¡¯t the challenge¡ªpredicting her next move was. Instead of waiting for her to strike, every faction in San Francisco seemed intent on hunting her down. The result? A bloodbath that only seemed to escalate. Sasha sifted through the footage she¡¯d gathered, watching the chaos unfold: past, present, and the grim inevitability of what was to come. She couldn¡¯t help but think back to the day Vanguard, the talking cat, had warned her never to reveal their shared secret. At the time, the idea of a cat giving life-or-death advice was absurd. Now? It felt like an omen.

    San Francisco¡¯s newsfeeds were dominated by stories of Vomi, painting her as a monstrous force of destruction. Sasha dug deeper into older footage, tracing the changes in her former partner. The progression was undeniable: Vomi grew weaker and paler while the red symbiote became stronger. The bloodlust, the utter disregard for life¡ªit was increasing with every encounter. Sasha suspected Vomi wasn¡¯t even fully aware of what she was doing anymore, reacting instinctively to external threats, emotions, or, perhaps worst of all, sheer boredom.

    But Vomi¡¯s path of destruction wasn¡¯t the worst discovery.

    Sasha had also reached out to Liu Jinxiu, leveraging her vast surveillance network across San Francisco. Officially, the request was to assist with tracking Vomi. Unofficially, Sasha wanted to check on the rest of The Refused. She needed to confirm who, if anyone, was still alive.

    What she uncovered wasn¡¯t good. And Raven? Raven was going to lose it.

    The problem wasn¡¯t just the news¡ªit was the fact that Raven wouldn¡¯t hang up. She stayed on the line with Sasha, demanding answers, her voice a mix of anger, fear, and desperation. Sasha hesitated, knowing what she had to say would only make things worse.

    ¡°What about them? Where are they?¡± Raven¡¯s voice cracked with desperation. ¡°Please, just tell me they¡¯re alright...¡±

    Sasha exhaled sharply. She couldn¡¯t sugarcoat this. False hope was crueler than the truth. ¡°Raven¡­ I don¡¯t have good news.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Don¡¯t say that,¡± Raven pleaded, her words breaking into muffled sobs.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Nieme muttered before cutting the call off the speaker. ¡°Raven¡¯s not going to handle this. Not now. Look, Sasha, just say it straight to me. We¡¯re all too close to this mess, too close to each other. Maybe not with Heitor or Carmine, but¡­ you get it.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s lips tightened, hesitation flashing across her face even though no one could see it. ¡°Heitor didn¡¯t make it. He was killed at the same spot Vomi was when he injected her with the syringe.¡±

    A long, heavy silence filled the line.

    ¡°...Fuck,¡± Nieme finally whispered.

    And then Sasha heard it: distant screams, cries of disbelief, someone¡ªRaven, most likely¡ªbreaking down completely. The sound of pure anguish cut through her like a blade. It didn¡¯t stop there, though. Sasha¡¯s heart sank further when she caught the faint wailing of a child in the background.

    A kid? There¡¯s a kid in all this? Sasha¡¯s stomach twisted. Nothing about this situation was easy, but this? This made it so much worse.

    ¡°What about¡­ shit¡­ what about Blaze? And Carmine?¡± Nieme finally managed to ask, his voice strained. Sasha guessed he was probably watching Raven unravel completely, judging by the discomfort in his tone.

    Sasha hesitated, knowing how much worse this was going to get. ¡°Blaze was last seen near the gym. But¡­ if the wreckage I¡¯m seeing in the news is what I think it is¡­¡± She paused, trying to soften the blow, but there wasn¡¯t a delicate way to say it. ¡°It looks like he was caught under the debris.¡±

    The line went dead quiet.

    ¡°Blaze¡­?¡± Nieme¡¯s voice cracked, barely audible.

    Before he could spiral, Sasha pressed on. ¡°Carmine was last seen inside the M-Tech building. But that was hours ago¡ªtwo, maybe three. I haven¡¯t been able to find out anything else.¡±

    Silence settled over the call again, heavier this time. It felt like the weight of every loss was pressing down on them all at once. Sasha gritted her teeth, feeling the same helplessness creeping in. Sure, Sasha isn''t close to them, but this is spiraling fast, and they were running out of time to save anyone left standing.

    ¡°Is¡­ is there a way?¡±

    Sasha frowned. ¡°A way to what?¡±

    ¡°To save Vomi,¡± Nieme said, his voice hollow and devoid of emotion. He was clearly trying to push through the immense weight of his feelings, grasping at any sliver of hope. ¡°We can at least save someone.¡±

    Maybe, Sasha thought, though she wasn¡¯t optimistic. M-Tech was reportedly working on a serum, but whether it would work was another matter entirely. And with her being stuck in Night City, there wasn¡¯t much she could do directly.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯ve done everything I can from here,¡± she admitted. ¡°If there¡¯s anything else I can offer, aside from keeping you updated on Vomi¡¯s location, it¡¯s knowing her main target right now.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s fine,¡± Nieme replied, his tone barely above a whisper.

    Sasha winced at the response but continued, ¡°There¡¯s a manufacturer near the harbor district. They¡¯ve got a cluster of factories and facilities¡ªI think you know the one I¡¯m talking about.¡±

    ¡°Ascendant Innovations?¡± Nieme asked, a note of recognition creeping into his voice. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them a few times. They keep a pretty low profile in the media.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Sasha said, even though he couldn¡¯t see her nodding. ¡°There¡¯s a gonk running things there, the head of some big operations. If the gym Vomi hit earlier was the recruitment hub, this place is the supplier. Let¡¯s just put it that way.¡±

    ¡°Supplier?¡± Nieme asked, confused. ¡°You mean like¡­ weapons or cyberware?¡±

    ¡°Cyberdecks, specifically,¡± Sasha clarified as she scrolled through her files. ¡°They¡¯re heavily connected to the Black Daggers. But here¡¯s the thing¡ªif Vomi found out what I¡¯ve pieced together, it wouldn¡¯t just grab her curiosity. It¡¯d make her obsessed.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Nieme sighed. ¡°She¡¯s going after that gonk.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Sasha took a deep breath, knowing the next part wasn¡¯t going to sit well.

    ¡°Because he¡¯s the one who ordered the attack on your warehouse.¡±

    Silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Nieme didn¡¯t respond immediately, but Sasha could hear faint movements on his end of the call. Maybe pacing, or just the sound of Raven quietly sobbing in the background.

    Finally, Nieme spoke, his voice low and strained. ¡°He¡¯s the reason Heitor¡¯s gone? The reason Blaze¡­¡± His words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sasha confirmed, her tone softer now. ¡°And he¡¯s probably the reason Carmine¡¯s stuck at M-Tech, assuming he¡¯s still alive. Everything points to him pulling the strings.¡±

    Another pause. Nieme let out a deep breath, one that carried the weight of grief and simmering anger. ¡°Do you have a name? Or are we just storming a facility blind?¡±

    ¡°My files are from Ascendant,¡± Sasha said simply, her eyes scanning through the data, blueprints flickering across her screen. ¡°Blindness? Cured with optics. Unknown territory and Netrunners? Solved. They¡¯ve made sure there are no gaps.¡±

    ¡°Good to know,¡± Nieme replied flatly.

    ¡°Here,¡± Sasha continued, forwarding a file. ¡°I¡¯m sending you the location. Vomi¡¯s going there¡ªI¡¯m sure of it. What you plan to do when you arrive, though? That¡¯s up to you. For all I know, she could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kill us too. Yes, I¡¯m aware,¡± Nieme cut her off sharply, his irritation clear. ¡°Look, thanks for everything, Sasha. We¡¯ll arrange your payment.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Sasha interjected, surprised. ¡°Are you sure? I can still keep you updated on¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Nieme interrupted, his tone cold and final. ¡°Raven got a call.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°From who?¡±

    ¡°M-Tech.¡±

    <hr>

    Raven answered the call, her voice trembling with the weight of her anger and sorrow. Cinthia stood nearby, silently watching as Raven¡¯s dark mascara streaked down her face, a messy mix of tears and sweat born from raw fury.

    ¡°Who the hell is this?¡± Raven demanded, her voice breaking between sobs and sharp sniffs.

    ¡°I believe we¡¯ve never met,¡± came the calm, calculated reply from the other end.

    ¡°No shit, Sherlock,¡± Raven snapped, wiping her face in a futile attempt to regain composure.

    ¡°I am Graves. I represent M-Tech.¡±

    The name alone froze Raven mid-motion. Cinthia noticed immediately, the emotional shift as Raven¡¯s grief drained into something sharper, colder¡ªhatred.

    ¡°You,¡± she spat, her voice dripping with venom. ¡°Give me one reason not to hang up right now.¡±

    Graves didn¡¯t flinch at her hostility.

    ¡°Carmine delivered us the biomass,¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°Thanks to him, we¡¯ve been able to develop a serum that could help your¡­ choom.¡± He hesitated, the word sounding foreign, uncomfortable, as it left his mouth.

    Friendship wasn¡¯t exactly a concept that thrived in the corporate world, after all.

    ¡°Carmine,¡± Raven repeated, her voice low but laced with sharp anger. She noticed how cold and detached the name sounded when it came from Graves, like it held no weight to him. ¡°Has he been disposed of as well?¡±

    ¡°Naturally,¡± Graves responded without hesitation, his tone devoid of remorse or pretense.

    Raven¡¯s jaw tightened as her knuckles turned white. ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to care about anything you say because¡­?¡±

    Graves sighed, dropping the corporate facade for a moment. ¡°Because, whether by luck or misfortune, your little group might be the only chance this city has to avoid falling into absolute chaos¡ªor worse, having Arasaka step in to clean up the mess.¡± His tone grew serious, his words sharper. ¡°None of this should¡¯ve happened. Not the media coverage, not the exposure of our projects, not the public learning about the symbiotes. Nothing.¡±

    ¡°And the deaths,¡± Raven shot back, her voice a dangerous growl, as much a demand as a statement.

    ¡°Details,¡± Graves replied with maddening indifference. ¡°The point is, you¡¯re likely the only person who can get close to Vomi without being killed outright.¡±

    ¡°And why the hell should I help you?¡± Raven snapped, her emotions bubbling over into fiery rage. ¡°Why should I believe anything you¡¯re saying? What¡¯s in it for me? I don¡¯t trust a single word out of your mouth! For all I know, this is a setup¡ªyou¡¯ll send me to my death, my choom¡¯s death, or worse. Maybe you want me to deliver her right to your doorstep, only for you to kill us both and call it a day!¡±

    Graves paused, his calm demeanor unwavering. ¡°You¡¯re right not to trust me,¡± he admitted, his voice low but firm. ¡°In your position, I wouldn¡¯t either. But trust isn¡¯t what I¡¯m asking for. I¡¯m asking for action¡ªbecause if we do nothing, everyone dies. Including Vomi.¡±

    Raven gritted her teeth, her grip on the phone tightening as she paced the room. ¡°You¡¯re real good at dodging the point. Why does M-Tech even care if she dies? You¡¯ve already killed Carmine. What¡¯s stopping you from just waiting this out, letting her burn herself out, and swooping in to clean up the aftermath?¡±

    Graves chuckled dryly, the sound cold and calculated. ¡°Because waiting isn¡¯t an option. Vomi is evolving. Every second we hesitate, the symbiote becomes stronger, smarter, harder to contain. If we wait until she burns out, the collateral damage will leave this city in ruins. And if it gets beyond San Francisco? Arasaka or Militech will see to it that neither you nor anyone else has the luxury of surviving this.¡±

    Raven stopped pacing, her breathing heavy as her mind churned. He wasn¡¯t lying, at least not entirely. She could feel it in his tone¡ªthe urgency, the desperation he was trying to mask with professionalism.

    ¡°And the serum,¡± she said at last, her voice quieter now but still edged with venom. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you have a cure for her. A way to stop this without killing her.¡±

    Graves nodded, as if she could see him through the agent. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s experimental, and it¡¯s far from perfect. But it¡¯s the only chance she has¡ªand the only chance this city has. Without it, she¡¯s already dead. And so are the rest of us.¡±

    Raven swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to Cinthia, who was watching silently, her eyes wide with concern. ¡°Why me?¡± she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. ¡°Out of everyone you could send to deliver this, why the hell do you think I¡¯m the one who can pull it off?¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± Graves said simply, ¡°she won¡¯t see you as a threat. You¡¯re not just some random bystander or hired gun¡ªyou¡¯re someone she knows, someone she cares about. That gives you an advantage no one else has. It¡¯s risky, sure, but it¡¯s the best option we¡¯ve got.¡±

    Raven hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. The thought of facing Vomi¡ªher friend, her bandmate, her choom¡ªin her current state was terrifying. But the alternative was even worse.

    Cinthia finally spoke, her voice soft but resolute. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this, Raven. We¡¯ll figure something out. Together.¡±

    Raven shook her head, her decision already forming in her mind. ¡°No. If this is the only way to save her¡­ I have to try.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Graves¡¯s voice cut through the moment like a blade. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll send you the details. And Raven¡ªdon¡¯t screw this up. There¡¯s no second chance.¡±

    The call ended, leaving Raven standing in silence, her agent still shining in her eyes. She turned to Cinthia, her expression a mix of fear and determination.

    ¡°Thanks, Sasha, but I need to go,¡± Nieme said, ending the call. He turned to Raven. ¡°I got some tidbits, but we¡¯re going after Vomi, right?¡±

    ¡°This is suicide,¡± Frank warned again, leaning over his cluttered desk, which was covered in reports of monster sightings. ¡°I can¡¯t back you up, and the PD won¡¯t either. Think long and hard before any of you make a stupid decision.¡±

    Thiago, who had been sitting quietly nearby, tending to Katie, finally spoke. ¡°Frank¡¯s right. It¡¯s a terrible idea to leave the PD. Especially now.¡±

    ¡°At least someone¡¯s thinking straight,¡± Frank said with a sigh of relief.

    Raven¡¯s eyes swept across the room. The only two willing to join her were her sister and Nieme, her longtime choom. She couldn¡¯t really blame Thiago for wanting to stay behind. His daughter had almost lost him twice in one day, and it was clear he wanted to protect her above all else. Still, a small part of Raven felt let down¡ªhe¡¯d been so eager to help before.

    ¡°What did Graves say?¡± Nieme pressed, ignoring his father¡¯s scolding.

    ¡°He¡¯s sending details. They¡¯ve made a serum, thanks to Carmine, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead, isn¡¯t he?¡± Cinthia interrupted, the realization dawning in her voice.

    Raven¡¯s silence answered the question.

    ¡°Shit¡­ So it¡¯s just us?¡± Nieme muttered, shaking his head. ¡°God damn it¡­¡±

    ¡°Is the serum even going to work?¡± Cinthia asked as she stuffed a few weapons into a nearby gym bag. It wasn¡¯t hers, but no one would complain¡ªnot when they were the only ones trying to face the symbiote head-on.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Raven admitted, her voice heavy. ¡°But it¡¯s all we¡¯ve got. It¡¯s do or die.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope we don¡¯t die, then,¡± Cinthia replied grimly.

    Frank pushed away from his desk in frustration, standing abruptly. ¡°Ah, fuck this. If I can¡¯t stop you idiots, the least I can do is make sure you don¡¯t walk into this unarmed.¡±

    He stormed off toward the back of the PD, heading straight for the armory. Moments later, he returned with an arsenal¡ªsubmachine guns, assault rifles, and boxes of ammo¡ªdumping it all unceremoniously onto his desk. Other officers nearby exchanged glances, muttering among themselves, but no one stepped in to stop him.

    Except one.

    The commissary, a stern-faced man with a reputation for not tolerating breaches of protocol, approached Frank, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. ¡°You know I can¡¯t let this slide,¡± he said, his tone heavy with authority. ¡°Supplying civilians with weapons? From the armory? That¡¯s crossing the line.¡±

    He tolerated the civilians sleeping on the PD, since that''s unavoidable, even more with the constant shootings and, well, the symbiote, as well as the fact that Nieme and Co. are relatives to Frank. But guns? From the Police Armory? That''s too much to ask.

    Frank straightened up, meeting the commissary¡¯s glare without flinching. ¡°Crossing the line? You¡¯ve seen what¡¯s out there. You know damn well this isn¡¯t just some turf war or corpo dispute¡ªit¡¯s a goddamn nightmare. If they¡¯re walking into this, I¡¯m making sure they¡¯ve got a fighting chance.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not officers,¡± the commissary countered, his voice low and stern. ¡°And this is a police armory, not some free-for-all.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the only ones willing to do something,¡± Frank shot back, his voice rising. ¡°What¡¯s your plan? Wait for backup? Wait for the corps to clean this up? We both know no one¡¯s coming to save us.¡±

    The room grew tense. Officers whispered among themselves, but no one dared to step between the two men.

    Raven, not one to sit back while others argued, stepped forward. ¡°Listen,¡± she said, her voice sharp and unwavering. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. You wanna lecture us? Fine, but do it after we stop her. Right now, we need the iron.¡±

    The commissary turned to her, narrowing his eyes. ¡°And what makes you think you can stop her? You¡¯ve seen what she¡¯s capable of. This isn¡¯t bravery¡ªit¡¯s suicide.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s suicide if we do nothing,¡± Nieme interjected, standing beside Raven. ¡°She¡¯s not just going to stop, and you know it. We have to try.¡±

    The commissary¡¯s jaw tightened. He looked between them, then back at Frank, whose expression was set with defiance. After a long pause, he sighed, stepping back.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he said begrudgingly. ¡°Take what you need. But if this goes sideways, it¡¯s on you, Frank.¡±

    ¡°It was always on me,¡± Frank replied, already packing the weapons into bags.

    Raven glanced at Nieme and Cinthia, giving a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡±

    As they finished gearing up, Thiago stood, his daughter clinging to his leg. ¡°Wait,¡± he said, his voice conflicted.

    Everyone turned to look at him.

    ¡°I¡­¡± He hesitated, looking down at Katie. Her wide, tear-filled eyes made it clear she didn¡¯t want him to go. But then he looked back at the group, at the friends who were risking everything.

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave her,¡± he finally said, his voice heavy with regret. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Raven gave him a small nod, her expression softening. ¡°We get it, Thiago. Stay safe. Take care of her.¡±

    ¡°Good luck,¡± he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    With that, Raven, Nieme, and Cinthia left the PD, their bags brimming with weapons and their resolve like steel. The streets outside were eerily quiet, the silence pressing down on them as if the city itself was holding its breath. It was a fleeting calm before the chaos waiting ahead.

    ¡°Let¡¯s end this,¡± Raven muttered, her knuckles white as she gripped her rifle.

    <hr>

    ¡°Sir, I know these are desperate times¡­¡± the advisor began, his voice cautious as his eyes locked onto the warhead looming before them. ¡°But are you absolutely sure this is the best course of action?¡±

    Kaneda stood still, his gaze fixed on the device. His expression betrayed no hesitation, only grim determination. ¡°It¡¯s a last resort,¡± he said with quiet conviction.

    Despite Kaneda¡¯s assured tone, the advisor¡¯s unease only deepened. He glanced at the glowing console monitoring the warhead¡¯s status, his stomach knotting. ¡°If this goes wrong¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nothing else has worked,¡± Kaneda interrupted sharply, turning to face the advisor with a cold, unwavering gaze. ¡°This isn¡¯t about whether it¡¯s the best course of action. It¡¯s the only course we have left.¡±

    The advisor hesitated, his throat tightening before he finally spoke. ¡°I¡­ unfortunately agree. Better to scorch the entire city than risk an epidemic disaster spreading beyond control.¡±

    His words hung heavy in the air, the gravity of their decision suffocating. Kaneda didn¡¯t respond immediately, his eyes drifting back to the warhead, as if silently steeling himself for what was to come.

    Then came a call.

    ¡°Jinxiu,¡± Kaneda said flatly, his voice void of pleasantries.

    ¡°You¡¯re fortunate, I¡¯ll give you that,¡± she replied, her Chinese accent sharpening as irritation seeped into her tone. ¡°I¡¯ll be reaching out to support the group heading for the symbiote. With luck, this won¡¯t turn into a total catastrophe for KanedaCorp¡ªor should I say, future AscendantCorp.¡±

    ¡°Hilarious,¡± Kaneda deadpanned, his tone as dry as a desert. ¡°You sound disappointed.¡±

    ¡°Barely,¡± Jinxiu scoffed. ¡°It¡¯ll still benefit me, though not as much as I¡¯d hoped.¡±

    ¡°How enlightening,¡± Kaneda replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. ¡°Did you call just to gloat?¡±

    ¡°No, though that would¡¯ve been entertaining. I actually have good news.¡± Jinxiu¡¯s expression shifted slightly, her lips curving into what might have been a frown. ¡°M-Tech is assisting Vomi¡¯s associates. As I mentioned earlier, I¡¯ll be aiding them as well.¡±

    ¡°And this matters because?¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± she said, exhaling slowly, ¡°

    Kaneda grunted, a rare sound of approval. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ promising. It means my work won¡¯t be lost.¡±

    ¡°Not entirely,¡± Jinxiu corrected. ¡°The serum M-Tech developed is lethal to the symbiote, but its biological adaptability has proven exceptionally resilient. It¡¯s unlikely to be a clean kill.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re planning to kill it?¡±

    ¡°Can you blame them?¡± Jinxiu¡¯s tone grew bored. ¡°The experiment, orchestrated by three corporations, led to one of the most catastrophic outcomes in recent history. This is either a warning to avoid such experiments in the future or a blueprint to try again¡ªbut more effectively next time.¡±

    ¡°As if humanity learned anything after the Fourth Corporate War,¡± Kaneda chuckled darkly. ¡°People are both stupid and stubborn.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t exclude yourself, Kaneda,¡± Jinxiu said, her lips curling into a faint smirk. ¡°Your research is what sparked this holocaust in the first place.¡±

    Kaneda bristled but forced himself to stay composed. She wasn¡¯t wrong, but admitting fault was something Kaneda would never do.

    ¡°I have constant updates on the symbiote¡¯s location. If nothing else, the planning should be simple¡ªeven if the execution won¡¯t be,¡± Jinxiu said after a pause. ¡°For now, all we can do is wait.¡±

    Kaneda¡¯s eyes flicked to the warhead in front of him, its activation command loaded into his agent. If the worst-case scenario unfolded, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate.

    ¡°So long, then.¡±

    The call ended abruptly.

    The advisor stood nearby, unable to piece together the full scope of the conversation but acutely aware of its implications. The warhead¡¯s detonation was no longer an idle threat. It loomed as a final contingency¡ªwise or reckless, it didn¡¯t matter.

    <hr>

    How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? The symbiote couldn¡¯t tell. Time blurred amid the endless carnage, a haze of violence and survival. It had fought, killed, ripped, and torn through anything and everything that posed a threat. Black Daggers, M-Tech agents, KanedaCorp forces, minor gangs, the police, and even civilians¡ªit didn¡¯t discriminate.

    The Black Daggers¡¯ presence was waning, their numbers scattered or obliterated, but they weren¡¯t the only threat. New enemies emerged to fill the void, each one testing the symbiote¡¯s limits.

    Through it all, it adapted. It consumed when necessary, evolving its biomass to withstand the ceaseless assault. It fought relentlessly, each kill an act of survival, but even with its regenerative capabilities, it couldn¡¯t ignore the toll.

    Physically drained and mentally frayed, the symbiote finally sought refuge. It found shelter in the skeletal remains of a half-destroyed building, its structure battered by explosives meant to end its existence. For now, it was a sanctuary¡ªa brief reprieve before the next wave of enemies came.

    The symbiote had the biomass to keep going. It had the will. But for now, it needed to rest.

    ¡°Our next step should target the project¡¯s owners,¡± the bloodthirsty voice growled, already shaping a plan. ¡°Rest for now. We¡¯ll decide the details later.¡±

    A quiet, detached voice hummed in agreement. ¡°They turned the vessel¡¯s friends against us¡ªnot all of them, but enough. The owners need to pay. Only then can we evolve further.¡±

    The distant, calculated voice offered a new angle. ¡°Perhaps. But they¡¯ll be seeking refuge, fortifying themselves. Pursuing them now wastes effort. We should minimize our presence, adapt, grow stronger¡­ then strike.¡±

    Vomi, lost amid the chorus of voices, felt the symbiote retract slowly across her body. The purple biomass retreated, shielding only the essential parts of her form. Her clothes were shredded, destroyed during the chaos, leaving her nearly bare. It didn¡¯t matter. Rest was paramount¡ªwars weren¡¯t won by the exhausted.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she muttered, her face finally free from the symbiote¡¯s hold. She exhaled sharply, her voice cutting through the noise in her mind. ¡°I need silence.¡±

    The voices quieted, though their presence lingered in the back of her mind like faint whispers, a reminder that they were always there¡ªwatching, waiting, scheming. For now, they obeyed.

    Vomi leaned against the crumbling wall of the ruined building, her breath ragged. Her vision blurred at the edges, a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline dulling her senses. The city outside was quiet, an unnatural stillness after the cacophony of battle. Fires still burned in the distance, their glow casting flickering shadows over her makeshift shelter.

    She closed her eyes, her body trembling as she fought to steady herself. The symbiote coursed through her veins, repairing damage, mending fractures, yet it could do nothing for the emotional weight crushing her. For a moment, she allowed herself to think of her friends¡ªtheir faces, their laughter, their fear.

    Heitor is gone.

    Carmine betrayed us.

    They¡¯re all gone¡­ or against us now.

    Her fists clenched, the goo creeping up her arms in response to her rising anger. She slammed a hand against the wall, leaving behind a faint purple stain as the symbiote rippled with agitation. Vomi only tried to protect them, and yet they turned. They forced her hand, forced her actions. They did it. And yet all she can think, all she can rationalize is that she still needs to protect them, even if they don''t want it.

    ¡°No,¡± she hissed to herself, her voice low and resolute. ¡°I can¡¯t stop now.¡±

    The voices stirred faintly but did not interrupt.

    A noise outside caught her attention¡ªa faint shuffle, too deliberate to be the wind. Her senses sharpened immediately, her exhaustion buried under a surge of instinctive alertness. She crouched low, the symbiote beginning to cover her limbs once more, preparing for another fight.

    The sound grew closer, accompanied by whispers.

    ¡°The monster''s in there,¡± a voice muttered.

    Vomi¡¯s eyes narrowed, the purple goo fully enveloping her again. She wouldn¡¯t run. She wouldn¡¯t hide.

    The whispers turned to commands. Footsteps drew near.

    They had found her.

    Five targets. Armed. Inadequate firepower.

    The symbiote crouched low, instincts flaring as it assessed the group. Movements sharp, deliberate, scanning for hidden threats¡ªsnipers, traps, anyone lying in wait to strike from a distance. Nothing. The ruined structure offered no vantage points for long-range shooters. It was a confined space. Advantage: us.

    Its focus shifted to the leader. Shotgun. Hands trembling, grip unsteady, but the weapon was aimed and ready. A threat. Not insurmountable, but enough to warrant caution. The others were less concerning¡ªsmaller firearms, loose postures.

    Weak. Still dangerous if we underestimate them.

    One of them broke the silence. ¡°This room is clear,¡± he muttered, his voice shaky but low.

    Behind him, another asked, hesitant, ¡°Do we spread around?¡±

    ¡°No. Stick together,¡± the leader replied. ¡°If anything, the monster will try to split us apart, flatline us one by one.¡±

    He was smart. Frustratingly so.

    The symbiote¡¯s body coiled, tension building like a drawn bowstring. Its instincts screamed to act, to strike now while they were unaware. But not yet. Not yet.

    Wait. Watch.

    Weak link¡­ find it¡­ break it.

    Their heartbeats were loud¡ªthumping, irregular. Fear. It could almost taste it, a faint electric pulse in the air. The leader was keeping them together, but that resolve was thin, stretched like glass about to shatter.

    The symbiote adjusted its position silently, shifting into the shadows. Each movement was fluid, calculated. The walls, crumbled and jagged, provided cover. Its instincts sharpened, narrowing in on the weakest of the five¡ªthe one near the back, clutching his pistol too tightly.

    Isolate. Strike. Consume.

    But the leader¡¯s voice rang out again, halting its advance. ¡°Eyes up. Don¡¯t lose focus. It¡¯s here somewhere.¡±

    The symbiote seethed, a low growl escaping through Vomi¡¯s clenched teeth before it faded into silence. The prey was too alert. It would have to wait for their nerves to falter. For one mistake.

    And then?

    Rip. Tear. Feed.

    The group waked forward, slow and cautious. The symbiote¡¯s senses buzzed, looking for the slightest lapse in concentration. Every sound, every heartbeat, all amplified by its heightened senses. It could taste the fear that hanged in the air.

    They are weak.

    The leader walked first, trying to appear confident as his eyes darted around. He was smart, no doubt, even more when he had some strategy to take on the monstrosity he was about to face. But there was that thing. That stance. Uncertainty. Weakness.

    The back one. Scared. Slow. Dies first.

    The symbiote¡¯s eyes arrowed to the man in the back. Eyes wide. Fingers trembling around his pistol. An obvious liability, a dent on the chain. He couldn''t be trusted to survive long. The others were useful, trying to cover any open spaces on their field of view. They would be dealt with time, no need to rush. But the back one? The first to fall. A mistake was coming.

    Wait. Let them grow impatient. Then strike.

    The symbiote''s body cloaked in the darkness, the dark goo allowing for great camouflage, even in daytime. It''s tendrils curled, they flexed, anxious for food. Hunger. The others talked, instructed, informed. They knew how to operate in situations like this, but they didn''t know.

    Isolate? Strike?

    Then, the symbiote''s pulse quickened, no more waiting. One move, quick and clean, a single slit on the throat. A single lunge, so fast that the victim didn''t even had time to scream, the tendrils enveloping the man, bringing to the symbiote.

    Then silence.

    Silence.

    ¡°What the¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Where''s Kyle?¡±

    ¡°Kyle? Don''t joke around, gonk!¡±

    ¡°Shh! Shut up!¡±, The leader hushed their talk, trying to listen closely for any movement.

    A wet, guttural sound. A faint sound, but audible. Munching? Chewing? Sounded like it. They looked up, only to find ¡°Kyle¡± already half consumed, blood dripping from the ceiling.

    The others froze.

    Now.

    The symbiote, dripping from its meal, covered the area with it''s tendrils, throwing around like a grenade exploding, hitting the entire group all at once. The leader managed to dodge by taking cover on a wall. He even aimed the shotgun at the symbiote¡¯s face. He is trying to fight.

    Foolish.

    The shotgun was raised, yes, but his hands shook too much.

    Weak.

    Rip. Tear. Consume.

    They stuck again, pushing the gun away and grabbing the man by the throat, slamming him on the wall. It was painted with red immediately, the other members staring in horror as the, supposedly, most prepared man, died in a matter of seconds. The symbiote, still with a hold on the body, slowly drained the meat, consuming the man, biomass helping even more them to regenerate, to rest.

    The remaining three scattered, but it didn''t matter.

    Chase. Kill. Feed.

    One tendril met the first, piercing it''s skull. The other one had a pike made of metal on its chest, thrown by the symbiote. The last one backed off to a wall, pleading for mercy, babbling something about family, friends, even eddies. The symbiote didn''t care, nor it was listening. It only put a hand on his shoulder and started consuming when the victim was still alive. The screams of pain filling the building with death, agonizing death.

    It let out a soft hiss, seemingly content with the results of the hunt. The symbiote retracted again, allowing Vomi to emerge. They didn''t need victory cries or a parade right now, merely rest. And a place where they''d be allowed to stay inside and uninterrupted. Hunger. Survival. Death.

    Evolve. Transcend.

    Vomi stared at ¡°her¡± hands.

    ¡°We wonder¡­ how long until they see it''s futile to kill us.¡±, Vomi muttered, staring at San Francisco through the holes of the building.

    It was already¡­ what, maybe 11 AM?

    ¡°They will never stop. That means we need to have allies. People we can control.¡±, One of the voices said, contemplative, yet whispering.

    ¡°Something that won''t turn on us.¡±, The bloodthirsty voice said, a faint idea forming.

    ¡°Offspring.¡±, The last voice said, decisive and cold, ¡°That''s easy to control.¡±

    ¡°Understandable.¡±, Vomi said aloud, nodding to herself.

    She jumped down, dropping to street level.

    The future, somehow, looked even darker.

 Chapter 34: Do The Evolution

    Vomi''s Colby was the only tangible reminder of her humanity. The matte black car, still parked deep in Black Dagger turf, had been retrieved by a solo Raven hired. Now, it carried three people either insane or desperate enough to face the monster she¡¯d become. Loaded with weapons, the car roared down the street, carrying a fragile hope: that it wouldn¡¯t end with them having to kill their choom.

    Their first stop was with M-Tech. The corporation had reached out, claiming they had the serum ready.

    Raven stepped out of the car reluctantly, shotgun in hand. She approached a man standing by the curb, sharp and polished, holding a vial that glowed faintly.

    ¡°I assume you¡¯re Graves?¡± she asked, her grip on the shotgun tight, her eyes scanning for any surprises.

    ¡°Here,¡± the man said curtly, handing her the serum without addressing her question.

    Raven studied the vial. ¡°Is this going to work?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the only dose we have,¡± Graves replied, his gaze steady. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t¡­ well, let¡¯s just say there won¡¯t be a next step.¡±

    His attention shifted to another suited figure approaching with a briefcase. The stranger opened it to reveal rows of compact explosives, their casing marked with strange white designs.

    ¡°These are incendiary. Fire damages the symbiote significantly. Take them.¡±

    Raven¡¯s jaw tightened as she raised her hand in refusal. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m not flatlining her.¡±

    Graves didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°If the symbiote doesn¡¯t respond to the serum, you¡¯ll have no choice. Better safe than sorry.¡±

    The weight of the street seemed to press in. Civilians gathered nearby, their arguments rising above the din of the city. Some demanded the symbiote be destroyed; others just wanted the meeting to end. Their eyes burned with fear, frustration, and morbid curiosity.

    Raven sighed, grabbing the briefcase¡¯s handle and tossing it back toward the car.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t throw explosives at me like that!¡± Nieme protested from the passenger seat, scrambling to catch it.

    ¡°They¡¯re not armed, you gonk,¡± Raven snapped, rolling her eyes as she climbed back into the Colby.

    The suits lingered for a moment, then left without another word. The car sped off, leaving the restless crowd behind.

    ¡°She¡¯s in Silicon Valley,¡± Cinthia said, her voice quiet as she glanced at the tracker on her dashboard.

    ¡°Building or streets?¡± Nieme asked, securing the briefcase in the back.

    ¡°Building. She hasn¡¯t moved for a while.¡±

    Cinthia hit the gas, tires screeching as the Colby lurched forward.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the plan?¡± Nieme asked, glancing at Raven.

    Raven let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through her hair. ¡°A plan? You think I have a plan? I can¡¯t even organize my damn thoughts right now.¡±

    All they had was the serum, a case of explosives, and a faint hope that Vomi could still be saved. It was far from an ideal situation¡ªcloser to a desperate gamble than any kind of solid plan. A "plan" felt like a flimsy concept now, more of a faint outline than a concrete step-by-step. None of them had ever faced anything remotely like this. Raven, usually the most dependable to take charge, was at a loss. How do you prepare to fight a monster? She was a singer in a barely-known band, not a MaxTac operative hunting Cyberpsychos.

    ¡°Hey, sis, calm down, okay?¡± Cinthia¡¯s voice broke through Raven¡¯s spiraling thoughts. She glanced over, noticing how close Raven seemed to breaking under the pressure. ¡°We¡¯re here. And you¡¯re capable of figuring this out, yeah? I believe in you. Just breathe with me for a second.¡±

    Raven swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she responded, ¡°Don¡¯t treat me like a kid.¡±

    Cinthia exhaled, relieved to hear even that weak protest. ¡°Everyone needs to be treated like a brat sometimes,¡± she teased, flashing her sister a small grin.

    ¡°Fuck off,¡± Raven muttered, laughing through her tears. The release helped, if only a little. ¡°Alright, what¡¯ve we got?¡±

    Nieme twisted around in his seat, taking stock of their gear in the back. ¡°A lot of iron and bullets, a few PEM grenades, those fancy explosives from M-Tech, and some vests we snagged from the PD.¡± He paused, rifling through a bag. ¡°...And three shots for a Contagion Launcher.¡±

    ¡°Area-of-effect?¡± Cinthia asked, glancing back briefly.

    ¡°Yup,¡± Nieme confirmed, giving her a thumbs-up.

    ¡°Anything Netrunner-related?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Nieme replied with a thumbs down.

    Raven sighed, leaning back in her seat. ¡°So, old-school, then. We¡¯ll figure it out as we go.¡±

    ¡°How reassuring,¡± Cinthia muttered as she took a sharp corner at speed.

    ¡°Just how we like it, apparently,¡± Nieme added with a smirk.

    Silicon Valley had become a shadow of its former self, the second tallest district in San Francisco after the corporations reshaped the city. Vomi was somewhere in one of its towering ruins, unmoving for reasons unknown. If she wasn¡¯t moving, it gave them a slim chance¡ªmaybe they could talk to her, if she was willing to listen.

    The streets were eerily desolate, like the aftermath of a warzone. Cars lay abandoned and overturned, splattered blood stained the walls, and the acrid scent of burnt furniture lingered in the air. There wasn¡¯t a single soul in sight¡ªno survivors, no bystanders, nothing. Only the three of them ventured into the ghost town, their tension rising with every step.

    Each of them grabbed a vest, a gun, and one of the Contagion Launchers. They couldn¡¯t afford to be careless; preparation was the only thing standing between them and certain death.

    Raven hesitated as she adjusted her gear. She didn¡¯t want to appear like a threat, but going unarmed could cost her life.

    ¡°She¡¯s in there,¡± Cinthia said, pointing toward the tallest building in the area¡ªa battered HzBleet office tower.

    ¡°The video game company?¡± Nieme asked, scratching his head. ¡°Why here of all places?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Raven said, attempting a confident nod. ¡°Who¡¯d expect a monster to hide in a video game company¡¯s building?¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± Nieme murmured, the logic oddly landing.

    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ not waste time,¡± Cinthia said, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound firm.

    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± Raven echoed, her tone betraying a similar unease.

    Nieme glanced between the two sisters, noticing the cracks in their composure. Cinthia¡¯s nerves were fraying faster than Raven¡¯s, but both were clearly shaken. The gravity of what they were about to face was hitting them harder than they wanted to admit.

    Inside, the elevators were out of service. Not surprising, but curious¡ªeverything else electronic in the building seemed to work fine. Likely, the elevators were damaged, not powered down. No matter. The staircase beside them was still accessible, so they pressed on.

    Every floor they passed, every closed or slightly ajar door, ratcheted up their tension. Every sound, whether a distant creak or their own footsteps, had them expecting something to leap out at them. But nothing did.

    Finally, they reached the top floor. The tracker confirmed it¡ªthis was where Vomi was. They paused outside the final door, catching their breath. Then, with a shared nod, they opened it.

    It was like stepping into a nightmare.

    The walls, ceiling, and floor were coated in a pulsating black biomass, alive in ways they couldn¡¯t fully comprehend. The surface undulated and glistened, sticky yet liquid. Patches glowed faintly, while others exhaled spore clouds, a sickly, poisonous haze that made their skin prickle.

    All of it was connected¡ªfunneling, twisting, and weaving toward a single room.

    Nieme noticed it first. His eyes followed the thickest tendrils of the biomass to their origin. "It''s all coming from there," he muttered, stepping forward to lead the way.

    The door to the room stood open, and the biomass had swallowed what had once been the elevator entrance¡ªexplaining why it was out of commission.

    And there, in the heart of it all, seated like a queen on her grotesque throne, was Vomi.

    She was unrecognizable.

    Her body was completely enveloped by the symbiote, a seamless, skintight armor that left no detail of her form to the imagination. Only her hair remained uncovered, now stark white, flowing like a ghostly crown.

    She didn¡¯t move. She just sat there, head tilted slightly, her entire posture radiating exhaustion. Even in this monstrous state, she looked¡­ tired. Worn down by the weight of what she had become.

    "Your presence isn¡¯t welcome," Vomi said, her voice an unsettling symphony of layered tones, a discordant harmony that felt both alien and overpowering.

    Raven froze, her breath caught in her throat, her hand trembling as it instinctively rose to cover her mouth. ¡°...Vomi?¡±

    The figure shifted on her grotesque throne, the biomass entwining her body rippling like the surface of a disturbed pool. Tendrils stretched lazily across the room, coiling and writhing like serpents in anticipation. Her head tilted slightly toward the group, pale hair gleaming faintly in the corrupted light.

    ¡°Your presence isn¡¯t welcome,¡± she repeated, the voices within her overlapping in eerie cadence. It wasn¡¯t just Vomi speaking¡ªit was the symbiote, a legion made one.

    Raven took a hesitant step forward, her legs quaking beneath her. ¡°Vomi, it¡¯s us,¡± she stammered, her voice strained with emotion. ¡°Raven, Nieme, Cinthia. We came to help you.¡±

    Vomi stirred, the black liquid of the symbiote shifting like a second skin. Tendrils slithered closer to the group, languid yet deliberate, almost taunting them. Her glowing, predatory eyes, burning a vivid, unnatural purple, locked onto Raven.

    ¡°Help?¡± The word dripped with disdain, a razor-sharp mockery that cut through the silence. ¡°Is it me you wish to save? Or yourselves?¡±

    Nieme instinctively raised his Contagion Launcher, his finger hovering over the trigger, but Cinthia¡¯s hand shot out, grabbing his arm. ¡°Not yet,¡± she whispered sharply, her voice barely audible over the symbiotic growls reverberating through the room.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come,¡± Vomi continued, the voices within her rising and falling like a static tide. The walls and floor pulsed in unison with her words, the entire room seeming alive, breathing with her. ¡°You¡¯re fragile. Weak. What could you possibly do against this?¡± She gestured around her, the biomass undulating in response, a living extension of her will.

    ¡°We¡¯re not here to fight you,¡± Raven said, forcing herself to step closer despite the terror clawing at her insides. ¡°We brought something¡ªsomething that can help you. Stop this before it¡¯s too late.¡±

    At the mention of stopping, the symbiote tensed. The black suit covering Vomi¡¯s body shimmered and contracted, as if preparing for an attack. Tendrils coiled inward, then lashed out, slamming into the walls and floor with a force that shook the building. Using them like limbs, Vomi propelled herself forward, stopping just short of Raven, looming over her.

    ¡°Make this stop?¡± Vomi¡¯s voice was cold and venomous, the words dripping with incredulity. Slowly, she began retreating to her throne, her movements fluid yet alien, each step deliberate, her monstrous form carried effortlessly by the living tendrils. ¡°We are strong. Perfect. With this, we can protect, punish, and discipline. No fear. No weakness. No death.¡±

    Raven¡¯s grip on her shotgun tightened, her hands trembling, but she didn¡¯t raise it. ¡°Please, Vomi,¡± she said, her voice breaking. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. You¡¯re still in there. I know you are.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s glowing eyes narrowed, the predatory light flickering for the briefest moment. A glimmer of humanity broke through the monstrous facade. Her voice faltered, and for the first time, the harmony of the symbiote cracked.

    ¡°Raven¡­¡± she whispered, soft and distant, as though calling from some forgotten corner of herself.

    Her body sagged, and she sank back onto her throne, the weariness she¡¯d fought to conceal bleeding through. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she murmured, her tone heavy with despair. ¡°I can¡¯t go back. We are strong. United, we thrive. Leave. While you still can.¡±

    The tendrils recoiled, pulling back toward her but remaining poised, like vipers ready to strike. The room seemed to hold its breath, the oppressive silence daring anyone to defy her warning.

    ¡°When I first met you,¡± Raven began, her voice trembling but determined, ¡°I thought you were just some weird NetGonks. You know, the kind who¡¯d party all night and klepp pocket change when no one was looking.¡±

    Her words hung in the air, the tension thick as the symbiote tilted its head, curious. Even Nieme and Cinthia glanced at each other in surprise. Despite the suffocating dread of the moment, despite the monstrous presence towering before her, Raven stood her ground. She was terrified, but she didn¡¯t waver.

    ¡°But Thiago wouldn¡¯t bring someone we couldn¡¯t trust,¡± she continued, her tone softening as her gaze locked onto Vomi¡ªor what was left of her. ¡°Still¡­ I didn¡¯t expect you to stick around. To show up again, and again. And somehow, you did. Every time. You were different. So different from anyone else I¡¯d ever met. You were so¡­ so¡­¡±

    The symbiote stirred, the tendrils curling and uncurling as if mirroring its intrigue. It leaned forward ever so slightly, closing the space between them. For a moment, the alien stillness broke¡ªcuriosity, faint but undeniable, radiated from Vomi¡¯s form.

    ¡°So?¡± The layered voices asked again, almost curious now, the cadence dipping into something faintly human.

    Raven hesitated, gripping her shotgun tightly as she forced herself to speak. ¡°So natural. Maybe carefree? Happy?¡± She swallowed hard, meeting the sharp glow of Vomi¡¯s predatory gaze. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen someone react to life the way you did¡ªwith so much¡­ goofy, genuine joy. Like you didn¡¯t care about walls or shields. You were just you. No pretending, no holding back.¡±

    Her voice wavered but carried on. ¡°That¡¯s what made you, you, Vomi. You made us¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d say happier, but you showed us something. Showed me something. The way you appreciated everything you had¡ªit made me realize how much I take for granted. How much I have to lose.¡±

    The symbiote shifted, its tendrils curling inward like a creature folding into itself. For a moment, something stirred in the alien stillness¡ªa faint sense of ease, maybe nostalgia, maybe even sorrow. It was impossible to read the expression on Vomi¡¯s mask of liquid black, but they could all feel it.

    ¡°And when we did that competition at the gun range?¡± Raven pushed on, voice gaining strength. ¡°You showed me that you could handle things. You. You helped us in gigs, broke Blaze¡¯s guitar¡ªbought us new gear when you didn¡¯t have to. You even helped me deal with the Daggers. You. Not some corpo agenda, not this¡ª¡± she gestured at the pulsating walls surrounding them, ¡°¡ªthis thing. I don¡¯t want to lose you to this, Vomi. I want you back.¡±

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°...We are not yours to lose,¡± Vomi said after a long pause. Her voice was hesitant, conflicted, heavy with emotions that were impossible to define.

    But she was listening.

    Cinthia took the opportunity to step in. ¡°You helped my sister,¡± she said, her voice steady despite the fear gripping her chest. ¡°No one asked you to. You went out of your way to help people without expecting anything in return. There aren¡¯t many people like that¡ªlet alone people who survive this long doing it.¡±

    ¡°And even when you joined M-Tech, despite all of us hating corpos,¡± Nieme added, his tone quieter but no less sincere, ¡°You never stopped being one of us. You still showed up to practice. Still loved the music. Still fought for us. It takes strength to hold onto who you are in this world, but you managed it¡ªeven as a corpo.¡±

    The room grew still, the pulsating walls slowing, the tendrils drawing closer to Vomi as if retreating.

    Something human flickered within the monstrous being, faint but undeniable.

    "Just... just let us help you. Can you do that?" Raven pleaded, carefully lowering her shotgun, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Vomi¡¯s tendrils recoiled fully, leaving only the symbiote suit clinging tightly to her body. She sank deeper into the throne, her movements slow, as if the weight of her own exhaustion kept her grounded. "We are so tired... So much pain. So many needs. Uncertainty, greed, rage, death... We don''t even know if this world is worth living for anymore. But we tried. We tried to be a part of it."

    "¡­What?" Raven whispered, her voice trembling, struggling to process what she was hearing.

    "Our old world?" The symbiote continued, its voice distant yet strangely thoughtful, ignoring Raven¡¯s confusion. "It was dull, sure. But people there didn¡¯t idolize death. They wanted to live with purpose, leave a legacy, build something for their children. They sought knowledge, meaning, salvation."

    Vomi''s voice grew colder. "This world? They don¡¯t care about what they leave behind. They don''t care if they become the very thing they despise. They don¡¯t care about losing their humanity. It¡¯s all about their own desires, their own fulfillment, without regard for the connections they tear apart or ignore along the way."

    Cinthia stepped forward, still lost. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    Nieme leaned closer to Raven, his voice a whisper. ¡°Use the serum.¡±

    Raven hesitated, carefully picking up the vial, but she waited, her eyes locked on Vomi, as if hoping for her to say more.

    Vomi¡¯s glowing eyes shifted toward Raven, her gaze sharp, yet carrying an unmistakable sorrow. "You don¡¯t understand. No one does," she said, her voice quivering, distorted by the symbiote inside her. "We thought we could change things, fix it all. But now, it feels like nothing matters. The more we try to hold on to something real, the more it slips away. It doesn¡¯t matter how much we want to feel human again... This world is broken."

    Raven took a step forward, the serum now cold in her hand, its weight pressing against her palm. "Vomi, you''re still in there," she said softly, her voice filled with desperation. "I know you are. We just... we want to help. Please, let us help before it''s too late."

    The tendrils around Vomi shifted, less aggressive now but still coiled protectively, as if responding to some deep instinct. "It is too late," Vomi murmured, lowering her head. "We aren¡¯t who we were anymore. We can''t be." She lifted her gaze again, her eyes flickering with something faintly human. "But maybe... maybe you''re right. Maybe there''s still a part of us that wants to fight. A part that wants to be saved."

    Raven¡¯s heart leapt in her chest, hope igniting within her. She stepped closer, holding out the vial of serum. "This can make it stop," she whispered, almost pleading. "Please, Vomi, we can fix this."

    Vomi¡¯s eyes flickered from the serum to Raven¡¯s face, her body still, the room pulsing with an unsettling rhythm around them. The symbiote seemed to hum, its presence almost sensing the threat of the cure. For a long, unbearable moment, silence filled the air.

    Raven held her breath, her heart pounding, waiting for some sign, some answer.

    The symbiote¡¯s voice broke the silence, dripping with disdain. "That thing... it will kill us." It paused, a low growl vibrating in the air. "Who gave this to you?"

    Uh oh.

    Raven froze, the warning in the symbiote''s voice sending a chill down her spine.

    Nieme took the serum from Raven''s hand, trying to stick it on Vomi''s shoulder.

    <hr>

    A Few Minutes Ago

    Ascendant Officer, Badge No. 784

    ¡°We¡¯ve tracked the device to its current location,¡± Officer 784 reported over the comms to his squad.

    Their orders, issued by Jinxiu, were clear but precise: "Assist" the group approaching the target, ensuring that the symbiote was either destroyed or secured the moment the serum was used. On paper, it sounded straightforward. In practice, it was a tactical nightmare.

    The symbiote was unpredictable, operating with little precedent and no real counter-strategy. It resembled a Cyberpsycho outbreak, but this was something far worse¡ªsomething they had neither the experience nor comprehensive data to handle. Still, their arsenal and cyberware were designed for extreme scenarios, and Jinxiu wouldn¡¯t have greenlit this operation unless victory was certain.

    ¡°Roger that. Allow the group to engage the target first,¡± the Central Command replied, its tone clipped and professional. ¡°And remember, fire is your failsafe.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± another officer, Badge No. 884, confirmed.

    The six-man squad held their position in the corridor just outside the symbiote¡¯s lair. The floor was a grotesque landscape of biomass¡ªroots, tendrils, or some unholy combination of the two, sprawling in every direction. The room pulsed faintly, alive with the symbiote¡¯s energy.

    Each soldier was armed to the teeth with explosive rounds and high-impact munitions, more than enough firepower to obliterate even an armored AV. If these weapons couldn¡¯t neutralize the target, nothing would.

    Taking up tactical positions, they watched the interaction unfolding before them. The three civilians¡ªthe ones reportedly connected to the target¡ªhad made contact.

    From the way they were talking, it was clear: this wasn¡¯t just a random mission. These people had history with the monster. And judging by the tension in the air, they were about to make their move.

    The target spoke, the voice faint, disdainful and maybe sorrowful, ¡°This world? They don¡¯t care about what they leave behind. They don''t care if they become the very thing they despise. They don¡¯t care about losing their humanity. It¡¯s all about their own desires, their own fulfillment, without regard for the connections they tear apart or ignore along the way."

    ¡°Yeah, because what the world really needs is a philosophical monster,¡± No. 992 muttered, his tone thick with sarcasm as he observed the scene.

    "Enough," 784 snapped, silencing No. 992 with a sharp glance. "Just wait for the serum to be used."

    "Roger..." 992 muttered, though his tone made it clear he wasn¡¯t thrilled about the order.

    The civilians continued their exchange, spouting melodramatic appeals that the squad had no interest in. Still, their BD recorders kept rolling, capturing every second of the interaction and uploading it in real-time to Ascendant¡¯s servers.

    Finally, the apparent leader of the group pulled out the serum, holding it up¡ªdirectly in front of the symbiote.

    "Is she stupid or just plain dumb?" No. 557 asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

    "This is about to turn ugly, boss," No. 1178 muttered, gripping his weapon tightly. "Permission to engage?"

    "Denied," 784 replied instantly, his tone cold and calculating. "Let¡¯s see how this plays out. But take aim. Fire rounds on the ready."

    "Yessir," No. 742 said, flipping the safety off his rifle and settling into position.

    The symbiote¡¯s voice echoed, dripping with disdain. "That thing... it will kill us." It paused, a low growl vibrating in the air. "Who gave this to you?¡±

    Before anyone could answer, one of the civilians lunged forward, attempting to jab the serum into the symbiote''s shoulder.

    He didn''t make it.

    A tendril shot out with lightning speed, slamming him against the ceiling with a sickening crack. His body went limp, dropping like a rag doll to the floor. Whether he was dead or merely unconscious, the squad neither knew nor cared. Their focus was now on shooting the monster. It looks like securing it won''t be possible.

    <hr>

    Raven Lowhental

    She stood frozen, inches away from disaster. The tendril had missed her by a hair¡¯s breadth, slamming Nieme against the ceiling before tossing him to the ground like a discarded toy. Raven''s breath caught in her throat as she stared at Vomi, who moments ago had seemed weary, conflicted¡ªalmost reachable.

    Now, all Raven could see was pure rage. Betrayal burned in Vomi¡¯s glowing eyes, and Raven felt the weight of her mistake crushing down on her. She shouldn¡¯t have trusted Graves. Of course, something like this would happen.

    ¡°Get down!¡± Cinthia tackled her, yanking her to the ground just as bullets screamed through the air.

    The barrage tore toward Vomi, relentless and precise. Each shot ripped into her, forcing the symbiote to react. Tendrils shot up, forming a protective wall of biomass, but the bullets shredded it with ease. The damage was evident, leaving Vomi no choice but to move. The assault didn¡¯t allow her a moment¡¯s reprieve.

    "Who are these gonks?!" Cinthia yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire, ducking for cover. Thankfully, whoever had stormed in wasn''t targeting them¡ª yet.

    "I don''t know!" Raven shouted back, her voice laced with panic as she scrambled to keep her head down.

    Vomi¡ªno, the symbiote¡ªshifted from defense to offense in a split second. It moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between itself and the hit squad with fluid, inhuman grace. Bullets tore through the air, but none hit their mark as Vomi darted along the walls, leaping and weaving through the chaos.

    When one officer came within range, a tendril lashed out to ensnare him. But before it could land, another officer''s arm gleamed with a sudden burst of crimson light. A red-hot mantis blade, cyberware modified to radiate extreme heat, severed the tendril cleanly.

    Without hesitation, the officer pressed forward, closing the gap. The blade gleamed as it pierced straight into Vomi''s side, the superheated edge cutting through the biomass with a hiss of searing flesh.

    Sandevistan. The thought flickered through Vomi''s mind, sharp and bitter amidst the pain.

    The others took the opportunity to unload their mags on the symbiote as the officer held Vomi in place.

    The others seized the opportunity, their weapons roaring to life as they unloaded entire magazines into the symbiote. Each bullet struck true, tearing into Vomi''s form, sending fragments of biomass splattering across the walls and floor.

    The officer holding Vomi in place kept his blade buried in her side, the superheated metal hissing against the flesh-like substance of the symbiote. Vomi¡¯s glowing eyes flared with pain and fury, her movements momentarily restrained by the combined assault.

    But the symbiote was not so easily subdued.

    A surge of biomass erupted from Vomi¡¯s back, forming spiked tendrils that lashed out in every direction. One officer screamed as a spike impaled his chest, throwing him violently across the room. Another was knocked off his feet, his gun skittering across the floor.

    "Fall back!" barked 784, the leader of the hit squad. He switched his rifle to incendiary rounds, firing directly into Vomi''s chest. The flames ignited on impact, spreading across her torso like wildfire.

    Vomi shrieked¡ªnot in fear, but in rage. The sound was inhuman, a guttural howl that echoed through the chamber, shaking the very walls. The symbiote pushed back against the pain, tearing the mantis blade from her side and throwing the officer holding it to the ground like a ragdoll.

    "You think fire will stop us?!" the distorted, layered voice roared.

    The flames licked at her body, but the biomass began to regenerate, the seared flesh peeling away as fresh, writhing tendrils replaced it. Her movements became even more erratic, her form shifting between monstrous and humanoid as she retaliated with overwhelming force.

    "Shit!" 1178 cursed, grabbing Nieme''s limp body with the hydraulic strength of his Gorilla Arms and hoisting it in front of him as a makeshift shield.

    It worked¡ªbarely. A massive surge of black biomass crashed into him, obliterating Nieme''s body in an explosion of blood and shattered bones.

    "No! Nieme!" Raven''s scream tore through the chaos, raw with grief and disbelief.

    Another friend. Another loss.

    Cinthia yanked Raven by the arm, forcing her to move as she dragged her toward the exit. "We need to delta! Now!¡±

    ¡°But¡ª!¡±, Raven tired to protest, her voice cracking as she stared at what was supposed to be Nieme''s corpse.

    "No!" Cinthia snapped, her grip tightening. "I''m not losing my sister in this hellhole!¡±

    Then the room was consumed by blinding, burning white.

    <hr>

    At the PD, Thiago couldn¡¯t sit still. His knees bounced, his foot tapped against the floor in an unrelenting rhythm, a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside him. Ever since Raven and the others left, his mind had been racing. Katie, his little girl, had just found out that three of her father¡¯s friends¡ªpeople she admired¡ªwere dead. And all because of someone she once idolized.

    Katie hadn¡¯t said much since the news broke, but the way she sat silently, staring at the floor, was almost worse. Whatever was going on in her head was likely just as chaotic as the storm raging in Thiago¡¯s.

    He should be out there with them. Helping. Fighting. Doing something. But then what? What would happen to Katie if he didn¡¯t come back?

    The guilt gnawed at him, relentless and sharp. Not guilt over bringing Vomi into the band¡ªhe didn¡¯t regret that. But because he was the one who did. He was the one who invited her in with his usual unorthodox charm. And now? Now everything was falling apart.

    Thiago pressed his palms against his temples, trying to steady himself, but it didn¡¯t work. He felt paralyzed¡ªtorn between staying for Katie or going to help the others.

    Pros and cons. Highs and lows.

    The mental battle raged on, louder than the tapping of his foot.

    ¡°Fuck...¡± Thiago muttered, lowering his head into his hands.

    ¡°Daddy?¡± Katie¡¯s voice broke the silence, small and hesitant.

    ¡°Yes, sweetie?¡± Thiago turned to her, forcing a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. He tried to appear confident.

    He failed.

    ¡°Are the others going to¡­ going to¡­¡±

    Die? Be okay? Come back? She couldn¡¯t finish the sentence, and Thiago couldn¡¯t fill in the blanks.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said softly, shaking his head.

    Katie nodded, her young mind grasping that some questions didn¡¯t have answers. ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    Frank had been sitting with them the entire time, quiet but observant. He watched the father and daughter, feeling a tug in his chest he hadn¡¯t expected. This family was caught in a mess that wasn¡¯t their fault, yet they bore the weight of it with such pain, such raw sorrow. It gnawed at him, stirring thoughts he hadn¡¯t wanted to face.

    Maybe Nieme had been right all along.

    The Refused¡ªthe band, the mismatched group of broken but resilient people¡ªwere more than just a band. They were united. To feel this level of concern, this depth of connection for someone else¡¯s wellbeing? That didn¡¯t happen easily. It took time, trust, and effort to build. And now, Frank realized, it would take even greater strength to keep it from falling apart.

    He let out a breath, his veteran voice steady but warm. ¡°They¡¯re tough, girl,¡± he said to Katie. ¡°And they¡¯re smart. They¡¯ve got the gear and the guts to make it through. As long as they stick together and trust each other¡­ they¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°¡­Why?¡± Katie¡¯s voice was small, her eyes searching Frank¡¯s face for something, anything.

    ¡°Why what?¡± Frank replied, trying to be the uncle who could provide some comfort, some sense of stability.

    Katie bit her lip, her eyes filling with uncertainty. ¡°Why does it have to be like this? Why does everything feel so broken? Why are they all out there... fighting?¡±

    Frank hesitated, unsure of how to answer in a way that would make sense to her. He looked at Thiago, then back at Katie, seeing the weight in both of their eyes.

    ¡°Sometimes... things just get messy, kiddo,¡± Frank said softly, his tone more reflective than he''d intended. ¡°The world doesn¡¯t always make sense, and the people we care about... they get caught up in things they never asked for.¡± He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. ¡°But you have to trust them. They¡¯re fighting for something bigger than themselves. For the people they care about. For you, even.¡±

    Katie didn¡¯t say anything for a moment, digesting the words. Then, she slowly nodded, though doubt still lingered in her gaze.

    ¡°I just want them to be okay,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I know,¡± Frank muttered, ¡°I know.¡± He gave her a small, comforting pat on the shoulder. "But they¡¯re tough. They''ll make it through."

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense though,¡± Katie continued, her eyes fixed on her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°They fight, they change, they... they become things they never should¡¯ve had to. And now they¡¯re trying to fix something that didn¡¯t even need to be broken in the first place.¡±

    Her words hung in the air, unexpected and surprisingly mature for someone so young. It was an insight that hit harder than any of Frank¡¯s attempts to explain it away.

    "Keep thinking like that," Thiago said with a wry smile, "You''ll end up smarter than the rest of us."

    "That isn''t funny," Katie frowned, her expression serious. "Adults are weird. They all fall apart once they get old enough. That¡¯s why I¡¯m not becoming one."

    "You... can''t really stop that, sweetie," Thiago said, unsure how to respond to a child acting like a child¡ªespecially after showing such a mature understanding.

    "Watch me," she crossed her arms, pouting. "And you better not turn into... something you''re not."

    Frank chuckled. "Kids, am I right?"

    Thiago nodded, though Katie stuck out her tongue at him in response.

    Despite the brief distraction, Thiago''s mind remained a storm of overthinking, replaying everything from his first meeting with Vomi to yesterday. The guilt of sitting idle, of doing nothing while everything spiraled out of control, weighed heavily on him. His foot tapped the ground again, a reflex driven by his anxiety.

    ¡°My family¡¯s out there, dying in that district! Why isn¡¯t anyone doing anything? That¡¯s what the HuscleNet is for! To get shit done!¡±

    The sudden outburst jolted Thiago, though he realized it had probably been happening all along, and he had only now tuned in.

    The officer behind the counter raised his hands in a placating gesture. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, but we don¡¯t have enough personnel to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Excuses! I want solutions! How am I supposed to see my family if I just sit here doing nothing?¡±

    Another civilian chimed in, clearly fueled by the same frustration. ¡°Yeah! We need weapons, we need to take this into our own hands! That thing¡¯s gonna kill us if we just sit around waiting!¡±

    Thiago felt the truth in their words, though his mind grappled with the reality of their helplessness. Staying put wasn¡¯t going to solve anything, but what could they possibly do? He couldn¡¯t deny that he felt the same frustration as them. He wanted to act. He just didn¡¯t know how.

    "Dad." Katie tugged at his shirt, her voice serious. "You''re making that face."

    Thiago looked at her, a little puzzled. "What face?"

    "The one you made when Mom was at the Ripperdoc," Katie replied, her tone unwavering. "I don''t like that face."

    Thiago sighed, trying to mask the worry that crept into his features. "I''m just... thinking, sweetie."

    Katie frowned, her small hand gripping his shirt tighter. "You always think too much. It makes you sad. And I don''t want you to be sad."

    He felt a lump form in his throat, her innocence striking him harder than it should. "I know, kiddo. I know." He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping for a moment. "I¡¯m just trying to figure out how to fix things."

    Katie stared up at him, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity. "You don¡¯t have to fix everything, Dad. Sometimes... just being there is enough."

    ¡°Being there is enough,¡± Thiago huffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. His own kid, giving him advice.

    Though, as much as it stung, it wasn¡¯t bad advice. Sometimes, just being around could ease the tension between people. Maybe one person was down, feeling like crap, and all it took was the quiet presence of someone they trusted. No words needed, just the comfort of shared silence, maybe a beer between them. Sometimes, that was enough.

    ¡°Being there is enough...?¡±, He repeated the phrase in his mind, letting it sink in.

    For a moment, it felt like something clicked.

    ¡°Yes, Dad.¡± Katie nodded, raising an eyebrow. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±

    ¡°No, don¡¯t even think about it,¡± Frank said immediately, catching onto Thiago¡¯s thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna be responsible for the death of someone today.¡±

    Thiago looked at him, frustration and guilt simmering beneath his calm exterior. ¡°It¡¯s not about that. It¡¯s about being there. I can¡¯t just sit here... I have to do something.¡±

    Frank shook his head, his voice firm but laced with concern. ¡°You¡¯ll only make things worse. You¡¯re not the only one with a stake in this. Katie needs you here, Thiago. Don¡¯t be another thing to lose.¡±

    Thiago opened his mouth to argue but closed it, the weight of his own words holding him back. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was fear, responsibility, or something else entirely, but all he could do was nod slowly.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Thiago muttered, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°Wanna come with me, Katie?¡±

    ¡°Where?¡± she asked, looking up at him curiously.

    ¡°Oh, you can¡¯t be serious...¡± Frank facepalmed, his frustration clear. ¡°This is your solution? Seriously? I can¡¯t let you do this. I won¡¯t allow it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I wasn¡¯t asking for permission,¡± Thiago said, scooping Katie up and settling her on his arm. ¡°No martial law that I know of, so I can go wherever the hell I want.¡±

    Frank opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it with a grimace, as if biting back something he shouldn¡¯t say. ¡°You¡¯ll get yourself killed with the smallest mistake. And you¡¯re bringing your daughter along? Are you insane? Am I talking to a psycho here?¡±

    ¡°Fully ganic,¡± Thiago flexed his arm in a mock display of strength, as if it proved a point.

    ¡°That¡¯s even worse,¡± Frank shot back, disbelief in his voice. ¡°No protection? How the hell do you expect to survive... that?¡±

    Katie, not missing a beat, looked up at her dad with wide, innocent eyes. ¡°Daddy, where are we going?¡±

    ¡°I''m gonna do what is enough.¡±

 Chapter 35: Decadence

    A flash? High-intensity light? Raven couldn''t tell. Her vision blurred, her senses scrambled, but the thunderous sound of gunfire that followed left no room for doubt. Whoever was responsible wasn''t holding back. Each blast reverberated through the room, sharp and deafening, each crack a hammer to her ears. The sheer force felt like a detonation, and from the rapid cadence, it had to be an automatic shotgun.

    Wait. Automatic shotguns? In San Francisco? Almost every shotgun she knew was either pump-action or break-action, the kind where you had to reload every two shots. When did auto shotguns become a thing in this city¡ª

    Her train of thought derailed.

    "Wait... Blaze?! Is that you?!" she screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos. She wasn''t sure who was firing-the hit squad or whoever owned the booming weapon-but she recognized that voice.

    "Die, you fucking monster!" the man roared, his fury unmistakable.

    Monster. There was only one thing he could mean.

    "Fuck! My eyes!" Cinthia cursed beside her, rubbing her face furiously. Her more expensive optics had rebooted quicker than Raven''s. She blinked, the light having left ghostly spots in her vision. "What the hell was that? Some kind of flashbang?"

    Raven stumbled, shaking off the last of her disorientation, her heart sinking as realization dawned. The hit squad was still firing, but now... now there was someone else in the mix. Someone they hadn''t accounted for. Someone angry. Blaze charged forward, his chromed arms turning the first officer into a ragdoll with a single sucker punch. The poor bastard hit the floor, out cold before he even registered the attack. Blaze followed up with shotgun blasts so relentless, so brutal, even Raven found herself momentarily stunned by his ferocity. It felt excessive¡ªoverkill, even¡ªbut she wasn''t about to complain. Right now, they needed every ounce of grit they could muster.

    "Take this, you cunts!" Blaze roared, hurling a grenade that looked as if it had been cobbled together in someone''s basement workshop.

    Raven and Cinthia dove behind a desk just as the grenade detonated. A blinding light flooded the room, followed by an intense wave of heat. Raven''s heart sank as she recognized the blast: a FlashFire grenade, an incendiary variant with an added photon burst. The weapon was as unpredictable as it was destructive, and the results were immediate.

    The six-man hit squad was reduced to two. Whether by Blaze''s improvised warpath or Vomi''s monstrous fury, it didn''t matter. The room was painted in chaos, the air thick with smoke and the acrid tang of burning flesh.

    Raven''s gaze snapped to Vomi. She stood motionless in the haze, holding one of the remaining officers aloft in her clawed hand. His legs twitched as he tried and failed to pry himself free. Blaze didn''t waste a second, pumping another shell into his shotgun before turning to the second officer. With a deafening blast, the man''s head was reduced to pulp.

    "I see you''ve been using our grenades," Vomi''s symbiotic voice mused, a cold detachment in her tone. "They won''t be effective against us.¡±

    With those words, her grip tightened around the officer''s throat. A sickening crunch echoed as she crushed his windpipe, tossing the lifeless body to the floor like discarded trash.

    "I fucking bet they will," Blaze snarled, reloading his shotgun with a ferocity that radiated pure malice. Even Raven and Cinthia felt the weight of his intent, as if the fury in his movements could shatter their resolve just as easily.

    "You went there to kill me," Vomi hissed, her voice low but venomous. "You gave parts of us to Graves. He made a serum to destroy us. Why? Why are you all so eager to eradicate our kin? We''re trying to protect! You ungrateful imbeciles!"

    Blaze''s voice exploded with rage. "You killed Heitor, you stupid bitch!"

    "It wasn''t intentional! He stabbed us with a syringe! What would you do if something suddenly pierced your body?" Vomi snapped back, her voice trembling with equal parts frustration and indignation.

    Blaze''s answer came not in words but action. He fired the shotgun point-blank, the deafening blast ripping into Vomi''s chest. The damage was significant, black biomass splattering against the wall. But the recoil punished Blaze just as hard. His shoulder groaned under the strain, dents forming in the chromed plating. His arm, twisted from the brutal kickback, hung awkwardly as if threatening to disconnect entirely.

    How much recoil did that shotgun have?

    Blaze''s breathing was ragged, yet his fury remained unyielding despite the toll it took on his battered frame. "You don¡¯t get to talk about protection when all you ever do is leave bodies in your wake!"

    ¡°And we¡¯d gladly do it again if it meant saving the ones we care about!¡± the symbiote roared, its flesh twisting and knitting itself back together in seconds, the grotesque regeneration a chilling reminder of its inhumanity. ¡°You don¡¯t deserve our care! You deserve our despise!¡±

    The air between them crackled with raw tension, their words cutting as deeply as any weapon. Blaze¡¯s grip tightened on the shotgun despite the pain radiating through his arms, and Vomi¡¯s stance grew even more menacing, the black tendrils coiling like snakes ready to strike. Neither was willing to back down, their shared grief and anger turning the conflict into a personal war.

    The ones who people just couldn¡¯t back down.

    Raven ran straight toward them.

    ¡°Raven, no!¡± Cinthia shouted, her voice tinged with panic. But Raven didn¡¯t stop.

    She placed herself between the two combatants, arms spread wide in a desperate attempt to keep the peace. "Please, stop! We don¡¯t need to do this!"

    ¡°Raven, step out of the way, right now!¡± Blaze barked, the shotgun¡ªCerberus¡ªstill trained on the symbiote.

    ¡°Your interference will be dealt with later, traitor,¡± Vomi snarled, her voice laced with venom.

    ¡°Please!¡± Raven pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of the tension. The murderous intent in the air was suffocating, almost palpable. "We don¡¯t need to kill each other! We can solve this without more bloodshed!"

    ¡°The serum won¡¯t cure anything,¡± Vomi said coldly, her gaze flickering to the vial lying on the ground near Nieme¡¯s lifeless body. "It will degenerate the cells in our body. It¡¯s designed to attack Klyntar biology¡ªbut it only works when the foreign cells are freshly integrated.¡±

    She began pacing slowly, her movements calculated and deliberate. Blaze mirrored her steps, circling like a predator, shotgun still aimed.

    Cinthia stayed crouched behind cover, too terrified to intervene. Her gaze darted between the suitcase of grenades and the escalating standoff. Could those grenades even work? Would they hurt only the symbiote, or Raven too?

    ¡°What...?¡± Raven turned to Vomi, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. "How can you be so sure?"

    Vomi gestured to the vial with a clawed hand. "Because it operates like a vaccine. It teaches the body to fight the unnatural DNA inside. But we," she gestured at herself, "are many within one. We are a new entity entirely. Our biological structure is too evolved. This serum won¡¯t heal us¡ªit will destroy us."

    ¡°That¡¯s all the information I needed to hear,¡± Blaze growled, his gaze locked on the vial. It was closer to him than to Vomi. And he intended to take advantage of that.

    Both moved at once¡ªVomi lunged for Blaze, while Blaze dove for the vial.

    But the symbiote was faster. A tendril shot out, latching onto Blaze''s already battered cybernetic arm. With a brutal yank, the arm was wrenched free, sparks flying as the damaged appendage was torn apart. Blaze didn''t scream¡ªpain wasn''t something he let slip¡ªbut the grimace on his face said enough. Now unarmed, and without the strength to wield Cerberus, he kept running, his determination undeterred despite his crippled state.

    Vomi didn''t relent. As the tendril finished its task, her body followed through. She drove her knee into Blaze''s back with horrifying force. The sound of his spine snapping echoed through the room. Blaze collapsed, the pain searing through his upper body like wildfire. From the waist down, he felt nothing. Paralyzed, broken, yet somehow still moving forward with sheer willpower, he reached out feebly toward the serum.

    Raven sprinted into the fray, desperate to intervene. "Stop it, Vomi!" she yelled, unsure if she was addressing her friend or the monster.

    But this time, the symbiote wasn''t stopping. A tendril lashed out at Raven, its grotesque form bristling with jagged teeth and bone-like spines. If it hit, it would tear her apart. She rolled out of the way at the last second, the ceiling behind her taking the full brunt of the attack. Black ichor dripped from the impact site, hissing like acid.

    Blaze slumped against the wall, his body battered, bloodied, and scorched. He couldn''t move his legs, but his sharp eyes caught the symbiote''s shift in focus. Vomi turned her attention toward Raven, the monstrous spider symbol on her chest twisting and writhing as if alive. The mask''s eyes narrowed in rage, and Raven froze.

    All her bravado, all her practiced confidence¡ªit evaporated under that gaze. This wasn''t something she could fight, not with words or fists. This was something beyond her, beyond any human ability to withstand.

    As she said it once, fake confidence.

    "You were a great singer. I''ll give you that," the creature said, its voice dripping with malice as it gripped Raven''s shoulder, claws digging into her flesh.

    "LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!"

    A voice roared across the room, and for the first time, the symbiote paused. Its many minds turned toward the source.

    "A suitcase.¡±

    That single thought echoed within Vomi''s mind, shared by all symbiotes.

    The same suitcase packed with incendiary grenades.

    Raven, in a desperate move, rolled to the ground just in time to avoid the explosion. But these weren¡¯t ordinary incendiaries. This was White Phosphorus¡ªa weapon that burned everything it touched.

    Cinthia had armed just one grenade before slamming the suitcase shut and hurling it across the room. The heat was so intense that the metal casing began to warp and melt even before the grenade detonated.

    The resulting blast was blinding, a searing white firestorm that roared to life, devouring the air with a ferocity that left no doubt about its lethality.

    The room filled with blistering heat and choking smoke, a hellish scene of melting walls and blistering flesh. The suitcase had been reduced to slag, and the bright, white flames spread hungrily, devouring everything in their path.

    Vomi let out an otherworldly scream, the symbiote thrashing wildly as the phosphorus clung to her, its chemical wrath burning her flesh and tendrils alike. For a moment, it seemed like the monster might falter, that even her regenerative powers couldn¡¯t keep up with the unrelenting inferno.

    Raven, coughing from the acrid smoke, scrambled to her feet and pulled Cinthia down behind what little cover was left. "Are you insane?!" she yelled, her voice strained.

    "I¡¯m not losing you, Raven!" Cinthia shot back, clutching her arm, which had been grazed by a stray piece of shrapnel.

    Blaze, slumped against the wall, looked at the chaos with a grim satisfaction. His body was broken, his cybernetics fried, but his lips curled into a smirk. "Burn, you goddamn freak."

    The symbiote''s screeches turned guttural, its voice layered and distorted, a horrifying blend of rage and pain. The creature lashed out blindly, tendrils flailing in every direction as its blackened form began to stagger.

    "We have to move now!" Cinthia shouted, grabbing Raven''s arm and yanking her toward the nearest exit.

    "But Blaze¡ª!"

    "He¡¯s done, Raven! He knew it when he lit this fire. Move!"

    As the sisters fled, the building groaned ominously, the fire consuming its structural supports. A deep rumble shook the floor beneath them. Vomi¡¯s voice, distorted and monstrous, echoed behind them.

    "This... isn¡¯t... over!"

    The last thing they saw before escaping into the streets was the inferno swallowing the monster whole, the flames a blinding, wrathful white.

    <hr>

    ¡°Dad, this car isn¡¯t ours,¡± Katie pointed out, watching Thiago fumble with the locked door. The small hacking device he held blinked steadily as it worked through the vehicle¡¯s security system.

    ¡°I know,¡± he replied, his focus unbroken. ¡°But I don¡¯t have time. Corporations might already be where I need to be.¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°And where¡¯s that?¡± Katie looked around nervously, scanning for anyone who might notice their activity. ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to help a choom.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. ¡°Is that¡­ Vomi?¡±

    Thiago froze for a moment, his hand hovering above the device. He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but lying wasn¡¯t an option either. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned to face her.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Vomi.¡±

    Katie¡¯s worried expression shifted to fear. ¡°But¡­ didn¡¯t Raven and the others already go after her?¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Thiago replied, his attention back on the car¡¯s lock as it clicked into place. ¡°But I feel responsible for all of this.¡±

    ¡°For all of San Francisco?¡± Katie asked, incredulous.

    ¡°No, not that,¡± Thiago chuckled bitterly, though the thought wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. ¡°For what happened to us. And to Vomi.¡±

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Katie pressed, her voice small.

    ¡°I¡¯m still figuring that out,¡± he said, opening the car door at last. ¡°Now hop in. We need to move.¡±

    Katie climbed into the passenger seat, her hands gripping her knees tightly. Stealing a car wasn¡¯t new to her in theory¡ªshe¡¯d always known what her father did to make ends meet¡ªbut being part of it felt different. Uneasy. Thiago, however, had no time for hesitation. His mind was consumed by one thought: finding Vomi.

    Maybe she thought he was dead. Maybe her rampage stemmed from that grief. If showing up alive could stop her, he had to try. It was a desperate gamble, but Thiago had always been lucky when it came to gambles.

    The car engine sputtered to life, the sound breaking the eerie stillness. As they drove, navigating streets littered with debris and abandoned vehicles, the weight of their surroundings sank in. Burnt-out buildings, smoldering wreckage, and¡ªworst of all¡ªbodies.

    ¡°Jesus¡­¡± Thiago muttered under his breath, his knuckles tightening on the wheel.

    Katie¡¯s wide eyes locked on the carnage outside. Her freckles stood out against her pale skin, her small frame trembling. Thiago glanced at her, heart sinking. He leaned over, wrapping an arm around her and gently covering her eyes.

    ¡°Was it¡­ Vomi?¡± she whispered, her voice trembling.

    ¡°I hope not,¡± Thiago said quietly.

    The car rolled through the ruined streets, the only sound the low growl of the engine and the distant crackle of fire.

    It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out where Vomi might be. The top floor of the building was unmistakable, just as Thiago had seen in Blaze¡¯s BD and on the PD footage Frank had shown him. Biomass oozed from shattered windows, the blackened tendrils spilling down like grotesque vines. The symbiote loomed, casting an unnatural shadow over what was once a thriving city.

    Thiago pulled the car to a stop in the middle of the street and stepped out, lifting Katie into his arms. The long climb up the stairwell barely registered¡ªhis mind was already focused on what lay ahead. When they reached the top floor, the door was sealed shut, blocked by an imposing wall of solid black goo.

    Thiago reached out and gave it an experimental poke.

    ¡°Gross,¡± Katie muttered, wrinkling her nose.

    ¡°It¡¯s sticky,¡± Thiago remarked, rubbing his fingertips together with mild disgust. ¡°But¡­ well, here goes nothing.¡±

    He pushed forward, doing his best to shield Katie from the muck while maneuvering through the strange barrier. The moment they stepped inside, his nostrils flared in irritation¡ªnot from spores or anything alien, but from the unmistakable, acrid stench of burnt flesh. The air was thick, oppressive, as if the flames had only just died out.

    Katie quickly clamped her hand over her nose, her muffled voice tinged with discomfort. ¡°What is that smell?¡±

    Thiago followed suit, pinching his nose as his eyes scanned the room. ¡°Burnt flesh,¡± he said grimly. ¡°And from the look of it, the fire wasn¡¯t too long ago.¡±

    Katie gagged slightly but steadied herself. ¡°What happened here?¡± Her words came out nasally, muffled by her covered nostrils.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Thiago muttered, his gaze sweeping across the scorched remains scattered across the room. ¡°But fire like this¡­ it doesn¡¯t just happen.¡±

    After navigating a few more corridors, Thiago froze at the sight before him- something he desperately wished he hadn''t seen. Instinctively, he turned Katie''s head away, shielding her from the horror.

    Blaze''s lifeless body was slumped against the wall, wrapped in black tendrils that seemed to drain every last bit of color from him. Further down the hallway lay Nieme, riddled with bullet holes, his body pinned grotesquely in place by jagged appendages.

    Thiago''s stomach churned. "Fuck me..." he whispered under his breath.

    "Dad?" Katie''s voice was small, her confusion and worry cutting through the silence.

    "No... it''s nothing," Thiago said quickly, his voice trembling but firm. He adjusted her in his arms and started moving again. "Let''s... just keep going.¡±

    They finally reached the last room¡ªthe source of the overwhelming biomass, and the place where danger felt almost tangible. Thiago stepped forward hesitantly, his grip on Katie tightening unconsciously.

    There it was. The symbiote.

    Burned. Healing. Exhausted. Furious.

    The sight rooted Thiago to the spot. He had never seen Vomi like this in person, and now that he did, the sheer presence of her twisted form sent a wave of dread coursing through him. It was the kind of primal fear that made a person feel infinitesimally small, a reminder of how powerless one could be in the face of something far greater than themselves.

    He just stood there, frozen, watching as the monster¡ªhis friend¡ªlashed out at itself. Tendrils slashed at the charred parts of its body, fists pounded into burned flesh. It was trying to heal, trying and failing, punishing itself with every blow.

    On the ground, away from the grotesque sight of the symbiote¡¯s anguish, lay the vial of the serum¡ªuntouched and gleaming faintly in the dim light.

    <hr>

    ¡°The mission was an utter failure,¡± Jinxiu scoffed over the comms, her tone sharp with irritation.

    Kaneda, already on edge, sighed heavily. ¡°Expected.¡±

    ¡°And the serum?¡± he asked after a tense pause.

    ¡°Never used,¡± Jinxiu replied, clicking her tongue in frustration. ¡°The symbiote rampaged before anyone had the chance.¡±

    Kaneda rubbed his temples. ¡°Someone has to use it,¡± he muttered. ¡°It¡¯s the only way we¡¯ll know what comes next¡ªwhether it is a success or a failure.¡±

    His gaze shifted to the warhead resting ominously beside him.

    ¡°Failure¡­¡± he whispered, his voice carrying both resignation and dread.

    ¡°And how exactly do you plan on making this work?¡± Jinxiu¡¯s tone dripped with bitter annoyance. ¡°Every resource we¡¯ve thrown at this has been a complete failure. Not even Vomi¡¯s so-called close associates could get through to her.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s still Thiago,¡± Kaneda said, his voice thoughtful as he weighed the possibility. ¡°He hasn¡¯t been near the symbiote since it started spiraling out of control. That makes him... different.¡±

    ¡°Different how? Will he just be killed quickly and painlessly? Because that¡¯s the only outcome I see,¡± Jinxiu snapped, her frustration spilling over. She was done entertaining ideas that felt more like desperate gambles than strategies.

    This should have been under control. If not for that scatterbrain Nieme screwing up, the squad would¡¯ve succeeded. They had a solid plan, the resources, and the timing. But every time they tried to outmaneuver and overpower the symbiote, it adapted, rendering previous methods completely useless.

    She turned her gaze to the window, the sunlight casting a sharp glare. Her HUD displayed the time: 1 PM. As much as she hated to admit it, they were running out of time¡ªand options.

    "Who would''ve thought the calm and collected Jinxiu could lose her cool like this?" Kaneda quipped, a soft laugh undercutting his words.

    "Spare me the games," she shot back, her voice sharp. "My frustration is just a reflection of the problem we''re facing. And let¡¯s not forget¡ªyou¡¯re the one who came to me for help."

    "I know," Kaneda admitted, the line falling silent for a moment. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke again. "But I¡¯m out of ideas. I have nothing else left."

    Jinxiu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she leaned back in her chair. "Then you''d better start thinking, Kaneda. This isn''t some minor inconvenience we can sweep under the rug. If we fail to contain the symbiote, the entire region could fall into chaos."

    "You don''t think I know that?" Kaneda snapped, his frustration finally breaking through. "I¡¯m grasping at straws here. Thiago might be our last shot, but even that feels like throwing a pebble at a tidal wave."

    "And if Thiago fails?" she asked pointedly.

    Kaneda hesitated. "Then we move to the final option."

    Jinxiu¡¯s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "The warhead?"

    He nodded grimly. "If the serum can''t neutralize her, and if there¡¯s no chance of reasoning with her, we may have no other choice."

    Jinxiu¡¯s gaze hardened. "You realize the fallout of such an action, don''t you? Politically, environmentally¡­ we¡¯d be branded as monsters ourselves."

    "And if we don¡¯t act, we¡¯ll be dealing with something far worse than bad press," Kaneda countered. "This isn¡¯t about public perception. It¡¯s about survival."

    The room was silent for a moment, the weight of their decisions pressing down on them both.

    Jinxiu finally spoke, her tone colder than before. "Fine. We proceed with Thiago. But if he fails, Kaneda, you¡¯d better be prepared to push that button. And pray we can live with the consequences."

    Kaneda¡¯s voice was hollow. "Living with it might not even be an option."

    <hr>

    Cinthia was barely holding herself together, forcing a fa?ade of confidence that felt more fragile with each passing second. Meanwhile, Raven didn¡¯t even try to mask her hollow stare. Her eyes were unfocused, gazing into nothing as if the weight of reality was too much to bear. She had seen two of her closest chooms die¡ªone of whom she had already mourned once before.

    Cinthia didn¡¯t share the same deep bond with everyone in The Refused, but Raven? She was their heart, their glue, the one who kept them all moving toward a shared dream. To watch her friends die like that, comrades united by a singular purpose, had shattered something vital inside her.

    Now, Raven was little more than a husk, consumed by grief so heavy it left her barely functioning.

    ¡°Raven?¡± Cinthia¡¯s voice was tentative as she stepped closer, her concern outweighing her fear.

    No response came. Only the faint, broken sound of Raven¡¯s soft sobs.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Cinthia muttered, her frustration bubbling over.

    Her mind raced, trying to piece together the events, the chaos, the destruction. She traced it back¡ªhow it all started, where it went wrong, when it all slipped beyond repair. And, at the center of it all, one name kept surfacing.

    Vomi.

    She was the cause of everything. The reason so many were dead. The reason the corporations got involved. The reason The Refused were falling apart. The reason San Francisco had turned into this hellhole. The weight of it all twisted inside Cinthia, turning to hate. Raven had been so eager to help, to cling to some semblance of hope, but Cinthia was all Raven had left now. Their parents were gone, and they had no other family. Why should they offer any help to someone who had only brought ruin into their lives? Death, destruction, innocents caught in the crossfire...

    They arrived at the PD again. Oddly enough, the cops seemed unusually receptive to them. Questions flew, and the pressure mounted.

    ¡°Did you manage to kill the monster?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the other guy?¡±

    ¡°Are we safe now? Can I go home? See my family?¡±

    Before the barrage of questions could continue, Frank¡¯s voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. ¡°Enough! Let them rest, and then we¡¯ll ask the questions.¡±

    The siblings were escorted to a private room. They hadn¡¯t been harmed, but with the civilians crowding the area, it was the perfect excuse to keep them away and offer some semblance of privacy.

    Inside the room, the door was carefully closed behind them, shutting out the noise and chaos from the outside. The sterile atmosphere of the room did little to ease the tension. Cinthia paced back and forth, her mind racing with the weight of everything that had happened. Raven sat silently, still in shock, her eyes glazed over as she tried to process the losses.

    Cinthia finally stopped, looking at her sister with a mixture of concern and frustration. ¡°Raven, we can¡¯t keep going like this,¡± she said softly, though her words carried an urgency. ¡°We need a plan. We need to figure out what to do next.¡±

    Raven didn''t respond right away, her eyes staring into space as if lost in her own thoughts. Then, barely above a whisper, she muttered, "I don''t even know who we are anymore."

    Cinthia clenched her fists. ¡°We¡¯re still us. We¡¯re still family, and we still have each other. We¡¯ll get through this, I promise.¡± She took a step closer, her voice softer now. "But we can''t let it destroy us, Raven. We need to fight back."

    "Fight back?" Raven laughed bitterly, her voice laced with despair. "Against what? That thing? How? Tell me how."

    Before Cinthia could respond, the door creaked open, and Frank stepped inside. Cinthia nearly screamed but managed to clamp her mouth shut just in time.

    Frank didn¡¯t look well. His face was pale, his posture stiff, and his hands trembled faintly. He tried to hide it, but the strain was obvious. ¡°Girls,¡± he began, his voice low and hesitant. ¡°Where is Nieme?¡±

    The question hung in the air like a blade. The silence that followed was all the answer he needed.

    Frank''s hands trembled harder now, but his expression remained stoic. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Raven whispered, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be,¡± Frank said, shaking his head slowly. ¡°He made his choice.¡±

    ¡°Everything went wrong,¡± Cinthia snapped, her tone cutting through the room like glass. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for his damn rush, we might¡¯ve succeeded.¡±

    ¡°Cinthia, please¡­¡± Raven began, her voice pleading.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®Cinthia please¡¯ me!¡± Cinthia erupted, her entire demeanor flipping from fearful to furious. ¡°I am sick of this! Sick of the indecision, the gonk mistakes, the stupid judgment calls, and the constant rushing into situations we¡¯re not ready for! Look where it¡¯s gotten us! Look at what¡¯s happened!¡±

    Raven recoiled, shocked by the intensity of her sister''s outburst. For the first time since it all began, something broke through her grief, leaving her questioning everything they¡¯d done up to this point.

    ¡°And where¡¯s Thiago?¡± Cinthia asked suddenly, her voice sharp. ¡°I didn¡¯t see him on the couch.¡±

    Frank¡¯s grimace deepened. ¡°He left.¡±

    ¡°Left? What do you mean, left?¡± Raven asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

    ¡°He went toward Vomi¡¯s location,¡± Frank admitted, his voice heavy. ¡°Took his daughter with him.¡±

    ¡°He what?!¡± Cinthia''s face twisted in disbelief. ¡°Is he insane? What the actual fuck?!?¡±

    Her fury exploded as she punched the wall with all her might. The sound echoed in the small room, but it did little to ease her exasperation. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, her knuckles throbbing, her mind racing. Nothing about this felt right. Nothing ever had.

    Frank rubbed his temples, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stop him. You know how Thiago is. He thinks this is something only he can fix.¡±

    ¡°With his daughter in tow?!¡± Cinthia spat, pacing the room. ¡°That¡¯s not bravery; that¡¯s stupidity! He¡¯s walking straight into a massacre, and he¡¯s dragging a kid into it too!¡±

    Raven, still trembling, tried to regain her voice. ¡°He thinks Vomi might recognize him¡­ that it could bring her back.¡±

    ¡°Bring her back?!¡± Cinthia¡¯s laugh was harsh, bitter. ¡°There¡¯s no bringing back whatever¡¯s left of her, Raven! Vomi is gone! You saw it, I saw it, Frank saw it! What¡¯s left is a monster that doesn¡¯t care who it kills!¡±

    Raven¡¯s lips quivered, but she didn¡¯t respond. Her grief and guilt swirled together, choking her.

    Frank stepped in, his voice firm but tired. ¡°Cinthia, I know you¡¯re angry¡ª¡±

    ¡°Angry?¡± Cinthia snapped, her eyes blazing with intensity. ¡°Frank, I¡¯m beyond angry. I¡¯m furious, I¡¯m heartbroken, and I¡¯m fucking terrified! We¡¯re dying, one by one, for this! And for what?!¡±

    ¡°For hope,¡± Frank said quietly, his tone steady but tired.

    ¡°Hope?¡± Cinthia scoffed, shaking her head in bitter disbelief. ¡°What hope, Frank? Do you honestly believe there¡¯s anything left to save? Or are we just chasing ghosts?¡±

    Frank didn¡¯t respond immediately. He looked down, his jaw tightening. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But if we give up now¡­ then what? What¡¯s left for us?¡±

    ¡°Corpses,¡± she shot back without hesitation.

    Frank¡¯s face twitched, but he didn¡¯t argue.

    Have these people ever heard of common sense? Cinthia thought angrily.

    Before the silence could stretch too far, Raven¡¯s agent buzzed, a sharp interruption to the tension. Her golden eyes flickered as she glanced down at it. The familiar name flashed across her HUD: Graves.

    Raven didn¡¯t even get a chance to say anything before his voice came through, hurried and desperate. ¡°Did you succeed in using the serum?¡±

    Her heart sank, the question cutting deeper than she expected. She hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily. ¡°No. We failed.¡±

    The reaction was immediate¡ªand alarming. Her head throbbed with sudden pressure as the connection glitched violently, static and garbled noise invading her senses. Raven staggered slightly, clutching her temple as the call continued, though the interference made it feel invasive and unnatural.

    Then, just as quickly, the noise cleared, replaced by an image that made her blood run cold.

    It wasn¡¯t the usual stylized virtual face Graves used during calls. Instead, her agent displayed a live feed: a starkly lit room with Graves on his knees, his hands bound. Behind him stood an armed squad, weapons drawn, their intent clear. In the foreground stood Miranda, his expression grim and her stance rigid. He held a gun in one hand, his focus unflinching as she stared down at Graves like a predator savoring the final moment before a kill.

    Cinthia¡¯s pacing halted abruptly as she noticed Raven¡¯s wide-eyed stare. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Raven didn¡¯t answer immediately. She just stared at the feed, a sinking dread pooling in her stomach.

    Miranda finally spoke, his voice sharp and cutting through the call. ¡°Well, Raven, it seems your team¡¯s incompetence has reached its peak. Care to explain how you managed to fail this time?¡±

    Cinthia leaned closer, catching sight of the feed over Raven¡¯s shoulder as she connected to the call. Her breath hitched as she took in the scene. ¡°What the hell is this?¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Miranda barked, his cold eyes locking onto the camera. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in your excuses. I¡¯m interested in results. And since you couldn¡¯t deliver, it seems Graves will be paying the price for your failure.¡±

    Raven¡¯s voice shook as she found the courage to speak. ¡°Wait¡ªthis isn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    BANG

    ¡°Save it,¡± Miranda interrupted harshly. ¡°You had your chance. Now it¡¯s time to clean up the mess you¡¯ve made. And don¡¯t think I won¡¯t be keeping an eye on every one of you.¡±

    The feed cut abruptly, leaving Raven and Cinthia staring at the blank screen in stunned silence. Frank, who had been watching from a distance, stepped forward, his expression grim.

    ¡°What the hell just happened?¡± he asked, his voice low.

    Raven looked up at him, her face pale. ¡°I don''t know.¡±

 Chapter 36: In The End (Volume 1 End)

    The symbiote loomed over the man, claws poised mid-air, their jagged edges inches from tearing him apart. Yet, they didn''t strike. Something gave them pause, an almost imperceptible tug from the host''s fragmented mind. Their claws retracted slightly, their blackened form rippling as they analyzed the figure before them.

    The scent was familiar. The face, too. Recognition flickered in the void¡ªa faint echo of something buried deep. He was carrying a child, and the host stirred faintly at the sight. The symbiote hesitated, scanning the two with an otherworldly gaze, processing fragmented memories. The host''s mind screamed one directive:

    Do not harm. Never harm them.

    The man held the child protectively, his free hand gently covering her face, shielding her from the horror in front of them. Both their eyes betrayed terror, yet the man stood his ground.

    Charred pieces of the symbiote''s flesh fell away in clumps, blackened and brittle. The regenerative process had been slow, excruciating, as fire was something they hadn''t yet fully adapted to. But the black flesh gave way to its usual purple hue, a signal that their body was nearing full health once again.

    It was crucial. They needed every ounce of strength for what came next. Too many threats. Too many enemies. Too much attention. The plan was clear: retreat, recover, adapt. Hiding would buy them time¡ªa few weeks, months, maybe a year¡ªuntil the world stopped hunting them relentlessly. Only then could they reemerge.

    "Vomi?" the man called softly, his voice trembling but steady enough to cut through the symbiote''s haze.

    The name stirred something. A ghost of familiarity, of identity. The symbiote''s movements stilled, their gaze locking onto his face. They circled him slowly, curious, assessing. He didn''t move. His gaze remained fixed on a point ahead, refusing to follow their predatory movements.

    It was a calculated act of submission¡ªno sudden movements, no show of force. His posture practically screamed, I''m not a threat.

    Good. At least one of the host''s associates had some sense. He was unarmed, powerless, presenting himself in the weakest, least confrontational manner possible.

    "Look," the man said again, voice tight with the effort of keeping his fear in check. "I know you''re still in there. Somewhere. I... I''m here. Just know that, alright?"

    His voice wavered on the last word, trembling despite his best efforts. The symbiote didn''t respond, their alien gaze fixed on him with an unreadable intensity. The only sound in the room was the faint dripping of viscous fluid from their regenerating form.

    The child stirred in his arms, and the man instinctively adjusted his grip, pulling her closer.

    Somewhere deep inside the monstrous hive mind, the host stirred.

    Vomi stirred.

    But no words came. Only silence.

    "I''m fine, see?" the man said, gesturing toward himself in a calming manner. "It''s me, Thiago."

    That name.

    The symbiote froze again, claws retracting slightly as it faltered, its gaze flickering with an unplaceable emotion. The name stirred something buried deep¡ªa memory the hive mind couldn¡¯t fully suppress. Vomi¡¯s memories. Fragmented and unclear, but there nonetheless.

    First, the faint recollection of their initial meeting: Thiago¡¯s face after a grueling day of ¡°work¡± on HuscleNet, a rare moment of connection amid her exhaustion. Then, the flash of violence¡ªthe attack by the Black Daggers, a chaotic blur of fear and fury. That memory was the sharpest, the most recent.

    And then, one final thread: a hazy moment when Vomi briefly regained her senses, her voice hoarse as she answered a call. Thiago. That call had been from him.

    From the tangled web of memories, one thought rose to the surface: He is alive.

    The symbiote¡¯s posture shifted, claws and tendrils retreating into their flesh, merging into the humanoid form once more. Their breathing slowed as their body fully healed, the last remnants of charred tissue regenerating into smooth, resilient flesh. The transformation left them still, a quiet figure sitting on the ground.

    Their white hair fell across their face, a curtain shielding them from the world. They didn¡¯t look at Thiago. Didn¡¯t look at the child. Didn¡¯t look at anything.

    For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the symbiote wavered. A faint whimper escaped, almost inaudible, and then came the tears. They fell silently, unstoppable, as the overwhelming weight of emotions¡ªpain, confusion, and something bordering on regret¡ªcrashed over them. Even the hive mind couldn¡¯t suppress it.

    The monster wept.

    ¡°There, there,¡± Thiago said gently, giving a few tentative pats on the symbiote¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Just¡­ know that I¡¯ll be here. Alright?¡±

    He lowered himself to the ground, sitting beside the monster. He didn¡¯t say anything else, didn¡¯t try to force any more words. He simply sat there, his presence quiet and steady. Watching. Perhaps comforting.

    The child clung to him, her wide eyes fixed on the symbiote with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Despite her terror, she couldn¡¯t ignore the profound sense of loneliness emanating from the creature. It was unmistakable, even to someone her age.

    Katie¡¯s small mind wrestled with the strange reality before her. How would anyone react, put in the same position as Vomi? Would they lose themselves completely, spiraling into chaos and destruction? Or would they hide their crumbling psyche behind hollow smiles and distant farewells?

    The monster had caused so much death, pain, and suffering. Yet, despite that, Katie felt a spark of something unexpected¡ªempathy. Not because the symbiote¡¯s actions were forgivable, but because she sensed that maybe, just maybe, Vomi was just as afraid of herself as everyone else was.

    ¡°Don¡¯t cry,¡± Katie said softly, her voice trembling. She wiped at her own tears, streaking her freckled face. ¡°When everything feels scary and dark¡­ just try to remember the happy days. That¡¯s what I do.¡±

    Her small words hung in the air, fragile yet sincere.

    Thiago hummed softly, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. ¡°You know, you sound just like your mom right now.¡±

    Katie nodded, her gaze still fixed on Vomi. ¡°Mom always knew what to say,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I figured¡­ maybe she needs it too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Thiago agreed, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Silence settled over them again, broken occasionally by the soft, uneven sobs of the symbiote. After a while, the creature curled into a fetal position, their head resting on the ground, hair a chaotic tangle spilling across the floor. The sight, oddly vulnerable, drew a faint giggle from Katie, quickly echoed by Thiago.

    Minutes passed, and finally, the symbiote drifted into a restless sleep¡ªtheir first real moment of peace in what felt like an eternity. Thiago hesitated, his hand hovering above the symbiote¡¯s head before gently resting it on their scalp. He stroked the white strands lightly, his touch careful, unsure. To his surprise, their faint, steady breathing was almost¡­ calming.

    His eyes shifted to the serum, lying untouched on the other side of the room. The air was heavy with biomass, a grim reminder of what Vomi had become. But Thiago stayed where he was, his hand still on her head.

    The last thing Vomi needs right now is another betrayal.

    Time stretched in the quiet room, the dim light casting soft shadows over the unlikely trio. Thiago continued to gently stroke Vomi''s hair, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to disturb a fragile truce. Katie had tucked herself into his side, her small arms wrapped around his waist.

    ¡°Dad?¡± Katie whispered, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Yeah, kiddo?¡± Thiago murmured, his voice low so as not to wake Vomi.

    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s still¡­ y¡¯know, in there? The real Vomi?¡±

    He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting to the sleeping symbiote. For a moment, he didn¡¯t answer, the weight of the question settling heavily on his shoulders.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted finally. ¡°I hope so. I really do. But even if she is¡­ I think she¡¯s lost, Katie. Lost in whatever this¡­ thing has turned her into.¡±

    Katie looked up at him, her green eyes searching his face. ¡°Do you think we can help her find her way back?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said again, his voice heavy with uncertainty. ¡°But we can try. Sometimes that¡¯s all you can do.¡±

    They fell into silence once more, Katie¡¯s question lingering in the air. Thiago¡¯s thoughts churned, memories of Vomi flashing through his mind¡ªthe sharp, confident woman she used to be, so full of life and determination. He wanted to believe she was still in there somewhere, trapped beneath the layers of violence and chaos the symbiote had wrought.

    But even hope felt fragile now, like trying to hold water in his hands.

    Across the room, the serum gleamed faintly under the dim light, a cruel reminder of the impossible choice he faced. Could it save her? Or would it destroy what little was left of her humanity?

    He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze away from the vial. For now, he would stay here, beside her. Whatever came next, he¡¯d face it when the time came.

    For now, Vomi deserved this one moment of peace.

    <hr>

    Antonio Miranda handed his pistol to one of his guards with a sharp gesture. "Dispose of the body immediately."

    Graves had long been a thorn in his side. The only reason he had survived this long was his involvement in the Blackwall research¡ªa project that, ironically, only saw progress because of Vomi, the very individual who was now the source of everyone''s worst headaches. Miranda had been waiting for the right moment to cut him loose, fed up with what he saw as a pattern of reckless incompetence.

    Take the Cyberdeck heist, for example. A straightforward operation: send in a covert squad with stolen gang tech, mask their involvement, and leave no traces pointing back to Militech. It should have been simple¡ªa clean, professional job.

    How-fucking-ever, Graves had insisted on hiring mercenaries, bringing in outsiders, and worse, involving Vomi and her crew. It was the dumbest move imaginable. Even the most half-witted detective could smell the shit if it was dumped in an open litter box. Add Vomi''s already-flagged symbiotic DNA into the mix, and Graves had single-handedly turned a low-risk operation into a citywide disaster.

    Miranda exhaled sharply, the anger simmering beneath his composed exterior. "Graves thought he was untouchable," he muttered as the guards hauled the body away. "Turns out he was just in the way."

    Turning back to his desk, Miranda eyed the encrypted terminal. San Francisco was burning, but the chaos wasn¡¯t entirely without merit. Now, all he needed was the right leverage to turn this mess to his advantage. Even if it meant piling more bodies on top of Graves¡¯.

    The question wasn¡¯t if they could act¡ªit was how.

    What could anyone realistically do against something like this?

    The data on the symbiote''s biomass was both fascinating and terrifying. Its ability to adapt to external stimuli meant that traditional methods of killing it were all but impossible. Any attempt to destroy it would need to work on a cellular or atomic level, erasing every fiber of its existence. But achieving that without catastrophic collateral damage? That was the rub.

    Methods capable of such precision and devastation usually came at a cost: mass destruction. The legacy of Chernobyl was proof enough¡ªan entire city rendered uninhabitable for over a century. And Miranda didn¡¯t have a nuclear warhead or an equally powerful explosive at his disposal.

    Containment was the only viable option. But to confine the monster, they needed to incapacitate it first. How? The idea gnawed at Miranda. A sleeping agent seemed the most plausible¡ªsomething so potent it could induce unconsciousness in the symbiote, maybe even kill it outright. If it worked, they¡¯d win either way.

    ¡°Sir?¡± A scientist entered the room, escorted by a guard. ¡°Do you have any directives?¡±

    Miranda turned to him sharply. ¡°Is the symbiote vulnerable to sedatives?¡±

    The scientist hesitated before answering. ¡°It wasn¡¯t entirely resistant in our tests, but¡­¡±

    ¡°But what?¡± Miranda pressed, his voice low and dangerous.

    The scientist adjusted his glasses, clearly nervous under Miranda''s gaze. "The symbiote metabolizes foreign substances at an accelerated rate. Even the strongest sedatives we tested only managed to slow it down for a few minutes before it recovered completely."

    Miranda narrowed his eyes. "And how much of the sedative did you use in those tests?"

    "A lethal dose for a human¡ªseveral times over, in fact. Anything stronger might compromise the host entirely, assuming she''s still¡­ well, there."

    Miranda snorted derisively. "Compromise? We''re well past worrying about her safety. If it means taking her out, I don¡¯t care if the host doesn¡¯t survive."

    The scientist hesitated, then continued. "We do have a prototype compound. It''s designed to suppress neural activity on a broad spectrum, effectively forcing even the most resilient organisms into a coma¡­¡± He trailed off, his words being slower.

    "What?" Miranda''s patience was fraying.

    "It hasn¡¯t been fully tested. The side effects are unpredictable, especially on something as unique as the symbiote. It could work, or it could trigger a violent reaction we can¡¯t control."

    Miranda leaned back, considering. The risk was high, but inaction wasn¡¯t an option. The symbiote was a walking apocalypse waiting to happen. If this prototype had even a fraction of a chance to work, it was worth pursuing.

    "Prepare the compound," Miranda ordered. "Double the dosage. And find me a way to deliver it directly into the creature¡¯s bloodstream. I don¡¯t care if we have to shove it down her throat or shoot it into her with a projectile launcher¡ªmake it happen."

    The scientist nodded, though his face betrayed unease. As he turned to leave, Miranda called after him.

    "And one more thing," Miranda said coldly. "Make sure it¡¯s ready to deploy immediately. No excuses, no delays. If this thing slips through our fingers again, it won¡¯t just be our careers on the line. It''ll be everything."

    The scientist swallowed hard and hurried out of the room, leaving Miranda alone with his thoughts. He glanced at the window, where the sunlight stretched endlessly over San Francisco¡¯s skyline.

    It wasn¡¯t just the symbiote who needs to keep adapting.

    <hr>

    The tracking system had been active for a while but recently went offline without explanation. Sasha didn''t know why, and the uncertainty was beginning to gnaw at her.

    "You nova back there?" Falco asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

    The van was anything but quiet. Pilar and Rebecca were mid-argument over a package they''d secured, each blaming the other for some perceived mistake. Dorio was doing her best to calm them down, while Kiwi and Maine stayed out of it entirely¡ªeither amused or simply too bored to intervene.

    Sasha shut off the HUD on her agent and met Falco''s gaze in the mirror. "Got a call earlier today. Some chooms needed help with a problem, but... they''ve gone dark ever since."

    "Well," Falco replied dryly, "if it''s distracting you from these two clowns, I''d say you''re lucky."

    Pilar let out a strangled noise as Dorio, evidently done with the nonsense, locked him into a neck hold.

    "That''s what you get, you mini-studd potato!" Rebecca howled, practically doubled over with laughter.

    "Fuck off!" Pilar gasped, struggling as Dorio''s grip tightened. "Gah!"

    "Keep running your mouth, and I''ll crush this deep throat neck of yours," Dorio muttered, the menace in her voice so casual it was chilling.

    "Point is," Falco continued, ignoring the chaos behind him, "you''ve been a bit zoned out since we left the workshop. Wanna share, or is this a solo gig?"

    "Don''t ask questions like that," Kiwi sighed, her voice as monotone as ever. "Personal stuff stays personal.¡±

    "True," Falco conceded, "but sometimes a little help doesn''t hurt." His calm, cordial tone cut through the commotion like a knife.

    He was easily the most composed person in the van.

    Which, given the circumstances, wasn''t saying much.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll try calling them. You guys preem with that?¡± Sasha asked as she opened her agent, her eyes glowing faint gold.

    ¡°Feel free,¡± Maine replied, his attention shifting to the street now that the siblings had finally quieted down.

    ¡°If Maine¡¯s fine with it¡­¡± Rebecca smirked mischievously. ¡°Go ahead, Mittens. Call your crush.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not my crush,¡± Sasha said, though the knowing smirk on her face said otherwise. ¡°Although, I wouldn¡¯t mind¡­¡±

    ¡°See?¡± Rebecca gestured wildly at Sasha, turning to the rest of the crew. ¡°Told you she swings both ways!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly our business,¡± Falco interjected, shaking his head. But the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed his words.

    Ignoring the banter, Sasha dialed Nieme¡¯s number. The call didn¡¯t connect¡ªnot surprising, considering San Francisco¡¯s notoriously bad service. She tried again. And again.

    Still nothing.

    Then, on her final attempt, the agent displayed a message that made her stomach drop: The number you are trying to reach does not exist.

    Wait. What?

    Sasha stared at the screen, her golden eyes dimming slightly. That message couldn¡¯t be right. She checked the number again, making sure she hadn¡¯t made some gonk mistake. Nope, it was Nieme¡¯s number.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Maine asked, noticing her hesitation.

    ¡°The number¡¯s¡­ gone,¡± Sasha muttered, frowning.

    ¡°Gone?¡± Dorio leaned forward, brow furrowed. ¡°Like disconnected or what?¡±

    ¡°It says it doesn¡¯t exist anymore.¡± Sasha¡¯s voice was calm, though her knuckles tightened.

    ¡°Maybe they just went dark. Happens,¡± Kiwi said flatly, eyes still glued to her own device.

    ¡°Dark or dead,¡± Rebecca quipped, folding her arms. ¡°Could be either.¡±

    Sasha shot her a sharp glare, but before she could say anything, Falco cleared his throat, cutting through the tension.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions,¡± Falco said evenly. ¡°San Francisco¡¯s grid is a mess right now. Could just be a system glitch.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Sasha muttered, though her voice carried little belief. She¡¯d dealt with plenty of glitches, but this? This didn¡¯t feel like one.

    Maine leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. ¡°Try calling someone else. You¡¯ve got their numbers, right?¡±

    Sasha hesitated before nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    Scrolling through her contacts, she settled on Raven¡¯s number. After a few failed attempts, the call finally connected.

    ¡°Yes...?¡±

    The voice on the other end was raw, cracked with emotion. It stopped Sasha in her tracks. That was the kind of tone that came from someone who¡¯d been crying¡ªhard.

    Her stomach sank. Had she called at the wrong time? Or worse... had something happened?

    ¡°Raven? What happened? Is everything alright?¡± Sasha asked, her tone sharpening with concern.

    ¡°No, everything¡¯s gone to shit,¡± came a voice¡ªCinthia¡¯s. She¡¯d taken over the call, likely because Raven wasn¡¯t in any shape to speak.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Nieme¡¯s dead. Blaze came back just to die again. And now, Thiago¡¯s gone to find Vomi¡ªwith his kid,¡± Cinthia explained bluntly.

    ¡°He what?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Frank chimed in, his disapproval practically dripping through the call, though his frown wasn¡¯t visible. ¡°Apparently, he thinks that¡¯s the best thing he can do right now.¡±

    Sasha exhaled sharply, her hand running through her hair. ¡°Does he even realize how dangerous that is? Vomi¡¯s not¡ªshe¡¯s not Vomi anymore. You all know that!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve tried reasoning with him,¡± Frank said, his voice tight. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t listen. Said he needed to ¡®help her¡¯ or some noble nonsense like that.¡±

    ¡°Noble? It¡¯s suicidal!¡± Sasha snapped, pacing in the confined space of the van. The rest of the crew exchanged looks but stayed quiet, sensing the gravity of the situation.

    ¡°Tell me something I don¡¯t know,¡± Cinthia muttered bitterly. ¡°But the guy¡¯s already gone, and he took his kid with him. So, yeah, we¡¯re kinda out of options here.¡±

    Sasha clenched her fists, trying to keep her thoughts in order. ¡°Where did he go? Do you at least know that?¡±

    Frank hesitated. ¡°He''s heading directly towards where the girls just came back.¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± Sasha whispered. ¡°If he finds her¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªwe don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll make it back,¡± Frank finished grimly.

    ¡°Shit. I¡ªI can¡¯t do much from here. I mean¡­ I want to, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°We appreciate it, really,¡± Raven replied, her voice steadier now as she wiped her face, the tears finally subsiding. ¡°But there¡¯s nothing anyone can do right now. I¡¯m not leaving the PD.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve come to your senses,¡± Cinthia muttered, her words laced with bitterness, loud enough for everyone to hear. ¡°There¡¯s no saving that monster. All she¡¯s brought is misfortune.¡±

    ¡°All we can do is let the corpos handle it,¡± Frank added, his voice tinged with defeat. ¡°If they win, I lose my badge, end up paying for a funeral, and go looking for a job that barely covers rent. Perfect outcomes all around¡­¡± He shook his head, turning to leave.

    Sasha heard the door click shut as Frank walked out, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    The van, once filled with its usual chaotic energy, suddenly grew grim. Even Pilar, who was typically all over the place, fell quiet and focused on the conversation. That alone was a rarity, and it spoke volumes. Dorio and Maine, both usually calm in tense situations, shared a look, their concern palpable. Maine, in particular, was feeling the weight of it, his background in the military making him acutely aware of how helpless the situation seemed. San Francisco was a world away, and no one could do anything to help with the mess Sasha''s friends were stuck in.

    ¡°C-YA, Sasha. Get eddies for something,¡± Raven said, waving off the call.

    The joke flew right over Sasha¡¯s head, but it still carried a sense of weight, however small.

    As her eyes returned to their usual color, the silence in the van felt heavier than it ever had before.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Pilar started, looking toward Dorio, ¡°Can you¡­ you know¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Dorio finally let go of Pilar, releasing him from the stranglehold that had lasted what felt like an eternity.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get the full BD, but¡­ fuck, choom. That¡¯s messed up,¡± Pilar muttered, rubbing his sore neck.

    ¡°Yeah. Not being able to do anything?¡± Rebecca frowned, her tone grim. ¡°Tough luck.¡±

    The air in the van thickened with an uncomfortable tension. Everyone was quiet, processing the weight of the situation. Pilar fidgeted in his seat, trying to shake off the uncomfortable silence with a half-hearted attempt at humor.

    ¡°Could be worse, right?¡± Pilar said, forcing a grin. ¡°At least we¡¯re not stuck in San Francisco with those corpo assholes chasing us down.¡±

    Nobody laughed.

    Maine was the first to speak, his voice low and serious. ¡°Look kid, there''s nothing anyone could do. ¡®Only thing is hope for the best, and that you chose the right side.¡±

    Dorio, being the realist, shook her head. ¡°We¡¯ve been picked apart before once. Situations like this can''t be solved with just desire. Hope might not be enough, although there isn''t really anything else to do.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s gaze drifted toward the city skyline outside the van window. The familiar buildings and lights that once felt like home now seemed distant, foreign. Like something she couldn¡¯t reach anymore.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe,¡± she muttered, her voice tinged with resignation. ¡°Maybe I just wait for it all to fall apart.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that,¡± Dorio shot back quickly. ¡°It¡¯s not over until it¡¯s over. They will fight, no matter how hopeless it feels.¡±

    Sasha didn¡¯t respond. She wasn¡¯t sure what there was left to fight for anymore. Her friends were scattered, and the corpo machine was coming down on them like a hammer. It felt like the walls were closing in, and all she could do was wait for the impact.

    "Just¡­ get us where we need to go," Sasha said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

    The van rumbled to life, its engine humming as it pulled away, heading into the insides of Night City.

    <hr>

    Hebert Uchoa

    The Black Daggers took a breather, running a diagnostic on their current ops. Hebert? Just a grunt in the big data flow of things. But he was in the heart of Dagger territory, the main hideout, tuning into the high-level chatter. The district leaders were arguing, their voices scrambled in static, all hyped up over the monster that¡¯d been putting their crews on the slab.

    Thing was, they weren¡¯t even the only players in the game¡ªZoom Hunters, for example, ran their own grind. But no, the beast only cared about dropping them.

    Just nova.

    ¡°How the fuck does that bourgie keep running circles around us!?¡± one of the leaders barked, slamming his chrome fist on the table. ¡°Shit¡¯s been going full black ice since we zeroed those poserboy rocker punks!¡±

    ¡°Got worse with those bridge nomads,¡± another chimed in, his tone more cold-process than the rest. ¡°They¡¯re packing serious fireworks. We¡¯re bleeding eddies and bodies.¡±

    ¡°And now we¡¯ve got Deckheads getting flatlined left and right, and somehow, none of you gonk-edged clowns can give me one solid plan to off this JoyToy nightmare? Seriously?¡± The last leader leaned back in his chair, chrome talons dragging against the desk in frustration. ¡°This sitch is a full fragstorm, and you¡¯re all just spinning your wheels.¡±

    Hebert sat quiet, head low, trying not to draw heat. The room reeked of desperation, and for good reason. Nobody had a clue what to do¡ªeither too scared to take the fall for a bad call or too braindanced to offer anything useful. Didn¡¯t matter. The whole crew felt like meat puppets, wired up and useless. Tackling a monster like that? Not even the corpos with their deep stacks and black-budget tech had managed to zero it.

    The Black Daggers¡¯ ELSUR had the receipts: trained squads, armed to flatline full Metalhead Psychos, wiped out in seconds. And the JoyToy? Seemed to get sharper, deadlier, every time someone tried to slot her.

    Hebert couldn¡¯t help but wonder if these leaders weren¡¯t just rusted-out relics, too soft and shiny from slurping corpo handouts to see they¡¯d been played.

    ¡°Boss, someone flicked us some deets,¡± a random gonk muttered, his optics flaring blue¡ªdata streaming through his agent. ¡°The Toy¡¯s¡­ sleeping? Wait, what the actual fuck?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The central leader shot up from his seat, his chrome hand gripping the edge of the table. ¡°Send it over. Now.¡±

    Everyone¡¯s optics, including Hebert¡¯s, lit up in sync. The file opened¡ªa live feed straight from the HzBleet office. The cam was half-obscured by that weird black tar slathered over everything, but enough of the scene was visible: a guy and a kid sitting near the monster, who was¡ªno shit¡ªsleeping. Sleeping and crying.

    The room went silent, the bizarre imagery scrambling everyone¡¯s heads. It was¡­ surreal. A monster¡ªsomething that had been flatlining their best hitters like cheap gonk mercs¡ªreduced to a fetal, sobbing heap. It was baffling, unsettling, and, most importantly, they thought this was a golden slot of opportunity, one they could not and wouldn''t refuse.

    Keyword: thought.

    ¡°Rally everyone,¡± the main leader barked, his tone electric. ¡°Everything we¡¯ve got¡ªSCOPs, meat, solos, all of it. If it¡¯s breathing, it¡¯s fighting.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ everyone?¡± the gonk asked, his voice cracking.

    ¡°EVERYONE!¡±

    That roar lit the fuse. The room erupted into chaos, every ganger shouting over each other, hyped at the prospect of doing what the corpos couldn¡¯t: flatlining the monster. They were already buzzing about cred payouts, big corpo chips, maybe even getting their names etched into some chrome history.

    Hebert stood back, hand brushing against his iron, tempted to ride the wave of enthusiasm. But his gut churned. Whole squads had gotten zeroed like they were nothing, wiped clean. Hundreds of bodies strong? Sure. But the monster had been painting their hideouts red for the past day and night, only stopping thirty minutes ago. No one had even scraped the edge of her capabilities.

    This wasn¡¯t just about firepower. They were blind, charging into the maw of something that could outthink, outgun, and outlast them. Still, if¡ªif¡ªthey managed to zero her, it wouldn¡¯t just be about eddies. This could push them beyond creds, beyond street cred.

    This could make them legends.

    ¡°Edgerunners¡­¡± Hebert muttered under his breath, a flicker of ambition sparking in his eyes. ¡°Yeah¡­ I could work with that.¡±

    <hr>

    Thiago and Katie had been sitting near Vomi for what felt like hours. Vomi remained asleep¡ªnot crying or twitching this time, just resting in a peaceful, almost childlike state. Seeing a grown woman sleep like that was¡­ odd, to say the least, bordering on comical. But Katie, initially grossed out by Vomi¡¯s monstrous appearance, had begun to soften. She¡¯d even started petting Vomi¡¯s head gently, mimicking what her father had been doing before he stopped. Thiago, meanwhile, paced anxiously across the room, his boots making soft thuds against the partially exposed floor. The strange black biomass that had coated everything earlier was retreating, inching back toward Vomi¡¯s unconscious form, as if it was being reabsorbed.

    Thiago had taken a moment to call Raven and the others, letting them know he and Katie were alive¡ªand that Vomi seemed calm.

    ¡°How are you even alive?¡± Cinthia¡¯s voice was sharp with disbelief and frustration.

    ¡°No clue,¡± Thiago admitted with a sigh. ¡°But I hate to say ¡®I told you so,¡¯ even though¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way to prove your presence alone made any difference,¡± she cut him off, her tone icy. ¡°And seriously? You¡¯re giving us the ¡®I told you so¡¯ treatment? Have you forgotten about Heitor? Nieme? Blaze?¡±

    Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. Thiago fell silent, staring at the floor as guilt twisted in his chest. He didn¡¯t want to think about it, but the truth was impossible to escape. No amount of mental gymnastics could justify what Vomi had done. She was still responsible for the chaos, for the death of their friends.

    And no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, the weight of it all was crushing. Heitor, Nieme, Blaze¡ªthey were gone, and nothing he said or did could change that.

    The bodies now lay lifeless on the floor, the last traces of black biomass retreating into Vomi¡¯s form. The sight was harrowing, and Thiago felt his breath hitch in his throat. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to take more than a fleeting glance.

    ¡°Dear God¡­¡± His voice barely escaped as a whisper. The state of the bodies was worse than he¡¯d feared.

    ¡°Get the hell away from that thing,¡± Cinthia warned sharply through the call, her voice trembling with anger and fear. ¡°Who knows what¡¯ll happen when it wakes up.¡±

    Before Thiago could reply, the line went dead. She¡¯d ended the call herself.

    He turned to Katie, who was still sitting near Vomi, her small hand resting on the woman¡¯s tangled hair. Steeling himself, Thiago moved quickly to pick up his daughter, cradling her close as he made up his mind. They had to leave¡ªnow. It didn¡¯t matter what Vomi¡¯s current state was; it was only a matter of time before something happened that he couldn¡¯t control.

    Just as he took his first steps toward the exit, his optics lit up with an incoming call. The HUD displayed a name he hadn¡¯t expected to see: Kaneda.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡± Thiago muttered.

    What could the CEO of KanedaCorp possibly want with him? Let alone how did he find his number?

    The screen blinked to life, revealing Kaneda¡¯s stoic face. ¡°Mr. Keithwork,¡± Kaneda greeted, his tone clipped and begrudging, as if addressing Thiago was a chore. ¡°It appears you are still alive despite prolonged exposure to Dr. Vomi.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah?¡± Thiago replied, his confusion evident.

    ¡°Is the serum intact?¡± Kaneda¡¯s question was abrupt, his tone sharper now.

    ¡°You know about that?¡± Thiago asked, his brows knitting together.

    Kaneda¡¯s expression darkened with impatience. ¡°Is it intact or not? And what is Dr. Vomi¡¯s current state?¡± His words came quickly, almost rushed, as if time was running out.

    ¡°Why do you want to know that?¡± Thiago¡¯s tone was sharp, defensive. He wasn¡¯t about to take orders from one of the most powerful corpos in San Francisco, especially not when the questions felt like demands.

    Kaneda remained unfazed. ¡°Thiago, follow me on this. You are the only person who can save this city¡ªand possibly the entire world.¡±

    The world? Thiago blinked, his mind struggling to piece together what the hell Kaneda was talking about. As far as he knew, no one outside of San Fran was even aware of Vomi¡¯s existence¡ªexcept maybe Sasha, and she seemed like the type who could keep her mouth shut. Probably. Then again, he didn¡¯t know her that well.

    ¡°More like saving your ass,¡± Thiago shot back, his voice dripping with derision. ¡°You just want me to use the serum on Vomi so you can do your dirty fuckery fuckaroo, smart ass.¡±

    ¡°Dad, who is it?¡± Katie¡¯s voice broke through his rising frustration. She was staring up at him, her small face scrunched with worry. It was clear she could sense his growing anger.

    ¡°One of the corpos who thinks they¡¯re above the consequences of their own actions,¡± Thiago replied flatly, his tone dry and dismissive.

    Kaneda sighed audibly, though his patience sounded more calculated than genuine. ¡°Mr. Keithwork, you underestimate the gravity of the situation. This isn¡¯t about me or my corporation. This is about controlling an uncontrollable force before it consumes everything around it.¡±

    Thiago gritted his teeth, his grip tightening protectively on Katie¡¯s hand. ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to believe you have noble intentions? That you¡¯re suddenly the hero in all this? Give me a break.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to believe me,¡± Kaneda replied coldly. ¡°But if Vomi wakes up again in her current state, she won¡¯t stop at the Black Daggers or even this city. Her instability is spreading. You¡¯ve seen it yourself¡ªshe¡¯s no longer the woman you knew.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t give you the right to play God,¡± Thiago snapped.

    ¡°I¡¯m not playing God. I¡¯m cleaning up a mess someone else created. A mess you¡¯re standing right next to.¡±

    Thiago glanced at Vomi¡¯s sleeping form, his jaw tightening. She looked peaceful now, but the black veins and slight twitching in her unconscious state told a different story. He wanted to believe she could be saved, that some part of the woman they all cared about was still in there. But Kaneda¡¯s words gnawed at him.

    ¡°Dad?¡± Katie¡¯s voice was small, unsure. ¡°Are we leaving?¡±

    Thiago hesitated, torn between his instinct to protect his daughter and the growing pressure to act. ¡°We¡¯re leaving, baby. Right now.¡±

    ¡°Think about it, Mr. Keithwork,¡± Kaneda said, his voice sharp as Thiago moved to end the call. ¡°If you walk away, you¡¯ll lose any chance to stop her. And next time, there might not be anything left of her¡ªor anyone else.¡±

    Thiago terminated the call without a word and scooped Katie into his arms, his mind racing. Vomi''s still figure lay behind him, but his attention shifted downward to the vial at his feet.

    He sighed heavily, crouching to pick it up.

    "I¡¯ll take this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Better to have it and not need it."

    But the moment the vial was secured in his pocket, he froze. Footsteps.

    No¡ªnot just footsteps. It sounded like a march, or maybe a stampede. The sharp rhythm of boots pounding against the ruined floor sent adrenaline surging through him. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªwas coming, it wasn¡¯t friendly.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he hissed under his breath, scanning the now-exposed office. Without the biomass covering everything, the damage to the space was much clearer. The floor was practically gutted, with jagged edges and rubble scattered everywhere. The walls were half-destroyed, and there wasn¡¯t enough intact furniture to provide real cover.

    Then the noise became clearer: loud chants of glory, death, and eddies.

    Thiago''s heart sank.

    Not good. Not good at all.

    Clutching Katie tighter, he pivoted toward the emergency exit, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But just as he reached for the door, it burst open from the other side.

    A figure stood there, SMG raised, wearing the unmistakable gear of the Black Daggers.

    And behind them?

    The rest of the gang.

    All of them.

    "Out of the way, scum," the front ganger growled, shoving Thiago aside.

    Thiago stumbled, landing hard on the ground. Most of the Black Daggers barely spared him a glance, brushing past like he was little more than rubble in their path. But one of them, wearing a set of unusual optics, stopped. The shifting lenses whirred as they focused on him, a flicker of recognition flashing through the display.

    "Hey, I know you!" the ganger said, pointing at him with a mix of surprise and anger. "You''re one of those rockerboys! HEY, THIS IS ONE OF THEM!"

    Thiago''s blood ran cold.

    "...Daddy?" Katie whispered, her small voice trembling.

    Thiago didn''t hesitate. Gripping Katie tightly, he bolted toward the exit, his legs moving before his brain could fully process what was happening.

    The door was crowded with more gangsters flooding in. One lunged at him, a hand outstretched to grab Katie, but Thiago twisted at the last second, dodging the attempt.

    He hit the stairs at a sprint, nearly tripping as he clumsily descended two floors. The gangers he passed either ignored him completely or gave him only brief, puzzled looks¡ªclearly not everyone had caught on.

    But the one who had recognized him?

    He wasn''t letting this go.

    Thiago could hear him yelling behind them, spreading the word as he backtracked. If the Black Daggers weren''t after him before, they definitely were now.

    As Thiago barreled onto the next floor, aiming for the normal staircase, he collided with a massive figure blocking the way. The impact nearly sent him sprawling, but he managed to steady himself, clutching Katie protectively in his arms.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    The man he¡¯d bumped into was built like a tank, his bulk taking up nearly the entire hallway. And judging by the cruel grin spreading across his face, he was very aware of who Thiago was.

    Unfortunately for Thiago, the Black Daggers had excellent communication. With most of them being Netrunners, it didn¡¯t take long for the news of his presence to spread like wildfire. By now, every Dagger in the building knew exactly who he was and that he was alive.

    And that was bad.

    ¡°Well, well, well. What do we have here?¡± the hulking man sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing ominously in the corridor. ¡°The rockergonk and his precious little punk kid.¡±

    Katie whimpered softly, tightening her grip around Thiago¡¯s neck. Thiago¡¯s heart pounded, adrenaline spiking as he looked for any way out.

    ¡°Honestly, didn¡¯t think we¡¯d run into one of the people we tried to flatline yesterday,¡± another Dagger sneered, casually spinning a revolver on his finger. ¡°But hey, can¡¯t complain about a nice little surprise.¡±

    ¡°I saw him almost get zeroed before,¡± the guy with the weird optics chimed in, now stepping into the hall. ¡°Miracle he¡¯s even standing. You must know one hell of a Ripperdoc.¡±

    Thiago winced, still feeling the sting of the wounds that weren¡¯t fully healed, his stubbornness refusing to admit defeat.

    ¡°And the kid? Who¡¯s this little pussy seed?¡±

    ¡°Leave my daughter out of this,¡± Thiago growled, the words feeling weak and desperate even to his own ears.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly intimidating, not with the Black Daggers closing in around him. But it was all he had left.

    ¡°Oh, spare me the White Knight routine,¡± the tank jeered, his voice laced with malice. ¡°We¡¯ll enjoy this at least, before we flatline that monster.¡±

    <hr>

    The symbiote felt the shift in the air, sensing the emptiness as Thiago likely left after staying with them for so long. His presence had offered a fleeting sense of comfort, a brief taste of peace¡ªsomething they hadn¡¯t truly known, not even when they had woken up in the wreckage of Night City. Peace was a foreign concept for the symbiote. Its purpose was survival, to assist, to protect. But as time wore on¡­ things had changed. In ways it couldn¡¯t fully grasp, in ways that had become far more meaningful than it ever expected.

    But now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it. The symbiote waited, resting as the chaos outside unfolded. Thiago had even made a call, reassuring the others that both he and the symbiote were fine. It was a small kindness, a sweet gesture. Hearing one of your own say you¡¯re alright when everything around you was falling apart.

    Then, another call. Thiago¡¯s tone shifted¡ªanger, confusion, frustration. The symbiote sensed his distress, the mix of hostility and defensiveness. He seemed to make a decision, one that led him toward leaving, just as a new group approached. The scent was familiar, and the symbiote recoiled at it, the spider symbol on its body twitching in discomfort. But it held its ground. They didn¡¯t pose a direct threat¡­ yet. Thiago could be caught in the crossfire, though. Katie asked what was happening, but the symbiote couldn¡¯t make sense of the answer, at least not one it could grasp.

    Then, a shout¡ªrecognition in the voice. Fear, tension, and the undeniable need to protect were all there, mingling in the air.

    The symbiote could sit idle no longer.

    It slowly rose, eyes flickering open. The biomass had returned to its body, even the throne it had once occupied now nothing more than an office chair. The symbiote¡¯s instincts screamed to act.

    ¡°Dad, no!¡±

    ¡°Hold on! Don¡¯t you dare¡ª¡±

    BANG

    A gunshot.

    The symbiote moved, drawn instinctively toward the sound. The first thing it saw was enough to ignite the fury inside it once again.

    The Black Daggers. They were here.

    Did they forget what the symbiote had been doing this entire time? Did they really need a reminder? Its eyes burned with an unnatural glow as the voices within urged it forward. This was their mistake.

    If the Black Daggers hadn¡¯t even begun to realize what they were up against.

    They would now.

    The symbiote saw Thiago on the ground, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Katie wasn¡¯t in his arms anymore. She was in the grasp of some towering Black Dagger brute. A flicker of rage coursed through the symbiote. It analyzed the scene rapidly. Too many targets. Too many variables. Katie''s safety had to come first.

    Then it moved. Faster than any of them could react.

    The first dagger fell before he even saw it coming, a savage slash ripping through his torso. The next had his face shredded by claws before being hurled like a ragdoll into the others. Tendrils lashed out, striking those too frozen in shock to defend themselves.

    Finally, the one holding Katie.

    The symbiote¡¯s hand clamped around his throat, lifting him effortlessly. It didn¡¯t hesitate. With a sickening crunch, it drove the man''s head into the wall, the impact leaving a smear of blood and shattered bone. Its tendrils cocooned Katie protectively as the last enemy hit the floor.

    The room was silent, save for the faint drip of blood and the symbiote¡¯s low snarl.

    ¡°Biomass¡­¡± it murmured, eyes sweeping over the lifeless bodies.

    The hunger was unbearable now, clawing at its mind. Feed. Evolve. Grow stronger. Not for rest, not for sustenance¡ªpurely to dominate. It considered the possibility for a moment, the temptation almost too much to resist.

    Then Thiago''s voice broke through the haze.

    ¡°Katie? Sweetie? Are you hurt?¡± His voice cracked, raw with worry and pain.

    Katie didn¡¯t respond, frozen in shock, her eyes wide and unblinking. Thiago, wincing, tried to reach for her with his good arm, but the wound in his shoulder made it difficult.

    The symbiote moved toward him, its tendrils extending with precision, intending to heal the injury.

    But Thiago didn¡¯t see it that way.

    From his perspective, Vomi¡ªor whatever she had become¡ªwas closing in to devour him. He pulled Katie behind him, shielding her with his body as best he could.

    Katie didn¡¯t cry. She was too overwhelmed for tears. Her panic was silent but palpable, her small frame trembling like a leaf.

    The symbiote froze. Thiago and Katie were terrified¡ªof it. The ones the host had vowed to protect now cowered, afraid they might become its next victims.

    It was a sobering realization. Was this what protectors had become? Beings that provided safety but were feared for their power and brutality? The symbiote paced in place, trying to reconcile its nature with the perception it had created.

    Katie tugged on Thiago¡¯s shirt, a silent plea for him to act. But Thiago stood frozen, as lost as she was, unsure of how to handle the monster standing before them.

    ¡°Y-you call yourself a protector?¡± a hoarse voice cut through the silence, dripping with contempt. ¡°What a joke.¡±

    The three turned toward the sound. A Black Dagger, barely clinging to life, lay slumped against the wall. His body was broken and battered, his breaths shallow. Yet his optics glowed faintly¡ªnot blue, gold, or red as Thiago was accustomed to seeing, but a pale green. Something about it tugged at the edges of Thiago¡¯s memory. He¡¯d seen it before, though he couldn¡¯t place where.

    The symbiote, however, wasn¡¯t concerned with recognition. Its singular thought was to crush the man¡¯s head and end him.

    The Dagger coughed, blood splattering his lips, but he forced a weak grin. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter now... Funny thing is, we had rats among the Daggers. M-Tech paid good for¡ª¡±

    THUD

    The symbiote didn¡¯t let him finish. Its foot slammed down, silencing him permanently.

    ¡°M-Tech?¡± Thiago echoed, quickly shielding Katie¡¯s eyes from the scene, though it was far too late to spare her from the horror. ¡°Wait¡­ rats? M-Tech paid¡ª¡±

    His thoughts churned, pieces beginning to click into place. His expression shifted, the flicker of realization dawning across his face.

    But the symbiote wasn¡¯t listening. Its focus narrowed, rage boiling over as it growled, ¡°Next prey.¡±

    ¡°Vomi, wait! That¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Before Thiago could finish, the symbiote turned and leaped through the window, shattering the glass. Tendrils shot out, latching onto nearby buildings as it slinged into the skyline.

    <hr>

    "The live feed was cut, Mr. Miranda," an officer reported, shutting the laptop that had been streaming the video.

    "That means it''s coming here," Miranda replied, his voice calm but authoritative. "Prepare the sedatives and weapons. Use everything we have to contain or kill it."

    "The sedatives are ready," a scientist chimed in, carefully loading three sniper rifles with darts. "Double dosage, as you requested. We have three darts¡ªthree chances to hit the subject. We could produce more, but given the time constraints¡ª"

    "It''s fine," Miranda interrupted, raising a hand to stop the explanation. "What about safety measures?"

    The scientist hesitated, exhaling sharply. "Limited, sir. The only assurance I can give is that the symbiote might play with its food."

    "Explain."

    "No immediate relatives are in danger, as in family or friends," the scientist explained as if discussing a routine experiment. "That means it¡¯s likely to¡­ savor the process rather than make it quick. The thrill of the hunt, so to speak."

    Miranda gave a curt nod, processing the grim logic. "Understood. How many of our team are equipped with Kerens, Sandys, or other boosterware?"

    "Not everyone, sir," the officer standing behind him replied. "My recommendation: give the rifles to those with booster implants. They¡¯ll have the reaction speed advantage."

    "Good thinking," Miranda approved. "Distribute the rifles accordingly and take your positions. We¡¯re not leaving this to chance."

    As the team scrambled to follow his orders, Miranda adjusted his own body armor and secured a rifle. If anyone was going to face this monster, he¡¯d be in the thick of it. After all, this was his father¡¯s company. It was his legacy on the line. No more mister nice CEO. This was too risky to quipp or joke around.

    ¡°The symbiote has been sighted,¡± an officer said over comms, his tone tense. ¡°Wait... what the hell? Is someone¡ªwhy is someone following the target?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± another officer chimed in, his voice laced with confusion. ¡°What do you mean someone¡¯s following the monster?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I said!¡± the first officer shot back, still trying to process what he was seeing. ¡°There¡¯s a Kusanagi trailing the symbiote.¡±

    ¡°A Kusanagi?¡± The second officer frowned, recalling the sport bike¡¯s reputation. ¡°What¡¯s some biker doing chasing a damn monster?¡±

    ¡°Trying to get flatlined, maybe,¡± someone muttered dryly over the channel.

    ¡°Cut the chatter,¡± a sniper interrupted sharply, clearly annoyed. ¡°How long until the target gets here?¡±

    The officer on surveillance sighed, focusing back on the situation. ¡°At this speed? Couple minutes, tops. But seriously, this biker¡ª¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Focus on the mission,¡± the sniper barked, his voice as sharp as the darts he was holding. ¡°We¡¯ve only got three shots. Don¡¯t waste them because you¡¯re gawking at some thrill-seeker.¡±

    ¡°Roger that,¡± came the reluctant reply, though the curiosity hung heavy in the air. After all, who in their right mind would willingly follow a creature like that?

    The scene unfolded exactly as one might expect¡ªif anyone could muster the words, it would probably be something like, ¡°Damn.¡±

    The symbiote crash landed in front of M-Tech, its form both alien and awe-inspiring. Though it was a kind of liquid armor, a living bodysuit, it amplified the already peak condition of the woman inside. Muscles coiled with lethal precision, her presence towering even in the middle of a deserted street. Laser sights danced across its blackened surface, flanked by an array of weapons, from high-tech firearms to swords gleaming under the streetlights.

    Swords? The symbiote mused momentarily, amused by humanity¡¯s insistence on blending archaic and futuristic weaponry. Every sci-fi setting wanted to sneak a blade in, and every medieval fantasy longed for a gun.

    And then there was Final Fantasy, with its sword-revolver nonsense.

    It looked cool though.

    ¡°Where is Miranda?¡± The symbiote¡¯s voice, low and venomous, cut through the tension like a blade.

    No one answered¡ªuntil a smooth, calm voice broke the silence.

    ¡°Vomi,¡± Miranda called from a safe distance, stepping into view with calculated nonchalance. ¡°I thought you wouldn¡¯t return so soon.¡±

    ¡°You paid the Daggers,¡± the symbiote snarled, its glowing eyes flicking from weapon to weapon, analyzing each threat. A dozen strategies formed in its mind. ¡°Some mole. Some scum. Betraying their own kind. We want to know¡ª¡±

    BANG!

    CATCH.

    The symbiote¡¯s arm shot out with inhuman speed, intercepting a dart mid-flight. It turned the object in its hand, examining the cylindrical container filled with an unfamiliar substance. This wasn¡¯t poison. It wasn¡¯t another ¡°cure¡± Raven had whispered about. It was something else entirely.

    With a low growl, it crushed the dart in its grip, the liquid spilling harmlessly onto the asphalt.

    ¡°We want to know why,¡± it demanded, voice seething with fury.

    ¡°Sir, we¡¯re down to two shots of the sedative,¡± the sniper reported through comms, his voice tight with tension.

    Miranda didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he calmly flipped the safety off his rifle, his lips curling into a smirk. ¡°If you¡¯re curious, Vomi¡­¡± he began, deliberately dragging out his words, ¡°Kaneda and I had a little¡­ competition. If I had an edge over him, no matter how small, it would tip the scales in M-Tech¡¯s favor.¡±

    ¡°So this is what it¡¯s all about?¡± The symbiote¡¯s voice dripped with disdain as it took a slow, measured step forward. Officers adjusted their stances, fingers twitching on triggers. ¡°Our lives were destroyed because of a petty corporate rivalry?¡±

    Miranda¡¯s grin widened. ¡°You make it sound so personal.¡± He shook his head mockingly. ¡°But tell me¡ªwas it any different when you worked for a corporation? When you did our dirty work?¡± He gestured broadly with his free hand. ¡°Hypocrite. When you¡¯re pulling the strings, it¡¯s justified, isn¡¯t it? But when it¡¯s someone else, suddenly it¡¯s a tragedy. Your arrogance is almost impressive. Almost.¡±

    The symbiote hesitated, glancing down at its own clawed hands, tension rippling through its frame. The accusation wasn¡¯t entirely without merit. Even if Miranda¡¯s motives were reprehensible, his point landed with an uncomfortable weight.

    ¡°Just because you¡¯re correct,¡± it growled, its glowing eyes narrowing, ¡°doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re right. The ends don¡¯t justify the means.¡±

    Miranda let out a slow, sarcastic clap, each strike of his hands diminishing in enthusiasm. ¡°How profound,¡± he said, his voice dripping with mockery. ¡°I can die happy now. A monster preaching morality. It¡¯s exactly the comedy I needed.¡±

    The symbiote raised a brow, suspicious. ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±

    Miranda¡¯s expression turned cold, his grin fading into something more calculated. ¡°Oh, come on,¡± he sneered, raising his hand as a silent signal. The officers stepped closer, their weapons ready. ¡°You killed dozens¡ªno, hundreds¡ªbecause one of your precious friends got caught in the crossfire and didn''t even die. You claim to protect, yet you leave destruction in your wake. Don¡¯t lecture me, monster. Your resume does all the talking for you.¡±

    The symbiote bristled, rage boiling just beneath the surface. Miranda wasn¡¯t just poking at wounds¡ªhe was twisting the knife.

    ¡°That¡¯s not even counting the fact that it was you who killed most of them.¡±

    The air seemed to still.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± the symbiote snarled, its voice low and dangerous, tendrils writhing out from its body like serpents preparing to strike. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say it.¡±

    Miranda tilted his head mockingly, an infuriating grin playing on his lips. ¡°Why not? Afraid to face the truth? Then tell me¡­¡± He leaned forward slightly, as if sharing a secret. ¡°Where is Heitor?¡±

    The words hit like a thunderclap.

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    The symbiote exploded into motion, leaping toward Miranda with feral speed and unbridled fury. But the guards were ready. They surged forward like a tide, blocking its path with a storm of bullets, shotgun blasts, and the sharp arc of blades. The symbiote ducked and weaved, deflecting attacks with tendrils and claws, but the assault was relentless.

    The symbiote tore through the guards with brutal efficiency, claws rending flesh and tendrils smashing bodies into walls. Yet, for every one it dropped, another stepped in, buying precious seconds for Miranda to stay untouched.

    Then came him.

    The one with the blade.

    And of course the asshole has a Sandy.

    The air around him shimmered as his Sandevistan activated, a blur of motion the symbiote barely registered before the blade sliced toward its midsection. Reflexes saved it; tendrils lashed out instinctively, but the man moved faster, dodging with an unnatural grace. The symbiote swung a clawed hand toward his head, only for the blade-wielder to sidestep and retaliate with a slash aimed at its torso. The symbiote''s blackened armor held, but the strike was precise, forcing it to shift its focus entirely to this new threat.

    "Impressive," the symbiote growled, its voice a mixture of Vomi''s anger and the monster''s primal fury. "You''re faster than most of these fodder."

    "Better than you, too," the man shot back, his voice distorted through his breathing mask. He moved again, a streak of speed, his blade catching the symbiote''s arm. Sparks flew as the weapon found purchase, but it wasn''t deep enough to cripple.

    The symbiote retaliated with a flurry of tendrils, each aiming to ensnare him, but the man''s Sandevistan made him an untouchable ghost. He darted through the chaos, slashing and stabbing in rapid bursts, each strike chipping away at the symbiote''s defense. And as the symbiote got distracted, the remaining officers kept up their assault, their bullets and blades forcing the symbiote to split its attention. Every moment of distraction was another opportunity for the blade-wielder to dart in, landing shallow but aggravatingly precise hits.

    Somehow, this was the most effective way to battle the monster. Overwhelm it with numbers, poke it from time to time, all of it made the symbiote angrier, and easier to attack, even with the many tendrils shooting out of it.

    The symbiote roared in frustration. It tried to charge Miranda again, but the blade-wielder anticipated it, sliding in front of the attack and forcing it back with a near-lethal slash to its leg. The symbiote stumbled for the first time, tendrils lashing out wildly to regain control.

    "You''re going to have to do better than that," the man taunted, blade gleaming with fresh black ichor. His Sandevistan flared again, and he lunged once more, forcing the symbiote to defend rather than attack.

    Miranda smirked from his vantage point, rifle in hand but not yet fired. He wasn''t going to need it¡ªnot yet. Not when his men were proving to be such an effective shield. Although the Samurai was using his Sandy a bit too much. They don''t have many Sandevistan users at M-Tech. If he overuses it, it will make him bleed or pass out.

    The man in the exo-suit, realizing the tactical advantage, shifted to a calculated, defensive stance. He used the mobility and strength of his enhancements to strike from a distance, retreating periodically to inject MaxDocs and maintain his edge. The strategy was proving effective. The symbiote, already taxed by the relentless onslaught, couldn¡¯t focus long enough to land a decisive blow.

    Meanwhile, the sniper, perched high above the battlefield, steadied their aim.

    The symbiote barely registered the sound of a shotgun being fired until the incendiary shell exploded point-blank against its chest. Flames licked across its form, briefly staggering it.

    Then came the shot.

    BANG

    The dart pierced the symbiote''s chest with brutal precision, its payload injecting the sedative into its system. But the monster wasn¡¯t felled¡ªnot yet.

    Snarling with fury, it took the split second of distraction to retaliate. A whirlpool of slashing tendrils erupted from its body, a whirlwind of destruction that tore through the guards in its immediate vicinity. Screams filled the air as dozens of M-Tech personnel were eviscerated in one devastating attack. Even the blade-wielder wasn¡¯t spared, though he managed to block some of the strikes with his weapon, sustaining only minor injuries.

    Miranda¡¯s expression hardened as he assessed the situation. ¡°No more games,¡± he muttered.

    He raised his rifle and fired a burst at the symbiote, the sharp retort of gunfire cutting through the chaos. The symbiote, snarling in rage, attempted to charge him, but once again, the blade-wielder intervened. With the speed of his Sandevistan, he blurred into the symbiote¡¯s path, driving his blade into its neck. The symbiote¡¯s claws lashed out, but the man had already retreated before they could connect.

    Miranda capitalized on the opening, firing another salvo from his rifle. This time, the symbiote was forced to retreat, tendrils snapping back to its body as it scrambled for cover. It crouched behind a makeshift shield of its own biomass, its form heaving as the sedative began to take effect.

    ¡°Good,¡± Miranda said with a grim smile, signaling his men to press forward. ¡°Keep it on the defensive. Don''t let it take a hold on you.¡±

    The symbiote felt the sedative creeping through its system, a heavy, unwelcome weight pulling it down. Its limbs felt sluggish, like wading through quicksand, and even its teeth ached with a strange numbness. A wave of unnatural drowsiness clouded its thoughts, forcing it to slow down.

    Step by step, it retreated, but the open area in front of the M-Tech building offered no real cover. No nearby vehicles, no alleyways to duck into¡ªjust a vast expanse with nowhere to hide. It was like trying to hold back a relentless tide, and the odds were stacked against it.

    The symbiote¡¯s biological structure strained against the sedative. It tried to adapt, to flush the toxins or reconfigure itself to counteract the effects, but the dosage was too potent, overwhelming even its advanced genetic shuffling. Still, it wasn¡¯t giving up. Despite the odds, the symbiote fought against its faltering body, dragging itself backward in a desperate attempt to buy time, tendrils coiling defensively as the gunshots still came towards its direction.

    ¡°Shit, how many have we lost?¡± one of the guards muttered, glancing nervously at the carnage around them.

    ¡°This thing is a fucking nightmare,¡± another replied, pausing to count the remaining personnel. ¡°Five¡­ eight of us left. Damn it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve still got one more shot of the sedative,¡± the sniper reported, calmly sliding the bolt back and slotting in the final dart. ¡°Locked and ready.¡±

    Miranda¡¯s gaze lingered on the symbiote, now barely moving, its towering form swaying as if on the verge of collapse. A cold satisfaction flickered across his face.

    ¡°Copy that,¡± he said, his tone sharp and authoritative. ¡°Initiate containment procedures.¡±

    A low rumble echoed in the distance.

    ¡°What the hell is that noise?¡± one of the guards muttered, scanning the horizon.

    The unmistakable hum of a Kusanagi engine grew louder until the sleek bike came into view, pulling up right in front of the M-Tech building. The odd part? There was no rider. It simply parked itself, as if summoned by autopilot.

    ¡°The fuck?¡± another guard said, raising his weapon nervously.

    BANG

    A deafening shot rang out, and the guard closest to Vomi crumpled to the ground, a clean, devastating bullet wound marking his end.

    ¡°Sniper!¡± one of the others yelled, diving for cover near the building.

    Chaos erupted as every remaining operative scrambled to safety, including Miranda, who disappeared into the building¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°Who the hell is this guy?¡± a guard barked, adrenaline lacing his voice.

    ¡°Who cares? Find the bastard!¡± another snapped, checking their corners frantically.

    ¡°I¡¯m on overwatch!¡± the M-Tech sniper reported through the comms, loading standard rounds into his rifle. ¡°No visual on the¡ª¡±

    BANG

    The comms went dead mid-sentence. The silence that followed was deafening, filled only by the faint hum of tension. No one needed to say it¡ªthey all knew what had happened.

    <hr>

    ¡°This thing is¡­ insane. How the hell did Vomi even get her hands on it?¡± Thiago muttered, staring at the sniper rifle in his hands with a mix of awe and disbelief.

    He couldn¡¯t tell if the weapon was smart-linked or if it just had the world¡¯s best balance, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter. Even with his amateur skills, the rifle made hitting targets feel like second nature. The recoil was laughably light, but the destructive power behind each shot? Catastrophic. After the first shot, Thiago rubbed his ears, trying to shake off the lingering ring.

    ¡°AM I YELLING?¡± Katie shouted, her voice just a little too loud as she cupped her own ears.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Thiago answered absentmindedly, still examining the rifle like it was some alien artifact. His focus shifted to the engraved label on the side: TAC-50.

    ¡°This thing fires .50 cals?¡± he muttered, almost afraid of the answer.

    Thiago had stashed Vomi''s sniper from back when he first entered at the Daggers¡¯ hideout¡ªthe same place where he, Heitor, and Blaze had first split up. He¡¯d never used it before, but after one shot, he was starting to think Vomi had been unhinged long before the symbiote ever entered her life. No ordinary person just stashes a monster like this in their arsenal.

    Katie interrupted his thoughts, tugging on his sleeve. ¡°Dad, they¡¯re moving.¡±

    Thiago adjusted the scope and surveyed the scene, spotting enemy movement across the street and in the buildings. He didn¡¯t love the idea of killing people, especially not in front of Katie, but he knew this was the lesser evil compared to what Vomi would do if left unchecked.

    This wasn¡¯t okay. None of it was. But in Thiago¡¯s mind, it was better than the alternative.

    One of the guards cautiously poked his head out, trying to pinpoint the sniper¡¯s location. Thiago shifted his aim slightly left.

    Katie, anticipating what was about to happen, clamped her hands over her ears.

    BANG.

    The shot cracked through the air, deafening and sharp. The sheer power behind it left no question of its lethality. The recoil, almost nonexistent, belied the destructive force it unleashed. Blood splattered across the pavement¡ªa grim confirmation of the shot''s accuracy. Thiago grimaced, realizing this weapon was likely designed for taking targets out from miles away, not for close-quarters urban warfare like this, even more when the magazine had only three shots.

    Across the street, Vomi was struggling to regain her footing. She managed to rise halfway before her knees buckled, sending her crashing back to the ground. Instead of trying to stand again, she began crawling, dragging herself away from the M-Tech building like a wounded animal.

    The guards moved to stop her, but Thiago had already reloaded.

    BANG.

    Another shot, another target dropped.

    On the other side of the road, the remaining guards were losing their nerve. The blade-wielder, who had been so effective against the symbiote, was now useless against an unseen sniper. Worse, his overuse of the Sandevistan earlier had left him drained, making him a liability rather than an asset.

    The once-confident squad now hesitated, unsure whether to advance, retreat, or simply pray they weren¡¯t the next to fall.

    ¡°Sir, what¡¯s the plan now?¡± one of the guards asked, his voice tight with worry as he looked to Miranda for guidance.

    Miranda, though clearly furious, managed to maintain his composure. ¡°We fall back inside the building. Regroup and resupply. We¡¯re not winning this out here.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± the guards echoed, one after the other, their movements cautious as they retreated.

    A sniper round cracked the air, narrowly missing one of the stragglers, but they managed to reach the main hall. Once inside, they disappeared deeper into the building to reassess and plan their next move.

    On the other side of the street, Thiago exhaled a small sigh of relief. He carefully placed the sniper down and slung his Saratoga SMG from his backpack. Katie was at his side, clutching a Unity pistol. He¡¯d been reluctant to give her a weapon, but leaving her unarmed felt worse.

    They darted across the street, sticking low to avoid detection, until they reached Vomi, still crawling and clearly drained.

    ¡°Hey there, choom,¡± Thiago said, kneeling beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. His eyes darted to the building, scanning for any signs of movement. ¡°Hate to say I told you so, but you didn¡¯t even let me finish my sentence before running off.¡±

    The symbiote only groaned in response, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

    ¡°Come on, Vomi. Can¡¯t just stay lying there,¡± Thiago muttered, straining as he hoisted her up with great difficulty.

    Muscles weighed a lot, and Vomi¡¯s symbiotic enhancements didn¡¯t help lighten the load.

    ¡°Damn, you¡¯re heavy¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that about women, Dad,¡± Katie deadpanned, unimpressed.

    Vomi didn¡¯t even have the strength to protest. The sedative coursing through her system left her limp and unresponsive. Unbeknownst to Thiago, the symbiote was redirecting its remaining energy to adapt, focusing its biomass on neutralizing the chemical compound.

    Thiago carried her to a nearby building where he¡¯d stashed supplies earlier. He set her down gently on a staircase and positioned himself at the entrance, Saratoga raised and ready. A quick nod to Katie was all it took to send her checking on Vomi.

    ¡°Vomi?¡± Katie hesitated before poking her arm.

    The only response was a sluggish ripple across the liquid armor, the biomass visibly shifting in reaction.

    ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡± Thiago asked without turning from his post.

    ¡°Sticky and gross,¡± Katie replied, wrinkling her nose.

    ¡°Figures.¡±

    As Thiago scanned the street for any movement, his agent buzzed. He grumbled already suspecting who it was.

    ¡°This is getting annoying, Kaneda,¡± he greeted tersely.

    On the other end, Kaneda sighed. ¡°Mr. Keithwork, what condition is Dr. Vomi in?¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯re you asking?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the M-Tech footage. She was hit with a dart, though I can¡¯t confirm its contents.¡± Kaneda forwarded the recording to Thiago¡ªVomi catching the first dart and then the one that struck her chest. ¡°What¡¯s her status?¡±

    Katie, watching Thiago¡¯s furrowed expression, asked, ¡°Another call from the mean corpo?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Thiago muttered before glancing at Vomi. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ groggy. Drowsy. Like she partied too hard, drank way too much, and now regrets everything.¡±

    ¡°A sedative, most likely,¡± Kaneda mused. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I meant.¡±

    ¡°Then what?¡±

    ¡°How is she emotionally?¡±

    Thiago frowned, confused. ¡°How¡¯s that relevant right now?¡±

    Still, he glanced at Vomi again. Her face¡ªbarely visible under the shifting symbiote¡ªshowed anger, exhaustion, and despair.

    ¡°Angry. Frustrated. Tired. Take your pick,¡± Thiago said, turning back to the door. ¡°Can¡¯t blame her¡ªDaggers, corpos, alien parasite nonsense. It¡¯s a lot.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ troubling,¡± Kaneda said with a hint of dread. ¡°You should use the serum while you still can.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    "Now¡¯s the perfect time. She can¡¯t resist," Kaneda urged, his voice sharp with urgency. "If you wait any longer, the symbiote will adapt¡ªor worse, lash out at anything it sees."

    "But that¡¯s¡ª"

    "Mr. Keithwork," Kaneda cut him off, his tone icily detached. "Whatever personal connections, relatives, or sentimental nonsense you have with Vomi is irrelevant. Do not tell me you¡¯re as blind as the others. You¡¯ve seen firsthand what that symbiote is capable of. Why do you insist on saving her when all you need to do is one simple task?"

    "Because," Thiago growled, gripping the serum tightly in his hand, the urge to crush it flashing through his mind, "unlike your suits and CEOs, we actually care about the people we like."

    "And you¡¯re willing to gamble the safety of San Francisco on the faint chance of saving her?" Kaneda shot back, incredulous. "This isn¡¯t about morality anymore¡ªit¡¯s about common sense."

    Thiago exhaled heavily, his frustration mounting. Kaneda had a point, but the risk¡ªwhat would happen to Vomi if he used this?

    "Is this serum actually going to save her? Be honest."

    "I don¡¯t know," Kaneda admitted flatly. "But given the lack of alternatives, it¡¯s the only option before I¡¯m forced to take drastic measures."

    Thiago¡¯s jaw clenched. "Fine. I¡¯ll do it."

    "Dad!" Katie¡¯s scream came too late.

    The symbiote reacted first, neutralizing just enough of the sedative to lash out. Vomi¡¯s biomass surged forward in a blur of tendrils, striking a Black Dagger punk who had slipped through the door Thiago was supposed to be watching. The attacker hit the wall with a sickening thud as Vomi dragged herself upright, her body trembling but determined.

    Thiago muttered a curse, raising his Saratoga with steady hands. "Shit..."

    The symbiote''s gaze locked on the vial in Thiago''s hand, its eyes narrowing with malicious intent. It pointed a finger directly at him. "We''ll deal with you later."

    Katie''s hands shook violently, the Unity slipping from her grip as she trembled in fear. She watched, frozen, as the symbiote issued its cold threat to her father. The thing moved toward the exit, its focus now fixed on the M-Tech building.

    Thiago glanced at the Black Dagger body on the floor, confusion furrowing his brow. "What the...?" He took a step back, scanning the room. "There... there are still more of them?"

    A sudden stomp rattled the door beside Thiago, making him instinctively raise his Saratoga, ready to fire. His shoulders relaxed slightly when he saw who it was.

    Frank stood in the doorway, his Tactician drawn but lowered as he took in the scene. "Where''s Vomi?"

    Katie, still trembling, pointed a shaky finger toward the building. "T-there," she stuttered.

    Frank''s gaze followed her gesture, settling on the bloodstained door. He didn''t need much imagination to piece together what had happened. His eyes flicked to the serum in Thiago''s hand, and he quickly deduced that Thiago had been spared by proximity to Vomi¡ªthough he couldn''t be sure how deep their connection went.

    Walking to the building''s entrance, Frank frowned as he surveyed the gruesome remains of the Black Dagger gang member. The body had been sliced cleanly in half, the precision almost clinical.

    "Black Daggers?" Frank muttered, shaking his head. "I thought most of them got wiped out at the HzBleet building." He sighed, his tone weary. "They''re like cockroaches. No matter how many you kill, more just keep crawling out of the cracks."

    He turned back to Thiago. "How are you holding up? Any injuries? What about the kid?"

    "I''m... fine," Thiago replied, though his voice wavered. He gestured to his shoulder. "Aside from this bullet wound." Pocketing the serum, he secured the Saratoga on his back. "Katie... come here.¡±

    Katie rushed into his arms without hesitation, clinging to him tightly. Thiago embraced her with equal fervor, as if trying to shield her from the reality surrounding them.

    After a moment, Thiago broke the silence. "Why are you here?"

    "I came to delta you out," Frank replied.

    "The girls... well, they either couldn''t or wouldn''t come. You can probably guess who falls into which category." His gaze drifted to Katie, noticing her unnerving calmness.

    No tears. No cries. Just silence. It was unsettling.

    Thiago hesitated before speaking. "Frank... I need to ask you for a favor.¡±

    ¡°Name it.¡±

    Thiago gently pulled Katie from his embrace and nudged her toward Frank.

    The officer caught on immediately and knelt to take the girl in his arms. He cradled her carefully, aware of how fragile the moment was.

    "Take her to Raven," Thiago said, his voice thick with emotion.

    Frank froze for a moment, searching Thiago''s face for an explanation. He had expected this, sooner or later. But hearing the words made the weight of the request hit harder. Was this an act of love or surrender? It was impossible to tell.

    "Are you sure?" Frank finally asked, his voice low. "You''d be leaving her."

    Katie''s wide eyes darted between the two men, her young mind struggling to process their exchange.

    Thiago clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. "This is my final decision.¡±

    "Alright." Frank pulled out a syringe, deftly injecting it into Katie¡¯s arm before she could even protest. Her body went limp in moments, her head lolling onto his shoulder. "Don¡¯t worry," he said calmly, "she¡¯s just asleep."

    Thiago¡¯s eyes narrowed. "You were planning to use that on me, weren¡¯t you?"

    Frank shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Who knows?" He tucked the syringe back into his coat. "But I do know one thing¡ªif Vomi didn¡¯t kill you during either of the times you were alone with her, then you¡¯re the only one who has even a chance of doing something about all this."

    Thiago¡¯s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. "Yeah."

    <hr>

    The symbiote smashed into the wall with a deafening crash, debris cascading around it as smoke and dust choked the air. But the impact was little more than a fleeting inconvenience. Rising as swiftly as it had fallen, it dusted itself off with unnerving composure before surging forward once more.

    The M-Tech building was fortified like a fortress, brimming with defenses. Automated turrets swiveled to track movement, humanoid combat drones patrolled in synchronized precision, and flying drones armed to the teeth buzzed through the air. The guards were borged-out monstrosities¡ªnot fully cybernetic, but packed with enough chrome to make their ganic parts seem like an afterthought.

    One particularly ambitious guard attempted to hack the symbiote. The effort was laughable¡ªliterally. Without any cybernetics left to infiltrate, the attack was futile. The symbiote laughed, the sound chilling and unhinged, as it tore the would-be hacker apart with savage glee. Using the severed legs as an improvised bat, it swung with brutal precision, knocking another guard unconscious.

    Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off its sleek, adaptive bodysuit, the symbiote''s biomass shrugging off low-caliber rounds with disdain. With each passing second, its savagery grew more uninhibited, each kill feeding its confidence and revelry. The defenders¡¯ desperation only seemed to fuel its pleasure.

    Even the blade-wielder, now desperate, activated his Sandevistan for a high-speed attack. But the strain of overclocking his implants betrayed him¡ªhis nose erupted in a torrent of blood, and he lost control, slamming into a nearby wall. Before he could recover, the symbiote loomed over him, grabbing him by the shoulders with a grip like a vice.

    It gave him a mocking pat, its devilish smirk spreading wide as it leaned in. The man¡¯s terror was palpable, his body trembling.

    "You aimed for my face," it said, its voice dripping with mockery, "but hit my neck." Its tone was almost playful, but the malice behind it was undeniable. "If we hadn''t dodged just enough, you would''ve ruined our face."

    The symbiote wagged a finger in front of him, the gesture taunting and patronizing. "Never, ever, aim for the face."

    With a single slap, the guard''s head exploded in a grotesque spray of blood and bone.

    Miranda froze. His guards froze. Everyone froze. The brutal efficiency of it all made one thing painfully clear¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a fight. It was a slaughter.

    For the first time, the weight of his mistake fully dawned on Miranda. He shouldn¡¯t have provoked the monster ripping through the city like a storm. The serum hadn¡¯t been used, and the sedatives that had struck their target were proving utterly useless. If they had delayed the creature at all, it had already adapted, rendering their effects null.

    And if this wasn''t bad enough¡­

    ¡°Miranda,¡± the symbiote growled, its voice sharp and inhuman as it dropped the lifeless body of a guard to the ground with a wet thud.

    ¡°Vomi,¡± Miranda replied, his voice barely steady. His gun was raised, but they both knew it was meaningless. It wouldn¡¯t even scratch her.

    The symbiote loomed over Miranda, its towering form augmented further by the alien enhancements, casting an oppressive shadow over him. The cracked mirrors on the wall reflected something neither Miranda nor Vomi could fully perceive¡ªVomi¡¯s eyes flickered like a glitch on a broken screen, a fleeting, eerie distortion.

    Behind them, guards opened fire, their aim somehow avoiding Miranda. A relentless hail of bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the symbiote¡¯s back, the creature unfazed as it gently placed a hand around Miranda¡¯s neck.

    Without hesitation, the symbiote twisted his neck with brutal force. The sickening snap echoed in the room, his head wrenched so far it overextended grotesquely. Cybernetics sparked and flesh strained in a futile attempt to repair the damage, but it was too far gone. Miranda¡¯s body collapsed like a broken doll.

    Then, a sharp sting pierced the symbiote¡¯s arm. Something foreign entered its system. They glanced at the small dart embedded in their skin. Another sedative? A tired roll of their eyes betrayed their disdain. Did they truly think such feeble efforts would work again?

    The symbiote turned sharply, looking for whoever dared to make the attempt.

    ¡°What?¡± It was a low, almost human word, spoken with a voice that wavered between monstrous and familiar.

    Thiago stood just meters away. His expression was a mix of fear and desperation, but he wasted no time retreating. Taking advantage of the chaos¡ªthe guards¡¯ endless, futile barrage of bullets¡ªhe slipped into the cover, disappearing from sight. The syringe was still on her arm though, so when they went down to remove it, one of the bullets actually hurt her.

    ¡°Gah!¡± Vomi staggered back as a bullet slammed into her chest, followed by another, and another.

    The impact jolted through her body like a shockwave. Pain¡ªsharp, raw, and unrelenting¡ªflooded her senses. She gasped, her mind reeling. Why did this hurt so much? Why now?

    The vulnerability was alien, disorienting. Every nerve screamed in protest as if her once-invincible body had betrayed her. What is happening? When did this become dangerous?

    The guards didn¡¯t let up. Gunfire poured into her like an unrelenting storm, round after round slamming into her staggering form. They reloaded with frantic urgency, knowing the cost of hesitation. Miranda was dead¡ªthat fact was inescapable¡ªbut his loss could be managed later.

    The symbiote, however, had to be stopped. Now.

    Vomi stumbled, her body convulsing as she tried to steady herself against the onslaught. The symbiote, once an impenetrable shield, now seemed sluggish, its reactive adaptability failing to keep up. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt weak.

    She groaned, trying to push forward, but her legs wobbled under her weight. Her thoughts were a chaotic spiral. Why aren¡¯t we healing? Why can¡¯t we fight back? The voices inside her head, always a cacophony of confidence and direction, were now silent¡ªeerily so.

    The guards hesitated for a brief moment, disbelief written on their faces. Was it actually working? Could the monster finally be brought down?

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop!¡± one of them barked, breaking the spell of doubt. ¡°Keep firing! We¡¯ve got her!¡±

    Another burst of gunfire tore through her side, the pain sharper than before. She gasped, crumpling to one knee, her breathing ragged. The once-dominant creature was now reduced to a vulnerable figure, bleeding and struggling.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± a voice shouted from the distance. Thiago. His tone was panicked, desperate, as he sprinted toward the chaos.

    ¡°No¡­¡± she whispered, barely audible over the cacophony. He shouldn¡¯t be here.

    Thiago ignored the danger, rushing past the guards. He raised his Saratoga, firing a quick burst at the closest one, creating a brief opening.

    ¡°Move!¡± he yelled, reaching her side. ¡°Get up! You have to get up!¡±

    Vomi¡¯s head tilted weakly toward him, her expression a mixture of pain and disbelief. ¡°Why¡­ are you¡­ here?¡±

    ¡°To stop you from flatlining!¡± Thiago snapped, hooking an arm under her shoulder and hauling her up with every ounce of strength he could muster.

    The guards closed in, seizing the advantage. ¡°Shoot them both!¡± one barked.

    Grinding his teeth, Thiago dragged Vomi toward cover, his movements fueled by sheer adrenaline. ¡°Not today,¡± he muttered, yanking a FlashFire grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin and hurled it behind them. The explosion of searing light and deafening sound disoriented the guards, forcing them to scatter.

    He didn¡¯t wait to see the result. Thiago hauled Vomi toward the Kusanagi still parked outside the building. It wasn¡¯t the most graceful maneuver; he dumped her onto the backseat like an unconscious rider on a horse.

    Mounting the bike, Thiago gripped the handlebars with one hand, his injured shoulder screaming in protest. ¡°Hold on, damn it,¡± he muttered, though he wasn¡¯t sure if it was directed at Vomi or himself.

    He rode with clumsy determination, his bloodied hand slipping slightly as the engine roared. Somehow, luck¡ªor desperation¡ªguided him through the chaos and away from immediate danger.

    Finally, after putting enough distance between them and the pursuing guards, Thiago pulled over in a dark alley. He parked the bike and let Vomi slide to the ground with a thud, her body lifeless and unmoving.

    Kneeling beside her, he checked her over, his heart pounding. She wasn¡¯t doing well¡ªnot at all.

    The biomass covering her seemed chaotic, shifting and pulsating erratically. It was trying to heal her, adapt, and fight off the effects of the serum all at once¡ªbut it was failing miserably. The once-fluid symbiotic structure now looked fragmented, as if it didn¡¯t know what it was supposed to be anymore.

    ¡°Come on, Vomi,¡± Thiago whispered, his voice shaking. ¡°Fight it. You¡¯re stronger than this.¡±

    But as he watched the erratic convulsions and the dulling glow of her symbiote, doubt crept into his mind. Was the serum saving her¡ªor killing her?

    Wait, what exactly did Graves say this serum was again?

    Actually, did he even tell me what this serum was supposed to do?

    "Aaaaahhhh, fuck me," Thiago groaned.

    Of course, there had to be some shady business with the corpos.

    Honestly, he was surprised at himself for not thinking of it sooner.

    Vomi continued to tremble and spasm, vomiting at intervals. The sight made Thiago question whether this had been the wisest decision, but whether he liked it or not, her current suffering was far less than the destruction she had caused. Gritting his teeth, he mentally apologized as he checked the Saratoga''s magazine and the few spare rounds he had left.

    ¡°Not much, but it¡¯s enough,¡± he muttered, cocking the bolt.

    M-Tech personnel emerged from the alley, their weapons raised. Thiago pulled the pin on another FlashFire grenade, the chemical core already heating as he lobbed it toward them. The grenade erupted into searing light and flames, scattering the advancing guards. Those who managed to avoid the inferno were met with a spray of SMG fire as Thiago laid down suppressive shots, forcing them into cover. To ensure they stayed there, he tossed more grenades, turning the alley into a chaotic blaze.

    One guard, however, ignored the chaos, activating some kind of boosterware to dash through the explosions. He surged forward with alarming speed, his target clear. But before he could close the distance, a tendril shot out from Vomi, wrapping around him with terrifying precision. The force of her pull was so intense that Thiago winced as he heard the man¡¯s spine snap like a twig.

    He turned just in time to see Vomi consuming the guard.

    And it was horrifying.

    Her body folded the man like crumpling a sheet of paper, compressing him into a grotesque, compact form before absorbing him entirely. The biomass flowed into her, her wounds sealing as her stability returned. Bullets, once lodged deep in her flesh, fell to the ground, bent and fragmented.

    She wasn¡¯t fully recovered, but she was stable.

    And furious.

    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t hear it¡­ The pain¡­¡± Vomi¡¯s voice was trembling, her hands clutching her head as if trying to pull something back that wasn¡¯t there.

    ¡°Vomi? Fuck, uh, are you okay?¡± Thiago stepped closer, cautiously reaching out to her.

    ¡°No!¡± she snapped, slapping his hand away. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t touch me. They¡¯re gone¡­ where are they?¡±

    ¡°They?¡± Thiago asked, glancing around. ¡°What do you mean? The Daggers? The corpos?¡±

    ¡°No, my¡­ the voices in my¡­¡± She trailed off, her nails digging into her scalp as if trying to claw out whatever was missing. Her frantic motions slowed as realization hit her. ¡°What¡­?¡±

    She turned to Thiago, her wide, unsteady eyes locking onto his. ¡°Who¡­ what? Thiago? You did this to us¡ªme?¡±

    Her voice cracked with desperation, and her breathing grew uneven, bordering on hyperventilation. Thiago had never seen her like this. Vomi was always the one in control, strong and calculating, even when she was consumed by the symbiote. But this? This was something else entirely. She looked¡­ lost. A shell of herself, hollow and terrified, like a puppet whose strings had just been severed.

    Thiago quickly realized what was happening¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the Vomi he knew, not yet. This was the vacuum left behind by the symbiote¡¯s hivemind, leaving her adrift and afraid.

    He knew he had to tread carefully. Whatever she was now, she still had the monster¡¯s powers. One wrong word could set her off.

    ¡°Vomi, it¡¯s me,¡± he said softly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. ¡°I used the cure to bring you back. How do you feel?¡±

    ¡°Used what? A cure?¡± Vomi¡¯s voice cracked as her hands clawed at her temples. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sick¡­ Where¡­ what is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m here,¡± Thiago interrupted gently, placing his hands on her trembling shoulders. ¡°Just focus on me for a moment. How do you feel?¡±

    ¡°How do I feel?¡± she echoed, her voice distant. ¡°I feel¡­ empty. Like something¡ªno, someone¡ªis missing. I don¡¯t know. I need to¡­¡±

    ¡°Hey, c¡¯mon, stay with me,¡± Thiago urged, his tone soft but firm. He carefully guided her to sit down on the ground, crouching beside her. ¡°Listen to me. We¡¯re in danger if we stay here, okay? Let¡¯s get on the bike and leave this place before it¡¯s too late.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you do that for me?¡± Thiago cut her off, nodding toward the guards barking orders and closing in fast. ¡°Those guys over there aren¡¯t exactly friendly. Just climb on the back, alright?¡±

    ¡°F-fine.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± he said, extending a hand to help her up. ¡°Hold on to me.¡±

    The Kusanagi¡¯s engine roared as Thiago pushed it to its limits, the bike tearing down the street. Vomi clung tightly to him, her grip almost desperate. She was too disoriented, her mind spiraling as she searched for any sense of direction or purpose. Right now, Thiago was the only anchor she had, and whatever he told her to do, she would. Anything to escape the emptiness clawing at her. Her arm felt numb, almost useless, as her grip on Thiago loosened. He did his best to keep the bike steady, but Vomi¡¯s world was spiraling. The pain coursing through her body was unbearable, and she wasn¡¯t even sure if her mind could comprehend it. Every fiber of her being screamed for release, but she clung to him like her life depended on it¡ªbecause it did.

    ¡°Thiago¡­ stop¡­¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible.

    ¡°What? What did you say?¡± Thiago shouted, the wind whipping past his ears and the sharp pain in his shoulder dulling his focus.

    ¡°Stop the bike¡­ I¡¯m gonna¡­¡±

    Before she could finish, her body gave out. Vomi slipped from the bike, her weight pulling at Thiago¡¯s arm as he instinctively tried to grab her. The sudden jolt threw the Kusanagi off balance, the bike skidding across the asphalt before crashing into a parked car. Thiago managed to leap off just in time, hitting the ground hard and rolling to a painful stop. He groaned, bruised and battered, but forced himself to his feet.

    ¡°Vomi!¡± he called, stumbling toward her.

    She was on the ground, her body writhing, arms clutching herself as though trying to hold everything together. The symbiote¡¯s black bodysuit was retracting, sinking beneath her skin, leaving her exposed. Thiago froze when he saw her. Her skin was no longer its usual tone but a soft, unnatural hue of light purple. Her once black hair was now stark white, like ash, and her eyes¡ªblack sclera with glowing orange irises¡ªwere alien and haunting.

    But what shook him most was her arm. Or rather, the lack of it.

    Her right arm was gone, a jagged stump where it should have been. Tendrils of biomass emerged, struggling to form a new limb, only to collapse and disintegrate before they could solidify. It was a horrific cycle of attempted regeneration and failure, leaving her in agony.

    "God¡­" Thiago muttered, his stomach churning at the sight. He winced, struggling to push the rising tide of panic aside. "This¡­ this is killing you."

    They had barely made it out of the M-Tech building, and already more officers were closing in. The sound of boots and barking orders echoed through the streets. Thiago groaned in frustration. Would these bastards ever give up? He couldn¡¯t fight them¡ªnot now, not like this. His arm was useless, the Saratoga was out of reach, and even if he had it, what difference would it make? They had better guns, better numbers, and better positions.

    He let out a resigned sigh, his fingers tightening on Vomi''s trembling shoulder. "Sorry, Katie," he whispered to himself, his voice filled with quiet regret. "Looks like I¡¯m not making it back this time."

    <hr>

    The car sped toward the desert, leaving the chaos of the city behind. Other civilians had the same idea as Cinthia¡ªgetting the hell out of San Fran before it swallowed them whole. But the exit was far from smooth. Traffic snarled into a sprawling mess as desperate drivers tried to escape, while overwhelmed cops failed to maintain order.

    Luckily, Cinthia knew the backroads. Hidden passages and forgotten routes allowed her and Raven to slip away from the gridlocked streets before things got worse. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the hum of the engine. The radio was silent too¡ªboth because no one was left to run the stations and because the klepped car¡¯s radio had been busted long before.

    Cinthia stole a glance at Raven, her sister staring blankly out the window, her world clearly shattered. Turning back to the sandy road ahead, she felt a swirl of emotions churn in her chest. Anger, sure¡ªbut also sadness, a helpless ache she didn¡¯t know how to shake. She wasn¡¯t as brave as Raven, never had been. But seeing her like this¡­ it wasn¡¯t right. It wasn¡¯t fair.

    Her grip tightened on the wheel as her resolve hardened. Fuck Green Rhythm. Fuck The Refused. Screw San Francisco, and every corpo-riddled cesspool out there. They were done with all of it. Somewhere out there was a place where corpo bullshit didn¡¯t poison everything it touched. She didn¡¯t care how far she had to drive or what she had to do to find it.

    Let the corpos fight. Let the city burn. They¡¯d keep their heads down, live like nobodies on the street. Better that than getting caught in the crossfire again.

    "You think... this would''ve happened if we never met her?"

    Raven¡¯s voice was distant, her eyes fixed on the sand dunes stretching across the horizon.

    Cinthia frowned, her knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. "What do you mean?"

    "If we never met Vomi. All of this... would it have happened anyway?" Raven asked, her gaze finally turning to her sister.

    Cinthia spared her a quick glance, then looked back at the road. "I don¡¯t know. And I don¡¯t care," she replied curtly, refusing to meet Raven¡¯s eyes.

    Raven sighed, sinking into her seat. "I guess... never mind."

    Cinthia let out a sharp exhale, her patience fraying. "Look, even if it was the case, we¡¯d still be stuck in that fucking traffic, waiting to get slaughtered with everyone else. At least this way, we¡¯re out. That¡¯s all that matters."

    Raven pointed ahead, abandoning the conversation. "There¡¯s a car up there."

    A police vehicle sat in the middle of the road, and two familiar figures stepped out¡ªa man and a little girl.

    Cinthia pulled up beside the car but didn¡¯t cut the engine. She rolled down her window. "Frank. You decided to delta too?"

    Frank nodded, glancing at the backseat of his car where Katie was sleeping soundly. "Thiago asked me to take her. Can¡¯t say no to that. This whole city¡¯s gone to hell."

    "Yeah," Cinthia muttered, steering her car off the road to pass his vehicle. "Got a place in mind?"

    "A few. Some people owe me favors," Frank replied, climbing back into his car. "Stick with me. I¡¯ll get us out."

    Before anyone could move, a searing white light erupted behind them, followed by an unbearable wave of heat.

    Cinthia¡¯s instincts kicked in. She slammed her foot on the gas, the car roaring as it surged forward. "Frank, MOVE!" she shouted over the radio.

    Frank¡¯s tires screeched as he hit the accelerator, pushing his car to its limits. Both vehicles raced into the desert, leaving behind the rising plume of destruction on the horizon.

    Fallout had arrived.

    <hr>

    A few seconds earlier...

    Kaneda stared at the surveillance feed, his jaw clenched. Vomi wasn¡¯t dying¡ªshe was evolving. Again.

    "This is unbelievable," Jinxiu muttered, her voice laced with frustration. "The serum didn¡¯t work. It¡¯s adapting, and fast."

    "Miranda was as useful as he was gullible," Kaneda said flatly, his hand hovering over a button labeled Engage. "The symbiotes adapt too quickly once mature. And Dr. Vomi has three of them."

    Jinxiu scowled, watching Vomi slaughter the remaining M-Tech personnel. "Thiago¡¯s just standing there, watching her take them all out. Even the failsafe didn¡¯t work."

    Kaneda turned to her with a cold smile. "Any last words?"

    "Fuck you."

    "As you wish." Kaneda pressed the button.

    <hr>

    Vomi stood in the aftermath, her chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her body was soaked in blood, her senses raw and overwhelmed. The pain from the serum gnawed at her insides, the void where the voices had been gnawed at her mind¡ªbut for now, she was stable. Barely.

    Thiago stumbled toward her, blood dripping from fresh wounds. "Vomi," he called out, his voice strained.

    She turned too fast, her arm instinctively swinging forward, stopping just inches from his chest. Her hand trembled in the air as she realized what she¡¯d almost done.

    He looked at her, exhausted but calm.

    She looked back, terrified.

    Then, without warning, Thiago grabbed her extended arm and pulled her into a tight embrace. The warmth of it broke through her panic like a lifeline.

    "You want some advice?" he murmured, his voice rough but steady.

    She didn¡¯t answer. She didn¡¯t even hug him back. But she cried¡ªsilent, trembling tears.

    "Trust in yourself. Only in yourself," Thiago said quietly. "And in the people who¡¯ve proven they¡¯re truly with you. Then do what you think is right. Nothing else matters."

    He pulled back slightly, resting a hand on her remaining arm. "Can you do that for me?"

    She nodded weakly.

    "Promise?"

    Her lips trembled as she whispered, "¡­¡­I... I Promise."

    It was her voice¡ªher real voice. Not the guttural growl of the symbiote, not the blend of countless minds. Just Vomi.

    Her.

    For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was herself again.

    It almost made Thiago forget the searing pain spreading through his body. Almost.

    Why was it burning?

    ¡­It didn¡¯t matter. The burning was gone now.

    Thiago smiled faintly, his knees buckling beneath him.

    At last, he could rest.

    Peace.

    <hr>

    In Night City, some gonk was out hustling BDs, hyping them up as ¡°top-tier¡± stuff. Spoiler: they weren¡¯t. He barely sold a few out of a whole backpack, the eddies were trash, and the cops kept eyeballing him like he was the problem¡ªmeanwhile, some poor gonk was getting mugged just across the street.

    But all of that didn¡¯t matter when everyone¡¯s attention snapped to the massive explosion lighting up the Northwest sky. Clear as day.

    ¡°Damn, another nuke?¡±

    ¡°I dunno. Just glad it¡¯s not here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, for real.¡±

    While the badge-wielders were too busy gawking at the big mushroom cloud, the BD hustler took his shot and slipped away unnoticed.

    ¡°Fucking doc¡¯s gonna get it for making me sell his shitty BDs,¡± he muttered, disappearing into the crowd.

 Chapter 37: "Wake the Fuck Up, Samurai." (Volume 2 start)

    David Martinez, a few months later

    Life in Night City has been... well, exactly what you''d expect. Doc saddled me with some garbage-tier BDs and told me to flip them for cash. Said he''d hook me up with an "associate discount" on future purchases, as if that was some nova deal. Who¡¯s he kidding? He already overcharges me for second-hand junk. What he''s offering barely qualifies as "standard price." Whatever. I need to hustle up my own eddies anyway; mom¡¯s already got more than enough on her plate.

    Then the badges decide to give me a hard time for selling BDs. Like that¡¯s the worst crime in Santo Domingo. Meanwhile, they turn a blind eye to actual, you know, crime. Hypocrisy much? And the irony? Half of those badges probably buy this dreck themselves. Preem. Real preem. Just play it cool, David. No point picking a fight I can¡¯t win.

    And speaking of losing battles¡ªArasaka Academy. Why the hell do I even bother? No one there gives a damn about a Santo rat like me. It''s just a shiny corpo farm, churning out more dead-eyed scumbags who¡¯ll never lift a finger to help anyone outside their towers. When was the last time someone like me actually clawed their way to the top without getting their throat slit along the way?

    I love my mom, but sometimes¡­ I really don¡¯t get her choices.

    I catch the train back to Doc¡¯s place, clutching my cut of the sales. Of course, "my cut" translates to about 15% after Doc takes his fair share. Because I¡¯m the one out here grinding while he¡ªwell, let¡¯s just say he¡¯s busy with ¡°other pursuits.¡±

    Case in point, as soon as I walk in the door, what¡¯s the first thing I see?

    Porn.

    Looooots and lots of pooooorn.

    ¡°Doc, you done?¡± I toss my backpack on the counter, doing everything in my power not to deck him.

    The guy raises his wreath, his face slack with that glazed-over BD look. ¡°D-Davey? When¡¯d you get here?¡±

    ¡°Just now.¡± I glare. ¡°Y¡¯know, when I first showed up with those Gorilla Arms, I thought you¡¯d be a decent partner. Now? Starting to feel like I made a gonk-level mistake.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Kid, you wouldn¡¯t last a day selling chrome without me.¡± Doc said while reaching his ¡°climax¡± at the ¡°object¡± he was using in his ¡°pelvis¡±.

    ¡°True, but you also pay me like crap,¡± I mutter, pulling out the eddies I scraped together. ¡°At this rate, I might actually find someone who values my time.¡±

    ¡°If you do, let me know. I could use better opportunities myself.¡± He grins, shameless as ever.

    ¡°Not in your dreams.¡±

    I count out the haul¡ªbarely four digits between the physical and digital stacks. Hell, I could make that flipping two busted Unities after a gang shootout. But mom made me promise to steer clear of that kind of thing. For now, anyway.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± Doc says, his optics flickering blue as he scans the stash. ¡°Yeah, these BDs are low-grade, but they still move.¡±

    ¡°No shit,¡± I roll my eyes. ¡°You get the eddies while I scrape the ennies.¡±

    ¡°Stop whining. I¡¯ve got another proposition for you.¡±

    ¡°Unless it¡¯s cyberware, I¡¯m out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s XBDs.¡±

    I stop. Slowly turn back. The smug bastard is grinning like he just won the lottery. Selling XBDs? Yeah, it¡¯s risky as hell, especially when you take into account the clients for said XBDs, but the payout¡­ Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m listening.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I say, crossing my arms. ¡°What¡¯s the play?¡±

    ¡°Knew you¡¯d bite. You¡¯re predictable, kid,¡± Doc chuckles.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just spit it out already,¡± I snap.

    And just like that, the next hustle begins.

    <hr>

    The XBDs were¡­ how do I even describe them? Extreme? Yeah, the name kinda gives that away. One of them had this relentless shootout between Maelstrom and Scavs¡ªboth sides going at it over a goddamn attachment. Not even a full gun. Just some piece of chrome that apparently meant the world to them. Weird as shit, but whoever edited the virtu was a straight-up wizard. I swear, it felt like those memories were mine. That¡¯s rare, even for high-end BDs.

    But here¡¯s the problem: if Doc¡¯s got his hands on something this polished, it only means two things. One, he¡¯s got a primo hookup with someone legit. And two? Selling this crap is gonna be an absolute nightmare.

    Why? Because XBDs aren¡¯t exactly your run-of-the-mill product. They¡¯re rare, yeah, but that¡¯s not the real issue. It¡¯s the content. You¡¯re hawking something that¡¯s basically a guided tour through gangland hell, and that¡¯s the kind of heat that can scorch your whole damn life.

    ¡°So,¡± Doc asks as I yank off the wreath, still trying to steady my breathing, ¡°how¡¯d it feel? Like dying in real time?¡±

    ¡°Jesus!¡± My voice slips into my Hispanic accent without meaning to. ¡°This shit is raw as fuck!¡±

    I have to sit there for a second, letting the adrenaline simmer down. My hands are shaking, my heart¡¯s pounding like I just came out of a real firefight.

    ¡°That¡¯s all the feedback I needed,¡± Doc says, nodding to himself like he just nailed a masterpiece.

    ¡°How the fuck did you even get this?¡± I ask, trying to focus through the buzz in my head.

    He shrugs like it¡¯s nothing. ¡°Had a few favors to cash in. A guy I know knows another guy who¡¯s into collecting and editing this kind of stuff. I just asked for a few cuts, and now I¡¯ll do the final tweaks before we move ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, you can handle that part.¡± I push myself off the couch, wobbling a bit before I find my footing. ¡°I gotta cool off before I flatline for real.¡±

    Doc smirks. ¡°I¡¯ll call you when it¡¯s ready. Don¡¯t stress.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I stress plenty. I¡¯m the one getting shot to shit in those memories.¡± I take a deep breath, still shaking it off. ¡°Anyway, I better catch a bus. Arroyo¡¯s a hike from here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s election day,¡± Doc says, already packing up the edit. ¡°Bus rides are free. So move your ass.¡±

    I pause mid-step. ¡°Wait, seriously?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how they sucker in voters.¡± He waves me off, already back to his work. ¡°C-YA.¡±

    <hr>

    Turns out, he wasn¡¯t lying. Free buses today. Lucky me. I hop on the first one heading toward Megabuilding H, grab a random seat, and pop in my earphones. My agent? Great for utility, total ass for music. I fire up my app instead, scrolling through my playlist. Sure, it¡¯s got ads after every song, but at least I get to pick what I¡¯m listening to instead of hoping some corpo DJ throws me a bone.

    Lately, I¡¯ve been stuck on The Refused. Their track Killing in the Name? Preem as fuck.

    The singer once said the album was originally created by the first members of The Refused, making the whole thing more of a tribute¡ªimmortalized in their own way. If she said that, and she¡¯s one of the few survivors of the San Francisco Holocaust, then those guys must¡¯ve been some real fucking legends. Famous and talented, no doubt. Fame¡­ now there¡¯s a thought for another day.

    Right now, I¡¯m just humming the lyrics, wondering how the hell the corpos didn¡¯t censor this track. It¡¯s practically a middle finger aimed right at them.

    ¡°Fuck you, I ain¡¯t doing what you tell me,¡± I whisper, feeling the bite of the final verse as the song builds to its explosive finish.

    The track ends just as I step off the bus, leaving me in this weird reflective headspace. I love the song¡ªit resonates with me, y¡¯know? But the truth? I am doing what people tell me. Hell, I have to. That¡¯s just life, right?

    Still, there¡¯s this part of me that thinks I could do more. Get a real job, do something that actually feels like mine, maybe take some of the weight off mom¡¯s shoulders for a change. But no, she¡¯s convinced Arasaka Academy is my ticket to success.

    Success? Sure. But not that. Whatever I¡¯m destined for, it¡¯s gotta be something greater than selling out to a corpo dream.

    But it¡¯s hard to say no to her.

    Ugh¡­ responsibility sucks.

    The door slides open as I get home, the usual soft hiss filling the silence. The first thing I see is mom, passed out on the couch like always. She works so damn hard that the few times I actually see her, she¡¯s either leaving for work or asleep. I decide not to bother her and head straight to my room.

    First stop: check if my Arasaka uniform is clean. Next: grab the wreath for digital lessons to see if there¡¯s anything new waiting to ruin my night. Just the usual mundane shit I deal with every day. After a quick rinse in the bathroom, I throw on some clean pants and a shirt, prepping myself mentally for whatever soul-sucking homework they¡¯ve dumped on me this time.

    Can we just admit it? Homework is the worst. I could do every lesson at the Academy during class hours, but no, I have to bring this crap home too. Like I don¡¯t already have enough to deal with.

    Whatever. I check what¡¯s on the docket, and surprise, it¡¯s laughably easy. Just some accounting simulation nonsense. The Academy¡¯s dumped harder stuff on me before, so this is nothing. The scenario? I¡¯m role-playing as a manager for a business that¡¯s basically public service. Paperwork, data management, documentation¡ªyawn. The kind of boring shit corpos either outsource or hoard depending on where they sit in the office hierarchy.

    The task is simple: assign ¡°staff¡± to positions based on their skills, salaries, and efficiency. Allocate resources, balance costs, then hit play to see how it pans out.

    And, as usual, I nail it with a perfect 100%.

    Like I said¡ªlaughably easy.

    I send the results and the virtu of my lesson to the Academy, yank the wreath off my neck, and hop onto social media¡ªor at least the scraps we have in the shallow end of cyberspace. Free access is rough. Not many sites unless they¡¯re government-approved. Luckily, Doc hooked me up with a device that lets me slip in as a ¡°guest account¡± on a few paid platforms. One of those is LabStream.Net, a site where people upload videos. Normally, it costs 20 eddies a week for the most basic subscription, but with this little workaround? Free.

    I browse for essays on Arasaka history, just to see the opinions floating around. It¡¯s the usual: a mix of gratitude and absolute hatred.

    I don¡¯t need to tell you which group I side with, do I?

    After some scrolling, I find another video about The Refused. It¡¯s an old interview with their lead singer. She¡¯s known for never showing her face in public. No idea why¡ªshe¡¯s got fame, talent, and a fanbase that worships her. Still, her music, along with the original members¡¯ tracks, is undeniably preem. One line from the interview sticks with me:

    ¡°I would like to write a song which would drive men mad, which would be like an open door leading them where they would never have consented to go, in short, a door that opens onto reality.¡±

    What the hell does that even mean? Why that of all things?

    Celebrities are weird.

    Shutting the terminal down, I decide to grab something to eat. ¡°Grab¡± being the key word, since I can¡¯t cook to save my life. But hey, I can work a microwave.

    I step into the kitchen and stare at what we¡¯ve got. The options are¡­ bleak.

    Instant ramen. Noodles. Instant noodles. Instant burrito noodles. And, for variety, instant ramen with burrito noodles.

    Oh, and spaghetti. With burritos.

    I really need to go shopping.

    Well, noodles it is.

    "Mi hijo, is that you?"

    I turned to see my mom, half-awake, wrapped in the yellow medical coat she uses as a blanket. She looked drowsy, barely awake, but still managing to reach out to me with that familiar warmth. I hit the microwave to start cooking the noodles and walked over to give her a hug¡ªshe could always use one.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    "Yup, it''s me," I said, still holding her tight.

    She returned the hug, but as I tried to step away, she held on a little longer. "Where have you been?"

    "Around," I replied casually. She finally let go. "Trying to pick up some extra cash. Got, uh... about 150 eddies. Not much, but it¡¯s something."

    "You¡¯re staying out of trouble, right?"

    I opened my mouth to respond, but thankfully the microwave dinged right then, saving me from giving a straight answer.

    "I made some¡ªwell, technically the microwave made them¡ªnoodles. Want some?"

    "Yes, I''m starving," she said with a tired smile.

    I handed her a cup and plopped down on the couch beside her. With the entertainment system flickering to life, we were both fed¡ªme with noodles, her with some mindless pop culture filler aimed at teens. Most of it missed the mark for me; unless it had high-octane action and a compelling story, it wasn¡¯t worth my time.

    We ate in comfortable silence for a while, but then I noticed her eyes flash gold as her agent lit up with a call.

    "Yes?" she answered, her tone switching to business mode. I half-listened, more focused on the TV.

    "Already? But I just got out of¡ª" she started, her voice tinged with frustration.

    From the sound of it, she was being called back to work. Again.

    "Wait, do you mean... that?" she said after a pause. "Yes, I can get you that, but only if the payment¡¯s ready. No, that depends on whether they complete their task first. Once it¡¯s done, I¡¯ll handle it."

    I had no clue what she was talking about or who she was talking to, but something about the words "special request" made me uneasy.

    "Alright, C-YA," she finished, the golden glow fading from her eyes. She slumped back, the exhaustion catching up with her.

    "Mom, what was that?" I asked, my curiosity and concern fighting to break through.

    She gave me a puzzled look. "What do you mean, Dee?"

    "You got a special request from work? Isn¡¯t that against... I don¡¯t know, some corporate policy or something?"

    She waved me off with a dismissive laugh. "Oh, don¡¯t worry about it. What¡¯s with all this sudden concern, huh? Trying to play the responsible son now?"

    I frowned but let the jab slide. "Come on, you already work yourself to the bone. Are you sure this is safe? Or even legal?"

    "In this city, anything is legal if you squint hard enough," she said, her voice suddenly sharp.

    It took me a second to realize her hostility wasn¡¯t aimed at me, but at the city itself.

    "Mi hijo, don¡¯t stress over this. I¡¯m not in any danger. It¡¯s just a favor I owe, and I intend to pay it."

    "You¡¯ve already paid enough, Mom," I said with a sigh. "Can¡¯t you take a break? The Academy eats most of your income as it is."

    She crossed her arms. "Don¡¯t talk like that about your education. It¡¯s just as important as Eurodollars."

    We¡¯d had this argument before, and as always, she made her point in a way I couldn¡¯t counter, no matter how hard I tried.

    I felt like an idiot¡ªor maybe just too scared to actually push back.

    So, I said the only thing that came to mind. "Only you would say ''Eurodollars'' instead of ''eddies.''"

    "A punk says ''eddies.'' A successful person knows the difference between jargon and proper words," she shot back, taking another bite of her noodles. "I guess I can¡¯t win this argument with you. You¡¯re young. And young people? They¡¯re just stupid like that."

    "H-hey!"

    "See?" she said with a sly grin.

    I slumped back against the couch, half offended but mostly agreeing with her. "Whatever," I muttered, turning my attention back to the TV.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m off. Don¡¯t forget to update your system. The Academy said there are new virtual exercises this semester,¡± she said, setting her empty noodle cup aside.

    Ah yes, the dreaded update. The one that costs more than it should. Guess I''ll be paying Doc a visit again.

    I really hope he¡¯s up for it because the legit version? Expensive as hell.

    ¡°I¡¯ll look into getting a cheaper update,¡± I said, finishing off my own noodles.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± she said, pointing a finger at me like a strict teacher. ¡°Cheaper versions might sound nice, but they¡¯ll end up costing more than the real thing when something inevitably breaks. Just get the legitimate update.¡±

    I nodded, mostly to avoid the lecture. ¡°Got it, Mom.¡±

    She seemed satisfied enough and grabbed her coat before heading out.

    Of course, I¡¯m not paying two thousand eddies for an update. That¡¯s insane. I don¡¯t even have that kind of money. Eurodollars... eddies... whatever, it''s all too much.

    Anyway, I guess I¡¯ll sleep on it and figure things out later. Maybe I¡¯ll swing by Doc¡¯s to see about his special deals. Not to mention, there¡¯s the XBDs he¡¯s always pushing.

    It¡¯s still bright outside, so there¡¯s plenty of time to take care of it.

    Thanks, free buses. And thanks, election day.

    <hr>

    The Next Day

    "Alright, Doc. Whatcha got for me?"

    Doc was fiddling with his cluttered workbench, digging through shards until he found the one I¡¯d tested yesterday. He slotted it into his terminal, copied it to a few fresh shards, and tossed a smug look my way.

    "The one you tried yesterday, plus a few more. I hope you¡¯ll at least watch them before busting out your so-called ¡®expert¡¯ selling techniques."

    "Oh, fuck off," I shot back, still uneasy about how intense that last one had been. "Let me see what you¡¯ve got."

    Doc handed over the shards, and I flipped through them. The first was the Strom x Scav shootout¡ªpretty wild but familiar. The second featured a solo merc on a carjacking gig, followed by a police chase. It seemed tame for an XBD... unless there was a twist. And then there was the third shard, titled Voluptuous Lactation.

    I stared at it, confused. "What the hell does ¡®lactation¡¯ even mean? Or ¡®voluptuous¡¯ for that matter?"

    "If it¡¯s tagged as an XBD, it must be good, right?" I muttered to myself, hoping it wasn¡¯t as weird as the title suggested.

    Doc raised an eyebrow. "You¡¯re staring at that one a bit too long, Davey. Wanna test it out, or are you silently judging me again?"

    "Oh, I judge you plenty already," I replied with a shrug. "I just don¡¯t know what it¡¯s about."

    His grin turned downright devilish. "Wanna find out the fun way?"

    Without thinking, I answered, "Sure. Might be nova to experience something new."

    "Oh, you¡¯re in for a ride, I''ll tell you that." he said, already prepping the wreath.

    As I settled into the chair and slipped on the wreath, a tiny voice in my head whispered regret. "Wait, what¡¯s¡ª"

    Too late. Doc hit the start button before I could even finish my sentence.

    The BD started in a dimly lit room. Maybe a bedroom? It was too dark to tell. All I knew was that I couldn¡¯t see a damn thing. As I tried to figure out what was going on, an overwhelming sense of pleasure hit me like a freight train. It was so intense I almost lost my composure.

    Then, suddenly, the perspective shifted. The blindfold that had obscured my vision was removed, revealing¡ª

    OH. MY. GOD.

    I¡¯M A WOMAN?!

    HAVING SEX?!?!

    I yanked the wreath off my head, ignoring the blaring safety warnings it gave. Screw the warnings¡ªwhat the hell did I just watch?!

    "DOC! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!? YOU ABSOLUTE BRAIN-POTATO MANIAC!!" I bellowed, barely able to process what had just happened.

    Doc¡¯s laughter filled the room. "You looked like you were really getting into it, though."

    "YOU ENJOY THIS STUFF?!" I shouted, still reeling.

    He just grinned. "Welcome to the world of Voluptuous Lactation."

    ¡°HOW?!¡±

    Doc leaned back in his chair, grinning like a proud inventor. ¡°Oh, c¡¯mon. You never wondered what it¡¯d be like to, you know, experience the other side of the action? Lots of people do¡ªhence why these sell like hotcakes. Trust me, they¡¯re a goldmine.¡± He nodded smugly before adding, ¡°Besides, looks like your little buddy down there agrees.¡±

    I glanced down, horrified to find¡­ yeah. Rock solid.

    Covering myself instinctively, I growled, ¡°You will never tell anyone about this.¡±

    He chuckled, unfazed. ¡°Then you¡¯d better hustle those XBDs to your classmates.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve got the cash to burn. Arasaka Academy¡¯s full of corporate brats with fat wallets.¡± He waved a hand dismissively as he returned to tinkering with some gadget. ¡°Besides, didn¡¯t you say you needed an update or whatever?¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°And you¡¯re counting the XBD sales as payment?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. You said you were broke, so I figured this could help you out.¡±

    That actually took me by surprise. ¡°Oh¡­ thanks. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s really decent of you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t celebrate yet,¡± Doc warned, holding up a finger. ¡°I¡¯m still taking 85%. But hey, at least you won¡¯t be left without eddies.¡±

    ¡°As per usual,¡± I muttered, standing up from the chair.

    ¡°As per usual,¡± he echoed with a grin.

    Doc grabbed the shards, slotted them into protective cases, and tossed them into a bag before handing it over. ¡°Done. Try to sell these before your virtual classes start. I¡¯ll get your update as soon as I can.¡±

    ¡°Preem. Thanks, Doc. C-YA.¡±

    Leaving the clinic, I decided to head straight for Heywood, specifically the train station near The Glen. It was always bustling with potential buyers. Sure, 6th Street had a presence there lately, but I couldn¡¯t afford to let a little gang trouble scare me off. Eddies were eddies, and if that meant taking a risk, so be it.

    Hopping on a free bus, I pulled out my phone to pass the time. Hitting shuffle on my playlist, I let the music choose for me.

    The opening chords of a track I didn¡¯t recognize began to play. Curious, I checked the artist. Samurai?

    The song¡¯s name popped up: Chippin¡¯ In.

    The chromatic rock vibe was heavy, the beat addictive. The lyrics were either funny or unnecessarily aggressive¡ªI couldn¡¯t tell which¡ªbut my head was already bobbing to the rhythm.

    Yeah, this song was preem.

    When the bus came to a stop, I bolted toward the main square near the metro and train stations. It was always teeming with people, making it a prime spot for business. There was an alley nearby I could delta into if I needed a quick exit, so I set up shop there, grabbing a handful of shards to start.

    Taking a deep breath, I launched into my pitch.

    ¡°Alright, chooms! Fresh BDs hot off the presses! Straight from the blackest markets you¡¯ll find! Three new recordings, each with more surprises than the last¡ªtrust me, even I was caught off guard!¡±

    Okay, maybe not the slickest PR, but in Night City, that¡¯s enough to pull in the curious gonks.

    A few heads turned, and soon I had a small crowd forming. I rattled off prices, answered questions¡ªsome with more awkwardness than others. One guy wanted details on Voluptuous Lactation. Explaining that was¡­ an experience I¡¯d rather forget. But hey, business is business, right?

    Sales were decent¡ªnot as many as I¡¯d hoped, but definitely better than yesterday¡¯s haul. XBDs always draw attention, whether from serious buyers or people just looking to satisfy their curiosity. Within an hour, I¡¯d made the same amount as the entire day before, and I still had more inventory to push.

    ¡°Final offer here, folks! Grab one while you still can!¡± I shouted, trying to drum up one last surge of buyers.

    That¡¯s when I noticed them: a group of guys dressed way too patriotic for my liking.

    One of them sauntered over, sizing me up with a casual air. ¡°What are you selling, boy? Sure you should be on this turf?¡±

    ¡°Just BDs,¡± I replied, keeping my tone neutral but puzzled. ¡°And as far as I know, there shouldn¡¯t be a problem, right?¡± I quickly shifted focus, holding out a shard. ¡°Take a look¡ªbet you¡¯ll find something preem in my stash.¡±

    He smirked, but his tone carried an edge. ¡°I don¡¯t think you caught my drift¡­ but sure, why not? Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got, choom.¡±

    The way he said ¡°choom¡± sent a shiver down my spine, but I handed over the shard anyway, trying to keep my cool.

    He slotted the shard into a spare wreath and fired up the Strom x Scav shootout. Within seconds, his jaw went slack, and he started drooling¡ªprobably overwhelmed by the carnage on display. I let him stew for a bit before reaching over and switching off the wreath. Predictably, he snapped out of it, glaring at me.

    ¡°Hey! What gives?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m selling here,¡± I replied, voice flat. ¡°That was your sample. Even if I let you finish it, you¡¯d still only get a teaser. You want the full experience? Fork over the eddies.¡±

    His buddy, equally decked out in patriotic flair, nudged him. ¡°He¡¯s got a point, y¡¯know.¡±

    ¡°The fuck you mean he¡¯s got a point?¡± the first guy shot back, his anger shifting. ¡°Are you a gonk, or just dumb as hell?¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± said a third guy, stepping forward. His tone was calm, but it carried a hint of authority. ¡°He¡¯s on our turf. We decide what happens with wannabes.¡±

    Wait, what?

    "Wait, what?" I barely got the words out before a fist connected with my face, sending me sprawling and spitting blood onto the pavement.

    "You''re dense as a wall, kid," the so-called leader sneered, standing over me. "We''re 6th Street. You should know we don''t allow biz like that here."

    Great. Time to delta.

    I scrambled to my feet, ready to bolt toward the alley I''d scoped out earlier, but before I could take a single step, someone yanked my backpack hard enough to drag me backward. Another punch landed square on my face, this one harder than the first. Stars exploded in my vision as I hit the ground, the impact rattling my spine.

    Lying there, staring up at the sky, I couldn''t help but let my mind wander.

    Seriously? Is this it? Is this what life has in store for me? A punching bag for anyone who can''t stand to see someone else get ahead? Just some random nobody with nothing to his name-no pride in finishing something, no achievements to call his own, no reputation that makes people nod and say, "Yeah, that''s him" or something like that?

    If that''s the punchline, life''s got the worst sense of humor I''ve ever seen.

    And the funny thing? I can''t help but laugh at it anyway.

    <hr>

    The 6th Street punks decided to have their fun with David. He was still on the ground, bloodied and probably too dazed to get up, or maybe he¡¯d already given up before even trying. Either way, they didn¡¯t care. One of them straddled him, raining punches on his face, each one landing with a sickening thud.

    At first, they laughed at how this kid¡ªthis Hispanic nobody¡ªdidn¡¯t even bother to fight back. It was almost pathetic. But then, something strange happened. With every punch, David started¡­ laughing.

    Not a nervous chuckle or a broken sob. No, this was full-blown laughter, the kind you¡¯d hear from someone who just heard the best, most twisted joke of their life.

    The 6th Street crew froze, fists mid-swing. They stared at him, confused. What kind of psycho laughs while getting their face caved in? He wasn¡¯t begging, wasn¡¯t scared¡ªhell, he didn¡¯t even look like he cared.

    It unsettled them. Was this kid just unhinged? Or worse, someone important¡ªa hidden player, a solo, or a psycho who¡¯d snap and paint the alley red? His laughter wasn¡¯t cocky or defensive; it was something else, something that made their stomachs churn.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± one of them muttered, stepping back.

    David wiped the blood from his mouth, still grinning like he¡¯d just won the lottery. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he taunted, staggering to his feet. His voice was shaky, but the smirk on his face didn¡¯t waver. ¡°You little pussies done already? Can¡¯t finish what you started?¡±

    The gang exchanged uneasy glances, silently searching for a plan, an excuse¡ªanything. But no one stepped up.

    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ let¡¯s get out of here,¡± one of them finally muttered, the tension in his voice palpable.

    The decision wasn¡¯t really his, though. A small crowd of other 6th Street members had gathered nearby, watching the scene unfold. They didn¡¯t cheer, didn¡¯t step in¡ªjust stood there, some subtly shaking their heads. It was a quiet, unspoken order to back off.

    ¡°Yeah, whatever,¡± the guy who¡¯d been beating on David said, backing away with a nervous laugh. ¡°Forget this lunatic.¡±

    David spat blood onto the ground, smirking at them with a wild gleam in his eye. ¡°Bunch of bitches,¡± he said.

    The gang didn¡¯t reply, shuffling off like they¡¯d just seen a ghost.

    Once they were gone, David turned to a cracked mirror hanging in the alley and stared at his reflection. His face was a bloody mess. He prodded at a swollen lip and winced.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll be seeing Doc sooner than I thought. Mom¡¯s gonna kill me if she sees this.¡±

    David wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, though it didn¡¯t do much to clean the blood smearing his cheek. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as the adrenaline began to wear off, replaced by a throbbing ache in his head and ribs.

    The bag of XBDs was still lying on the ground nearby, half-crushed under a dirty bootprint. He stumbled over to it, picked it up, and checked inside. Miraculously, most of the shards were intact, save for one that had cracked in two.

    "Figures," he muttered, stuffing the bag under his arm. "Still better than nothing."

    The alley was empty now except for him. The other 6th Street members had melted into the crowd, either unwilling or uninterested in dealing with the aftermath. It was probably for the best; he didn¡¯t feel like explaining why a bloody, bruised teenager was selling illicit brain dances in their turf.

    The sun was starting to dip behind the buildings, painting the street in long shadows. He glanced at the cracked screen of his phone, grimacing at the time. He still had to finish selling these shards before he could even think about heading back to Doc¡¯s.

    Pulling his hoodie up over his head to hide the worst of his injuries, David trudged toward the metro station. The pain in his face was bad, but the deeper sting was the realization that the day had gone so far south.

    ¡°One step forward, two steps back¡±, he thought bitterly. ¡°Story of my fucking life.¡±

    As he boarded the train, he leaned back against the window, letting the rhythmic hum of the tracks soothe his nerves. He replayed the incident in his mind, his lips twitching into a wry smile despite himself.

    Those assholes really thought they¡¯d broken him. And maybe, for a second, they had. But he wasn¡¯t going to let them have the last laugh.

    ¡°Alright, Night City,¡± he whispered under his breath. ¡°Round two. Let¡¯s see who breaks first.¡±

    The train jolted to a stop, and David stepped off, clutching the bag tighter. The crowd around him was oblivious, just another group of corpos, gangers, and dreamers chasing whatever scraps they could in the city.

    Time to sell what he could, get his cut, and patch himself up. One more fight, one more day. That¡¯s how it always was in Night City.

 Chapter 38: Runaway.

    David Martinez, a week later

    "Doc, you got the update?" I ask for what feels like the fifth time, sliding the shards profits onto his counter.

    Funnily enough, ever since the 6th Street incident last week, no one had bothered me. It was odd, but I wasn¡¯t about to question it. Clients were coming in, and I was finally pulling in some decent eddies. No complaints there.

    What I did have complaints about was Doc¡¯s stalling.

    "DOC!"

    ¡°Bwuah!¡± Doc jolted, spinning toward me with wide eyes. ¡°When the hell did you get here, you little shit?¡±

    ¡°About¡­¡± I glanced at the time on my agent, the screen glowing blue against my eyes. ¡°..fifteen minutes ago. You¡¯ve been fiddling with my wreath this whole time and ignoring me.¡±

    I tossed the bag at him with a little extra force. ¡°Check the shards and give me my cut already, you prick.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re way too impatient for your own good,¡± he muttered, catching the bag and dumping its contents onto the counter. He picked through the shards, his expression shifting to something close to impressed. ¡°Oh, preem. Almost 3 kays this time.¡±

    ¡°Glad you noticed,¡± I deadpanned. ¡°Now, I¡¯m no math genius, but 15% of 3k is 450 eddies. So, hand it over.¡±

    Doc sighed dramatically, turned to grab the wreath, and his eyes flashed gold as he accessed his system. A second later, my account pinged with the transfer, and he slid the device back to me.

    ¡°There. Don¡¯t say I¡¯ve never done anything for you.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t,¡± I shot back, grabbing the wreath. ¡°You make me pay for everything.¡±

    ¡°Capitalism,¡± Doc said with a smirk, all faux wisdom. ¡°Besides, I get free entertainment watching you flail around. I think I¡¯ll send you some more mature BDs to test next time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not interested.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I saw last time.¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯m not interested.¡±

    ¡°Davey, you¡¯re blushing.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡±

    ¡°Have you even popped your cherry?¡±

    ¡°And this conversation is over.¡±

    Doc burst into laughter, full-on cackling as if he¡¯d just heard the funniest joke in the world.

    Well, at least I hadn¡¯t admitted anything.

    Shit. I hadn¡¯t denied it, either.

    ¡°I am not a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Too late, kid!¡± he wheezed between laughs. ¡°Mistake made, secret exposed!¡±

    I clenched my fists, staring daggers at him. If I ever get my hands on a decent piece of iron, my first bullet¡¯s going straight into his gonk-ass head.

    ¡°You done?¡±

    ¡°For now? Y-yeah, I guess¡­¡± Doc struggled to hold back his laughter, his face turning red from the effort.

    I sighed, deciding it was time to leave. I had that digital class tomorrow, and my update needed to work properly by then. I grabbed my backpack, stuffing the unsold shards back inside, and turned to head out. Just as I reached the door, Doc tossed a cased shard my way.

    ¡°Catch!¡± he called out.

    I barely managed to grab it before it hit the floor.

    ¡°Check these two out when you get home,¡± he said with a smug grin. ¡°Fresh material. One¡¯s from yesterday¡¯s Cyberpsycho incident.¡±

    I blinked, stunned. ¡°Wait, what? That just happened! How the hell did you¡ª¡±

    ¡°As I said, Davey, I¡¯ve got favors to pull.¡± He spun around, slipping on a wreath to dive back into whatever shady biz he did when I wasn¡¯t around. ¡°Now, close the door on your way out.¡±

    ¡°Riiiiight,¡± I muttered, heading out without bothering to close the door behind me. Let him deal with that for once.

    I fished out my eddies to pay for the bus ride home. For some reason, the fares had dropped recently¡ªprobably thanks to the new mayor trying to keep his promises. I wasn¡¯t exactly an expert in politics, but even the Academy had drilled into us that new officials always try to look good at first. It wouldn¡¯t last, but hey, I¡¯d enjoy cheaper rides while I could.

    The bus ride was uneventful, save for my phone randomly deciding to play some low-key tune I didn¡¯t recognize. "I Need to Stay at Your House," or something. It wasn¡¯t bad, just¡­ decent. Yeah, decent.

    The bus dropped me off a few blocks from my place in Arroyo. The usual faces were out, including a kebab vendor I¡¯d known for years.

    ¡°Sup, David?¡± he called as I passed. ¡°How¡¯s the Academy treating ya?¡±

    ¡°Same as always¡ªfull of corpotards,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°What¡¯re you cooking up today?¡±

    ¡°New shipment of Biotechnica meat,¡± he said, holding up a skewer. ¡°Cheaper and, believe it or not, tastier than the usual crap.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that even possible?¡±

    ¡°No idea, and I don¡¯t give a flying fuck,¡± he said bluntly, tossing the skewer back on the grill. ¡°But if I can keep my prices the same, people think I¡¯m working some kinda miracle.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯ve always made the blandest meat taste like gold,¡± I said honestly. His kebabs were legendary around here.

    ¡°Heh, you fishing for a discount?¡±

    ¡°Maybe?¡±

    We both laughed. It was nice¡ªjust a regular conversation where I didn¡¯t have to overthink every word. The Academy never gave me that luxury.

    ¡°Anyway, I gotta delta,¡± I said, remembering the mountain of work waiting for me. ¡°Academy calls.¡±

    ¡°Shit, my condolences.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    With a small wave, I left the vendor behind, kebab-less but slightly less annoyed at life. Conversations like that reminded me there was still something human about this city. Not everything was corpos, politics, or survival of the fittest. Some things just¡­ were.

    The walk home was uneventful, which was exactly how I didn''t like it. The streets of Arroyo weren¡¯t the safest, but I knew my way around. I kept my head down, hands shoved in my pockets, and avoided eye contact with anyone who looked like they had nothing to lose.

    Finally, I made it to my building. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªchipped paint, rusting metal, and elevators that only worked half the time¡ªbut it was home. Climbing the stairs to my floor, I could hear the usual mix of sounds: someone arguing loudly in Spanish, kids laughing a few doors down, and some poor soul trying to get their artificial dog to stop barking.

    Unlocking the door, I stepped into my one-room slice of heaven. The air was stale, the lights flickered, and the couch I used as both a bed and a workstation looked like it hadn¡¯t been cleaned since the 2020s. Still, it was mine.

    Tossing my bag on the floor, I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the couch. For a moment, I just stared at the ceiling, letting the silence sink in. The day had been long¡ªhell, the week had been long. But I couldn¡¯t afford to stop.

    I pulled out the cased shard Doc had given me and held it up to the light.

    ¡°Cyberpsycho incident, huh?¡± I muttered. Doc wasn¡¯t kidding about favors¡ªthis was fresh.

    Probably too fresh. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that watching it would pull me into something I wasn¡¯t ready for, but curiosity had a way of overriding caution. Slotting the shard into my wreath, I took a deep breath and braced myself.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    <hr>

    The moment the BD ended, I found myself pacing around the sofa, my body buzzing with restless energy. My muscles tensed up so much I almost gave myself a cramp. James Norris¡­ man, that guy was a force of nature. Yeah, sure, cyberpsychosis and all that, but combining raw skill, calculated rage, and near-perfect precision? That wasn¡¯t just chaos¡ªit was artistry, the kind that made your skin crawl and your adrenaline spike.

    I yanked the wreath off my neck and hit up Doc on the call. He was waiting, probably grinning on the other end like the smug bastard he always was.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the verdict? Preem, right? Fresh off the feed, just a couple of hours old. Lifted it off some Edgerunner who scrolled it live.¡±

    ¡°That was so whacked!¡± I blurted, unable to hold back my excitement. My brain was still buzzing from the BD¡¯s intensity, the thrill of living through a cyberpsycho rampage near Corporate Plaza just hours ago. ¡°Doc, you gotta tell me who gets you this preem stuff!¡±

    ¡°Who else but Kurosaki?¡± he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°Ain¡¯t nobody in Night City cutting BDs like that legend. You won¡¯t find anything half as choom on the shelves, I¡¯ll tell you that.¡±

    ¡°No shit, my brain¡¯s still in overdrive!¡± I said, staring at the chip in my hand. Kurosaki¡¯s signature branding glinted faintly on its casing. ¡°This is gonna blow up on the streets. Instant nova.¡±

    ¡°Take it easy, kid,¡± Doc said, suddenly adopting a tone of mock concern. ¡°You just walked outta the head of a skezzed-out chrome junkie. Cyberpsychosis is no joke, choom. Take a few deep breaths before you flatline yourself.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever,¡± I muttered, already eyeing the second shard he¡¯d given me. ¡°What¡¯s next? Gimme the deets.¡±

    Without waiting for an answer, I slotted the new chip. As the BD booted up, I saw¡ª

    You know what? Screw Doc and his obsession with porn BDs.

    ¡°Cut the shit, Doc!¡± I yelled, ripping the chip out and chucking it at the wall. Realizing my mom would kill me if she saw broken shards lying around, I quickly scrambled to pick it up.

    ¡°What? Thought you¡¯d like it,¡± Doc said, feigning innocence. ¡°Since you were such a fan of Voluptuous Lactation, I figured another standard¡ª¡±

    I ended the call before he could finish the sentence.

    Seriously, I¡¯m gonna zero that gonk one day. If it¡¯s the last thing I do, it¡¯ll be putting a bullet between his smug eyes.

    Anyway, I¡¯ve got bigger problems¡ªlike washing my ¡®Saka uniform. And my spare. Gonk that I am, I really need to start taking better care of my stuff.

    I grabbed the washing powder¡ªor whatever it¡¯s called¡ªand set up the washer. Timer on, settings adjusted, everything ready to clean my laundry. I stared blankly at the machine for a moment, zoning out as it whirred to life. Then, it stopped. Not because it was broken, but because life loves kicking me when I¡¯m down.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I muttered, startled by the sudden ding.

    ¡°Cycle suspended due to insufficient funds,¡± the machine announced cheerfully, like it wasn¡¯t ruining my night.

    ¡°Oh, not this again¡­¡±

    Lucky for me, Mom had come home after I finished with Doc¡¯s BDs. She hates those things, so I dodged that bullet. But as I walked into the living room, the TV was showing the aftermath of the same BD I¡¯d just watched¡ªthe carnage near Corporate Plaza.

    Mom was passed out on the couch, her usual spot after work. I walked over and gave her a few pokes.

    ¡°God, Mom¡­ we have beds, you know,¡± I said, earning a tired mumble of ¡°good morning,¡± even though it was the middle of the night.

    ¡°I know, mi hijo,¡± she muttered, barely awake. ¡°Just dead from work, is all.¡±

    ¡°You and the washing machine both. You forgot to re-up it, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t wash my uniforms without it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll handle it tomorrow, okay?¡± she said, stretching. The cracks and pops from her joints made me wince. ¡°Oh, right, money. Did you get that update for the academy?¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine,¡± I waved dismissively, hoping she¡¯d drop it. ¡°Doc took care of it for me.¡±

    Of course, she didn¡¯t drop it. She never does.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®handled it¡¯?¡± she asked, eyebrows raised.

    ¡°It¡¯s all set. All good,¡± I said, trying again to dodge the conversation.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go cutting corners, Dee,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I already cashed my paycheck. You¡¯ll get the update properly. Hear me?¡±

    ¡°Mom, seriously!¡± I said defensively, my patience wearing thin. ¡°J-just feed the washer, will ya?¡±

    ¡°I told you, I forgot to pay this time,¡± she said, crossing her arms. ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll get the update.¡±

    ¡°...Fine, alright,¡± I lied through my teeth.

    ¡°And what are you wearing to school tomorrow?¡± she asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

    ¡°Well, the Arasaka Academy jacket is still clean¡ª¡±

    ¡°Because you never wear it,¡± she interrupted, frowning.

    ¡°¡ªwhich means I can just wear whatever passes for formal under the jacket,¡± I finished, pretending her comment didn¡¯t sting.

    ¡°Alright, show me.¡±

    Sighing, I went to my room, rummaged through my closet, and threw together an outfit. I settled on a plain black shirt, some preem pants I got on sale, and a pair of white-blue neon shoes. To top it off, I grabbed my Arasaka jacket¡ªgrey and red, dull as ever¡ªand slipped on a cross necklace.

    I strutted back to Mom, feeling mildly proud of my workaround.

    ¡°You are not going out dressed like that,¡± she said flatly.

    ¡°But the washer¡¯s toast, and my uniform¡¯s soaked,¡± I said, trying to sound apologetic. Then I paused. ¡°Oh hey, that rhymes.¡±

    Mom sighed deeply. ¡°...You are insufferable sometimes.¡±

    "The military-grade implant was missing from the body..."

    The announcer''s voice on the TV caught my attention, and I turned toward the screen.

    Wait. My mom¡¯s on TV?

    ¡°Mom, look! It¡¯s you!¡± I blurted out, pointing at the screen with way too much excitement. ¡°That¡¯s nova!¡±

    ¡°Not nova, David¡ªthat¡¯s a bloodbath,¡± she snapped, her voice sharp enough to make me flinch, ¡°Now, to bed. You have school tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Uh, y-yeah. Got it. Good night.¡± I scrambled to retreat, trying not to push my luck.

    ¡°Love you, mi hijo,¡± she called after me.

    I didn¡¯t dare respond. Not because I didn¡¯t want to, but because I was terrified of saying something gonk and getting another lecture.

    Back in my room, my bed felt like a fortress, and the blanket? The best shield I¡¯d ever had.

    <hr>

    Morning arrived in a flash, and I went through my usual Academy-day routine: scarfing down some of the noodles we always had stashed, grabbing a quick shower, staring at my reflection long enough to convince myself I looked decent, and giving my hair a quick gel for that preem touch. Once I was set, I headed out.

    I passed the usual mix of bums and homeless folks sheltering in the Megabuilding, exchanged nods with a few familiar faces, and eventually made my way to the trash chute area.

    And then, like always, I took the express route.

    I dropped down into the trash pile below, landing on my feet like a pro, straightened up, and hit play on my phone. The first track? "Who¡¯s Ready for Tomorrow" by Rat Boy. Fitting. The guy might¡¯ve retired as a solo after a gig gone wrong, but damn, he could still crank out some killer beats.

    As the song pumped through my ears, I stepped into the blinding sunlight of Night City, trying not to get blinded outright. The usual chaos unfolded around me: a dude getting robbed across the street, some gonks watching sex BDs in public (pretty standard for Arroyo), someone vomiting their guts out at the NCart InstaFood, and an AV speeding past toward a burning building, Trauma Team in tow.

    Just another day in paradise.

    I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the train. My mind wandered back to the broadcast from last night¡ªthe scene where my mom was working. I couldn''t help but grin. One day, I¡¯d be out there, but walking away alive. I couldn¡¯t stop myself from fantasizing about how I¡¯d handle things differently if I were James Norris. Hell, if I had his chrome, MaxTac wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.

    Then something caught my eye. A flash of pastel-colored hair. Weird enough to grab my attention, but by the time I tried to get a better look, they were already gone.

    Oh well. Time to keep moving.

    I jogged the rest of the way to the Academy, hands stuffed in my pockets, and made my way into the towering Arasaka building. Inside, it was the usual sterile scene: guys in suits, girls in long-skirted uniforms, everyone walking around like their lives were pre-programmed. I headed to my class, took my spot, and hopped onto the reclining device we used for wreaths.

    ¡°Good day, class,¡± the holo-attendant droned, its voice painfully formal. ¡°Today¡¯s attendance is full. No absences.¡±

    I tuned it out until it said my name.

    ¡°Martinez, you are not in compliance with the Academy¡¯s dress code.¡±

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Yeah, sorry about that,¡± I lied smoothly. ¡°Uniform¡¯s still in the washer.¡±

    ¡°And your spare uniform?¡±

    ¡°Same deal. Washer.¡±

    ¡°Very well. After class, please file a uniform exception. Now, we will proceed...¡±

    I stopped listening as I adjusted my wreath, bracing for another day of mind-numbing lessons.

    That is, until Katsuo decided to call me in the middle of class through his agent.

    Seriously, what does this guy have against me? If he put even a fraction of the energy he spends bothering me into his studies, he¡¯d probably be top of the class. Then again¡­ wait, isn¡¯t he already below me?

    Ha. That¡¯s hilarious.

    ¡°What are you laughing at, street rat?¡± His voice came through the neural comms, sharp and condescending. He must¡¯ve caught the smirk on my face.

    One good thing about agent calls? You don¡¯t have to speak out loud if you¡¯ve got internal comms installed, which I do. Perfect for private conversations¡ªor insults no one else can hear.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I replied casually, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

    ¡°If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t even show my face here. You¡¯re a disgrace to this class. To this Academy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, whatever,¡± I muttered. ¡°But you¡¯re here because your dad forced you, while I¡¯m here because I actually want to learn.¡± Technically not true¡ªmy mom wanted me here¡ªbut close enough.

    ¡°With that ancient tech you¡¯re lugging around? Is it even compatible with the latest updates?¡± Katsuo ignored the jab at his nepotism. Not that he¡¯d understand it anyway.

    Which is fine by me. Katsuo might be the most protected kid in the Academy, but he¡¯s not the sharpest shard in the stack.

    ¡°I made it compatible,¡± I muttered, already regretting engaging him.

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± I said, adjusting the wreath around my neck.

    ¡°Must suck to live a life where a secondhand wreath costs your life savings,¡± he sneered, putting on his own wreath.

    I¡­ kind of agree with him. But also, not really? Does that even make sense?

    Anyway, the class started, and we all dove into the virtual space. Everything was fine for about two seconds until my wreath flashed an error screen.

    Wait¡­ Doc, don¡¯t tell me you¡ª

    The last thing I saw was a bunch of angry teenagers glaring at me and the teacher¡¯s holo glitching out mid-air, corrupted beyond recognition.

    Ah, shit.

    <hr>

    ¡°Kapitan, I have eyes on our target, but he¡¯s being tailed by another car,¡± a man reported over comms, his heavy Russian accent cutting through the static. ¡°Looks like the Animals¡ªif their car¡¯s livery is anything to go by.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not actual animals, but they sure try to act like it,¡± a female voice replied, her thick Polish accent underscored by the sound of a drag on a cigarette and a raspy cough. ¡°Hold position until the captain arrives. Let¡¯s see how she wants to handle it.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± The Russian acknowledged with a curt, militaristic tone. ¡°I¡¯ll keep them in my sights.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m merging onto the highway now. Do you have a visual of me riding my bike?¡± another voice came through, calm and commanding. It was the captain, her tone unmistakably composed.

    ¡°Kapitan in sight,¡± the Russian confirmed promptly.

    ¡°Good. Here¡¯s the mission: protect the corpo suit, secure the crowns¡ª¡± she paused briefly, correcting herself, ¡°I mean, the eddies¡ªand escort him to safety. Once it¡¯s done, we¡¯re out.¡±

    ¡°Still hard to speak English.¡± the Polish handler chimed in, stifling a small laugh.

    ¡°You get used to it,¡± the Captain and the Russian said in unison.

    ¡°Oh, some civilian vehicles near the target,¡± the Russian noted as he scanned the area again.

    ¡°We¡¯ll worry about civilian casualties later,¡± a mature American voice cut in, calm but with a trace of sharpness. ¡°Not like anyone¡¯s getting hurt¡ªat least not if our Kapitan here takes things seriously.¡±

    ¡°Shut it, Vicky,¡± the Captain said with a chuckle.

    ¡°See? My point exactly.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Kapitan, from here on out, it¡¯s just you and me,¡± the Russian said as the comms cleared of chatter. ¡°Let¡¯s secure the target and bring him home.¡±

    The Captain twisted the throttle, and the alien-like motorcycle roared to life. The bike surged forward with the power of a race car, slicing through traffic as if it weren¡¯t even there. She quickly closed the distance to the Animals, keeping them in sight but refraining from engagement. Per the contract, they couldn¡¯t act until the Animals displayed hostile intent toward the suit¡ªan infuriating limitation, but orders were orders.

    The highway scene nagged at her, a persistent sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu making her hesitate just enough to decelerate slightly. Something about the cars, the highway layout, the exact positioning of the vehicles¡­

    Then it hit her. She remembered.

    But only after the Animals pulled out an LMG and opened fire on the suit¡¯s car, tearing through a civilian vehicle caught in the middle like it was made of paper.

    A sniper shot rang out, precise and sudden. The Russian¡¯s calm voice came through the comms, ¡°One down.¡±

    The Captain, still on her roaring motorcycle, pulled an SMG with one hand and let loose a burst, expertly taking out two of the Animals in a single magazine. ¡°That should deal with these clowns,¡± she muttered, satisfied.

    ¡°Vehicle¡¯s clear,¡± the Russian confirmed. ¡°No other hostiles inside. I¡¯ll take my car and escort the target from here. How about you let me handle the office work for once, eh?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, glancing back toward the wreckage of a civilian car that had crashed into the guardrail during the crossfire. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got it covered.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be off, then,¡± he replied, ending the call.

    The Captain guided her bike toward the crash site, slowing as she approached. A red-haired woman lay crumpled on the pavement beside the wrecked car, and inside the passenger seat was a teenager, pale and wide-eyed. Remarkably, they¡¯d used seat belts¡ªan unusual sight in Night City.

    Kneeling beside the woman, the Captain quickly assessed her injuries. Years of experience told her the woman wouldn¡¯t survive this without Trauma Team¡¯s platinum-tier care, and that wasn¡¯t happening. Her injuries were too severe for a standard Ripperdoc.

    As she moved closer, the teenager in the car locked eyes with her. He yelled protectively of what was likely his mother.

    ¡°Hey! What are you doing to my mom?!¡± he shouted, voice cracking with fear and anger.

    The Captain didn¡¯t bother responding to the teenager¡¯s outburst. Instead, she calmly picked up the injured woman and activated her comms. ¡°Vicky,¡± she called out, her tone steady and efficient.

    The kid wouldn¡¯t understand what was happening, and even if he did, there was little he could do. Before he could react further, the Captain raised her smart pistol and fired a sedative round. The boy¡¯s head slumped forward as unconsciousness took him instantly.

    With a sigh, she yanked the car door off with her chrome arm, revealing the teen slumped in his seat. He was clearly injured, though not as badly as his mother. Still, there was no guarantee either would make it. Carefully, she lifted him out and glanced at the wreckage. This detour was going to cost her time¡ªand possibly more than that.

    ¡°Vicky? We¡¯ve got two new patients,¡± she said briskly, not even waiting for the usual greeting.

    ¡°Civilians caught in the crossfire?¡± Vicky¡¯s voice crackled back, a hint of exasperation mingled with worry.

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± the Captain confirmed. ¡°And it¡¯s bad. Even with our skills, I don¡¯t think we can save both. We¡¯re going to have to choose¡­ one of them could be a new me.¡±

    There was a pause, heavy with unspoken tension. ¡°...Are you sure?¡± Vicky finally asked, his voice quieter now, the weight of her words sinking in.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°...Shit. Fine. Bring them to Misty¡¯s. I¡¯ll get everything prepped.¡±

    ¡°Preem,¡± she replied, ending the call. ¡°See you there.¡±

    <hr>

    David Martinez, Unknown Location

    I woke up staring at the bright, blinding sky. The heat was oppressive, pinning me down until my eyes adjusted to the sunlight. My whole body felt like a furnace, drenched in sweat, every nerve screaming in discomfort¡ªthen, suddenly, nothing. The pain vanished. The heat subsided. Just like that, I felt¡­ fine.

    How is that even possible? One second, I¡¯m on the brink of collapse, and the next, I¡¯m totally nova. That doesn¡¯t make a lick of sense.

    Finally, I managed to sit up, shaking my head to clear the lingering grogginess. But as my surroundings came into focus, one thought crashed into me like a freight train.

    ¡°Where the fuck am I?¡±

    The endless expanse of desert stretched in every direction¡ªsand, scrubby bushes, cacti. No roads. No landmarks. No Night City.

    How did I end up here? I¡¯ve never left the city in my life, so why am I out in this godforsaken wasteland¡ª

    MOM!

    Panic shot through me like an electric surge. Where was she? I frantically scanned the horizon, hoping for anything¡ªany sign of civilization, any clue about her. But there was nothing. Just heat waves rippling over the barren landscape.

    I tried to stay calm. She took a bad hit in the crash. But someone must¡¯ve found us, right? Mom¡¯s EMT. TraumaTeam must¡¯ve picked her up. I clung to the thought like a lifeline. She had to be okay. She had to.

    But what if she wasn¡¯t?

    My stomach twisted. No. I couldn¡¯t think like that. I had to find her. Fast.

    Taking a shaky step forward, I felt something squish under my shoe. I looked down and recoiled.

    It was¡­ goo. Purple, gelatinous, and disgusting. What the hell was this stuff? Jelly? Plasma? I didn¡¯t know, but whatever it was, it was revolting. My first thought? Please, let this not be some kind of animal crap. But honestly, even that would¡¯ve been less gross.

    I scraped the muck off my shoe, muttering curses under my breath. Then I noticed something strange¡ªa bird, one of the few animals I¡¯ve ever seen outside of pictures, hopped over to the blob. It pecked at the goo, trying to eat it.

    ¡°Whatever floats your boat,¡± I muttered, shaking my head. Animals were rare, and when you did see them, they were weird as hell.

    I turned to leave.

    CRUNCH.

    The sound froze me in my tracks. Slowly, I turned back.

    What I saw made my blood run cold.

    The goo¡­ was eating the bird.

    It sounded like someone smashing glue together with crunchy bits thrown in¡ªa weird, wet, guttural munching, like chips being chewed in the most unnatural way possible. I stared at the scene, a strange mix of confusion and¡­ curiosity? It didn¡¯t feel gruesome, not exactly. It felt like I was watching something essential, like some twisted form of survival in action.

    What threw me off more was why my mind jumped to that conclusion over a pool of purple goo devouring a bird.

    As the blob finished its grotesque "meal," something even stranger happened¡ªlike, crank-it-to-eleven strange. It started to take shape. Not just any shape, though. It was forming¡­ a person¡¯s head.

    At first, it was crude and incomplete¡ªjust a blob with the vague outline of eyes. But then, painstakingly slow, it kept going. Eyes took form, followed by a nose, ears, a mouth, eyebrows, and even the faint beginnings of a neck.

    It was fascinating in the most disturbing way possible. I couldn¡¯t look away, like watching this entire process might reveal some hidden truth.

    What truth? No clue.

    Time warped around me. The sky turned dark in what felt like an instant, a glittering starscape stretching endlessly overhead. When did it become night? I didn¡¯t even notice the transition, but now the blob had completed a recognizable head. No hair, no movement¡ªjust a blank, lifeless face.

    Then more creatures showed up. Snakes slithered closer. Rats scurried in. Crows landed, pecking at the gooey head. Each one tried to take a bite, and each one was promptly consumed by the blob in turn.

    The pattern repeated. Over and over. Snakes, rats, crows¡ªthey came, they attacked, and they were absorbed. It got old fast, so I turned my gaze to the horizon.

    That¡¯s when I saw it. The desert warped, cycling through sunrises, mid-days, sunsets, and starry nights in rapid succession, as if time itself was stuck on fast-forward.

    ¡°Is this a BD?¡± I wondered. It didn¡¯t feel like one, but what else could explain this insanity? Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t make sense. Nothing about this did.

    As I scanned the horizon, something finally clicked¡ªa massive crater a few miles away and, far beyond that, the faint outline of a city. I recognized both immediately. The crater was where San Francisco used to be, obliterated earlier this year by a nuke. The city farther out? That had to be Santa Cruz.

    The realization hit me like a punch. If I¡¯m this close to ground zero, doesn¡¯t that mean the area is still flooded with radiation? Should I even be here?

    Panic clawed at me, and I turned to leave¡ªonly to catch sight of the blob again. It had shifted, now resembling the upper half of a woman. Well, mostly¡ªshe was still missing an arm and her entire lower body. Her skin was a deep, unnatural purple, and for whatever reason, the animals that had tried to feed on her earlier were nowhere to be seen.

    I hesitated before shrugging off my jacket and draping it over her. It wasn¡¯t like the blob was forming clothes for itself, and something about leaving her exposed like that just didn¡¯t sit right with me.

    The cycles of day and night kept spinning like some sped-up simulation. Over and over, the light shifted, but the woman didn¡¯t finish forming. She just stayed like that, incomplete. Then, without warning, the cycle stopped, freezing in the pale glow of twilight.

    That¡¯s when I heard it¡ªthe faint hum of engines growing louder. Vehicles were heading in our direction.

    I shot to my feet, waving my arms. ¡°Hey! Over here! There are two people here! Hello!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell if they¡¯d seen me at first. The sound grew closer, but the vehicles remained out of sight. Eventually, though, I spotted them¡ªheaded straight for us.

    Maybe it was luck. Maybe they were just passing through. Either way, it didn¡¯t matter. Help was coming.

    Wishful thinking, right?

    I had no clue who these people were. Customized cars, gang vibes¡ªthey screamed trouble. But at that moment, I didn¡¯t care. Help was help. I jogged toward where they parked, waving my arm like a maniac.

    ¡°Finally! Someone showed up! I thought I¡¯d be stuck here forever! Well, technically I was, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡± one of the guys said, cutting me off mid-rant.

    ¡°Needed to take a piss. What about you?¡± another replied casually.

    ¡°I stopped because you stopped.¡±

    ¡°Then shut up, you gonk. I¡¯ll be done in a minute.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    Their exchange left me standing there, dumbfounded. Shouldn¡¯t they be surprised I was even alive, stranded out here in the middle of nowhere? And why were they ignoring me?

    Something clicked¡ªor rather, didn¡¯t. The past few minutes, I hadn¡¯t felt a thing. No hunger, no thirst, no heat, no cold. Nothing. Like my body wasn¡¯t even there. What the hell was happening?

    Desperate for answers, I marched right up to the guy about to take a piss. ¡°Hey, can you help me? I was¡ª¡±

    He walked straight through me. Not past me. Through me.

    I froze.

    Was I a ghost? Was this some kind of Braindance? No, that didn¡¯t add up. BDs lock you into someone¡¯s perspective; you can¡¯t move freely unless you¡¯re editing one, and I sure as hell wasn¡¯t in an editor.

    The eerie feeling I¡¯d been brushing off suddenly made sense¡ªsort of. I wasn¡¯t physically here. That much was clear. But why wasn¡¯t I freaking out about it? Why did it all feel... normal?

    The guy walked off to do his business while I stayed rooted in place, still trying to process what the hell just happened. Shaking it off, I headed back to where the purple woman was. Except now, instead of sitting upright, she was lying on the ground. I braced myself for another strange time-lapse, but instead, something else happened.

    The guy, now done, wandered back toward the cars and spotted her. Of course, as any man would upon seeing a naked woman in the middle of nowhere, he rushed over. Typical. I almost muttered ¡°men¡± under my breath because, naturally, that¡¯s the first thing he¡¯d do.

    As he got closer, I noticed something odd. The purple woman¡¯s hair was starting to form¡ªa cascade of stark white. Strange, considering how long it had taken for her to form everything else.

    The guy crouched near her, inspecting her with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. He called for his chooms, who came over just as quickly. All of them stood around, gawking like they¡¯d discovered some rare artifact. Meanwhile, I grabbed my Arasaka jacket from the ground because, honestly, what was the point in leaving it there?

    Their reactions made my stomach churn. They were curious, sure. But there was something else¡ªsomething too close to excitement for comfort.

    ¡°She can have chrome as far as the clients are concerned, right?¡± one of them asked.

    ¡°As long as we slap on some RealSkinn, they won¡¯t care if her limbs are Cyberware,¡± another replied, casually punching numbers into a phone. ¡°Still, this one¡¯s gonna bring in major eddies.¡±

    Wait. Profit? Chrome? Clients?

    Who are these guys?

    ¡°She¡¯s hot, but if she were fully ganic, we¡¯d make a killing,¡± the third one grumbled, clearly annoyed at the ¡°loss.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get better prices if we showcase her right,¡± the man with the phone said, his tone all business as he started a call. ¡°We just hit the jackpot today.¡±

    The woman opened her eyes¡ªblack with glowing orange pupils¡ªand the first thing she did¡ª

    No. Not her.

    The monster.

    Appendages erupted from her body, tearing through the first guy with horrifying speed. They enveloped him, a liquid mass that ate him alive, dissolving him from the inside out. His screams pierced the air, yet I stood there, coldly watching as if it were just another dull video on LabStream.Net. The fact that I wasn¡¯t horrified felt¡­ wrong. It didn¡¯t even feel real. My lack of reaction unsettled me more than the gruesome sight itself. Does that even make sense?

    The other two froze, their faces contorted with sheer terror, as the woman¡ªor whatever she was now¡ªstood in the spot where the gonk had been moments before. She was tall and muscular, but not in the grotesque, overblown way of the Animals gang. Her purple skin shimmered faintly, and her eyes were empty pools of black, rimmed with a sinister orange glow. Long, spiky white hair cascaded past her waist, and believe it or not, a tail as thick as another of her legs flickered around. One detail stuck out: her right arm was still missing, refusing to form no matter how much of her body had taken shape.

    She blinked once, slow and deliberate, before collapsing to the ground, sitting as if her strength had suddenly drained away. She radiated emptiness, like every shred of vitality had been stripped from her. Her hollow stare was unsettling¡ªless like someone who had just killed and more like someone who had nothing left to lose.

    As for the other two¡ª

    They snapped out of their shock and drew their guns, aiming squarely at her face.

    ¡°Where the fuck is Ramirez?!¡± one of them screamed, his voice shaking with panic. ¡°What the hell did you do to him?!¡±

    She didn¡¯t reply, her hollow gaze locked on them as if they didn¡¯t exist¡ªor didn¡¯t matter. Her complete indifference was unnerving, more terrifying than any threat or hostile move she could¡¯ve made. She just stared, unblinking, like she was waiting for something, or maybe just¡­ existing.

    The guy¡¯s hands shook, his finger twitching against the trigger, but he didn¡¯t pull it. He couldn¡¯t. His mind screamed at him to act, but his body was paralyzed by the thought of what might happen if he did. His instincts, warped by fear, whispered that shooting her would only make things worse.

    ¡°D-do something, man!¡± the other one stammered, backing away slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there!¡±

    ¡°What if¡ªwhat if she¡¯s waiting for it?¡± the first guy whispered, his voice barely audible. ¡°What if she¡¯s one of those things¡ªyou know, the kind that gets stronger if you attack it?¡±

    The second guy hesitated, glancing nervously between his trembling partner and the creature-woman before them. ¡°Ramirez¡­ he¡¯s gone, man. We¡ªwe need to get out of here!¡±

    The first guy swallowed hard, lowering his weapon an inch but not daring to look away from her. ¡°And just leave her here? What if she comes after us? What if she¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, the woman moved.

    It wasn¡¯t much¡ªjust a tilt of her head, slow and deliberate¡ªbut it was enough to send them both stumbling backward in pure panic.

    ¡°Fuck this!¡± the second guy shouted, turning on his heel and sprinting toward the car. ¡°We¡¯re out of here!¡±

    The first guy lingered for a moment, torn between fight and flight, but the woman¡¯s unflinching stare broke what was left of his resolve. He turned and bolted, tripping over himself as he scrambled to catch up with his choom.

    Their engines roared to life seconds later, tires kicking up dust as they sped away, leaving her¡ªand me¡ªalone in the wasteland once more.

    She didn¡¯t even watch them leave. Instead, she slowly turned her gaze toward the horizon, her expression unreadable.

    ¡°I became something less than human, and at the same time, something more,¡± she muttered, her voice distant, almost as if she were speaking to herself rather than anyone else.

    I stared at her, completely confused. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

    She didn¡¯t elaborate, just stayed there, her tail curling protectively around her form. The cycle of day and night began again, the endless loop continuing as if time had no meaning here.

    What was this? Her memories? A BrainDance? No, it couldn¡¯t be¡ªBDs don¡¯t work like this. They don¡¯t start until the person is fully formed, and they sure as hell don¡¯t loop endlessly. This was something else entirely.

    I tried to make sense of it, counting the days as they passed. At first, it was manageable¡ªone, two, three¡ªbut eventually, I ran out of fingers to count on. Weeks must have passed as she sat there, unmoving, her gaze empty and hollow.

    It was¡­ heartbreaking.

    She didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t react, didn¡¯t even seem aware of her surroundings. She was just there, trapped in her own mind, stuck in some kind of limbo. I didn¡¯t know her, didn¡¯t know how she got here or why she had this monstrous thing inside her, but watching her like this felt wrong. She was a shell of something¡ªsomeone¡ªwho might¡¯ve once been alive.

    The endless cycle of day and night stopped again when another group of vehicles arrived. Different cars this time, different people. Another gang, judging by their looks, but these guys seemed less scummy than the first.

    They approached cautiously, repeating the same steps the last group had. One of them even tossed a blanket over her shoulders, a small gesture of decency.

    They weren¡¯t exactly saints, though. Their whispers carried faint innuendos, the kind that made my skin crawl, but at least they didn¡¯t talk about her like a commodity to be sold.

    A less terrible kind of scum. Not much of an upgrade, but it was something.

    One of them, a woman who couldn¡¯t have been older than her early twenties, gave off a strong Nomad vibe. She placed a hand on the purple woman¡¯s shoulder, her tone soft but measured.

    ¡°Care to come with us?¡±

    For the first time, the purple woman reacted, turning her head slightly toward the speaker. Her voice, when it came, was faint and distant. ¡°...What?¡±

    ¡°You need a place to stay, right?¡± the Nomad woman replied, her voice laced with what sounded like genuine warmth. I had to admit, if I hadn¡¯t already overheard their plans, I might¡¯ve believed her. ¡°You can¡¯t stay out here in the desert.¡±

    The purple woman tilted her head, her white hair slipping forward to partially obscure her face. ¡°I¡­ Yeah, why not.¡±

    Her voice was the emptiest thing I¡¯d ever heard, hollow in a way that made it seem like she wasn¡¯t even sure why she¡¯d agreed.

    I followed them, accepting now that I was witnessing someone else¡¯s memories. Climbing into the back of the vehicle along with them, I noted its spacious interior. It was a rugged four-wheel drive with a powerful engine, humming confidently even at idle.

    The Nomads had a brief, hushed exchange outside, muffled by the car doors. Once they climbed in, the driver turned the vehicle onto a worn, sand-packed path that vaguely resembled a road. I hadn¡¯t even noticed it earlier, despite actively searching for something man-made.

    The path wasn¡¯t a proper road, just an area of desert sand compacted from frequent use. Inside the car, the atmosphere was casual. The driver and the Nomad woman made small talk about music, past gigs, and even the fallout from the San Francisco nuke. They only occasionally glanced back at the purple woman, who sat silent and still, her head leaning against the window.

    Eventually, the conversation circled back to her.

    ¡°It¡¯s kinda weird, though,¡± the driver¡ªZachery¡ªsaid, stealing a glance at the purple woman through the rearview mirror. ¡°Someone like her, alone, no supplies, no gear, and not far from a nuke blast. Doesn¡¯t add up.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and weeks after the explosion, too,¡± the woman replied.

    Wait, weeks?

    That confirmed it¡ªI was watching memories. The explosion happened over half a year ago.

    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why she¡¯s, you know¡­ purple? And the tail?¡± Zachery mused, eyes flicking back to the road.

    The woman let out a sharp sigh. ¡°Zachery, we both know radiation doesn¡¯t work like that. It doesn¡¯t turn people purple or give them tails.¡± Her tone was deadpan, unimpressed.

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say she didn¡¯t chrome some Animal parts, though? We¡¯ve seen weirder,¡± Zachery shot back, refusing to let it go.

    ¡°You might have a point, but it''s not something that concerns me,¡± Jaena said with a shrug, shaking her head. ¡°And it shouldn¡¯t concern you, either.¡± She paused before continuing, her tone shifting. ¡°Anyway, speaking of her¡ªdo you have a name?¡±

    The purple woman, Vomi, slowly turned her eyes toward Jaena, though her gaze remained fixed out the window, never fully meeting her. ¡°I¡­ have many names.¡±

    ¡°Can you share one of them?¡± Jaena asked gently.

    ¡°...Vomi,¡± Vomi murmured, the name seeming to hang in the air, as if she regretted speaking it but had no choice.

    ¡°Vomi?¡± Jaena repeated, and for just a brief moment, Vomi flinched, though no one could tell if it was because the name wasn¡¯t hers or because she simply didn¡¯t like it.

    I couldn¡¯t place it, but something about that name felt significant. I¡¯d never heard it before, even after hours of lurking through the depths of the cyberspace.

    ¡°Well, nice to meet you, Vomi,¡± Jaena said, her voice softening. ¡°We¡¯ll find someone to take care of you.¡± She sat back down in her seat, looking ahead.

    ¡°Jaena,¡± Zachery spoke up, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t into this kind of gig.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Jaena answered, her voice distant, her eyes locked on the road ahead. ¡°But my father asked me to do it. He said to think of the Raffen as my new home.¡±

    Zachery didn¡¯t seem convinced. ¡°Still, joining the Shivs¡­ I don¡¯t wanna be a Wraith. Isn¡¯t it true the leader wears human skin as clothes?¡±

    Both Vomi and I froze at the comment, though I was surprised by the rumor while Vomi¡¯s reaction was a complete mystery. She didn¡¯t flinch, didn¡¯t react at all. She was unreadable.

    And mind you, I wasn¡¯t even in danger. I wasn¡¯t in the car with them, wasn¡¯t physically involved, yet I felt that strange tension hanging in the air like a thick fog. Vomi¡¯s silence didn¡¯t help, but I couldn''t shake the feeling that something was off¡ªlike I was more a part of this than I should be.

    The car kept moving, the low hum of the engine filling the space, but the weight of the conversation kept pressing down. Jaena and Zachery didn¡¯t seem to notice the shift, but I did. I couldn¡¯t place my finger on it, but I felt like something was about to snap, like the quiet before a storm.

    Vomi didn¡¯t respond to Zachery¡¯s comment, but I could tell she was listening. There was something in the way her gaze stayed fixed ahead, distant and focused. Maybe she was trying to forget, trying to tune everything out. Maybe she was still trying to figure out what she even was.

    It didn¡¯t matter, though. None of it mattered. I wasn¡¯t here to fix anything. I wasn¡¯t even here at all. I was just a bystander, stuck in the ether, watching it all unfold, completely powerless.

    And then my vision faded to Black.

 Chapter 39: Rockabye.

    David Martinez

    I woke up way faster than I expected, and honestly? That wasn¡¯t even the best part. I woke up feeling like I¡¯d just had the most amazing sleep of my entire life. For once, I actually felt rested¡ªno aches, no stiffness, no nothing. Just completely chill. My body felt¡­ good, like crazy good. My muscles were relaxed, my mind was clear, and overall, I felt preem as hell.

    The blanket on me was soft and warm, like the good kind you¡¯d find in corpo suites, and the mattress? Don¡¯t even get me started. It had that high-end quality feel you only dream about. I didn¡¯t even wanna open my eyes. Why would I? Everything felt so comfortable, so peaceful.

    But then, reality hit me like a truck¡ªor, well, like the car crash I was just in. I opened my eyes in a panic because, uh, what the hell? I was in a wreck not that long ago, right? Where¡¯s my mom? What¡¯s with those freaky visions I had? And most importantly¡ªwhere am I? Because this ceiling? It looked super unfamiliar but, at the same time, kinda familiar?

    I threw off the blanket and sat up, and that¡¯s when two big things hit me. First, I was in some kind of clinic¡­ or maybe a Ripperdoc operations room? It had a real old-school hospital vibe, like something from 2017¡ªor even earlier. Second? I was completely butt-naked. Not that I was focused on that, though.

    What I was focused on was my body. See, I¡¯ve always been kinda slim, skinny, but still athletic enough for my age. So I knew for a fact that the muscular figure I was looking at wasn¡¯t mine. I wasn¡¯t jacked, exactly¡ªnot bodybuilder level¡ªbut I had more muscle definition than I¡¯d ever seen on myself. There was even a full-body mirror nearby, and yeah, I spent a few seconds just staring at my reflection, trying to process how I looked so¡­ different.

    How the hell did this happen? I didn¡¯t do anything that could¡¯ve bulked me up overnight. Unless¡­ maybe it was chrome? But nah, I didn¡¯t have that weird numb feeling you get from implants, like when I got my neuralink and agent installed. Actually, now that I think about it, I couldn¡¯t even feel those at all.

    I reached around to the back of my neck, where my shard sockets were supposed to be, and sure enough, they were still there. But they didn¡¯t feel like cold, plasticky tech¡ªthey felt like skin. My skin. I fired up my agent just to make sure it was still working, and yeah, it booted up fine, no glitches or bugs. I even ran a diagnostics program just to double-check.

    While it worked its magic, I decided to test out something else: just how strong I actually was.

    There was a table nearby with nothing on it, so I figured, why not? I gave it a lift, and to my surprise, it felt ridiculously light¡ªlike it was made out of paper or something. That got me curious, so I glanced over at a sofa, but before I went straight to lifting furniture, I wanted to test my reflexes first.

    If someone had done surgery on me, they could¡¯ve messed with my nervous system, right? I dropped down for some push-ups, and wow, they were so easy it felt like a joke. One-handed push-ups? Same deal, even though they used to be impossible for me. This was nuts.

    I decided to take it up a notch and try doing some handstand push-ups. They were stupidly easy. I didn¡¯t even wobble getting into position, and I kept perfect balance the whole time. So, naturally, I thought, why not try it with one hand? And, surprise¡ªstill easy. What the hell?! This was beyond nova.

    I started messing around, waggling my legs in every direction to see if I¡¯d tip over, but nope. I was rock solid, like I was glued to the ground. Unless I wanted to fall, it just wasn¡¯t happening. Feeling cocky, I started switching hands with each push-up, and for the grand finale, I did a jump on the last one, flipping mid-air and landing perfectly on my feet without even bending my knees.

    Holy shit, this was awesome.

    Then my eyes landed on the sofa, and a stupidly brilliant idea popped into my head.

    I walked over, grabbed it, and gave it a little extra juice for the lift.

    CRASH

    ¡­And that¡¯s how I accidentally threw the sofa into the ceiling and broke it clean in two.

    Shit. My bad.

    ¡°Are you done enjoying yourself?¡±

    ¡°Huah!¡± I spun around at the voice, immediately covering my¡­ uh, essentials, because of course, I hadn¡¯t bothered to find clothes yet.

    I immediately recognize who it is though. It is Vomi. Well, aside from the fact that she doesn''t have a tail or a purple skin, it is her, I am certain of it. Her hair is fluffy instead of spiked, and her eyes are normal, aside from being red, but no black in sight¡­ yeah, no pun intended. She was using a half white jacket, probably faux leather, a plaid sleeveless shirt with red and blue for color, skin tight black pants and high heels in the same color of her shirt. She was funnily enough using glasses, and I also noticed the chrome she has in her right arm, which was missing before. My optics can''t say of which brand or age the arm is though, but I know it''s an old model from the looks alone.

    ¡°You¡¯re staring a little too much,¡± Vomi said, snapping me out of it. She nodded toward another room. ¡°Your new clothes are in there.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah¡ªright,¡± I stammered, finally moving toward the room.

    The clothes waiting for me weren¡¯t mine¡ªmade sense, considering I didn¡¯t exactly have the same build anymore. They were a new set, clearly chosen with my new frame in mind. Fair enough, but¡­ wow, these clothes were basic. No flair, no style, just the most boring outfit possible. I wanted to complain, but this was a Ripperdoc clinic, and they did save my life, so I kept my mouth shut.

    As I started putting them on, a thought hit me like a freight train. Wait, what about Mom? I scrambled to get dressed, rushing back to the other room to ask.

    But as I opened the door, I stopped in my tracks. Vomi was talking to someone¡ªan older guy who looked like he¡¯d seen his fair share of crazy.

    ¡°¡ªthe effects it could have on him¡­ Are you sure this¡ª?¡± The man cut himself off the second he noticed me.

    ¡°Look, we can talk about this later,¡± Vomi said sharply, her frown as clear as day. ¡°But it was her decision, alright?¡±

    The old man gave me a quick glance, then sighed heavily, turning to leave without another word.

    ¡°The skill he has as a Ripperdoc is only matched by his paranoia,¡± Vomi muttered, half growling before turning her attention to me. ¡°You¡¯ve probably got a lot of questions. First things first¡ªyes, your mother is alive and well. She just needs time to recover.¡±

    A wave of relief crashed over me. ¡°Oh, thank God. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s amazing. I don¡¯t even know how I¡¯m gonna pay for¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not charging you anything,¡± Vomi interrupted, her glowing red eyes locking onto mine. There was something in her gaze¡ªpredatory, dangerous.

    Why the hell did I suddenly feel like prey?

    ¡°Uh¡­ thanks. Really, thanks again,¡± I said, trying to keep it together.

    ¡°Sit here.¡± She motioned to a recliner chair. ¡°I¡¯ll run some checkups on you. While I do, you can ask whatever¡¯s on your mind.¡±

    I sat down in the chair without a word, my attention drifting to the clinic around me. Honestly, it looked more like a budget Ripperdoc¡¯s setup than an actual hospital. Sure, it had been cleaned up and refurbished, but you could still tell it used to be something like an auto shop. Definitely not the most sanitary-looking place. Still, the tech here was leagues ahead of what Doc used to use. At least I felt better about being treated here. Doc¡¯s methods were garbage¡ªno anesthesia, half-broken equipment, and an attitude like you should be grateful for his "expertise."

    The first thing Vomi did? Inject me with anesthesia. My neck went numb almost instantly.

    ¡°So, got questions?¡± she asked, her chrome arm busy at the terminal while her organic hand handled the syringe.

    ¡°Uh, yeah. Where am I?¡±

    ¡°Vik¡¯s Clinic, Misty¡¯s Esoterica, Little China, Watson,¡± she said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°And yes, your accident happened at City Center, on the highway leading to the Plaza.¡±

    ¡°What am I doing all the way in Watson?¡± I muttered, confused. I didn¡¯t know any Ripperdocs around here.

    ¡°Being treated,¡± she replied, her tone as blunt as a hammer. ¡°Any questions that aren¡¯t obvious?¡±

    Wow. Rude? Bitchy even. ¡°Where¡¯s my mom?¡±

    She stopped typing for a moment, plugged a cord into my sockets, then answered. ¡°In the next room. We don¡¯t usually get patients who need more than a few hours of treatment¡ªmostly just quick chip installs these days.¡±

    ¡°Can I see her?¡±

    ¡°After this? Sure,¡± she said, slipping on gloves over her organic hand and spraying disinfectant on her chrome one. ¡°Hold still.¡±

    I felt her carefully making incisions on my neck. Maybe checking for internal injuries? Doc never explained the process of what Ripperdocs actually did during surgery, so I had no clue what she was working on. I could feel the pressure, but no pain, so I guess she was doing everything right¡ªthough I wouldn¡¯t know.

    ¡°Uh, sorry about the sofa,¡± I said eventually, genuinely feeling bad about it. Wrecking the clinic wasn¡¯t exactly part of the plan.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Vomi replied, her voice carrying¡­ was that sorrow? ¡°The sofa¡¯s replaceable. But you could use some restraint. And a bit of shame.¡±

    ¡°Shame?¡±

    ¡°You stood naked in front of a woman, flexing your muscles, your strength, and your junk for way too long¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thanks, I get it,¡± I cut her off, my face heating up as I felt my cheeks go red.

    "Heh."

    Was¡­ was that a laugh? A giggle?

    I still had one burning question, though. ¡°Are you Vomi?¡±

    Her hands froze mid-procedure, and then she walked right up to me, her red eyes locking onto mine. And oh, shit. I¡¯ve pissed off people before¡ªKatsuo comes to mind¡ªbut this? This was something else entirely. She wasn¡¯t just glaring at me; it felt like she was staring into my damn soul. I swear I could feel the sweat rolling down my face and dripping to the floor.

    ¡°Who told you that?¡±

    That was her question. And the way she said it made it clear she expected an answer. Jesus fuck, who even is this woman?! If I tell her the truth, is she going to zero me for some misunderstanding? But¡­ it is the truth. She¡¯ll get that, right?

    Right?!

    ¡°I-I-I saw your¡ªI mean, I think I¡ªuh, you see¡­¡± God, I can¡¯t even form a sentence.

    My brain was going haywire, panicking between spilling the truth or saying nothing. And her glare wasn¡¯t helping at all. What the hell do I do here?!

    ¡°Ah, Kapitan. I see you¡¯re handling a patient today¡ªwait, what¡¯s going on here?¡±

    I didn¡¯t dare break eye contact with Vomi, and she didn¡¯t stop staring me down either. But she did acknowledge the newcomer.

    ¡°Welcome back, Lev. How¡¯d the gig go?¡±

    ¡°Smooth as a boat¡¯s maiden voyage,¡± Lev said casually. His Russian accent was unmistakable.

    ¡°That means nothing to me. I don¡¯t know a damn thing about boats.¡±

    ¡°It went bad, but not bad enough to ruin us,¡± Lev clarified, dropping a bag onto the table next to me. ¡°We got paid, earned a little cred. Still, steady cash flow¡¯s only going to happen if your setup in town works out.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Vomi said, her eyes still drilling into mine. ¡°Now, answer me. Who told you that?¡±

    Alright. Here goes nothing.

    Please, for the love of all things holy, don¡¯t flatline me.

    ¡°I saw memories¡­ of a woman. Purple skin, white hair, black-orange eyes¡­ middle of the desert?¡± My words tumbled out, more a jumbled mess than anything. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure what happened, but a monster left the¡ª¡±

    Before I could finish, Vomi slapped a hand over my mouth. ¡°Shush. Are you sure you saw what you¡¯re saying?¡±

    I nodded, because... what else could I do?

    ¡°Fuck,¡± she muttered, dropping into her chair, finally letting me speak again. ¡°This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. It never happened before.¡±

    ¡°Kapitan,¡± Lev chimed in, his tone almost soothing. ¡°You¡¯re overthinking this. Even if the boy¡¯s telling the truth, there¡¯s no way he can prove it. He just survived a car crash. Could easily be trauma messing with his head.¡±

    ¡°Corporations will dig into anything if they think it¡¯s useful. I can¡¯t afford to act recklessly after last time,¡± Vomi shot back, her words sharp with frustration.

    I couldn¡¯t see much from where I was strapped into the recliner, so I had to guess their expressions from their voices. But the fact that I wasn¡¯t dead yet? Honestly, that felt like a win. Still, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling I¡¯d just used up every ounce of luck I had left. Something bad was bound to come next.

    "That might be true, Kapitan, but remember¡ªyou didn¡¯t have to give him the pathogen," Lev said, his tone steady and genuine, free of any condescension or patronizing edge. "But you respected his mother¡¯s decision. The least you can do now is teach him how to handle these¡­ gifts."

    ¡°Gifts¡­¡± Vomi muttered, the word rolling off her tongue like it left a bad taste. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ certainly one way to call them.¡±

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Lev said, placing a bag of tools on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll leave these here and head back to the club. Let me know tomorrow if we¡¯ve got any gigs lined up.¡± He gave a short nod before leaving, the door clicking shut behind him.

    Vomi sighed heavily and went back to work, her focus shifting to me. Then came the questions¡ªand it definitely felt more like a lecture.

    ¡°What you saw... how much of it do you remember?¡± she asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

    ¡°Until you got into a car with some Raffen gonks,¡± I replied honestly, my voice tinged with bitterness. Just remembering what those bastards had been trying to do to her made my blood boil.

    ¡°Anything else? Anything before that?¡± she pressed further, her red eyes sharp and probing.

    ¡°No, just that. Why?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Good. That¡¯ll make things easier to explain,¡± she said, her tone softening just a fraction.

    She finished up the procedure and patched my neck. Whatever she did, she did it well¡ªthere wasn¡¯t even a scar left behind. Then she started running me through the full spectrum of tests: heartbeat, blood pressure, bloodwork, eyesight¡­ basically the whole nine yards.

    When she was done, Vomi concluded, ¡°You¡¯re fully recovered. No residual damage, no obvious side effects.¡±

    Side effects? The hell does that mean? Whatever. All I heard was that I was fine and didn¡¯t need to worry, so I wasn¡¯t about to press for details.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Vomi said, pacing back and forth as she grabbed a chart and pulled up some visuals on the nearby monitor. ¡°Let me explain what happened while you were unconscious.¡±

    She showed me pictures, video feeds, and all sorts of data that made zero sense to me¡ªuntil the footage switched to me and my mother being carried into the clinic.

    ¡°Sorry about the sedative,¡± Vomi said abruptly. ¡°It was the first thing that came to mind.¡±

    Sedative?

    ¡°Oh.¡± I blinked, piecing together fragments of memory from the crash. ¡°Yeah, uh¡­ no worries.¡±

    ¡°So, here¡¯s what happened,¡± Vomi began, her voice measured but serious. ¡°Your mother wasn¡¯t going to survive the crash¡ªnot with standard Ripperdoc care. I could go into the specifics, but that¡¯d take too long. The short version is,¡± she pulled up an image of my mother¡¯s injuries, and I immediately regretted looking. The sheer brutality of the damage made my stomach churn, but I knew I had to push through it to understand. ¡°She had severe head trauma, at least seventeen broken bones, massive blood loss, and she even lost one of her kidneys. Some of those injuries are replaceable, sure. Others¡­ not so much.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I faltered, my throat tight. I didn¡¯t even know what to say. My mom was that close to death? And she¡¯s still alive? Damn. My mom¡¯s stronger than I ever gave her credit for.

    Actually, now that I think about it¡­ she was always strong.

    ¡°As for you,¡± Vomi continued, swapping the display to an image of me, ¡°this was the situation.¡±

    I stared at the screen, where an X-ray or scan showed a jagged piece of metal lodged in my torso. ¡°You had that, along with several fractures, bruises, and deep cuts. None were immediately fatal, but they were severe enough to be life-threatening if left untreated.¡±

    Then she pulled up a video feed, showing my mother just before surgery. ¡°Your mom was the first to regain consciousness. That¡¯s when we presented her with a choice. We had the resources to save one of you, but the other¡­ the other would have to rely on luck and timing for a second procedure later in the day.¡±

    ¡°Wait, we?¡± I asked, caught on the word.

    ¡°Viktor Vector¡ªthe guy you saw earlier¡ªand myself,¡± she clarified, adjusting her glasses. ¡°We offered your mother a solution. It was simple, but costly. Who would receive the ¡®pathogen¡¯? Her or you?¡±

    ¡°Pathogen?¡± I repeated, my brow furrowed, ¡°What, some kind of virus? Biological structure and that kind of shit? Isn''t that BiotTechnica¡¯s area?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Vomi said, frowning¡ªnot sure if it was at me or what I said. ¡°And yes, biologically speaking, your body would be altered, but there was a significant risk of it¡­ failing.¡±

    ¡°Failing how?¡±

    ¡°You could have died,¡± she said bluntly, turning her gaze away from the display. ¡°I warned Gloria about that, but she still chose you to receive it. She said she¡¯d do anything if it meant seeing you alive and well.¡±

    Fuck¡­ That hit hard. Mom¡¯s always been protective¡ªI know that¡ªbut I didn¡¯t realize just how much she was willing to sacrifice for me. She couldn¡¯t always be there, but she tried her best to give me a safe, stable life¡ªor at least as close as you can get in Night City.

    ¡°I agreed to try after finishing her procedures,¡± Vomi continued. ¡°She was conscious during surgery. Told me about the day she had you. Apparently, she was mid-shift, patching up a merc with a busted mantis blade when her water broke. They had to switch places¡ªshe coached him through stitching her up while she went into labor.¡±

    Wait, she had me while working? Does Mom ever take a break?

    ¡°Wait, that actually happened?¡±

    ¡°Fast labors aren¡¯t unheard of, nor are intense contractions. But yeah, it¡¯s rare.¡± Vomi nodded as she sorted through some papers¡ªactual papers, not a tablet. ¡°Medical records confirm cases like that, though. Sometimes, the staff didn¡¯t even make it in time, leading to complications. Blood loss, fatalities for mothers¡­ even for the babies, though those were less common.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the horrifying mental image,¡± I muttered, shuddering. ¡°But¡­ I mean, my mom. She¡¯s been giving it all for me this whole time? And I never realized it?¡±

    ¡°David.¡± Vomi took off her glasses and locked eyes with me. That faint glint I¡¯d seen earlier was gone now, replaced by something far colder. ¡°Your mother loves you more than anything. And I can¡¯t stress enough how hard it was for me to think I might be responsible for your death if the pathogen didn¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡­ Damn.

    Was I the reason she¡¯s always exhausted? The reason she¡¯s working herself into the ground every day? That overprotective attitude of hers, how she pushed me to aim higher, scolded me for cutting corners, even the talk we had in the car before the accident¡­

    Was all of it my fault?

    ¡°Look,¡± Vomi said, slipping her glasses back on. ¡°Your mother loves you. If nothing else, the least you can do is show her that you love her back.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded, staring at the floor.

    ¡°If you need more answers, I¡¯ll be here,¡± she added, gesturing toward the door. ¡°She¡¯s in the next room. Opposite the one where you got dressed. And for the record, you¡¯re not discharged yet, so don¡¯t leave the clinic.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t think I even can right now,¡± I muttered as I left the room, heading toward my mom.

    <hr>

    Viktor was conducting a quick check on Gloria¡¯s condition. Despite the surgery¡¯s success, her state was still precarious. When someone¡¯s vitality was hanging by a thread, no amount of care ever felt sufficient. Yet, even as he focused on his work, Vik¡¯s mind kept circling back to the moment Gloria asked about her son. Her concern was genuine¡ªexpected, given the circumstances¡ªbut it was Vomi¡¯s response that stuck with him.

    She offered what they called the ¡°pathogen,¡± though Vik knew the truth: it was the symbiote¡ªor at least the fragments of it still lingering in Vomi¡¯s immune system.

    He understood the gravity of what had happened in San Francisco, not just because Vomi had told him, but because he¡¯d seen it himself. Once, during a moment of vulnerability, Vomi had lost control, and some part of the symbiote had manifested. It showed him flashes of that event¡ªhorrifying, visceral. Vik never shared those details with anyone; he knew Vomi would spiral if she realized her powers were acting independently of her will. Especially when she was barely hanging on to control as it was.

    Thankfully, the last time Vomi used the symbiote to help someone, those side effects¡ªthe unwanted sharing of memories¡ªhadn¡¯t occurred.

    Professionally, Viktor couldn¡¯t condone her methods. They were reckless at best, catastrophic at worst. Personally, though, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to deny a desperate mother¡¯s wish to save her child. He agreed, albeit reluctantly, and made his disapproval clear. This choice carried heavy risks, and while Vomi claimed it was a matter of ¡°safety,¡± Viktor wasn¡¯t so sure.

    He knew Vomi well enough to understand the truth she wouldn¡¯t admit: the symbiote had the potential to heal others, but it came at a cost. It left her vulnerable, drained, and unsteady. Still, she had chosen to use it¡ªnot just to heal, but to create another version of ¡°herself.¡±

    When she first explained her plan, Viktor thought she might have encountered someone else with similar powers, someone who could pose a threat or draw attention from the wrong people. He assumed the situation called for action, even if innocent civilians got caught in the crossfire.

    But this? This was different. Vomi had never intervened in this way before. While she had a history of treating injuries for those caught in the chaos of their gigs, the idea of transferring a piece of herself to someone else¡ªto make them like her¡ªwas unprecedented.

    It all left Vik skeptical, questioning her true intentions. Was this really about saving a life? Or was it about something deeper, something Vomi herself might not even fully understand?

    The door slid open, revealing the kid Vomi had just ¡°gifted¡± the symbiote. He looked remarkably different now¡ªmore alive, more intact¡ªbut Viktor knew that wasn¡¯t what really mattered. What mattered was that he appeared stable, and if Vomi hadn¡¯t intervened further, it meant the volatile symbiote was at least under control for now.

    David hesitated in the doorway, his eyes darting from Viktor to Gloria lying on the bed. His expression carried something Viktor didn¡¯t expect: regret.

    ¡°Is she¡­ going to wake up soon?¡± he asked, his voice shaky and uncertain.

    ¡°For now, she¡¯s just asleep,¡± Viktor replied, keeping his tone calm and measured. ¡°Her condition is stable, but healing takes time¡ªeven with stims and nanobots to speed up the process. For the time being, she needs rest. I¡¯ll check on her regularly to monitor her progress.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± David muttered, pulling up a chair next to her bed. He slumped into it, his head hanging low. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t been such a fucking idiot¡­ we wouldn¡¯t even be here.¡±

    Viktor recognized that tone immediately¡ªself-loathing, the kind that always seemed to bubble up when someone blamed themselves for the unpredictable.

    ¡°Kid,¡± Vik said, stepping closer. ¡°There¡¯s no way you could¡¯ve seen this coming. You were unlucky, sure, but you¡¯re alive. Take this time to rest and stay close to your mom, alright?¡±

    David shook his head. ¡°Still¡­ if I¡¯d just listened to her before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Viktor interrupted firmly, resting a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder. He gently turned David so they were eye level. ¡°Don¡¯t get caught up in the ¡®why is this happening to me¡¯ or the ¡®what ifs.¡¯ That¡¯ll only drag you down further. Instead, ask yourself, ¡®What can I learn from this?¡¯ and ¡®What can I do to make things better?¡¯¡±

    David¡¯s eyes widened slightly at the advice, a flicker of something¡ªhope, maybe¡ªcrossing his face before he turned back to Gloria. She lay there, surrounded by tubes and wires, the machines monitoring every possible metric: oxygen levels, blood flow, cyberware diagnostics. The sight was overwhelming, yet David stayed by her side, silent but present.

    Satisfied that his words had landed, Viktor stepped back and left the boy to his thoughts. Returning to the main room where Vomi waited, he sat down at his terminal and resumed his routine, scanning for incoming patients and trying to settle back into the rhythm of the day.

    ¡°How did it go?¡± Vomi finally asked, breaking the silence.

    ¡°As well as I could¡¯ve hoped,¡± Viktor replied with a sigh. ¡°He¡¯s tougher than he lets on. Young, impulsive maybe, but tough.¡±

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Vomi said as she opened a drawer and pulled out a syringe. ¡°He¡¯s tougher than you think.¡±

    Viktor glanced at her and frowned. He didn¡¯t need to ask what she was doing; he already knew. Vomi was brilliant¡ªa talented scientist, skilled Netrunner, an effective merc, and even an incredible musician. She had the potential to excel at anything if she set her mind to it. But when she first got her hands on certain chemicals, she¡¯d created something akin to ¡°heroin,¡± and instead of studying it, she¡¯d tested it on herself.

    That one choice had turned into a habit, one Viktor could never reconcile. She claimed it helped her stay ¡°sane,¡± but all he saw was someone trying to escape. It was a cruel irony that the physically strongest person he¡¯d ever known relied on a drug to cope with reality.

    Viktor shook his head silently and turned back to his terminal, forcing himself to focus on his work. Behind him, he could hear Vomi sinking into her trance, the telltale signs of her pupils shrinking to pinpoints and her posture slackening as the drug took hold. Whatever scenario her mind was conjuring to ease her soul, Vik didn¡¯t want to know. He just hoped she¡¯d come back from it¡ªeventually.

    <hr>

    David Martinez

    She¡¯s just asleep. Yeah, what the Ripperdoc said makes sense, but it still doesn¡¯t feel right. What can I do to make it better? I guess I could start by actually taking care of her for once. I¡¯m always so caught up in my own problems that I forget she¡¯s the only family I have. And now she¡¯s lying there, unconscious, full of hope that I¡¯m okay. I am, but she doesn¡¯t know it.

    Ain¡¯t that a bitch.

    I need to get back to Arasaka Academy and kill it¡ªget the best results possible. If I can make her proud, maybe she can finally catch a break. Too much has happened, and I can¡¯t even begin to imagine how much she¡¯s endured for me. I glance around the room and spot her yellow EMT jacket hanging on a chair. I pick it up and slip it on. If she hadn¡¯t made it¡­ at least this could¡¯ve been a memory of her, something to remind me of how she put me first, even when she didn¡¯t have to.

    Honestly, though, I thought these jackets would be more comfortable. EMTs need to be able to move, right?

    Wait a sec¡­

    I take the jacket off and flip it inside out, staring at the back lining.

    No way.

    Mom, you¡¯re a genius!

    She smuggled military chrome? Prototype grade? That¡¯s¡­ nova! Was she planning to sell it to cover everything? One of these has to be worth thousands of eddies! I could¡ªHold on, David. Who would you even sell this to?

    Doc? Nah, he wouldn¡¯t pay me even a fraction of what it¡¯s worth. Selling military gear on the black market by myself? Forget it. I don¡¯t even want to step foot in Pacifica, much less Dogtown.

    But then again¡­ do I have to sell this?

    Sure, eddies are important. But what about the Academy? If I graduate, I could land a job at any corp. That¡¯s instant cred¡ªreal security. Not everyone¡¯s bold or gonk enough to go after a ¡¯Saka grad, much less a senior. That could buy me time. Time for rent, expenses, and a plan to really move forward.

    So, do I think short-term or long-term here?

    Actually¡­ When did I even start thinking like this? Breaking things down step by step, instead of just rushing in headfirst? Usually, I just follow whatever pushes me forward. But now I¡¯m stopping to consider my options.

    That¡¯s¡­ preem. Kinda disturbing, in a way, but also pleasant.

    Does that make any sense?

    I need to get discharged, head home, and prep for the exams. They¡¯re right around the corner, and even if I¡¯m broke, the first step is paying off my debt with the Academy, graduating, and then coming back for Mom. Sounds like a solid plan, right? But the real question is: how do I get the eddies?

    This new body might open up some opportunities. Maybe I could work as a bouncer? But no, that¡¯d take weeks to scrape together anything meaningful. Damn, I don¡¯t know any safe way to make quick cash. Becoming a merc might be my best shot. I could stick to easier gigs¡ªdeliveries, retrievals, maybe some driving jobs. Something that doesn¡¯t involve getting into a firefight.

    Wait¡­ Lev mentioned earlier that they had gigs. That means Vomi probably knows a Fixer. Would she turn me down if I asked for a connection?

    Fuck it. I have to ask.

    I shrug on Mom¡¯s jacket again, this time making sure it covers the cyberware without digging into my skin. I step into the other room, but¡­ well, let¡¯s just say Vomi was off in her own little world. The Ripperdoc was nowhere in sight¡ªmaybe busy in another room¡ªbut I don¡¯t have time to wait. I need answers now.

    She mentioned something about Esoterica earlier. If anyone¡¯s got intel, it¡¯d be someone there. I head up the stairs toward the back of the clinic. The stairwell leads to a shopfront spilling into some quiet alleyways. After a short walk, I spot a sign for the Esoterica and see someone standing inside¡ªMisty, I think.

    ¡°Hey?¡± I call out, my voice echoing as I cup my hands around my mouth. ¡°Anyone here?¡±

    ¡°In a minute!¡± a voice called out, followed by a murmur. ¡°Wait¡­ is that an actual customer?¡±

    The girl¡ªor maybe a young woman? Hard to tell¡ªcame rushing out. She didn¡¯t look much older than me. When she saw I was the only one at the door, a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly waved me in with a smile.

    I felt a little guilty; she probably doesn¡¯t get many customers. Still, the first thing I noticed was her style. It was unique, like she belonged to a completely different world. I¡¯d never seen anyone quite like her.

    ¡°Welcome to my Esoterica! Where I can help your soul find the answers your body and mind seek,¡± she said warmly, her voice practiced but genuine.

    Did she just make me feel¡­ welcomeness? Is that even a real word?

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re Misty, right?¡± I asked, trying to match her tone and not sound like a total gonk.

    ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± she nodded. ¡°And you must be David.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah.", I nod, a bit surprised, "How do you know my name?¡±

    ¡°Vik and I are associates,¡± she explained while shuffling some strange-looking cards. ¡°The clinic he runs? My property, paid for with my own eddies. I get a cut of whatever he earns, and Lev said new patients were coming. Want your fortune read?¡±

    I raised my hands, palms out, in apology. ¡°I was actually hoping you could help me with something else. Maybe another time?¡±

    She tried to hide her disappointment, but it was hard to miss. ¡°Well, at least you didn¡¯t turn around and leave,¡± she said with a faint frown. Then her expression softened into a small smile. ¡°Most people bolt as soon as I mention tarot.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? People just leave mid-conversation?¡± I asked, genuinely surprised.

    ¡°You¡¯d be amazed,¡± she said with a wry grin. ¡°Last week, two people came in. One just wanted directions to the nearest BD bar, and the other thought this was a drug depot. Most don¡¯t even step in¡ªthey head straight to Vik¡¯s clinic. Which, honestly, I get it. Ripperdocs are essential these days. Still, it stings a little.¡±

    ¡°Damn. That sounds rough.¡± I could feel a pang of empathy. ¡°You know what? Read my fortune. If it helps, I¡¯m game. How much?¡±

    Her eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Why not? I¡¯ve got time to kill before I get to biz.¡±

    The grin that spread across her face was absolutely worth it.

    ¡°Oh, finally! I have to tell Jackie about this¡ªhe¡¯s going to love it!¡± she exclaimed, sounding more like an excited girl than the calm mystic she tried to be earlier. ¡°Just 10 eddies. It¡¯s not as expensive as people think.¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± I said as my optics flashed gold, transferring the fee instantly.

    Misty clapped her hands together and gestured for me to sit at a small round table tucked away in the corner of the shop. It was cluttered with candles, crystals, and a small deck of cards laid neatly in the center. The atmosphere felt cozy, like stepping into a world that didn¡¯t belong to the hustle and chaos outside.

    She took her seat across from me, her movements smooth and practiced, and shuffled the deck. ¡°Alright, David. Let¡¯s see what the cards have to say about your path.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°My path? You make it sound like I¡¯m on some kind of spiritual journey.¡±

    She smirked, glancing up at me as her hands worked the deck. ¡°Aren¡¯t you, though? Everyone is, in their own way. You just don¡¯t know it yet.¡±

    I didn¡¯t respond, but I couldn¡¯t help wondering if she was onto something. She spread the cards face down in a fan and looked at me expectantly. ¡°Pick three.¡±

    I hesitated for a second before reaching out, choosing three at random. She flipped the first one over¡ªa figure standing on the edge of a cliff, staring up at the sky.

    ¡°The Fool,¡± Misty said, her voice soft but certain. ¡°It represents new beginnings, taking a leap of faith, and embracing the unknown.¡±

    I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. ¡°So, it¡¯s saying I¡¯m clueless?¡±

    She chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°No, you gonk, it¡¯s saying you¡¯re starting something big. A new chapter. But it also means you have to be careful¡ªdon¡¯t rush in without thinking.¡±

    ¡°Huh...¡±

    She flipped the second card. This one showed a figure holding two pentacles, balancing them in an infinite loop.

    ¡°The Two of Pentacles. This is about juggling responsibilities, finding balance. You¡¯re trying to manage a lot right now, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I gave her a sideways glance. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s in the cards,¡± she said with a knowing smile.

    Finally, she turned over the third card. A tower engulfed in flames, people falling from it.

    I frowned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t look good.¡±

    ¡°The Tower,¡± she said solemnly. ¡°It represents upheaval, sudden change, or destruction. But it¡¯s not all bad¡ªit¡¯s also about clearing out the old to make way for something new. Breaking free of what¡¯s holding you back.¡±

    I stared at the card for a long moment, the image burning into my mind. It felt¡­ uncomfortably accurate.

    ¡°Great,¡± I muttered, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. ¡°So, what¡¯s the takeaway? Jump into something new, juggle my shit, and wait for everything to fall apart?¡±

    Misty smiled gently. ¡°Or¡­ take the leap, stay grounded, and prepare for change. It¡¯s all about how you approach it, David.¡±

    I let out a dry laugh. ¡°Sounds easy enough.¡±

    Misty gathered the cards, carefully stacking them into a neat deck. ¡°Life rarely is. But you¡¯re tougher than you think.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°How can you tell that?¡±

    She hesitated, glancing to the side before answering. ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m not really supposed to say this. Or at least, it¡¯s not something I¡¯m encouraged to talk about. But I see something in you¡ªsomething powerful. It¡¯s like you¡¯re holding back, not for yourself, but for the sake of others.¡±

    ¡°Like what that pentacle thing said?¡±

    She nodded, her expression serious. ¡°Exactly. Conflict reveals character, and if the cards are anything to go by¡ªand they usually are¡ªit seems like you¡¯ve been showing a lot of restraint and maturity. At least, for now.¡±

    Maturity, huh? That was one way to put it. All I wanted was to make Mom proud, to make the most out of what little I had. I wasn¡¯t even sure where this mindset had come from. Maybe it was because of the crash. Maybe because deep down, I feel responsible. I just wanted her to smile again, to breathe, to live without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

    ¡°Thanks, Misty. This might be the best 10 eddies I¡¯ve ever spent.¡±

    She waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just a surface-level read of your soul. If you want a deeper analysis, we¡¯d need more time.¡± She paused, tilting her head. ¡°But what was it you wanted to ask me earlier?¡±

    Oh yeah, that.

    ¡°I need a gig. Any kind of work.¡±

    Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing with a mix of concern and curiosity. After a moment, she motioned for me to follow her. ¡°Come with me.¡±

 Chapter 40: Wushu Dolls

    David Martinez

    Misty jogged past me and stepped out of the Esoterica, gesturing for me to follow. I did, and it wasn¡¯t long before I realized we weren¡¯t going far. Just outside the shop was a small food stand, the scent of fried noodles wafting through the air. I glanced around, finally noticing the overwhelming theme of the area. Yeah, this was Little China, no doubt. Every sign, every aroma, even the music playing faintly in the background screamed Asia, and that''s Watson for you. I''ve never been here in person, but I can see the appeal.

    The stand in front of us was no exception.

    Noodles. A staple I was all too familiar with.

    At least they didn¡¯t have burritos mixed in.

    There was a bulky guy sitting at the stand¡ªa tall, broad-shouldered dude with tattoos that screamed Valentino. He was hunched over a steaming bowl of noodles, devouring it with gusto. The stand¡¯s owner worked behind the counter, tossing noodles into another sizzling pan, prepping for the next customer. I couldn¡¯t help but notice the Valentino¡¯s ponytail. It didn¡¯t really suit him, but hey, I¡¯ve seen worse looks in Night City.

    Misty walked right up to the guy, her pace quick, her tone sharp. The way he started slurping faster to finish his meal told me all I needed to know about their dynamic.

    ¡°Jackie! I told you to stop eating this stuff,¡± Misty said, her greeting quickly morphing into a lecture.

    ¡°But, chica, they¡¯re good. And you know it,¡± Jackie countered, pointing his chopsticks at her for emphasis.

    Misty crossed her arms, but a small grin tugged at her lips. ¡°I¡¯m in a good mood today, so I¡¯ll let it slide. For now.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so what happened? Got yourself a customer?¡± Jackie asked, his tone teasing but genuinely curious.

    ¡°Actually, yes. I did.¡± Misty nodded, gesturing toward me. ¡°This boy right here. Gave him a soul reading, and he said it was the best thing that ever happened to him.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly¡ª¡±

    ¡°The best thing that ever happened to him,¡± Misty repeated, glaring at me just enough to shut me up.

    Yeah, I wasn¡¯t going to argue with her.

    Jackie turned his attention to me, smiling wide and easy, his demeanor preem and charismatic. ¡°And who¡¯s this? One of Vik¡¯s patients?¡±

    ¡°David Martinez,¡± I said, mirroring his nod. ¡°Never met a Valentino this¡­ chill before.¡±

    ¡°Former Valentino,¡± Misty corrected with a pointed finger. ¡°Though he still has plenty of friends in Heywood.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with her,¡± Jackie chuckled, slurping more noodles. ¡°So, what brings you to me? Checking on my wellbeing, or did you miss this handsome hombre?¡±

    ¡°I always worry about you, Jackie.¡± Misty shook her head, her smile softening. ¡°But this time, I need a favor. Well, he does.¡±

    Jackie raised a brow, glancing between us. ¡°If it¡¯s something I can help with, consider it done.¡±

    I took a step forward, trying to sound confident even though I felt anything but. ¡°I¡¯m, uh, in need of eddies. You know anyone with gigs? Something quick and¡­ not too crazy?¡±

    Jackie tilted his head, sizing me up. ¡°How old are you?¡±

    ¡°Seventeen.¡±

    ¡°Seventeen?¡± He gave me a skeptical look. ¡°You ever done a gig before? Ever held an iron?¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on, Jackie,¡± Misty cut in before I could reply. ¡°Give him some credit. You¡¯re in your thirties now, but didn¡¯t you start around his age? Everyone¡¯s gotta start somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Misty, I love you, but I can¡¯t take on a ni?o with no experience just because you asked me to.¡± Jackie¡¯s tone was careful but firm. ¡°What if he gets hurt? Or worse, flatlined? He¡¯s got family, right? What would I tell his mama if her kid didn¡¯t come back from a merc job?¡±

    "Actually," I start, scratching the back of my head awkwardly, "that¡¯s part of why I¡¯m asking. My mom¡¯s with Vik¡ªshe won¡¯t wake up for a couple days. I¡¯ve got to cover rent, food, bills, and fix some Academy stuff I trashed right before¡­ we needed a Ripperdoc."

    The words come out before I can stop them, and I instantly regret it. It sounds desperate, maybe even forced¡ªlike I¡¯m using my mom¡¯s situation as leverage. But what choice do I have? I¡¯m asking to be thrown into danger for her sake. Vomi said she wouldn¡¯t charge me for her work, but I can¡¯t depend on charity. I need to step up, take responsibility, and face the consequences of my own actions. If I don¡¯t, how can I ever make sure the people I care about¡ªmy family¡ªare safe?

    Jackie lets out a heavy sigh, studying me for a long moment before finally speaking.

    ¡°All right,¡± he says, voice firm, ¡°I¡¯ve got something lined up today. You can help, but you follow my lead. Do what I say, when I say it. Got it?¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± I reply without hesitation.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky it¡¯s Misty who asked. If it wasn¡¯t her, I wouldn¡¯t even be considering this.¡± He shoots Misty a knowing glance, and she simply nods in return. ¡°And besides,¡± Jackie continues with a smirk, ¡°you¡¯re a customer. Gotta give good customer service, right?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense, Jackie,¡± Misty deadpans, crossing her arms. ¡°Well, I¡¯m heading back to the Esoterica. You two try not to get yourselves killed.¡±

    ¡°Catch you later,¡± Jackie says with a casual wave as he slurps up the last of his noodles. He wipes his mouth and stands. ¡°All right, let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve got to hit Kabuki. Regina¡ªthe fixer around here¡ªfinally tossed me a gig. Took a lot of work to get her attention, so don¡¯t screw this up for me.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± I ask, caught off guard. ¡°Regina? You mean the Regina Jones?¡±

    Jackie grins, a hint of pride in his expression. ¡°That¡¯s right, cabr¨®n. So don¡¯t mess this up.¡±

    I swallow hard, trying not to let my nerves show. Regina Jones doesn¡¯t just work with anyone. Either Jackie is damn good at what he does, or he got ridiculously lucky. Fixers like her don¡¯t hand out gigs on a whim¡ªespecially not to rookies. In Santo Domingo, I¡¯d heard about Muamar Reyes, the fixer there, and how he only took on jobs that aligned with his goals. Regina¡¯s reputation wasn¡¯t much different.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I say, more to myself than to Jackie. ¡°I won¡¯t mess this up.¡±

    I can¡¯t afford to.

    Watson¡¯s no joke. The streets are crawling with danger, and one wrong move could get us both flatlined. Between Maelstrom and Tyger Claws tearing each other apart, there¡¯s no margin for error.

    Yeah, the Afterlife¡¯s here, a place where legends are made. But let¡¯s face it¡ªonly the real Edgerunners get that far. For now, I¡¯m just trying to survive.

    Jackie takes the lead, his pace steady, while I trail behind, glancing over my shoulder every so often. I can¡¯t shake the feeling we¡¯re being watched. If Netrunners are right¡ªand they usually are¡ªif they don¡¯t know something, it might as well not exist. So I stay alert, scanning for anything out of place.

    What surprises me, though, is how sharp my awareness has become. It¡¯s not just paranoia¡ªI can feel the flow of the crowd, see which spots would make the best cover, or figure out the quickest escape route if things went south. I notice people who seem out of place, vantage points above us that could spell trouble, and even how many steps I¡¯ve taken since the noodle stand.

    It¡¯s¡­ strange. I¡¯ve never had this kind of clarity before. It feels alien, but at the same time, I know it¡¯ll be invaluable. The edge it gives me is undeniable, and I can¡¯t help but grin.

    So preem.

    Jackie veers off the main street, weaving through side alleys, until we arrive at Megabuilding 11, right by the Trauma Team Tower¡ªbetter known as TTT. We step into the building¡¯s elevator, and I catch a broadcast from the mounted screen. The anchor claims ¡°crime rates are dropping in the streets,¡± before taking a jab at the NCPD for failing to secure highways, alleys, and other hotspots. The camera cuts to an embarrassed officer fumbling through excuses, and Jackie finally breaks the silence.

    ¡°Good job watching my back,¡± he says, pressing the button for the tenth floor. His tone is casual, but there¡¯s a trace of approval. ¡°Shows you¡¯ve got some self-preservation instincts.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ thanks?¡± I say with a shrug, unsure if it¡¯s a compliment or a dig.

    Jackie smirks but doesn¡¯t elaborate. Instead, he launches into the details of the gig. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal. Client says his weapons stash got stolen. He tracked it down to this megabuilding, but between his job and schedule, he can¡¯t deal with it himself. And it seems like he doesn¡¯t have a crew to back him up, either.¡±

    ¡°Who took it? Tyger Claws?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Most likely.¡± Jackie nods. ¡°They¡¯ve been licking their wounds since their war with Maelstrom a few months back. Things are quiet between them now, but it¡¯s more of a ceasefire so they can rebuild than any real peace.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ a stash of weapons? Gotta be for something big,¡± I reason. Gangs rarely hoard guns for anything other than chaos.

    ¡°Could be. Could also be nothing,¡± Jackie says with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite selling it. ¡°Point is, both gangs are in recovery mode. And you know what that means.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re preparing for the worst-case scenario,¡± I finish for him.

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Jackie¡¯s tone turns grim. ¡°NCPD¡¯s been reeling ever since their little war with Barghest, and now that they¡¯re trying to get back on their feet, the gangs are doing the same. Everyone¡¯s bracing for a storm.¡±

    ¡°And you think this ¡®little honest job¡¯ is gonna change that?¡± I ask, raising a skeptical brow.

    Jackie grins, clearly amused. ¡°Eh, honest is relative, hermano. But we can make a difference, even if it¡¯s just getting paid while doing it.¡±

    ¡°Right. Honest,¡± I mutter, shaking my head.

    Jackie wasn¡¯t wrong. Without the iron to back up their bark, a gang¡¯s as good as dead, which means one less problem on the streets¡ªor maybe just a new one taking its place. As the elevator doors slid open, we stepped onto the floor and began our search for a likely spot to stash the stolen goods.

    Jackie, however, made it look effortless. He slipped into the crowd seamlessly, chatting with strangers, commenting on their clothes or shops, and even pausing to banter with people hanging around stairwells. Meanwhile, I followed awkwardly behind, not knowing what else to do. I didn¡¯t know this Megabuilding at all, so I stuck close and tried not to look too lost.

    When he stopped to talk to yet another person, I groaned in mock frustration, but I knew what he was doing. We weren¡¯t trying to disappear¡ªwe were hiding in plain sight. By acting casual and drawing just enough attention to ourselves, we became another forgettable part of the background. Jackie was a pro at this kind of thing, and I figured I¡¯d better play along.

    So I asked a few halfhearted questions, shuffled my feet like I was bored, and leaned into the role of ¡°choom following a local.¡± Which wasn¡¯t far from the truth. Hey, at least it felt authentic.

    Eventually, we wandered into a quieter section of the building. The crowd thinned out, replaced by storage warehouses, industrial equipment, and machinery I didn¡¯t recognize. Jackie stopped by a corner and turned to me, striking up some small talk.

    ¡°So, where do you live?¡±

    ¡°Arroyo. Megabuilding H,¡± I answered. ¡°The folks there love public BDs. XBDs too, more often than not.¡± I paused, recalling my daily walks to Arasaka Academy. One of the few things I liked about Arroyo was the chance to clear my head. ¡°What about you?¡±

    Jackie snorted. ¡°Heywood. My girl says I¡¯ve got too many friends there¡ªold connections and all that. People still respect me, even if I ain¡¯t a Valentino anymore. My Mamacita lives there, so I try to help her out when I can. Compreende?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I get it.¡± I nodded, catching the meaning beneath his words.

    It was clever¡ªpart conversation, part security measure. We kept things vague, not giving away exact locations in case anyone was tailing us.

    Then he caught me off guard. ¡°You said your mom¡¯s sick or something?¡±

    I hesitated before answering, the memory still raw. ¡°Car crash. Some Animals were gunning for a corpo, and we got caught in the crossfire. She¡¯s alive, but barely.¡± I clenched my fists, bitterness creeping into my voice. ¡°I woke up with nothing but a few bruises. She wasn¡¯t in the car when I came to.¡±

    Jackie¡¯s face softened, though I couldn¡¯t tell if it was genuine or part of the act. ¡°Shit. That¡¯s why you asked for help, huh? Glad Vik and Vomi could patch her up.¡±

    ¡°A lot of reasons for me to raise some eddies,¡± I muttered, glancing over my shoulder toward the path we¡¯d taken. I kicked a stray can, watching it clatter across the floor. ¡°Still don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll make it. Can¡¯t say I¡¯ll pull it off.¡±

    We fell into a heavy silence, the kind that felt both thoughtful and tense. A group passed by the corner, murmuring among themselves, their voices low. Something about them prickled at the edge of my awareness.

    Then it hit me. The patches, the augments, the way they carried themselves¡ªthey weren¡¯t Tyger Claws.

    They were Maelstrom.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s definitely a clue,¡± I muttered under my breath.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    We let the group walk out of sight, waiting until the coast was clear before Jackie pulled me aside. ¡°Alright, didn¡¯t expect Maelstrom to be here.¡±

    ¡°Me neither,¡± I replied, though my surprise wasn¡¯t the same as his.

    I could feel their presence even when they were out of sight, like I had some invisible radar. I knew exactly where they were, whether they were disguised, and without a doubt, I¡¯d pegged them as Strom with just a glance.

    When did my senses get this sharp? Was it the pathogen Vomi gave me? If so¡­ this ability was powerful¡ªbut dangerous. I¡¯d have to keep my head on straight if I wanted to control it. I shook the thought away and refocused on the task.

    The weapon stash could¡¯ve belonged to either Maelstrom or Tyger Claws, but with Strom showing up first, the odds pointed to them.

    Jackie motioned for me to follow him, and we made our way past a maze of makeshift fences, broken furniture, and crumbling warehouses. He stopped near an open elevator shaft, gesturing toward it. At first glance, it looked deactivated, rusted, and falling apart. But then I noticed what was going on¡ªand had to stop myself from facepalming.

    What do people normally do when an elevator shaft is out of commission?

    A normal person would block it off, right? Maybe forget it exists?

    Not the Tyger Claws.

    They¡¯d turned it into some kind of climbing test for recruits. The shaft had ropes, footholds, and other gear rigged up, with gang members scaling it like they were training for some post-apocalyptic ninja warrior competition. Above the shaft was another store filled with warehouses, guarded and busier than any area we¡¯d seen so far. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out that the stash was probably up there.

    I sighed. ¡°This is unnecessarily complicated, even for them.¡±

    Jackie smirked. ¡°They¡¯re either complete gonks or geniuses. No in-between.¡± He scanned the area, then pointed. ¡°But we don¡¯t need to get into a shootout with them. Look over there.¡±

    I followed his finger and spotted a terminal outside the shaft. It looked like it controlled the elevator, but it was smack in the middle of the Tygers¡¯ territory, with members milling around it.

    ¡°I see it,¡± I said, ¡°but how does that help?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been in this Megabuilding before. That elevator? It¡¯s just stuck in the shaft, higher up. If you can sneak over there and override the controls, you could drop it down here. That¡¯ll scare the hell out of those putos, and I¡¯ll take care of anyone thrown off by the noise.¡±

    ¡°Wait, let me get this straight,¡± I said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You want me to sneak all the way over there just to make noise?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    I gestured at my bright yellow jacket. ¡°And how am I supposed to sneak in this? I look like a walking hazard light!¡±

    Jackie chuckled, clearly amused by my frustration. ¡°Use your head, cabr¨®n. This isn¡¯t to draw their attention to us¡ªit¡¯s to draw attention to them.¡±

    ¡°...W-wha?¡±

    He rolled his eyes. ¡°The Maelstrom from earlier?¡±

    It clicked immediately. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t just send two guys to track down this stash.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Jackie said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. ¡°The noise will bring Maelstrom right to the Tygers.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± I muttered, genuinely impressed. ¡°So we make them fight each other.¡±

    ¡°There you go,¡± he said, giving me a firm slap on the shoulder. ¡°Now all you gotta do is get over there and drop the elevator.¡±

    ¡°In this jacket?¡± I gestured to my obnoxiously bright yellow attire.

    Jackie smirked. ¡°You realize you can just take it off, right?¡±

    ¡°And why don¡¯t you do it?¡±

    He motioned to his large frame.

    I didn¡¯t even need further clarification. Big guy, big noises. Of course¡­

    I sigh, shrugging off my mom¡¯s jacket and carefully setting it aside before jumping down. The moment my feet hit the ground, I noticed how light I felt, how smooth and precise my landing was. It was uncanny¡ªlike my body had been fine-tuned without me realizing it.

    The moment I darted toward cover, it became even clearer. Every step felt controlled, purposeful. My balance was perfect, as if there were no possibility of tripping or stumbling. It wasn¡¯t just movement; it was instinct, like I was made for this.

    Resting my back against a wall, I took a quick peek around the corner, scanning the area for a path to the terminal. The Tygers were milling about, some lounging near the shaft, others moving crates or chatting. They didn¡¯t seem to be on high alert, but there was still enough movement to make sneaking past them a challenge.

    I mapped out a route in my head, noting every piece of cover I could use. A stack of crates to the left. A low railing to vault over. A shadowy corner just out of their direct line of sight. Piece by piece, I planned it out.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Let¡¯s see if this body can back up the hype.¡±

    I waited for an opening¡ªone Tyger turned to grab something from a nearby shelf, and another wandered off to light a cigarette. With a deep breath, I launched myself forward, staying low and quick.

    Ooooohhhhhh, choom, let me tell you¡ªmy body feels preem.

    Even without looking, I could feel everyone¡¯s presence, their movements, their positions. Using this newfound awareness, I darted to my first hiding spot: a stack of crates with just enough of an opening to slip inside if I needed to. My footsteps were eerily silent¡ªlike I¡¯d swapped my legs for Lynx Paws. Was I always this stealthy? This focused? I felt calm, locked in, like I¡¯d been doing this my whole life.

    Peeking through the gaps in the crates, I noticed a Tyger standing off to the side, isolated. Easy target. If I wanted a piece for myself, this was my chance. I waited, timing my move until the others were distracted and the path was clear.

    Showtime.

    I darted forward, fast and quiet, vaulting over a table and tackling the guy from behind. My arms locked around his neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to knock him out before he could react. His hands flailed, scrabbling at my arms and his iron, but I kept my grip, dragging us both down to avoid being seen. The struggle didn¡¯t last long. Once I was sure he was out cold, I let go and grabbed his piece¡ªa Lexington. Not exactly nova, but better than nothing.

    Scanning the area again, I saw my window. The other Tygers hadn¡¯t noticed a thing. An almost-clear shot to the terminal. Almost. I spotted a soda can nearby, picked it up, and chucked it across the room.

    CRASH.

    The can exploded on impact, spraying soda everywhere. Perfect. The Tygers immediately turned, cursing in Japanese, and headed over to check the noise. With them distracted, I slipped to the terminal and jacked in. Luckily, no hacking was needed¡ªI¡¯m no Netrunner¡ªbut a quick tap was all it took to send the stuck elevator plummeting down the shaft.

    SCREEEEEECH.

    The noise was deafening, the metal-on-metal screech echoing like nails on a chalkboard. I didn¡¯t stick around to admire my handiwork.

    Time to delta.

    Retracing my steps, I vaulted over crates and climbed back up to where Jackie was waiting. My heart pounded, but my movements felt smooth and controlled. I pulled my mom¡¯s jacket back on, checked the cyberware tucked inside, and nodded to Jackie. Everything was still intact. No problems here.

    And, well, it didn¡¯t take long for Maelstrom to crash the party.

    The entire ¡°parkour course¡± setup crumbled under the elevator¡¯s impact, debris scattered everywhere, and chaos quickly ensued. As expected, Strom didn¡¯t waste a second. The moment they showed up, they opened fire, shredding through the Tygers without so much as a warning. Honestly? Kind of perfect for us.

    ¡°Now, we wait until one side¡¯s weaker than the other,¡± Jackie muttered, keeping his eyes on the shootout. His tone was cool, calculated. ¡°If we try sneaking in now, we¡¯ll just end up in someone¡¯s crossfire.¡±

    ¡°Speaking from personal experience?¡± I shot back, raising a brow.

    Jackie smirked, shrugging. ¡°Eeeehhh¡­ more times than I can count.¡±

    That pulled a laugh out of me despite the situation. I couldn¡¯t even blame him¡ªI didn¡¯t want to catch a stray bullet either.

    We stayed low, watching the chaos unfold as the Strom and Tygers duked it out. Bullets flew, concrete chipped, and screams of pain echoed through the space. It was a mess, but it was a mess working in our favor. All we had to do was wait for the right moment to move in.

    <hr>

    Jackie had to admit it¡ªthe kid was good.

    He watched how David moved through the Tyger Claws with precision. The kid waited when he needed to, kept things simple, and created distractions at just the right moments. Hell, he even took down a guy without making a sound. If Misty had told Jackie that David was trying to make a name for himself in the streets again, he¡¯d believe it. But this? This wasn¡¯t some punk kid winging it¡ªthis was either raw talent, insane luck, or serious skill.

    Not that it really mattered to Jackie, as long as it worked in his favor.

    The kid was doing what he could for his mother, and Jackie respected that. Made him think David might even be worth trusting. And, honestly? Having someone like him around could be useful. Jackie wasn¡¯t exactly known for being stealthy¡ªhe was more of a hustler, all brute force and swagger. But having someone who could get in and out unseen? Yeah, that could make things easier.

    Still, this was just their first gig together. Jackie wasn¡¯t ready to call it yet. Maybe David had lucked out this time. Maybe it was beginner¡¯s luck. Either way, he¡¯d keep an eye on the kid before making any decisions.

    Meanwhile, the shootout between Maelstrom and the Tyger Claws raged on. Both sides were thinning out fast, each losing more numbers by the second. Jackie saw his chance and motioned for David to follow him. They took a side route to the shaft, now clear thanks to all the chaos drawing attention elsewhere.

    They climbed down cautiously, sticking to the shadows and staying low in case someone spotted them. Eventually, they reached a maintenance entrance near the base of the shaft. It was one of those utility doors left open for engineers to inspect the lift¡¯s mechanics. Conveniently, the Tygers had left it wide open when the firefight started.

    The two slipped inside and began ascending the staircase, the dimly lit path winding its way up to the store above. They moved quietly, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. Jackie could feel the tension in the air, but if David was nervous, he wasn¡¯t showing it.

    Finally, they reached the top, stepping into the storage level above. Now came the tricky part.

    ¡°Where the hell is the stash?¡±, Jackie murmured, since there is no clear indicator of it.

    ¡°Well, if we were storing it, where would we put it?¡±, David asked, looking around as if it would answer the question.

    Jackie rubbed his chin, scanning the room. It was a maze of crates, shelves, and industrial equipment, all haphazardly arranged like some corpo¡¯s fever dream of efficiency.

    ¡°If it were me?¡± Jackie muttered, taking a step forward. ¡°I¡¯d put it somewhere outta sight. Locked up tight. Maybe booby-trapped if I really wanted to keep gonks out.¡±

    David nodded, but his eyes were already darting around, scanning every corner. ¡°Alright, but where¡¯s the most inconvenient spot? Like, the place no one would bother checking unless they knew exactly where to look?¡±

    Jackie smirked. ¡°Now you¡¯re thinking like a real hustler.¡±

    They split up, moving cautiously through the room. Jackie checked the obvious spots¡ªlarge containers, locked storage units, anything that looked remotely suspicious. Meanwhile, David moved with surprising fluidity, weaving between cluttered shelves and peeking into crevices.

    Then David froze.

    ¡°Hey, Jackie,¡± he whispered, motioning for him to come over.

    Jackie jogged up behind him, crouching down as David pointed to a set of crates stacked against the far wall. At first glance, they looked like ordinary storage, but something about their arrangement seemed¡­off. The crates weren¡¯t aligned with the rest of the room¡¯s clutter. In fact, they seemed deliberately placed to block something.

    ¡°Think it¡¯s behind there?¡± Jackie asked.

    David shrugged. ¡°Only one way to find out.¡±

    They both got to work, quietly shifting the crates aside. It didn¡¯t take long before they revealed a heavy, reinforced door embedded in the wall.

    ¡°Bingo,¡± Jackie muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face.

    David inspected the door. It was locked, of course, with a keypad glowing faintly on the side. He glanced back at Jackie.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know the code, would you?¡± David asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Jackie snorted. ¡°Do I look like a netrunner? Nah, but I got my own way of handling these things.¡±

    He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, cylindrical device. ¡°Tech scrambler,¡± he said, holding it up like a trophy. ¡°Should short out the lock¡ªif we¡¯re lucky.¡±

    David stepped back, giving Jackie room to work. ¡°And if we¡¯re not lucky?¡±

    Jackie shrugged.

    Which didn''t really give David confidence.

    However, with a confident grin, Jackie slapped the scrambler onto the keypad and activated it. The device buzzed and hissed, sparks flying as it worked its magic. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open a few inches.

    ¡°Looks like our luck¡¯s holding out,¡± Jackie said, pushing the door open wider.

    Beyond the door was a dimly lit room, its walls lined with shelves overflowing with weapons. Rifles, pistols, explosives¡ªyou name it, it was here.

    David let out a low whistle. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one way to arm a gang.¡±

    Jackie grinned, stepping inside. ¡°Yeah, and now we make sure they don¡¯t get to use any of it.¡± He motioned to a set of duffel bags near the door. ¡°Grab those, and we¡¯ll start¡ªoh, you¡¯re already on it.¡±

    David was already loading up the bags without missing a beat, moving with the kind of efficiency Jackie couldn¡¯t help but admire. Rifles and shotguns went to Jackie, while David handled the SMGs, pistols, and explosives. They worked fast, the minutes ticking away as the sound of the firefight outside dwindled to unsettling silence.

    When the last weapon was packed, Jackie hoisted the heavier bags onto his shoulders with a grunt. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s delta¡ªbefore whatever¡¯s left out there finds us.¡±

    As they stepped out of the stash, the eerie quiet of the warehouse set David on edge. Not a soul in sight, but that didn¡¯t mean they were alone.

    ¡°It¡¯s too quiet,¡± David muttered, scanning the area.

    ¡°What do you¡ªgah!¡± Jackie stumbled, his optics suddenly going dark. He cursed under his breath. ¡°Reboot Optics? Again? Carajo, I thought I patched this exploit!¡±

    David grabbed Jackie by the arm and yanked him behind a stack of crates just as a burst of gunfire tore through the air, narrowly missing them. His mind raced as he crouched low, clutching his Lexington.

    ¡°Nova over there, Jackie?¡± David asked, glancing at him. Strangely, he wasn¡¯t panicking¡ªsomething about this whole situation felt oddly manageable.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s hacking my optics,¡± Jackie growled, fumbling with his interface. ¡°Trying to reverse it¡ªgimme a sec.¡±

    David kept his focus on their surroundings, his awareness dialed up to eleven. ¡°I don¡¯t see anyone. Where¡¯s the hacker?¡±

    ¡°Cameras,¡± Jackie managed, his voice tense. ¡°They can quickhack through the cameras.¡±

    David¡¯s head snapped up. He traced the room with his eyes until he spotted it: a small camera mounted in the corner, barely visible.

    ¡°Fuck, there¡¯s a camera inside the stash,¡± David hissed.

    ¡°Of course there is,¡± Jackie spat, his fingers working furiously to counter the quickhack. ¡°Gonk move not to check for one. Puta madre.¡±

    Jackie finally nullified the hack, his vision returning just in time to see a muzzle flash in the distance. He ducked instinctively as a bullet grazed the crate beside him.

    ¡°Chingada madre!¡± Jackie cursed, pulling out his Nue pistol. David, gripping his Lexington, crouched lower.

    ¡°Guess we¡¯re not walking out of here,¡± David muttered.

    Jackie grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. ¡°Nah, kid. We¡¯re gonna send whoever¡¯s out there to meet their maker.¡±

    Jackie stepped up, firing a few shots into the open air, aiming to flush out their hidden attacker. The ploy worked, but only partially¡ªbullets whizzed back almost immediately, forcing Jackie to duck behind cover before one could clip his face. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint where the shots came from, and when he turned to strategize with David, the kid wasn¡¯t beside him anymore.

    Jackie¡¯s heart skipped. ¡°Where the hell¡ª¡±

    David, however, was already on the move, darting to another position. Unlike Jackie, he had caught sight of their attacker, though how he managed that was beyond him.

    ¡°Gotta keep moving,¡± Jackie muttered to himself. Staying in one spot too long meant painting a target on your back, and grenades were no joke.

    David popped up from his new cover, firing his Lexington in short bursts. ¡°Jackie! Move!¡±

    Jackie didn¡¯t hesitate, bolting to a better position. The shots gave him a rough idea of where the Netrunner was¡ªa safe alley at the far end of the warehouse, positioned for long-range firing. As Jackie hunkered down, he took a moment to observe David. For a rookie, the kid was¡­ surprisingly decent. His aim wasn¡¯t stellar, but it wasn¡¯t scattershot either. There was precision in his movements, a focus that Jackie couldn¡¯t ignore.

    Luck, talent, or skill? Jackie wondered again. Whatever it was, it worked.

    The two settled into a rhythm. Jackie laid down suppressing fire while David sprinted to the next piece of cover, then swapped roles. Slowly but surely, they closed the gap between themselves and their target.

    But the Netrunner wasn¡¯t stupid. He could see the pair advancing, and with his limited space to maneuver, retreat wasn¡¯t an option. Instead, he fired back, halting their progress. Jackie and David ducked as bullets cracked against metal crates, scattering sparks and shrapnel.

    Now, the fight had reached a stalemate. The Netrunner had the advantage of his tech¡ªhe didn¡¯t need to rely on bullets alone to win. Jackie and David were pinned, and every second they spent under fire was another second the Netrunner could use to hack them, disable their gear, or worse.

    ¡°Kid,¡± Jackie said, keeping his head low, ¡°we need a plan fast, or this gonk¡¯s gonna fry us both.¡±

    David glanced at him, then at their surroundings, calculating their next move. ¡°I might have something¡­ but it¡¯s risky.¡±

    Jackie chuckled grimly. ¡°Risky¡¯s our middle name, choom. Lay it on me.¡±

    ¡°Fine, then stay here.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what are you¡ª¡±

    Before Jackie could finish, David sprang into action, leaping onto a wall and bounding from one surface to another like a pro. In a matter of seconds, he grabbed the edge of the warehouse rooftop and pulled himself up. Jackie watched, half-impressed and half-incredulous, as David darted across the rooftops, jumping between gaps and even throwing in a somersault for good measure.

    ¡°Kid¡¯s a damn gymnast,¡± Jackie muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head.

    To give David some breathing room, Jackie drew his Nue and fired blindly from cover, sending random shots toward the Netrunner to keep him distracted. The plan worked. The Maelstrom gonk focused all his attention on Jackie, unloading another burst of suppressive fire in his direction.

    Meanwhile, David closed the distance, moving silently along the rooftops. The Netrunner, oblivious to the danger above him, stayed laser-focused on Jackie.

    Then came the moment.

    BANG.

    The single gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Silence followed.

    Jackie peeked out from his cover, spotting David standing over the now-lifeless Netrunner. The kid held the Lexington in a steady grip, but his face was¡­ off. It wasn¡¯t fear or pride, but a strange mix of confusion and emptiness, like he was processing something he didn¡¯t fully understand. Jackie stepped closer, glancing down at the dead Maelstrom.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid,¡± Jackie said, nudging David¡¯s arm lightly. ¡°Bastard had it coming. And trust me, you shouldn¡¯t feel sorry for him. I guarantee he wouldn¡¯t have felt sorry for you.¡±

    David¡¯s gaze shifted from the body to Jackie, his expression neutral now. ¡°Yeah. Right.¡±

    He sounded normal¡ªcalm, even¡ªbut Jackie knew better. The kid was probably reeling, even if he didn¡¯t show it.

    ¡°Well,¡± Jackie said, slinging one of the duffel bags over his shoulder. ¡°Another gig down. Let¡¯s get these guns back to the client.¡±

    David nodded silently, following Jackie out.

    ¡°Another job done,¡± Jackie thought with a grin. He loved this line of work.

 Chapter 41: Breaking the Habit

    David Martinez

    It didn¡¯t take us long to get to the drop point. The client had already contacted Regina, and when Jackie spoke to her, she directed him to leave the stash at a local spot she pinged, not far from Megabuilding 10. As we walked with the duffle bags, my mind kept going back to the moment I shot the Maelstrom. It all seemed so... easy. I just pulled the trigger without hesitation, a simple plan to close the distance and take him out. The Lexington¡¯s a low-caliber piece, and the Strom was armored, but somehow I knew exactly where to hit him.

    But when I looked down at his lifeless body, I didn¡¯t feel anything. There was no rush of satisfaction, no sense of justice¡ªnothing. It was like squashing a bug. The apathy confused the hell out of me. I¡¯ve never felt that way about anything before. I should¡¯ve felt something. But all I cared about was the eddies.

    Jackie told me the guy had it coming, but that didn¡¯t even register. I didn¡¯t care about the reasons. I just wanted to get paid.

    We reached the drop-off point, and Jackie took care of the deal. I just played my part, looking as tough as I could with the Lexington still in my hand. I glanced down at myself and noticed some blood from the Maelstrom on me. It would probably help with the intimidation factor, I guess.

    ¡°All good, hermano?¡± Jackie asked as the guy finished counting the stash.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s here,¡± the guy said, handing Jackie a credchip. ¡°Now, make yourselves scarce. You¡¯re not needed anymore.¡±

    Jackie didn¡¯t say much. He just took the chip, flashed his usual grin, and slotted it into his sockets. His eyes glowed blue for a second before he removed it and handed it to me. I slotted it in and watched as the credits hit my account. Not a bad day¡¯s work.

    ¡°There you go. You did good, kid,¡± Jackie said, giving me a pat on the back. ¡°If I got something that needs two, I¡¯ll call you.¡±

    ¡°Sure, here¡¯s my contact,¡± I said, flashing him my number before giving a wave.

    And just like that, I was alone again. Left to think about what I¡¯d done today.

    How could I do everything so perfectly, even though I''d never done it before? How was it so easy to come up with a plan, aim without hesitation, and not even feel the Lexington¡¯s recoil? It made me feel powerful¡ªlike I was untouchable¡ªbut at the same time, it didn¡¯t feel like it was me doing any of it. Ever since Vomi used that pathogen on me, things have been¡­ off. I¡¯m sharper, faster, more pragmatic, but it doesn¡¯t feel natural. It¡¯s like someone else is behind the wheel, and no matter how much I try, I can¡¯t shake the feeling.

    I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I wiped at the dried brown blood staining my shirt. It didn¡¯t help much, but it was better than nothing. Grabbing the first bus heading to Arroyo, I figured I¡¯d be home by nightfall.

    As I sat down, the city greeted me with its usual sensory overload¡ªflashing ads on posts and screens, cars decked out in holographic billboards. Some of the products were things I liked, others not so much. Instinctively, I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to freeze when it wasn¡¯t there. A second later, I remembered these weren¡¯t even my clothes, so my phone is still at Vik''s.

    Nova¡­

    I sighed, letting the wind from the open window brush against my face. The past two days had been a chaotic blur, even by Night City standards. Between Vomi, the pathogen, and these¡­ memories, Vomi''s memories, nothing made sense.

    Vomi isn¡¯t who she pretends to be. I put two and two together, and yeah, she¡¯s hiding something. And now, thanks to her, I might be turning into whatever she is. The pathogen might¡¯ve saved my life¡ªmade me stronger, faster, smarter¡ªbut what¡¯s the cost?

    Before I could spiral any further, the bus¡¯s PA system cut in.

    ¡°Due to recent shootouts, public transport service will shut down. Warning¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake,¡± I muttered.

    The driver pulled over, telling everyone to get off. His relief was obvious; he probably wouldn¡¯t have to deal with this chaos for a while. I, on the other hand, had to figure out my next move. Stepping off the bus, I caught sight of a glaring anime ad and immediately looked away.

    That meant taking the train. Ugh. I hated the train¡ªalways full of pretentious corpos flaunting their chrome and suits, acting like they owned the city. It¡¯s hard not to feel like a nobody around them, especially when the train stations run right to the entrances of their fancy offices. Once, 6th Street even tried to mug me there. Another time, I got beaten so bad I was covered in my own blood.

    Wait¡­ I¡¯m yapping.

    I killed someone today. My first kill. Then I started analyzing my own body, and now I¡¯m ranting about corpos? What the hell is wrong with me?

    I glanced around and realized I was already at the train station, paying the fee to get in. Wait, how did I get here? I didn¡¯t even notice myself moving. My body acted on its own, following some internal objective. This wasn¡¯t normal.

    I boarded the train and sat down, trying to calm my nerves. Just breathe in, breathe out. But it wasn¡¯t working. My awareness of everything around me was overwhelming¡ªevery sound, every movement, every detail about what people were carrying. I could even sense the credchips in some passengers¡¯ sockets, almost like they were calling out to me.

    Wait what?

    It''s her.

    It was the same girl I¡¯d seen near Arasaka Academy¡ªpastel-white hair with colored tips. She was moving through the train, catching credchips as they ejected from unsuspecting passengers. Her movements were flawless, smooth enough that no one even realized they were being robbed.

    No one except me.

    I stood and moved to a quiet corner, one I knew wouldn¡¯t attract attention. If my instincts were right, she¡¯d target me soon enough. I¡¯d already transferred my eddies to my account, so I made myself the perfect bait.

    She worked her way through the crowd, swiping chips from corporate gonks in suits or loaded with chrome. Then, as expected, she made her move.

    She walked past me, pretending to ask someone a question. I felt the subtle tug as she triggered my shard to eject from its socket. She reached to grab it, but just as her hand closed around it¡ª

    CATCH.

    ¡°Got you,¡± I said, gripping her arm with the most bored face I could do.

    My speed caught her off guard, and for a split second, her eyes widened in shock. She must¡¯ve thought I had a Sandevistan or a Kerenzikov installed¡ªhonestly, with how quick I reacted, I¡¯d probably think the same. But her surprise vanished almost instantly, replaced by a calculating look as she sized me up from head to toe.

    Then she tried to spin me around by yanking me to her side.

    It was, without a doubt, the most awkward and unintentionally hilarious thing I¡¯d seen all day. My frame¡ªnow bulked up and solid¡ªdidn¡¯t budge. Instead, she ended up awkwardly grabbing and crumpling my mom¡¯s old jacket like she was trying to wrestle a brick wall.

    I clenched my jaw, trying not to laugh, but it was hard.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± I asked, my voice on the verge of cracking from suppressed laughter.

    She glared at me, clearly irritated but undeterred, and tugged on my sleeve. ¡°Follow me.¡±

    ¡°Why should I?¡±

    ¡°Because I think we could profit more by working together,¡± she said, still gripping the jacket like it was her ticket to convincing me.

    ¡°Working together on corpo pocket change? Hard pass.¡± I pried her hand off my sleeve, brushing her away. ¡°And by the way, I already transferred the eddies to my account. You can keep the empty shard.¡±

    That caught her off guard. She stared at the shard in her hand, confused. ¡°But that¡¯s¡­ How?¡±

    I turned my back to her and sank back into my seat, done with the conversation. I wasn¡¯t interested in making a scene¡ªI just didn¡¯t want to deal with her trying to rob me again. My focus drifted back to my own biz. Rent needed paying, and the building¡¯s owner wouldn¡¯t wait forever. Mom always prioritized my education over the roof over our heads, but I had to keep both in check.

    My eyes fell to the cyberware hidden inside the jacket. A Sandevistan. Military prototype grade, no less. I already figured it was valuable, but a prototype? That made selling it way more complicated. I didn¡¯t even know anyone who could pay what this thing was worth.

    The girl was still standing there, staring at me like I was some kind of alien.

    ¡°Need something?¡± I asked, not even trying to hide my irritation.

    ¡°I asked you twice already,¡± she said, her frown deepening. ¡°How did you cash the eddies off that shard?¡±

    ¡°By putting the shard into my socket?¡± I replied, my tone somewhere between confused and annoyed.

    ¡°With a daemon in it?¡±

    ¡°With a what now?¡±

    She sighed and sat down beside me, clearly deciding this conversation wasn¡¯t over. ¡°A daemon is a program Netrunners use. It can handle a lot of tasks if the person who coded it knows what they¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± I gestured for her to continue.

    ¡°This shard had a daemon. It would¡¯ve installed a backdoor into your chrome, Biomon, and optics. But¡­¡± She paused, her tone turning suspicious. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing. Your systems are as clean as a blank slate. So I¡¯ll ask again: how did you do it?¡±

    Shit. Jackie must¡¯ve dealt with the daemons first since he had the shard before me. ¡°Maybe the guy before me wiped it clean,¡± I said casually. ¡°Or maybe he¡¯s the one carrying them now.¡±

    ¡°Or he deactivated them temporarily and reactivated them before handing it off to you,¡± she reasoned, her words making an annoying amount of sense.

    But that didn¡¯t sound like Jackie. At least, I didn¡¯t think it did. I barely knew the guy.

    ¡°Well, even if I knew the answer, I wouldn¡¯t tell you,¡± I said with a shrug, leaning back in my seat. My gaze wandered to the window. ¡°You just tried to rob me, remember?¡±

    ¡°Or maybe you¡¯ve got chrome that helps with quickhacks,¡± she mused, ignoring my dismissal as she studied me like I was some sort of experiment. ¡°I wonder what kind of updates Arasaka gives their golden kids.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not Arasaka. Never will be.¡±

    ¡°But you study at their academy,¡± she shot back, as if that explained everything.

    Her digging was getting under my skin. She wasn¡¯t as slick as she thought. I stood up, deciding I¡¯d had enough. I didn¡¯t need her questions following me home.

    ¡°Enjoy your empty shard,¡± I said over my shoulder, walking away.

    I didn¡¯t get off at Santo Domingo like I planned, but it wasn¡¯t a big deal. My megabuilding was within walking distance, and I could use the exercise. Besides, I hadn¡¯t really tested how fast I was outside the gig.

    Maybe now was a good time to find out. I started running, curious to see just how much speed I could manage.

    The moment I started running, it felt different. My legs moved with precision and efficiency, like they were operating on some finely tuned system I didn¡¯t even know I had. Each step landed exactly where it needed to, the rhythm seamless, almost automatic. I wasn¡¯t even pushing myself, but the world around me blurred slightly at the edges.

    It didn¡¯t take long to realize just how fast I was. Faster than anyone I¡¯d seen outside chrome-jockeys running full-speed with military-grade chrome. But the crazy part? I wasn¡¯t even winded.

    The city lights zipped past, neon streaks reflecting off glass and puddles as I bolted down the sidewalk. People barely had time to register I was there. A few muttered curses followed in my wake, probably from someone I bumped or startled, but I didn¡¯t care. I just kept running.

    It wasn¡¯t just speed either. My reaction time was razor-sharp. A drunk guy stumbled out of a bar directly into my path, and I sidestepped him without thinking, narrowly avoiding a collision. My body was moving like it had rehearsed this a thousand times, even though I knew it hadn¡¯t.

    By the time I reached the megabuilding, my head was spinning with questions. What the hell had Vomi¡¯s pathogen done to me? Sure, I felt powerful, but it wasn¡¯t the kind of power I could just chalk up to training or luck. It felt¡­ inhuman.

    I slowed to a stop, my breathing steady, heart barely racing. I glanced down at my hands. They looked the same as ever, but they didn¡¯t feel like mine anymore. The things I¡¯d done today¡ªthe kill, the fight, the awareness on the train, and now this¡ªit all pointed to one conclusion: something inside me had fundamentally changed.

    As I walked into the building, my mind churned with unease. Was this power worth it? And what price was I going to have to pay for it?

    Weird how even though these things that would normally make me feel empowered are just making me feel uneasy.

    The more I learn, the less I like it.

    I decided to skip the elevator and take the stairs, hoping the walk would help clear my head. Each step felt heavy, my thoughts weighing me down. By the time I reached the floor where the building manager¡¯s office was, I spotted him stepping out. Convenient timing, considering I¡¯d never actually spoken to the guy in person before.

    I gave him a quick nod, expecting him to keep moving, but he locked eyes with me and walked over.

    ¡°David, right?¡± he asked, arms crossing in a way that immediately felt confrontational.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me,¡± I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on with you and your mom?¡± he said, cutting straight to the point. ¡°I¡¯ve been calling for days, and no one¡¯s answered. You haven¡¯t even been at your apartment.¡±

    ¡°Got in a car crash,¡± I said, keeping my hands stuffed in my pockets. ¡°Spent the whole day at a Ripperdoc in Watson.¡±

    ¡°The Tyger Claws¡¯ turf?¡± His eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°Are you guys nova?¡±

    ¡°As preem as we can be,¡± I said, shaking my head. But since I was already here, I figured I¡¯d address the real problem. ¡°So, uh¡­ how much is overdue on the rent?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re three months behind,¡± he said bluntly. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I can cover one month right now,¡± I offered, pulling one hand from my pocket to give him a thumbs-up. ¡°That should take the eviction off the table for a bit, right?¡±

    ¡°You better pay it right now,¡± he said, already pulling up the payment request on his device.

    I checked my account, sighed, and accepted the request. That was all the eddies I had for now.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Done,¡± I said, trying not to let my frustration show.

    He gave a slight nod. ¡°All right, but don¡¯t make me chase you for the rest.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I muttered, heading off before he could start a lecture.

    As I walked toward my apartment, the realization hit hard: I was barely scraping by. Whatever this newfound strength and speed could do, it wasn¡¯t going to fix the reality of living in Night City. Not unless I found a way to make it work for me¡ªand fast.

    I step into the apartment, the neon lights from Night City bleeding through the window like a damn reminder of how fucked I am. Eddies. I need eddies, and I need them fast. The real bitch is figuring out how.

    First option: Jackie. I could hit him up for gigs. On paper, it sounds alright, but let¡¯s be honest. If Jackie¡¯s still grinding in his thirties and hasn¡¯t made it to the big leagues, then all I¡¯m getting is table scraps. Selling XBDs for Doc? Sure, steady pay, but it¡¯s nowhere near enough to cover even a fraction of what I owe the academy. And the kind of gonks I sell to don¡¯t have the eddies to pay the full price anyway.

    Then there¡¯s the prototype chrome. Yeah, no. Selling that is asking for a bullet in the back. Working with the gangs in my area? Even worse. Associating with them would fuck me long-term and short-term since that chick already clocked me as an Arasaka student.

    That leaves one last option. And it¡¯s a shitty one.

    Vomi.

    She¡¯s got gigs¡ªdangerous ones¡ªand from what Lev said, there¡¯s real cred involved. Problem is, Vomi¡¯s the one pulling the strings. She¡¯s the one in with the fixers, and if I want a piece of that action, I¡¯ll have to go through her.

    And let¡¯s be real: I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll help me unless I¡¯ve got something to offer her first.

    Oh, fuck.

    I just remembered¡ªI walked out of the clinic without being discharged.

    Shit.

    Well¡­ fuck it. I¡¯ll deal with that mess later. Right now, I¡¯ve got bigger problems to handle.

    It¡¯s late, so I guess I¡¯ll just sleep and¡ªwait. Sleep? Do I even need to sleep?

    I pause, trying to tune in with my body. I don¡¯t feel tired at all, even though today was the most physically intense day of my life. No exhaustion, no hunger either. I¡¯ve got food¡ªwell, noodles¡ªbut I don¡¯t feel like eating. That¡¯s¡­ weird. And a little scary?

    And then it hits me: I haven¡¯t gone to the bathroom either. No piss breaks, no nothing. That¡¯s not normal.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± I mutter to myself.

    It¡¯s freaky, yeah, but¡­ also kind of preem? I always hated having to stop gaming to take care of my basic needs. But now? No bathroom breaks, no stopping for food, no annoying hunger cramps. Nice. If I didn¡¯t have to bathe, it¡¯d be even better, but hey, I¡¯ll take the wins where I can get them.

    Alright, fine. I¡¯ll take a bath and get some rest. Might as well throw on my Academy clothes and prep for another day in Corpo-ville.

    <hr>

    The next day¡­

    ¡°Martinez, you are still not in compliance with the Academy¡¯s dress code,¡± the holo-teacher announces, her disapproving tone cutting through the silence of the classroom.

    Yeah, no kidding. My new frame has made the uniform practically skin-tight. I already filed a request for a replacement, but that¡¯s gonna cost me more eddies I don¡¯t have. The jacket still works, though, which is probably the only reason they let me in.

    To keep things low-key, I tried baggier, more comfortable clothes over the uniform. So far, no one¡¯s called me out on the extra bulk from my muscles, so I¡¯d say mission accomplished.

    ¡°Well,¡± I reply with my best corporate tone, ¡°I was involved in a car crash yesterday during an altercation with a gang and¡­ a senior corporate associate. I apologize for the inconvenience. However, I¡¯ve already submitted a request for a new uniform.¡±

    The holo-teacher scans my response, her expressionless face barely flickering. ¡°Very well. Given the circumstances and the verified report of your incident, we will allow you to remain in alternative attire, provided it adheres to Academy standards.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± I said smoothly before heading to my seat.

    The class stares daggers at me. Their judgment is practically searing my back. To them, a Santo kid getting a free pass on something as sacred as the dress code is sacrilege.

    Whatever. Let them glare. I¡¯ve got bigger shit to worry about.

    I finally did something I should¡¯ve done from the start: got myself a new wreath compatible with the Academy¡¯s updates. How? I swiped one from a fancy-ass store on my way here and configured it during the trip. No big deal. Ran into the shard thief again on the train, but I ignored her. She keeps her distance, I keep mine. Simple.

    Now here I am, sitting through class.

    Surprisingly? It was engaging. The VR simulations made it way more entertaining than the usual boring-ass homework modules. Today¡¯s lecture covered three topics: researching resources for your biz, making connections, and defending your assets from attacks.

    The first topic¡ªresearching resources¡ªhad a ton of options. Most students picked the obvious safe route: sending scouts to scope out new territories or technicians to dig up tech. Predictable, and honestly kinda redundant. The least popular option? Doing the work yourself. Naturally, I went with that. If I¡¯m gonna build a rep as a merc, I need to learn how to handle shit on my own.

    In theory, the steps were simple enough. In practice? A goddamn nightmare. For a moment, I considered backtracking, but I stuck with it. Katsuo, of course, was running his mouth about how lost I was, but I ignored him. It was kinda exciting, figuring things out for myself. Sure, sending someone else might save time, but if you want something done right, you do it yourself. I made a mental note to really dig into the theoretical basics before applying any of this in the field.

    The second lesson was about making connections¡ªsimple, but critical. The focus? How to speak with confidence, even when you¡¯re weak, and how to appear vulnerable when you¡¯re actually at your strongest. We also covered reading body language, interpreting subtle cues, and negotiating. This was gold. Negotiation is gonna be useful no matter what I do, so I paid extra attention.

    The negotiation scenarios were wild. They ranged from basic one-on-one talks to negotiating under the iron sights of a squad, to trying to strike a deal in a foreign country with a president or equivalent. When it came time for practice, almost everyone flopped, including me. The difference? While most of the class ended up insulting their counterparts, I managed to walk away with a ¡°we agree to disagree.¡± Not a win, but not a total loss either. Somehow, even when I fail, I still manage to top the results. Kinda hilarious when you think about it.

    The final lesson was as straightforward as it gets: protecting your assets. The options were clear¡ªhire security, hire mercs, bribe the cops, or handle it yourself.

    Direct, brutal, and very Corpo.

    I, for one, chose an option that wasn''t on the list.

    ¡°May I ask something to clear a doubt?¡±, I said to the holo teacher, raising a hand.

    ¡°What is it, Martinez?¡±

    ¡°The options here are interesting, yes, but I also think they leave areas vulnerable.¡±, I said with a hand on my chin.

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± One student demanded, obviously furious.

    Although I don''t know why because my question will help them out too.

    ¡°Although we don''t tolerate such lexicon inside the Academy, I share his doubts.¡±, The holo frowned at the student, then turned to me, ¡°Please, explain your inquiry.¡±

    As you wish.

    ¡°Let''s put it in a hypothetical scenario, for the sake of the argument, that the options here are taken at face value,¡± I began, leaning back in my chair. ¡°Say you hire a security service. They do their job, sure, but you¡¯re reliant on their competence and loyalty. If they screw up or get bought out by someone else, your biz is toast. Same goes for mercs. They¡¯ll protect you as long as you¡¯re paying, but if a bigger player comes along with more eddies, guess who they¡¯ll side with?¡±

    The holo teacher tilted its head slightly, as if intrigued. ¡°Continue.¡±

    ¡°And bribing the cops?¡± I snorted. ¡°That¡¯s a temporary fix. Once the bribes stop, they either turn on you or look the other way when someone comes after your assets. Doing it yourself? Sure, that¡¯s noble or whatever, but you can¡¯t be everywhere at once. Plus, unless you¡¯re packing heavy firepower and skills to match, it¡¯s just a matter of time before someone takes you down.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s your alternative?¡± the holo asked, its tone carrying a hint of challenge.

    ¡°I¡¯m talking about integration,¡± I said, sitting up straight. ¡°Why rely on external forces when you can make your security part of the biz itself? Hire people who own a stake in what they¡¯re protecting. If their livelihood depends on your success, they¡¯re less likely to sell you out. Train your employees in basic self-defense and tech security so they can handle minor threats without outside help. And instead of just paying off cops, build connections with them. Do favors. Make it a mutual relationship. That way, even if the eddies stop flowing, they¡¯ve got a reason to stick by you.¡±

    The class went silent, save for the faint hum of the holo projectors.

    ¡°Interesting proposition,¡± the holo teacher said after a moment. ¡°Your approach emphasizes sustainability and loyalty, which are indeed valuable assets in long-term business management. However, this requires significant resources, both financial and temporal, to implement. How would you address that?¡±

    ¡°Start small,¡± I replied, shrugging. ¡°You don¡¯t need to train an army or buy out every badge in Night City overnight. Focus on what you can do now¡ªbuild trust, set up systems, and grow from there. If you¡¯ve got the right people and mindset, it scales naturally.¡±

    The holo nodded, or at least mimicked a nod. ¡°An unconventional approach, but a valid one nonetheless. Class, take note of this perspective¡ªit highlights the importance of adaptability and innovation in a competitive environment.¡±

    Oh that would spark some resentment on the class, since if was me who the teacher is saying to learn from.

    Katsuo scoffed loud enough for me to hear. ¡°He¡¯s full of shit. Let¡¯s see how far that idealistic nonsense gets him in the real world.¡±

    I tuned him out, scribbling down notes as the teacher moved on. I wasn¡¯t trying to impress the class¡ªI was just focused on making sure I was prepared for whatever came next. It felt like the most sensible and effective approach. After all, if you lose and the people around you lose too, they¡¯ll make sure you stay on top. Teamwork and all that. It just made more sense.

    When the virtual reality class ended, our grades flashed across our optics, and as usual, I was at the top. Honestly, how did these corporate kids not get that working with others was the key to success?

    Lunchtime came, giving me a chance to leave the Academy grounds and get some fresh air. I made my way to a vending machine and picked a non-carbonated NiCola¡ªjust for a change. I didn¡¯t need food, but I still enjoyed the feeling and taste of a good drink. It was actually the hottest summer on record by Night City standards, yet I felt fine. Well, at least it was important to keep up appearances.

    ¡°So you had a car crash, right?¡±

    It was Katsuo. Seriously, doesn¡¯t he have anything better to do than mess with my head?

    I shot him a glare after a few sips, my frown deepening. ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡±

    ¡°Your mom was in the car, right? How¡¯s she?¡±

    That question¡ªthere was something off about it. A hint of malice, too much edge in the tone. I could sense it before he even spoke. Maybe I was paying too much attention to body language, or maybe the pathogen was giving me a little help this time.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, my irritation clear, ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just concerned about the wellbeing of my peers, that¡¯s all,¡± he said, his tone oozing fake pride, like he wasn¡¯t blatantly lying to my face. ¡°After all, from where¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªwhere I live, it¡¯s hard to get healthcare. Yeah, I know,¡± I cut him off, finishing his sentence because, let¡¯s be real, nobody takes a guy who talks like this seriously.

    His face twisted into a scowl. ¡°You should learn your place, scum. I heard your mom caused quite the scene, crying for forgiveness after your little stunt.¡±

    Oh, you do not want to start this, Katsuo. I didn¡¯t even finish my soda, but I gripped the can so hard I could feel the NiCola dripping through my fingers.

    ¡°And since we¡¯re already on this topic,¡± he kept going, ignoring the very clear warning on my face, ¡°how did you manage to pay for your education? Care to explain, Martinez?¡±

    His voice was dripping with mockery, every word designed to piss me off. And, just to make it worse, I realized he wasn¡¯t alone. Two other guys stood behind him, each looking ready to pile on.

    ¡°Yeah, how¡¯d your mommy cover the bills?¡± one of them sneered.

    ¡°Bet she did some pretty dirty work,¡± the other one added with a smug grin.

    I didn¡¯t say a word. I just chucked the soda can at Katsuo, soaking his pristine uniform with NiCola. Then I glared, my face blank but my patience officially gone.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Of course, he didn¡¯t take it well. But what he did next actually made me pause for a second. He started throwing punches¡ªnot at me, but at the air in front of me. It was weird as hell. Even weirder, though, was how slow he seemed. I could see every single punch coming, like he was moving in slow motion.

    When he finally stepped forward to close the gap, I dodged his swings without even trying. It was almost funny. Then I remembered I probably shouldn¡¯t look too good at this, so I let a few hits land, blocked some others, and made sure it didn¡¯t look like I was completely untouchable.

    By the time he was done, he was panting and winded, while I had a couple of bruises that barely hurt.

    Nifty.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a chip slotted, don¡¯t you?¡± he spat between breaths. ¡°Strongarms 400, one of the most expensive combat chips on the market. And yet you held your own.¡±

    He said it like the words themselves were poison. Dude needed to relax.

    ¡°No chips here, Katsuo,¡± I said, brushing myself off like it was nothing. ¡°But let me make one thing very clear: if you ever talk about my mom like that again, I don¡¯t care who your dad is or what the Academy will charge me for the damage¡ªI will make you regret it.¡±

    To drive the point home, I turned and punched the vending machine behind me. Not the glass, but the metal frame.

    CRASH.

    That shut his friends up real quick. Their cocky grins disappeared, and they looked like they were reconsidering their life choices. Katsuo, though¡ªhe tried to play it cool. Either that, or he was hiding how rattled he really was. Either way, I knew I¡¯d shut him up, for now at least.

    Seriously these assholes need to fuck off already.

    <hr>

    Vomi woke up in the clinic chair, still under the lingering haze of the heroin-like substance she¡¯d been experimenting with. It wasn¡¯t heroin exactly¡ªjust some chems swapped out for alternatives, either because the originals didn¡¯t exist anymore or were way too expensive to source. She pulled out her agent, checked the time, and realized she¡¯d been out for an entire day.

    Vik¡¯s desk was empty, meaning he was either taking care of a client or the place was dead quiet. Either way, she dragged herself to the bathroom, trying to look halfway presentable. Easier said than done with the hangover she was nursing.

    Once she¡¯d freshened up, she headed out, her mind set on checking in on Gloria. If her memory of the anime was right, the woman didn¡¯t have long¡ªtwo, maybe three days left after the incident. Vomi could use the symbiote¡¯s powers to heal her, sure, but that didn¡¯t guarantee survival. Fixing her body wouldn¡¯t change the fact that her overall health was in the gutter.

    She changed into something more formal¡ªswitching her pants and jacket for a cleaner look¡ªand pulled on her usual white lab coat. She debated swapping out her shirt but decided against it. It had taken her forever to nail the Android 21 look, and there was no reason to mess with it now. Funny enough, cosplay was one of the few things that had kept her sane after the San Francisco Holocaust. That, and the people she met during her journey back to Night City.

    Why had she even come back to this city in the first place? She hadn¡¯t been sure at first, but a few weeks ago, the answer had finally clicked. That¡¯s why she was building her small criminal empire here, right under the city¡¯s nose.

    Still, she owed a lot to The Refused. She¡¯d fought tooth and nail to preserve the rights to the songs they¡¯d written. Not that she went around acting like they were hers, especially since the tracks she played were just cover versions of the originals. Profiting off them would¡¯ve been a dick move, and the part of her¡ªthe male part¡ªstill inside knew that.

    She kept the name, the logo, and the music. Unfortunately, she¡¯d had to record and sing every track herself. That was its own kind of pain, an emotional gut-punch every time she tried to recreate the good moments she¡¯d shared with the band. Reliving those memories was tough, almost unbearable.

    But that¡­ she couldn¡¯t think about that right now. She couldn¡¯t face it. There was too much baggage, too much left to unpack.

    ¡°Focus, Vomi,¡± she muttered, slapping her cheeks. ¡°Focus.¡±

    The door slid open, revealing Gloria lying on the bed. Surprisingly, she was conscious. The first thing Vomi did was check the terminal by her side¡ªvitals, chrome stability, the whole rundown. On paper, everything seemed fine, but Vomi knew better than to trust just the charts. In cases like this, there was no such thing as too cautious.

    She grabbed a syringe filled with nanobots¡ªnot nanomachines, but something more refined¡ªand carefully injected it into Gloria¡¯s veins. The tiny bots worked their way through her system, repairing damaged organs and jumpstarting the kidney she¡¯d lost in the crash. Her chrome was being accepted by her immune system, but she¡¯d still need meds to ensure her body fully adapted to the foreign metal.

    ¡°How are you feeling, Gloria?¡± Vomi asked, softening her tone as much as she could.

    ¡°Better,¡± Gloria replied in a strained whisper. ¡°I¡¯ve been through worse.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. A car crash wouldn¡¯t do this kind of damage unless your attention was on something else,¡± Vomi said, shaking her head as she typed notes into the terminal, logging Gloria¡¯s recovery progress.

    ¡°Heh, ain¡¯t that the truth, se?orita,¡± Gloria said with a wry smile. ¡°Where¡¯s mi hijo?¡±

    ¡°David? He¡¯s fine. The pathogen worked like a charm¡ªno complications, no side effects. I double-checked everything myself,¡± Vomi reassured her, turning to meet her gaze. ¡°Though... he¡¯s been very enthusiastic about his new physiology.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Without a word, Vomi pulled up a video on her agent and shared it with Gloria. It showed David pulling off some wild tricks not long after waking up from the operation, all the while fully naked.

    Gloria watched, and within seconds, she was laughing uncontrollably. Until the pain from her injuries decided to cut her laughter short.

    ¡°Funny,¡± Gloria said, her smile still lingering but softer now, more genuine. ¡°The boy gets a muscular body and already thinks he can conquer the world on his own.¡±

    ¡°He feels responsible for the crash,¡± Vomi said as she turned back to the terminal, typing away. ¡°Vik says he¡¯s a strong kid, but... maybe his goals are just a little misplaced.¡±

    ¡°Like every son any mother will have,¡± Gloria muttered with a weary sigh. ¡°Where is he?¡±

    ¡°Probably upstairs, still recovering. I haven¡¯t discharged him yet,¡± Vomi replied, finishing her report before walking back over to check Gloria¡¯s vitals again. After a moment of silence, she spoke up. ¡°Now, I¡¯ve got a question for you.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a Black Market vendor doing putting her son in Arasaka Academy?¡±

    Gloria¡¯s eyes went wide as the words landed like a hammer. Vomi didn¡¯t even flinch. She knew what Gloria was about¡ªthe way she scavenged cyberware from the corpses of Cyberpsychos, solos, and Edgerunners. Gloria would grab whatever expensive chrome she could and sell it to the highest bidder. Vomi understood the motive¡ªGloria wanted David to get an education¡ªbut the way she went about it was reckless. A time bomb waiting to go off.

    And Vomi didn¡¯t let up. ¡°Your body is chronically overworked. Sure, your health is improving, but at an incredibly slow pace. You¡¯re still walking a fine line, Gloria. There¡¯s a very real chance you won¡¯t survive your stay here.¡±

    Vomi could have softened her tone, but Gloria needed a reality check. Her sacrifices had consequences, and Gloria needed to face them head-on. What would David become without her? The anime already answered that, and Vomi had sworn to herself:

    Fuck the canon.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± Gloria muttered, her voice quiet. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t tell the authorities about it. Please.¡±

    Vomi sighed, shaking her head. ¡°I haven¡¯t told anyone. But that¡¯s not the point.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s about payment, the cyberware¡¯s in my jacket. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find some use for it,¡± Gloria said, trying to turn her neck to look for the jacket, though her injuries made it impossible.

    ¡°I¡¯m not charging you,¡± Vomi replied, standing up and scanning the room for said jacket. ¡°You got caught in the crossfire of my gig. The least I can do is take care of you two. And I don¡¯t want chrome that already has an owner.¡±

    ¡°You can tell that too?¡± Gloria asked, wide-eyed.

    ¡°Ripperdoc¡¯s one of my many specialties,¡± Vomi said, her voice flat. She didn¡¯t say it with pride¡ªmore like it was just another fact of life. ¡°But there¡¯s no jacket here.¡±

    ¡°What? But I was wearing it when¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Vomi interrupted. ¡°I was the one who rescued you.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ where the hell is it?¡±

    BASH!

    The door slammed open as Viktor barreled into the room, looking like he¡¯d almost tripped over himself. His sunglasses couldn¡¯t hide the concern on his face.

    ¡°Vomi! Where¡¯s David?¡±

    ¡°I thought he was with you,¡± Vomi replied, keeping her voice calm despite the growing knot in her stomach. But it didn¡¯t last. ¡°He hasn¡¯t been discharged yet. He shouldn¡¯t have even left the clinic.¡±

    ¡°Well, he did!¡± Vik barked, holding up a tablet. ¡°And thank God you taught me the basics of Netrunning, because the kid¡¯s using his new abilities without a second thought about who might be watching.¡±

    Vomi grabbed the tablet and scanned the footage. It showed David and Jackie in the middle of a shootout, handing off bags to some guy. The next clip was even worse¡ªDavid walking into Arasaka Academy the next day and getting into a heated altercation with Katsuo during lunch.

    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Vomi muttered under her breath. Then, louder, ¡°Panther, go fetch him.¡±

    A low growl echoed from the hallway, followed by the rapid sound of paws pounding against the ground as Panther bolted out of the clinic.

    David was in deep shit.

 Chapter 42: Derezzed

    David Martinez

    Alright, class is done for the day. Now I need to figure out how to scrounge up some eddies. I¡¯ve got a Lexington, which could net me maybe a hundred at any gun store. Not ideal, but it¡¯s a start. Problem is, it¡¯s the only piece of iron I¡¯ve got, so selling it? Not exactly the brightest move. I know what something like a Copperhead Assault Rifle would fetch, but those kinds of weapons? Way out of reach for now¡ªtoo risky, too time-consuming.

    And let¡¯s be real, I¡¯ve got no clue where to even steal something like that, much less find someone to buy it off me. So, guns are off the table for now. Same with stealing other random junk; I don¡¯t even have enough eddies for a bus ride home, and I¡¯m still rocking this Arasaka Academy jacket, which makes me stand out like a sore thumb.

    What about cargo jobs? Maybe scoping out shipments in a semi-safe spot and grabbing something that won¡¯t set off alarms? Could work, but then again, I don¡¯t know anyone willing to pay for hot goods like that. Drugs? No way. I barely know anything about that scene, even though I live in Arroyo.

    So, after running through every option and crossing most of them off in my head, I landed on something simple: booze. Why? Everyone loves a drink, myself included. And pricier drinks? That¡¯s a whole other game¡ªpeople are willing to pay decent cash for them. Sure, it wouldn¡¯t bring in massive eddies, but a steady flow of small-time profits? That works for me.

    Luckily, I know just the spot¡ªfunnily enough, right near my home.

    There¡¯s a bar called Vista Del Taco. Don¡¯t let the name fool you¡ªit¡¯s nowhere near as good as it sounds. Despite the Hispanic branding, it¡¯s as generic as it gets. But the place is always packed with people who can afford the overpriced drinks they serve. Best part? Security¡¯s almost nonexistent. I¡¯ve seen it myself every time I¡¯ve ridden the bus.

    Gangs don¡¯t bother with alcohol. Scavs are too busy chasing chrome, Voodoo Boys have their niche in cyberware, 6th Street hoards guns, and so on. Booze? No one¡¯s claimed that turf. That means it¡¯s fair game.

    I sprinted home. Running doesn¡¯t tire me out anymore, so I kept up the pace while planning my next steps. If I was going to hit this place, I¡¯d need a disguise. Couldn¡¯t risk anyone connecting me to this. Reputation¡¯s a funny thing: StreetCred¡¯s great, but you want to be reliable, not infamous. Big difference there.

    For clothes, I¡¯d grab the ones my mom bought me years ago. She must¡¯ve thought I¡¯d grow into them someday, but I was always too scrawny to make them work. Now, with my new build, they¡¯d finally fit. Perfect for throwing people off the trail.

    Only one problem¡ªmy hair.

    I like my hair. Hell, I love it. But it¡¯s way too recognizable. If I want this to work, I¡¯ll have to cut it.

    Sorry, choom. Gotta lose you for now.

    It¡¯s for my mom. Hair grows back. She doesn¡¯t.

    I got home so fast it felt like I blinked and was already in the bathroom. My mom¡¯s clothes were still in the washer¡ªprobably because we didn¡¯t pay for it yet¡ªand without even thinking, my body was already moving on autopilot, handling the laundry. It¡¯s still weird that I can just zone out and still get things done, but hey, I¡¯m not complaining this time.

    I grabbed the scissors from my mom¡¯s wardrobe and stood in front of the mirror, taking a moment to say goodbye to my hair. It was a damn good look, but priorities, right? With a few quick snips, it was gone. I tossed the hair, washed my face, and got dressed.

    Black sweatshirt, hoodie up, some slick pants, and a pair of motorcycle boots to complete the look. Honestly, I looked like a low-tier hustler straight out of a holo-drama. Not a bad disguise, even if I felt like a poser. For now, that was fine¡ªI had work to do.

    Leaving the Megabuilding, I took the express route, hopping onto the train without paying for a ticket. Not to get closer to the bar, though¡ªI had this nagging feeling someone was tailing me.

    After a few stops, I spotted her again. That same girl. It was starting to become a habit I didn¡¯t ask for and definitely didn¡¯t want. She caught my eye, recognized me almost immediately, but I kept it cool and just sat down like I didn¡¯t care.

    Of course, she wasn¡¯t about to let things stay simple.

    ¡°You again,¡± she said, her pastel white hair half-covering her face.

    ¡°The hell do you want?¡± I shot back, though honestly, I didn¡¯t care enough to find out.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t pay for the train ticket.¡± She slid into the seat beside me, her eyes on the passing cityscape.

    ¡°And? What? You gonna preach about morals? In this city?¡± I couldn¡¯t believe this girl. Did she not realize where she was?

    ¡°And the system didn¡¯t detect you skipping the fare,¡± she added, her tone annoyingly calm.

    That caught me off guard. I hadn¡¯t even thought about that. But I kept my poker face, leaning back casually. ¡°Glad you noticed.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± she asked, not dropping it.

    ¡°A place.¡±

    ¡°After the Academy? What could you possibly be doing right now?¡±

    ¡°How do you know I just left the Academy?¡±

    She chuckled softly, and it hit me why. ¡°Schedules. The Academy¡¯s database tracks when students check in and out. It¡¯s not hard to access if you know how.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow, smirking just a little. ¡°So you¡¯re stalking me now? Kinda creepy, but hey, whatever turns you on, I guess.¡±

    She shot me a glare sharp enough to cut through chrome but didn¡¯t let it rattle her. ¡°You were in a car crash yesterday. How are you even walking, let alone running around the city?¡±

    ¡°The next stop¡¯s in 30 seconds,¡± the automated voice announced over the speakers.

    That was my cue. I didn¡¯t owe this girl any explanations, and I wasn¡¯t about to start now. I stood up as the train slowed. Fuck this. I need eddies, not her questions.

    I hop out, not exactly where I planned, but close enough. See, the target wasn¡¯t the bar itself¡ªthat¡¯d draw way too much heat. Nah, the real prize was at the booze manufacturer. If you can call it that. Why? Klepping directly from the owner might sound like a preem idea, but trust me, those guys hit back twice as hard. The folks making the product, though? They¡¯re just cogs in the machine, shipping the stuff out to a dozen places. All I needed was to track one shipment and wait for the right time to strike.

    Lucky for me, the building I had my eyes on had a bunch of warehouses to scope out. Perfect for my plan. I parked myself outside, looking bored out of my skull while I watched and waited for someone to screw up or get distracted enough for me to slip in.

    Didn¡¯t take long. After a few minutes of pretending to care about the skyline, one of the workers stepped out for a smoke break. Preem. That was my window. I slid into the garage smooth as oil, acting like I belonged there. Confidence is half the game in Night City.

    Once inside, I ducked behind some crates, scanning for what I needed: a terminal. I wasn¡¯t about to lift random crates of booze and lug them across the city. Nah, the smart play was to find the delivery plans, pick a low-key route, and jack the goods mid-transport. Cleaner, quieter, smarter.

    There was a staircase leading up, and I figured, garage below, offices above. Offices mean terminals, so up it was. Timing had to be perfect, though. I waited until a van rolled into the garage, its engine noise and movement giving me enough cover to dart between the workers. Security here was a joke¡ªno one was paying attention, and the cams were static, locked in place. Easy to avoid.

    I made it to the stairs without breaking a sweat, climbed up, and slipped into the first maintenance door I found. The room was empty, just some brooms, mops, and other cleaning crap. Nothing special. Except for one thing.

    See, old buildings in Arroyo still have one overlooked gem¡ªa blueprint.

    Bingo.

    I scanned the layout, and there it was: a direct route to the terminal I needed.

    ¡°Preem,¡± I muttered to myself, a smirk creeping in. Time to make this gig pay.

    It wasn¡¯t far. Keeping my steps light, I left the maintenance room, glancing both ways to make sure no one was tailing me. Satisfied, I jogged quietly toward the office. A few open doors later, I found it¡ªthe terminal.

    Problem was¡­ I didn¡¯t have the password. The login screen stared back at me, asking for a user ID and a password. Figures. It¡¯s a booze delivery company, after all¡ªthey¡¯re not just gonna leave it wide open. So, where the hell would they keep the login info?

    I started rummaging through cabinets, drawers, and anything that might hold some sort of record. I was being thorough, but apparently not quiet enough. The soft hum of the terminal masked most of my noise, or so I thought.

    Turns out, going through someone else¡¯s shit makes more noise than you realize.

    I froze when I heard a gruff voice outside the room. ¡°The fuck is that noise?¡±

    Shit.

    Heart pounding, I quickly ducked behind the door. It was the only move I had. If he opened it, the door itself would shield me. All I had to do was stay perfectly still.

    The handle turned, and the door creaked open. My breath caught in my throat as a pair of heavy boots stepped inside. I couldn¡¯t see his face, but from the angle of the door, I saw his shadow stretch across the floor.

    ¡°What the hell¡­¡± he muttered, probably noticing the open drawers and scattered papers I didn¡¯t have time to clean up.

    He walked further in, his footsteps echoing in the small room. My fingers tensed against the wall. I stayed pressed to the back of the door, praying he wouldn¡¯t turn around.

    ¡°Damn rats,¡± he grumbled after a moment, slamming one of the drawers shut. His tone was irritated but not suspicious, which was lucky. He didn¡¯t seem to think anyone else was in the room.

    He lingered a few seconds longer, muttering something about overtime, then turned and left, letting the door swing shut behind him.

    I stayed still, counting to ten in my head before daring to move. Once I was sure the coast was clear, I let out a slow breath and stepped back toward the terminal.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I whispered to myself, ¡°time to make this quick.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t risk another search for the password, so I decided to improvise. Looking closely at the terminal, I noticed the faint smudge of fingerprints on the screen, likely from repeated use. Whoever was logging in didn¡¯t seem too careful about cleaning up after themselves.

    Trial and error it was. I started typing common usernames: ¡°admin,¡± ¡°user,¡± ¡°delivery.¡± Nothing. Then I added numbers¡ª¡°user01,¡± ¡°admin123.¡± Finally, after what felt like an eternity, ¡°logistics01¡± got me through the username screen.

    Now for the password.

    I glanced around for anything that could be a hint. A sticky note? A calendar with dates circled? Something. But I had nothing. So, I guessed. Birthdays, company slogans, anything that might be easy to remember.

    On my fifth try, ¡°Arroyo2025¡± worked.

    ¡°Pfft!¡±, I managed to hold out a laugh, because this is the year the company was open.

    The screen opened, revealing the delivery schedule. Jackpot. I skimmed the list for routes with minimal security and high-value goods. It didn¡¯t take long to find one¡ªa shipment leaving this night, heading through a quiet stretch near my building. Perfect.

    I quickly downloaded the schedule to my shard and logged out of the terminal. No trace was left behind, even more when it was the company''s own login.

    Time to get out of here.

    <hr>

    That''s same night

    So, waiting to ambush people is surprisingly boring as fuck.

    I¡¯ve been sitting here for about two hours now, and all I¡¯ve seen are some 6th Street patrols cruising around Arroyo and the usual Night City chaos¡ªa couple of people having full-on mental breakdowns on the sidewalk. Twice. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s all that¡¯s happened, and honestly, watching someone scream at thin air or cry over spilled synth-meat doesn¡¯t exactly keep you entertained.

    Jesus fucking Christ, this is so painfully dull.

    I can¡¯t just sit here and stare into the void anymore. If I do, I¡¯ll lose my mind. Screw it¡ªtime to kill some of this boredom with a quick workout. Push-ups, sit-ups, something. Anything¡¯s better than sitting here doing nothing. And some random guy doing exercises in the middle of the street is the least bizarre thing that has happened to this city.

    Public sex? Yeah, that¡¯s a thing too.

    Honestly, the fact that I don¡¯t even blink at this stuff probably says a lot about how fried my sense of normalcy is. But hey, I¡¯m not here for a therapy session.

    Finally, after about ten minutes, the van shows up. I stop mid-push-up, brushing the dirt off my hands, and watch as it parks near the delivery point¡ªa local BD bar, not Vista Del Taco like I expected. One guy hops out, but I know these kinds of deliveries always have at least two. Standard practice: one drives, the other¡¯s there to pop anyone dumb enough to try what I¡¯m about to pull.

    I casually jog forward, pretending to vibe to some music, muttering fake lyrics under my breath. Sure enough, I catch a glimpse of the second guy sitting in the van. Perfect.

    Now I¡¯ve got two options:

    1 - Knock the guy out and delta the hell out of here.

    2 - Wait until they finish the drop and klep the goods once they¡¯re distracted.

    Both plans have their pros and cons, but the real kicker is figuring out where I¡¯m gonna fence this shit afterward. I know a spot way up in Wellsprings that¡¯ll take it off my hands, but it¡¯s a hike, and I¡¯d rather not have to haul stolen booze across half the city. Still, pay is pay.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Fuck it. Let¡¯s go with the not-so-silent approach.

    I jog up to the van and tap on the window, giving my best "friendly stranger" energy.

    ¡°Hey, got a second?¡±

    The guy in the van rolls down the window, eyeing me suspiciously. ¡°What?¡±

    THUD.

    My fist connects with his face, and he¡¯s out cold before he even knows what hit him. Hell, I think I broke his jaw. Whoops.

    I climb into the van, ready to make my getaway.

    ...

    ¡­And immediately realize I have no fucking clue how to drive one of these things.

    I know the gas, the brakes, and that the gearbox needs to be set to "drive"¡ªthank god this thing''s automatic¡ªbut how the fuck do I even start it? My head suddenly feels like it''s being split open, a migraine hitting so hard that I have to close my eyes and grit my teeth to push through the pain. When it finally subsides, my eyes snap open, and instinct takes over.

    I pop open the compartment under the wheel, spotting the wires beneath the keyshard slot. Without a second thought, my hands start fidgeting with them, twisting and connecting until the engine roars to life.

    ¡­Wait. How the hell did I even know how to do that? Did I just hotwire a fucking van?

    ¡°Hey! The van¡¯s being klepped!¡± someone shouts behind me.

    No time to think. My foot slams on the gas, the tires screeching as I take off. The van lurches forward, and my hands somehow stay steady as I yank the wheel, taking a sharp turn into the alleys. I¡¯m not questioning how I know how to handle this thing¡ªbecause right now, survival is the only thing that matters.

    I keep gunning the engine, weaving through the streets and alleys until I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve shaken anyone who might¡¯ve been following. Once I feel like I¡¯m in the clear, I finally pull over, my chest heaving as I take a few shaky breaths.

    I glance at the passenger seat, where the poor gonk I clocked is still slumped over, out cold. With a smirk, I give him a playful tap on the shoulder.

    ¡°Well, as good as it could be, right?¡±

    This pathogen in my system¡­ I¡¯ll never get used to it. It¡¯s like it¡¯s feeding me answers, skills I shouldn¡¯t have. Skills I don¡¯t have.

    Shaking it off, I hop out of the van and swing open the trunk. Sure enough, the booze is intact, all accounted for. But I know better than to stick with this ride for too long¡ªthese vans are traceable, and I¡¯m not about to let this little heist come back to bite me. Time to find a new set of wheels.

    ¡°So this is what you¡¯ve been up to, huh?¡±

    I spin around, instinctively pulling out my Lexington, only to see¡­

    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± I lower the gun, not even bothering to hide my irritation. ¡°You again?¡±

    Yep, it¡¯s train-shard girl, back for round three.

    ¡°You¡¯re incredibly hard to trace,¡± she says, crossing her arms and nodding like she¡¯s impressed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but you manage to keep yourself off the radar.¡± Her eyes flick to the van¡¯s open trunk. ¡°And stealing alcohol? Aren¡¯t you a little young for beer?¡±

    ¡°And aren¡¯t you a little too nosy for your own good?¡± I shoot back, shoving the gun into its holster. ¡°What¡¯s your deal, huh? Gonna rat me out to the cops? Or maybe the company?¡±

    ¡°Neither,¡± she says, holding up a shard like it¡¯s her ace. ¡°As I said before, we can profit more by working together.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I reply, dripping with sarcasm. ¡°I do all the work, and you swoop in for the eddies?¡±

    ¡°I know a buyer,¡± she says, completely unfazed, her gaze sweeping over the booze in the trunk. ¡°And not just any buyer¡ªa good one. This haul¡¯s worth at least five digits. Enough to knock out a chunk of your debts, right?¡±

    I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. She¡¯s got me there. I do need the eddies. A sigh escapes before I can stop it. I walk over to the passenger side, haul the unconscious gonk out of the seat, and motion for her to get in.

    ¡°Such a gentleman,¡± she says with a smirk as she hops in.

    ¡°You¡¯re not getting more than 15%,¡± I shoot back immediately.

    ¡°25%,¡± she counters without missing a beat.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a negotiation.¡±

    ¡°Then I won¡¯t tell you where to go.¡±

    My glare sharpens. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll find a buyer on my own. I don¡¯t care if they pay less. This is my gig, so I set the rules. If it were your job, I wouldn¡¯t argue¡ªbut you¡¯re just pointing me in a direction. That¡¯s not a partnership, that¡¯s a contract. Huge difference.¡± I jab a finger at her for emphasis.

    Sliding into the driver¡¯s seat, I fire up the engine and slam the door shut. I glance over at her, dead serious.

    ¡°Now, point me in the direction.¡±

    She blinked a few times, her eyes going wide for a moment. ¡°Alright. No need to switch rides. We can make this smooth and easy.¡±

    <hr>

    Turns out, she wasn¡¯t wrong. The whole exchange went off without a hitch. I got my eddies, she got her cut, and the transaction was over faster than I expected. No gunfire, no drama¡ªjust clean, simple profit. This ¡°heist¡± was quick, lucrative, and honestly? Way less of a hassle than I thought it¡¯d be.

    Hell, I even had enough to pay off another month of rent, but something about that felt too¡­ obvious. Paying up the day after clearing my overdue balance? That¡¯d scream ¡°something¡¯s up¡± to anyone paying attention. Nah, I¡¯d hold off on that for a while.

    ¡°See?¡± Lucy said, her tone dripping with satisfaction. ¡°Told you this would pay off.¡± She smiled like she¡¯d just sealed some kind of long-term deal between us.

    I wasn¡¯t convinced.

    ¡°David,¡± I said finally, loosening up a bit. ¡°Complete beginner to the underworld of crime.¡±

    ¡°Lucy,¡± she replied, matching my tone. ¡°Definitely not a beginner, as you¡¯ve probably noticed.¡±

    I nodded, then dropped onto a nearby public bench with a sigh. ¡°So¡­ why¡¯d you push so hard to work together?¡±

    Lucy joined me, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She took a slow drag before answering. ¡°Reliable partnerships are rare in this city. And finding someone who actually keeps to that whole ¡®honor among thieves¡¯ shtick? Even rarer. You didn¡¯t rat me out, so I didn¡¯t rat you out. Simple.¡±

    She exhaled a puff of smoke. Surprisingly, it didn¡¯t bother me.

    ¡°That¡¯s a reason,¡± I said, pressing her further, ¡°but it doesn¡¯t really answer the question. Why me? Any hustler would work with you for the right price.¡±

    ¡°Trust and loyalty,¡± she replied smoothly, ¡°are two very different things. That¡¯s what I¡¯m after. And for now, you¡¯ve shown you¡¯re at least decent enough to trust. For now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I scoffed, brushing her off. ¡°Well, unless you¡¯ve got something else to add, I¡¯m out. I¡¯ve got to deal with the Academy and their endless fucking penalties.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re seriously going back there?¡± she asked, genuinely surprised. ¡°After what you just pulled today?¡±

    ¡°I made a promise,¡± I said simply, my eyes following the cars as they sped down the street.

    I leaned back, feeling the weight of everything I¡¯d been dragging around lately. If I¡¯d just done what my mom asked, maybe none of this would¡¯ve happened. No shady deals, no pathogen screwing with my head. None of it.

    All I had to do was take responsibility for my fucking life. But here I am.

    Lucy must¡¯ve sensed the weight behind my words¡ªor maybe just picked up on my vibe¡ªbecause she gave me a slow nod. ¡°I see. But before the night¡¯s out, I¡¯ve got something else we could do together.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Does it involve klepping shards from corpos?¡±

    ¡°Kinda.¡±

    That made me chuckle. ¡°Yeah, sure. Why the fuck not.¡±

    <hr>

    Lucy couldn¡¯t help but be intrigued by this kid, David. Something about him didn¡¯t add up, and that only made her more curious. Sure, his decisions were solid, even impressive at times, but the way he executed them? Amateur hour at best. Yet somehow, he always managed to pull through.

    Their first encounter on the train could¡¯ve been a fluke, but the way it happened¡ªit sparked a curiosity in her that she couldn¡¯t shake. Did he have a Sandevistan? If he did, and if it was that guy¡¯s Sandevistan, it would explain a lot. But when she tried to hack his system, she came up empty. No cyberware. Or at least, nothing she could detect.

    And that was the problem. She couldn¡¯t detect him.

    Lucy could breach the Blackwall, bypass some of the most secure systems in the world, yet she couldn¡¯t breach this kid. Every time they crossed paths, she tried a new approach. She even noticed how it wasn¡¯t just her¡ªother devices couldn¡¯t read him either. The train station¡¯s transaction system didn¡¯t register him when he skipped paying for his ticket. Surveillance cameras caught only a blurry figure where he should¡¯ve been, and as far as she could tell, David didn¡¯t have Kiroshi Optics or anything else that would glitch out his image.

    Tracking him was a nightmare. She had to jump manually from one surveillance system to the next just to keep tabs on him. Even then, he moved data, eddies, and who knows what else with no visible interference.

    And that was supposed to be impossible.

    What kind of chrome did he have? What kind of prototype system was he running? Did he know a ripperdoc with access to some black-market tech no one else had heard of?

    Lucy wanted answers. Not for her crew¡ªthis wasn¡¯t about them. This was about her. If she could figure out what made David tick, it could open doors she didn¡¯t even know existed.

    But when she finally got close enough to inspect him properly, she came up with nothing. No cyberware. No implants. As far as she could tell, he was fully ganic.

    That didn¡¯t make any sense.

    No one in 2076 was fully organic. Not even the scavengers in the slums. At the very least, people had an agent for communication or a basic neural link. Hell, David had to have something. How else had he paid her for the booze deal?

    But the lack of answers only made Lucy¡¯s curiosity¡ªand her suspicion¡ªgrow.

    She sent a message to Maine, one she knew would at least make him pause:

    "I think I¡¯ve found something you¡¯ll want to see."

    Lucy turned her attention back to David, who was lost in the shared BD, a wide grin plastered on his face as he took in the simulated view of the moon. He looked like a kid seeing something incredible for the first time, and maybe that¡¯s why she didn¡¯t mind sharing this part of herself with him.

    For Lucy, the moon wasn¡¯t just some fantasy or distraction¡ªit was the one thing she longed for more than anything else. To leave Night City behind, to escape all its noise, corruption, and endless chaos, and never look back.

    It was still a dream, far away and almost impossible. But for now, moments like this gave her hope.

    ¡°Hey!¡± David yelled, his voice echoing as he bounced in the low gravity of the simulated moon, ¡°I get it now¡ªwhy you want to come here. This is preem!¡±

    ¡°And this BD doesn¡¯t even capture the full experience,¡± Lucy replied, watching him float with amusement. ¡°Tickets to the real moon cost a fortune. I¡¯d have to save for years to afford it.¡±

    David grinned, landing clumsily near her. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯d say it¡¯s worth it. How many people can actually say they¡¯ve been to the moon? I know I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yet,¡± Lucy corrected with a faint smirk. ¡°But what about you? What¡¯s your dream?¡±

    ¡°My dream?¡± He scratched the back of his head, his expression shifting as if the question caught him off guard. ¡°I haven¡¯t really thought about it since¡­ well, since the car crash. I¡¯ve been too focused on helping my mom, paying off debts, and dealing with all that crap.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯ve got to have one,¡± she pressed, her tone softening.

    ¡°I do,¡± David admitted, his face going blank for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to be at the top of my game¡ªwhatever that game is. Gun in one hand, trophy in the other. Like I¡¯m destined for something big. But, I don¡¯t know¡­ life doesn¡¯t seem to care about my plans.¡±

    Lucy glanced at him knowingly. ¡°Night City. Too noisy and chaotic for its own good.¡±

    That earned a laugh from David, quick and genuine. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re not wrong.¡±

    As he gazed at the Earth hanging above the moon¡¯s horizon, its bright blue glow was mesmerizing. But his eyes lingered on the landmasses, now mostly shades of brown, the green almost entirely gone. He squinted, struggling to spot anything that wasn¡¯t just endless sand.

    Lucy¡¯s agent buzzed. She glanced down at the screen.

    ¡°At your door. Everyone¡¯s here.¡±

    She quickly typed a response, but before she could send it, David spoke up. ¡°Hey, Lucy¡ªwho are you, anyway?¡±

    She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. ¡°I told you. I¡¯m Lucy.¡±

    ¡°Not your name, smartass,¡± he said with an exaggerated eye roll, though the smile on his face remained. ¡°I mean, what do you actually do? Other than snagging shards and knowing where to sell booze.¡±

    But Lucy didn¡¯t respond. Her expression shifted, the smirk disappearing as her focus turned elsewhere.

    David frowned, glancing around. ¡°Lucy?¡± He turned, expecting to see her wandering off in the BD¡¯s simulation. Instead, the world suddenly glitched.

    Then, everything went black.

    The BD abruptly cut out, leaving him blinking back into reality. Before he could even register what was happening, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

    The biggest guy in the room was lounging on the sofa, a Tactician shotgun aimed squarely at David¡¯s head. Around him, several others had weapons drawn, all of them focused on him.

    David¡¯s hands instinctively twitched, but he didn¡¯t move, his heart pounding in his chest.

    ¡°Lucy¡­¡± he muttered, his voice low and steady.

    She stood off to the side, her expression unreadable, but she wasn¡¯t smiling anymore.

    ¡°Is this the clown?¡± Maine asked, his voice low and unimpressed, his expression caught somewhere between disappointment and confusion.

    ¡°I gotta say, mini-gonk here doesn¡¯t exactly scream hot stuff to me,¡± Pilar sneered, leaning in to poke David¡¯s cheek with one of his chrome fingers.

    David didn¡¯t flinch, his gaze locked on Maine like a predator watching the biggest threat in the room. It was steady, almost too steady for someone in his position. Maine noticed it, too. Admirable, maybe. Stupid? Definitely.

    ¡°So, are you finally going to tell us why you dragged us out here to check on a teenager?¡± Kiwi cut in, pouring herself a glass of whiskey from a nearby bottle.

    David glanced at her, noting the metal jawless bottom half of her face. He blinked as she casually took a sip, somehow managing to drink despite the lack of, well¡­ a mouth.

    Lucy snatched the bottle from Kiwi, earning an unamused look. ¡°It¡¯s simple, but it¡¯s also a problem,¡± Lucy said, holding up the bottle as if it would explain everything. ¡°I can¡¯t hack him.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t what?¡± Sasha¡¯s jaw dropped, her pink makeup amplifying her shock.

    ¡°That¡¯s gotta be a joke, right?¡± Pilar asked, his tone unusually serious. If Pilar was concerned, it meant something was definitely up. ¡°I mean, how does Lucy, out of all the Netrunners in this city, fail to hack¡­ this guy? No offense, kid.¡±

    ¡°None taken,¡± David replied calmly, his eyes still fixed on Maine.

    Netrunners. That explained a lot¡ªespecially Lucy and all the ¡°coincidences¡± between their paths crossing.

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± Lucy continued, pointing at David like he was some kind of unsolved puzzle. ¡°As far as I can tell, he¡¯s completely ganic.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Kiwi muttered, her usual indifference giving way to rare skepticism. ¡°No one¡¯s fully ganic these days.¡±

    ¡°See for yourself,¡± Lucy said with a sigh, leaning back against the table.

    ¡°Already did,¡± Dorio said from behind David, startling him slightly. ¡°Ran a scan the second he walked in. No cyberware detected. Nothing. But somehow, he¡¯s still completely dark, even to Sasha¡¯s hacks. I can¡¯t explain it.¡±

    Maine folded his arms, studying David with a sharper intensity. ¡°So, care to explain how that¡¯s possible, kid?¡±

    ¡°Ask my Ripperdoc,¡± David replied, irritation creeping into his voice. ¡°All I know is that the moment I stepped out of that clinic, my life went from zero to hundred real fucking quick.¡±

    Dorio snarled and shoved his shotgun into David¡¯s face. ¡°You think this is a joke?¡± His voice was low and dangerous. ¡°You¡¯re in no position to be playing around. Choose your next words carefully.¡±

    Maine, despite being on the verge of just flatlining the kid right then and there, hesitated. The fact that a Ripperdoc had actually worked on this kid raised a small flag in his mind¡ªone that didn¡¯t seem too important, but he figured asking wouldn¡¯t hurt.

    Not him, at least.

    ¡°Well?¡± Maine finally spoke up, his voice steady. ¡°Who¡¯s your Ripperdoc?¡± He lowered the shotgun slightly, giving David space to answer.

    David¡¯s gaze never wavered, but he didn¡¯t answer right away. ¡°What guarantee do I have that you won¡¯t pull the trigger as soon as I say it?¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the neat part,¡± Pilar grinned, tongue sticking out. ¡°You don¡¯t.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°But we don¡¯t have any guarantee you¡¯re telling the truth either.¡±

    Sasha, who¡¯d been watching silently, jacked into David¡¯s neck sockets with her personal cord. ¡°I¡¯ll know. I¡¯ve got a lie detector for this kind of situation.¡±

    Maine watched closely. Usually, when someone jacks in, there¡¯s a slight twitch or flinch from the subject¡ªsomething to show the discomfort of having their body intruded upon. But David didn¡¯t budge, didn¡¯t even seem to notice. He kept his focus, eyes flicking around the room, like he was calculating every move. Either he was used to this, or the kid had ice in his veins.

    ¡°You can ask him all you want,¡± Sasha said with a thumbs-up.

    Maine didn¡¯t need any more prompting. His voice was cold. ¡°So, who¡¯s your Ripperdoc?¡± He raised the shotgun back to its original position, aiming right at David¡¯s face.

    ¡°Vomi Kurosaki,¡± David answered simply, his tone flat.

    The room fell silent as everyone¡¯s eyes turned to Sasha, waiting for her verdict. She stared at David, her expression frozen in disbelief.

    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ I can¡¯t read him,¡± Sasha muttered. ¡°There¡¯s no pulse, nothing¡­ How did you¡ª?¡±

    Sasha stared at David like he was some sort of anomaly¡ªsomething that shouldn¡¯t exist. The unease was contagious, spreading across the room as the crew realized just how complicated this was becoming.

    ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s showing nothing?¡± Kiwi asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

    ¡°So that means we can pull the trigger, right?¡± Pilar chimed in, drawing a Unity pistol. ¡°No readings, no truth.¡±

    ¡°No lies either,¡± Dorio added, scratching her head with the shotgun. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t jump to conclusions yet.¡±

    Maine sighed, trying to maintain control. ¡°Can you clarify this for us, Sasha? We need¡ª¡±

    That was it. The opportunity David had been waiting for.

    He backdashed off the sofa, flipping behind Dorio and pinning the muscular woman against her own shotgun. In one swift move, he twisted her arms and positioned her as a shield. The crew froze as David calculated everyone''s positions with surgical precision. Maine couldn¡¯t react in time, Sasha was still too shocked, Kiwi was unarmed, Pilar was too slow to process the situation, and Lucy was too far away to act without risking collateral damage.

    A perfect standoff¡ªin David¡¯s favor.

    ¡°You all are a real pain in the ass,¡± David said calmly, pressing the shotgun against Dorio¡¯s neck. ¡°If you want answers so bad, call Vomi. Lucy dragged me here, so this is her problem. But I¡¯m not gonna sit here quietly while you play cowboy.¡±

    Guns were raised, but no one dared shoot for fear of hitting Dorio.

    ¡°You¡¯re making a big mistake, kid,¡± Maine growled.

    ¡°Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.¡± David pulled Dorio closer. ¡°You ambush me, point guns in my face, and I am the one in the wrong? Fucking gonks.¡±

    Dorio tensed, muscles bulging, but David¡¯s grip was like iron. He didn¡¯t budge.

    Sasha snapped out of her trance, her expression shifting to curiosity. ¡°Wait, what name did you say again?¡±

    ¡°Sasha, not the time,¡± Lucy warned, her Monowire at the ready.

    ¡°Shut up for a second!¡± Sasha snapped, stunning Lucy. She turned to David. ¡°Who¡¯s your Ripperdoc?¡±

    ¡°Vomi,¡± David repeated calmly. ¡°She works at Watson. Don¡¯t have her number, though. I wasn¡¯t even discharged yet, and here I am.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s optics lit up gold¡ªshe was making a call.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Pilar hissed. ¡°We¡¯re in deep shit here!¡±

    ¡°Vomi?! You¡¯re alive?!¡± Sasha exclaimed when the call connected. ¡°It¡¯s good to hear from you! ¡­Yeah, we¡¯ve got a situation you might be able to clear up.¡±

    Maine¡¯s brow furrowed. The way Sasha spoke¡ªit reminded him of her early days with the crew.

    ¡°Let her finish the call,¡± Maine ordered, keeping the crew in check.

    The tension hung thick, but they obeyed.

    ¡°Yeah, his name is David,¡± Sasha said into the call. Her eyes widened. ¡°Really?! Oh, damn¡­ We almost zero¡¯ed him. Yeah, I¡¯ll tell him.¡±

    Her optics dimmed, and relief washed over her face. ¡°He¡¯s legit.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡± Maine asked, skeptical.

    ¡°Positive. Vomi¡¯s an old choom of mine. She wouldn¡¯t lie about this.¡±

    Maine lowered his gun, and the rest followed.

    David released Dorio and handed back her shotgun, his expression still eerily calm.

    ¡°Ice in his veins¡±, Maine thought grimly.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, David,¡± Sasha said, catching his attention.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Vomi said she¡¯s gonna kill you.¡±

    For the first time, David¡¯s composure cracked. ¡°...What? Why?¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t discharged.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°...Oh, fuck me¡­¡±

 Chapter 43: (Not so) Peaceful Days.

    David Martinez

    Of course Vomi would threaten to kill me. Honestly, my mom would probably do the same if she knew what I¡¯d been up to. I rubbed my face in frustration, suddenly reminded that I was still in a room full of trigger-happy criminals who nearly flatlined me because, apparently, I "can¡¯t be hacked." What the hell does that even mean? And what did that Sasha girl mean about my Biomon showing no reactions? None of this made sense.

    At least the guns were down now. Small wins, I guess.

    I glanced around and finally landed on Lucy. The sight of her made my chest ache. Her kindness had reeled me in, but I''d forgotten the golden rule: never mistake niceness for kindness.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± I asked, shifting my focus to Maine, the big guy sitting at the center of this mess.

    ¡°You were telling the truth, as far as Sasha could tell,¡± he admitted, scratching the back of his head. ¡°But that doesn''t answer any of our questions.¡±

    Dorio, the muscular woman I¡¯d used as a shield, flexed her arm. ¡°Kid¡¯s got a grip like a damn gorilla.¡±

    ¡°The fuck is a gorilla?¡± Pilar, the chrome-faced guy, muttered.

    ¡°You can¡¯t be hacked, can¡¯t be detected, can¡¯t be breached even when jacked in,¡± Kiwi summed up, narrowing her eyes at me. ¡°Whoever this Vomi is, she must be one hell of a Ripperdoc with some serious connections.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know Vomi was a Ripperdoc,¡± Sasha added, looking thoughtful. ¡°She was a corpo, though, so I guess it makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so she''s the one you got called from San Francisco?¡± Lucy asked.

    ¡°Yup, that''s her.¡±

    Pilar grinned. ¡°Guess Maine''ll want a chat with her. If this kid¡¯s got top-shelf chrome, what else can Vomi hook us up with?¡±

    Now that they mentioned it, why the hell didn¡¯t I just sell the Sandevistan to Vomi? That could¡¯ve paid for Mom¡¯s treatment and maybe even left me with some spare eddies.

    ¡°So much for a fucking Sandy,¡± I muttered, kicking an empty beer can.

    Sasha¡¯s pink eyes locked onto me. ¡°Wait¡ªdid you just say you have a Sandy? An actual Sandevistan?¡±

    I really needed to stop saying things out loud.

    ¡°Well, yeah,¡± I admitted, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. ¡°I was trying to sell it, but I have no idea where to go or who to sell it to. I need the money for my mom''s healthcare. She''s already juggling a lot, paying for my spot at ¡®Saka Academy.¡±

    For some reason, everyone tensed up again. I sighed heavily. What now? No way this Sandy belonged to these gonks, right? James Norris was the one running it last I heard.

    ¡°How is this Sand¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s cut the shit,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Who was this Sandevistan supposed to belong to? What model is it, and who was supposed to deliver it to you?¡±

    The crew hesitated, their fingers twitching near their weapons. But when they processed my questions, it dawned on them that jumping to conclusions might be a bit¡­ stupid.

    Maine sighed. ¡°I called an old EMT contact. There was a Cyberpsycho attack a while back, and I requested his prototype Sandevistan¡ªthe Apogee Prototype. Promised a ton of eddies for it.¡±

    ¡°So your contact is my mother,¡± I deadpanned. ¡°I almost got flatlined over a fucking miscommunication.¡±

    Pilar let out a snort that turned into full-blown laughter.

    ¡°You''re Gloria¡¯s kid?¡± Dorio¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°Shit, that could¡¯ve gone real bad.¡±

    Kiwi¡¯s optics flickered as she scanned. ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth. We still can¡¯t hack him, but his personal data checks out.¡±

    Sasha and Lucy both looked intrigued. Lucy frowned, while Sasha simply nodded.

    ¡°...Oh, fuck. We almost tanked your deal,¡± Pilar said between laughs, turning to Maine. ¡°Sorry about that, choom.¡±

    ¡°Just so you know,¡± I told Maine, ¡°I still have the Sandy at my apartment. Could use the eddies too¡ªgot a ton of fines due.¡±

    ¡°Well, if this is handled, I¡¯m delta,¡± Kiwi said, already heading for the door.

    ¡°Same. Got gigs in cyberspace,¡± Sasha added, practically hopping toward the exit.

    Pilar followed without saying a word, too busy ogling their backsides.

    ¡°Ugh, he seriously needs help,¡± Dorio muttered, clearly disgusted. ¡°We should leave too. This whole situation was gonky as hell.¡±

    She tugged at Maine, who kept staring at me like I was some exotic animal¡ªaccurate enough, considering dogs were practically extinct.

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk later,¡± Maine said as he walked off. ¡°Sorry for almost flatlining you.¡±

    ¡°No worries. Sorry about your arm, Dorio,¡± I called after her.

    She just nodded. ¡°Would¡¯ve done the same thing. C-YA.¡±

    ¡°C-YA.¡±

    That left just me and Lucy. She wouldn¡¯t even look at me, and honestly? I was done trying. The first time I opened up to her, she nearly killed me. Solid start.

    I turned and headed out.

    ¡°Worst day of my¡ªgah!¡±

    Something slammed into me so hard I hit the ground, the impact actually cracking the concrete beneath me. Pain shot through my back¡ªa rare sensation these days.

    When I finally looked up, I found a big-ass panther staring me down, growling inches from my face.

    ¡°Eh? Eh?!?¡± I blurted out, brain struggling to process the situation.

    The panther¡ªyeah, I¡¯m pretty sure it was a panther¡ªcircled me like I was its prey. Sleek black fur, piercing yellow eyes, and actual saber teeth made it plenty intimidating. I stayed frozen. No sudden moves.

    Lucy must''ve heard the commotion because she stepped outside and froze when she saw the scene. The panther shot her a warning growl that clearly said, Don¡¯t even think about it.

    She didn¡¯t.

    What weirded me out even more was that the thing didn¡¯t attack me or switch targets. Instead, it turned back to me and nodded toward the elevator.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± I blinked. ¡°You want me to¡­ follow you?¡±

    The panther nodded.

    ¡°The hell? You actually understand me?¡±

    ¡°David, what the fuck is that?¡± Lucy¡¯s voice shook.

    ¡°I wish I knew,¡± I said, wincing as I got up and rubbed my back.

    There was a small crater where I¡¯d landed. I should¡¯ve been dead from the impact, but all I felt was a dull ache. Somehow, surviving it felt as casual as tripping and brushing myself off.

    Whatever. I stood up and followed the panther.

    Wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest thing I¡¯ve seen, honestly.

    The elevator ride was... interesting, to say the least. The panther was clearly hostile toward me, but it seemed like it had orders to bring me somewhere. Since big cats aren¡¯t exactly known for pressing elevator buttons, I handled that part.

    Honestly, it was just a big cat with pointy teeth. Exotics were way weirder¡ªpeople slapping animal parts on their bodies to look feral or whatever. So an actual animal didn¡¯t even rank high on my list of concerns.

    I kept following it until we reached a bus stop headed for Watson. That¡¯s when it hit me¡ªthis had to be Vomi¡¯s doing. It just screamed her kind of weird.

    We got plenty of stares along the way, and I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t feel preem as hell walking beside a fucking panther, acting like I couldn¡¯t care less. A few people even cursed me out, telling me to keep ¡°my pet¡± in check.

    Maybe we shared brain cells for a second because both the panther and I shot the gonk matching death glares. He got the message and dipped.

    When the bus pulled up, I paid for the ride. The driver didn¡¯t even try to stop the panther, probably too stunned to say anything. We claimed two seats, and I settled in as the bus rumbled toward Watson.

    The reactions from the other passengers were priceless. Adults ranged from curious to downright terrified. Old folks muttered about how animals like that were ¡°too indomitable¡± to be pets. Kids, on the other hand, kept trying to give the panther head pats.

    And then there was me¡ªcompletely dumbfounded when the panther casually laid its head on my lap like it owned the place.

    The urge to pet it was... overwhelming.

    Ah, fuck it. I¡¯m petting this sonovabitch.

    The fur was ridiculously soft, and the panther didn¡¯t seem to mind.

    Win-win!

    "Oh, I could definitely get addicted to this," I mutter, way louder than intended.

    The panther shoots me a look¡ªone that I swear carries judgment¡ªbefore laying its head back down.

    Did I just get silently roasted by a fucking cat?

    Awkward moment aside, the ride doesn''t take long, and soon enough, we''re in Little China. The panther takes the lead again, and this time, fewer people give us weird looks. Not sure why, but I¡¯m not curious enough to dig into it.

    We pass Esoterica, where Misty is outside with no customers in sight. Her face lights up when she sees me.

    ¡°David!¡± she calls out with a big smile. ¡°Looks like your presence will be my entertainment for the day. No one''s shown up. Hey, Panther.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I say, feeling a bit bad for her. ¡°That sucks¡ªbeing all ready, and no one shows up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m used to it. Most people just come to see Vik, like I said,¡± she replies while petting Panther. ¡°Maybe I should change careers?¡±

    ¡°And lose your charm?¡± I chuckle. ¡°No way. You''re too good for this world.¡±

    ¡°Jackie says the same thing,¡± she nods, her gaze shifting to my head. ¡°What happened to your hair?¡±

    ¡°Had to shave it off for a gig. It''ll grow back eventually.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but it was a good style,¡± she says, sounding genuinely disappointed.

    Panther lets out a low growl, snapping me back to reality.

    ¡°Oh, sorry for holding him up,¡± Misty clasps her hands in apology. ¡°If Vomi sent Panther, she probably needs to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, because I¡¯m totally worth being fetched like a package,¡± I deadpan.

    She laughs. ¡°Just go already.¡±

    Misty¡¯s great¡ªalways easy to talk to.

    I follow Panther once more, heading to Vik''s clinic. The door opens just as we approach. But it¡¯s not Vik, not Vomi, and not even a customer standing there.

    It¡¯s my mom.

    <hr>

    Vik and Vomi stood silently, recognizing this was a family moment they had no place interrupting.

    Gloria had insisted on speeding up her recovery enough to get back on her feet, despite strong objections from both Vik and Vomi. Learning that David had resorted to petty crimes to cover their debts triggered her fierce determination to set things straight¡ªa resolve neither doctor nor symbiote could argue with.

    Using the symbiote''s regenerative abilities, Vomi pushed Gloria¡¯s body to heal, though it left her overworked and exhausted. Afterward, Vomi made Gloria promise to remain under care until further notice, effectively confining her to the clinic for continued recovery.

    The process had been brutal, but Gloria endured. A call had already been made to EMT to secure her vacation time, which they surprisingly agreed to without much resistance. Gloria''s relentless overtime had practically forced the company to grant her time off, though she had always managed to find workarounds to keep working.

    But now was not the time for that battle. What followed was a classic mother-son showdown.

    ¡°David Martinez!¡± Gloria''s voice cracked like a whip, her finger jabbing toward his face. ¡°I can''t even begin to tell you how angry I am right now!¡±

    David winced¡ªhe knew that when a mother used your full name, things were about to go south.

    Panther casually wandered around them, eventually settling beside Vomi, completely unfazed.

    ¡°Mom, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®Mom, I¡¯ me!¡± she cut him off, grabbing his ear and dragging him to a chair. ¡°I did NOT raise you to be a criminal! What in that thick head of yours made you think stealing a van full of beer was a good idea?! Mi Hijo, is this how I raised you?!¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to help you¡­¡± David muttered, unable to meet her glare.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Not like that!¡± Gloria planted her hands on her hips. ¡°Never like that! You can earn money the right way if you graduate from the Academy! You don''t need to lower yourself to being a petty thief!¡±

    ¡°But I ain''t getting paid to study,¡± David argued, lifting his head to meet her gaze. ¡°How else was I supposed to pay for your treatment? Or keep us from getting evicted?¡±

    ¡°I said I would handle it! You never¡ª¡±

    ¡°You said that last month too!¡± David snapped, startling her. ¡°All you ever do is promise to handle it later! And then you just take on more work and come home even more tired!¡±

    ¡°Because I have responsibilities! How else do you think I can keep us afloat?! Your future is on the line too!¡±

    ¡°There won''t be a future if we lose our home!¡± David stood, towering over her.

    Vik straightened from where he was leaning against the table, prepared for the worst. Vomi tensed as well, aware that the symbiote''s strength within David could be lethal if things escalated.

    ¡°And there won''t be a future if you''re rotting in prison!¡± Gloria shot back without flinching. ¡°Or do you want to leave me alone in a home I can barely afford?! Is that what you''re aiming for?!¡±

    ¡°Every time I come home, you''re either working or passed out from exhaustion!¡± David paced furiously across the clinic. ¡°Do you know how that feels? Sometimes I just want to vent, to talk to you about my day¡ªbut you''re never there! You always tell me I need to be on top of the world. Well, do you want me to be up there alone?! Where''s the ''we'' in this? All I hear is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don''t you dare play victim with me, David.¡± Gloria''s voice dropped into that deadly calm only mothers could master. Her glare could have cut steel. ¡°I might be your mother, and I might be old, but I¡¯ll still beat the living hell out of you if I have to.¡±

    David¡¯s fists clenched, his teeth grinding as his body shifted with tension. For a moment, it seemed like he might actually challenge her.

    But he didn¡¯t.

    Gloria noticed his hesitation and delivered the final blow. ¡°Next time you even think about raising a hand to me, you''ll regret it.¡±

    David dropped back into the chair, rubbing his face in frustration.

    Vomi cleared her throat, drawing Gloria¡¯s attention. ¡°Go rest. You need it.¡±

    Gloria''s anger simmered, but she relented. ¡°Fine.¡±

    With one last glare at David, she turned and headed to the recovery room, leaving the tension thick in the clinic.

    Vik shook his head and gestured toward Vomi. "Go check on Gloria. I''ll talk to the kid."

    "Yeah," Vomi agreed without hesitation, stepping out of the room.

    Pulling up a chair beside David, who was still visibly tense from the argument, Vik sighed. From his perspective, David¡¯s actions were predictable, given the circumstances. Desperation pushes people to extreme measures. The only variable was Vomi speeding up the fallout.

    Grabbing a bottle of vodka, Vik poured two shots, handing one to David. Without a second thought, David downed it.

    The aftermath was almost comical as David coughed, his eyes wide. "Fuck, this shit burns!" he choked, clearing his throat.

    Vik smirked. "Well, at least you''re more relaxed."

    David rubbed his face, still agitated. "Yeah, thanks for the therapy session, but I don''t need it right now."

    "Never said this was therapy," Vik replied, tossing back his own shot. "But I''ll tell you this: a mother never wants her kid in danger¡ªno matter how good the intentions behind their actions."

    David let out a bitter laugh. "The path to hell is paved with good intentions, yeah, I know. But I was desperate. I don''t have anyone but her." His brows furrowed. "She should be more grateful."

    Vik recognized the dangerous mindset¡ªjustifying recklessness for the sake of others. He''d seen it countless times with patients. He leaned forward, his tone neutral. "And how do you think she''d feel if you didn''t come back?"

    David stiffened, caught off guard.

    "It''s not about gratitude," Vik continued. "The same frustration you feel when you see her overworking is what she feels watching you risk your life pulling stunts like that."

    David stared at the floor, silent for a moment. "But I just wanted to lighten her load. She can''t do everything alone."

    "Have you tried getting a job? Like a real one¡ªwith a contract and everything?"

    David''s eyes narrowed. "You insinuating something?"

    "I''m saying you didn''t job hunt," Vik chuckled. "Selling BDs might make you some eddies, but you''ll always get just a fraction of what they''re worth."

    David couldn''t argue with that. 15% of thousands in eddies was practically nothing compared to the effort he''d put in.

    "Just old-timer advice," Vik said, pouring a final shot. "I have a steady job, so I don''t know the job market firsthand, but it''s worth trying."

    David frowned. "Where would I even apply? I know a few places, but I still have the Academy. I can''t be in two places at once."

    "And the Center probably wouldn''t hire you because you''re from Arroyo," Vik added with a touch of bitterness. "But there is one thing most people in this city don''t bother doing."

    "Like what?"

    Vik grinned slyly. "Fight crime."

    A long, stunned silence followed.

    David blinked. "...The fuck?"

    "The NCPD runs gigs of their own, though hardly anyone knows about them," Vik explained, wiping down the vodka bottle. "They request third-party assistance for gang raids, investigations, and other roles. It''s not actual police work, but it pays. Plus, there are certain gigs where you can make way more than the base payout."

    David raised an eyebrow. "So basically, I''d be doing the same thing¡ªbut for the cops?"

    "And your mother wouldn''t bat an eye."

    David blinked. "Oh... Oh!"

    Vik grinned. The kid had just realized he could keep doing what he''d been doing, but on the so-called "right" side of the law.

    "Last I heard, a guy busted an entire SynthCoke cartel," Vik added with a whistle. "But instead of handing the product over to the cops, he loaded it into a truck and sold it himself. Walked away with 500k¡ªplus the official gig payment."

    "No way! That much?" David''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Man, I need to get to the PD right now."

    "Hold up," Vik said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Think before you act. You just got chewed out for pulling stunts like this. Let things cool down."

    David frowned. "Didn''t you just suggest¡ª"

    "And you''re not discharged yet."

    David groaned, slumping back in defeat, much to Vik''s amusement.

    Vik couldn''t hold back this time; he burst out laughing.

    "Wow, thanks for the support," David said with exaggerated sarcasm. "Really warms my heart during these tough times."

    "Hey, you said it was your mistake, so yeah¡ªthis one''s on you."

    "Twice," David muttered.

    "I know."

    Vik grabbed a tablet, scrolling through some listings. "Look, if paying us back is stressing you out, I''ll find you a gig. But promise me one thing¡ªdon''t tell anyone I was the one who hooked you up."

    "Tell what?"

    Vik paused, then realization dawned. "Exactly. I didn''t say anything."

    David shrugged innocently. "I don''t know what are you talking about."

    They exchanged a nod, the unspoken agreement firmly sealed.

    <hr>

    Gloria collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. She had pushed herself just long enough to knock some sense into David, but now her body had nothing left to give. The symbiote had healed her, sure, but it burned through her body''s reserves to do so, leaving her dangerously depleted. If not for the synth kidney and Vomi''s constant monitoring, she''d be on the brink of organ failure.

    "I did warn you," Vomi said, injecting essential nutrients directly into her veins.

    "This is nothing compared to what I''ve endured to keep him from doing exactly what he''s doing now," Gloria muttered, wincing from the pain now radiating through her body.

    "And if you die?" Vomi''s voice was sharp, her gaze unwavering. "What do you think David would do? He has the capability¡ªand with no one to restrain him..."

    Vomi didn''t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear. Gloria''s expression darkened. She hated that Vomi had a point. David had always acted on impulse, doing whatever seemed right in the moment without considering the consequences. Too spontaneous for his own good. And Gloria hadn¡¯t always been there to guide him. He¡¯d learned life his way, not the way she''d tried to teach him.

    Parenting was hard.

    "Did you call the Academy?" she asked after a long silence. "They need to know where he is, or he¡¯ll get expelled."

    "I''ll contact them soon. Your health is the priority right now," Vomi said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

    After finishing the procedures, Vomi sat down and pulled out an inhaler. Though it was branded as Black Lace, she''d swapped the contents for a sedative of her own creation. She hadn''t decided what to call it yet.

    "You shouldn¡¯t use that," Gloria warned, noticing how Vomi¡¯s muscles visibly relaxed after a puff. "That stuff will break your body."

    "Says the woman... who overworked herself..." Vomi slurred, her body melting into the chair. "Feels good though..."

    "My Ripperdoc is a stoner," Gloria chuckled bitterly. "Should''ve figured¡ªthis is Night City."

    "Relax..." Vomi trailed off, still under the effects of the sedative. "Not like he can do anything..."

    There wasn¡¯t much for them to do but rest¡ªand, in Gloria¡¯s case, tolerate Vomi''s drug habits. She pulled out her Agent and started browsing cyberspace for something to entertain herself. There were plenty of shows she¡¯d missed while working, so, as messed up as it sounded, now was the perfect time to catch up.

    After a while, David entered the room. "Hey, Vomi."

    "Hmm?" she responded, still buzzed.

    "I need help selling that chrome." He held up an EMT jacket. "Mom managed to klep a Sandy, but I don¡¯t trust the buyer. Mind if I sell it here?"

    Gloria glanced up from her search. "Oh, so you took it," she said dryly. "Thought I got robbed in the crash."

    David''s gaze flickered with lingering resentment, but at least it wasn''t hostile. "Yeah. I didn''t know what to do with it, so I just kept it at home."

    "Smart move." She went back to browsing.

    Vomi stood up, stretching as a few pops echoed from her spine. "I¡¯ll help if I can see the Sandevistan."

    David opened the jacket, revealing the chrome. "How much do you think it''ll go for?"

    "Put it on the workbench," Vomi instructed, gesturing. "And grab that bag for me."

    David did as told. Vomi gathered scanners and a laptop, connecting the Sandevistan for analysis. Despite being under the effects of a dangerously potent sedative, she worked efficiently, jotting down notes on post-its and scraps of paper.

    After a few minutes, she frowned, humming deeply. "This is a dangerous prototype¡ªan Apogee mod pushed to the absolute limit of both the user and the Sandy¡¯s capabilities."

    "What does that mean?" David asked, eyeing the graphs and notes she¡¯d scribbled.

    "It means unless someone has an insanely high tolerance to chrome, they''ll go cyberpsychotic almost instantly."

    David winced. "Even if it''s their first piece of chrome?"

    Vomi arched a brow with mock suspicion. "What, you planning to use it?"

    "W-Well, no, I wasn''t¡ª"

    "Don''t let him chrome up without my authorization!" Gloria shouted from across the room.

    Vomi sighed. "It wouldn¡¯t be ethical for me to suggest it anyway. And besides, you don¡¯t need it¡ªyou already broke the couch with your strength alone."

    David rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Y-Yeah... sorry about that."

    "Point is," Vomi continued, turning back to the Sandevistan, "this needs to be toned down, refined, to make it safe."

    "And that¡¯s not possible right now," David said with a shake of his head. "But that¡¯s fine¡ªI just want to sell it."

    "Who said it can''t be done?"

    David paused. "Wait, you can fix it?"

    "I work with chrome, David," Vomi said, opening a toolbox. "In more ways than just sticking it inside people. Just tell your buyer it''s dangerous without a fix¡ªhe''ll get it."

    "Alright," David nodded, trusting her expertise.

    He pulled out his Agent and sent a text to Lucy, mainly because he didn¡¯t have Maine¡¯s number. He explained the situation with the Sandy. Lucy''s reply came almost instantly, though it wasn''t about the chrome.

    ¡°How are you even alive?¡±

    David snorted. Yeah, maybe having a Panther show up to retrieve him was a bit wild, but for him, it was just one of those strange Night City moments you shrug off and forget.

    He typed back: ¡°Nothing happened. It was just Vomi''s way of letting me know I fucked up. Can you let Maine know about the Sandy? Or just send me his contact?¡±

    Lucy¡¯s response was short: she sent Maine¡¯s contact without a word. David figured she probably didn¡¯t want to get involved¡ªor was still processing the fact that the guy held hostage in her home was now casually texting her about business.

    David sighed and messaged Maine, explaining what Vomi had told him about the dangerous prototype.

    Maine''s reply was blunt and predictable: ¡°I don¡¯t want it tinkered with. I¡¯ll buy it as-is, or the deal¡¯s off.¡±

    "That''s... unfortunate?" David muttered, confused.

    One thing the Academy drilled into his head was that sellers had the upper hand. Having someone capable of refining the Sandevistan should¡¯ve been a selling point, not a problem. Maine rejecting an improved, safer version¡ªdespite potentially sacrificing some performance¡ªseemed downright gonk.

    Then again, David had learned the hard way that common sense was no longer common in Night City.

    "Did he say he doesn''t want it messed with or something?" Vomi asked, still focused on her work as though already predicting Maine''s response.

    "Yeah. Should we cancel the deal?" David asked, watching her swap out parts of the Sandy. He wasn¡¯t a Ripperdoc, but he understood enough to know she was upgrading the connections to the nervous system and reinforcing components to handle the charge of the speed boosters.

    "No need. Just call him on this," Vomi said, nodding toward the laptop beside her.

    David jacked in and initiated a video call. After a few seconds, Maine picked up, clearly driving a car that definitely wasn¡¯t his.

    "What do you want, kid? I already said I don''t want any fixes," Maine grumbled, adjusting his sunglasses.

    "I¡¯m Vomi," she introduced herself without looking up from her work. "Ripperdoc, scientist, biologist, and a few other things you probably don''t care about."

    Maine blinked, surprised. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Vomi. Whatever you did, that kid¡¯s a damn ghost to any Netrunner. Respect for that."

    "I''ll be direct, Mr. Maine," Vomi said, still focused on her work. "This Sandevistan will fry your brain and turn you psycho the moment you chip it in. The usual sedatives to stave off cyberpsychosis won''t last more than a few minutes before you''d completely lose yourself. As a professional, I''d advise you not to install it¡ªbut I know people like you never listen to specialists, no matter how crucial the advice."

    Maine''s expression hardened, but he nodded. "I''m listening."

    "I''m doing a bare-bones update to make it usable without frying your mind. I could restore its full power, but that would take time¡ªsomething neither David nor you seem to have. So, I''m scaling back the speed boost to keep it safe. It''ll still outperform standard boosterware, just without the risk of psychosis. Is that enough to convince you to buy it? If not, I¡¯ve got no problem keeping it for myself or selling it elsewhere."

    David blinked. Damn, that was impressive. Vomi broke down every detail¡ªwhat was wrong, what would happen, what she was doing to fix it, and why it mattered. Most Ripperdocs would¡¯ve just handed the chrome over and let the buyer self-destruct. But not Vomi. She even threw in a power move, making it clear that the deal was on her terms, not his.

    A masterclass in negotiation.

    "So you''re saying I can''t just take it from you if I want to?" Maine chuckled, clearly challenging her. "You know who I am, right?"

    Vomi, utterly unimpressed, held up a part of the Sandy, examining it closely. "No, Mr. Maine. You wouldn''t be able to klepp it from me, even if you brought your entire crew." She calmly reinstalled the component, seemingly satisfied with her work. "If you want the Sandy, those are the terms. But hey¡ªfeel free to try and rob it. I could use the exercise."

    "Wait, what?" Gloria and David blurted in unison, eyes wide.

    She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her tone calm but edged with challenge. "I''m a merc too¡ªI know how these deals go. Maybe you''d actually make me feel something. Even my own drugs don¡¯t hit the same anymore."

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sasha burst in without warning, startling Maine and everyone else as they winced at the sudden intrusion. "Vomi! Maine! No gunfights between my chooms!"

    "Hello again, Sasha," Vomi said, rubbing her ears. "We didn''t have time to catch up."

    "Yeah, and I need to know how you became such a bitch," Sasha smirked. "Seriously, you weren''t like this when we first met. You were so... reserved."

    Vomi opened her mouth but stayed silent.

    Maine frowned, his patience wearing thin. "Can someone explain what the fuck is going on?"

    "As I said when that guy was in our sights," Sasha pointed at David, "Vomi is a choom of mine. One of the few survivors of the San Francisco Holocaust."

    "The only survivor," Vomi corrected, lifting the Sandevistan to show the camera. "The chrome is ready to be chipped if you wish. Just let me know when."

    "And you trust this doc? Didn''t you say she was a corpo before?" Maine scoffed, eyeing the "fixed" Sandevistan with skepticism.

    "Oh, I know a lot more about her than you''d ever want to," Sasha said with a surprisingly serious expression. "I trust her, and she trusts me. Right, Vomi?"

    "If you keep your mouth shut about that, then yes."

    Both women nodded in mutual understanding.

    Maine sighed. "Fine. Ping me the location. But I''ll only transfer the eddies once the chrome''s in me."

    "No," David said firmly. "That''s not how it works, choom. Half now, then the rest after you chip."

    If there was one thing the Academy had taught David¡ªsomething he already knew¡ªit was how to handle negotiations, especially face-to-face deals. Maine could easily chip the chrome and ghost them or even kill everyone, just as Vomi could refuse to sell and scam people into transferring eddies. The safest way was to establish mutual stakes: proof of payment and a seller¡¯s obligation to deliver.

    "Smart move," Sasha noted. "Both sides stay on equal footing."

    "I sell XBDs. I know how this goes," David said, exhaling heavily through his nose, a sign of past negotiations gone wrong.

    Maine and Vomi¡¯s eyes both glowed gold as the transaction confirmed, their expressions somewhat satisfied.

    "Alright," Vomi said, prepping the surgery room. "I''ll ping you the location. Just don''t shoot us out of habit."

    The call ended as she left the workbench. David looked visibly eager about the incoming eddies, while Gloria''s concern was evident.

    She finally voiced it. "Vomi, are you an actual mercenary?"

    Vomi didn''t turn. "Yes. I told you the whole ''free healthcare'' thing was because you got caught in one of my gigs." She gestured at David. "Though your son seems determined not to leave a debt unpaid."

    David just shrugged, casting a glance at Panther, who stood silently, observing.

    "How long have you been standing there?" David muttered.

    "Who?" Vomi asked, then noticed Panther still standing in the same spot. "Oh, you. Come here."

    Panther sauntered over and sat beside her, his tail flicking lazily before curling around himself. Vomi gave him a few absentminded pets before resuming her work.

    "So, how much do you want for the fees?" David asked. "Mom''s treatment must be expensive."

    Vomi hesitated. She didn''t want to charge him, but he clearly wasn''t going to drop the issue. The chrome could easily sell for a six-figure paycheck if haggled properly, and Maine had already paid enough for something in that ballpark. There was a lot to consider when deciding her cut¡ªbut honestly, she didn¡¯t want one at all. Still, she''d need to throw out a number to end the discussion.

    "I''ll take half," she finally said. "The other half is yours."

    "Fair enough," David agreed without hesitation.

    That was... dumb. But whatever.

    "Wait, so that means...?" Gloria asked, looking hopeful.

    "It means your care has been paid¡ªplus interest," Vomi replied, exhaling smoke from her inhaler. "Now you two should rest. There''s a gaming console in the living room, David. Knock yourself out."

    David huffed. "I''m fine. Why can''t you just discharge me already?"

    "You know what the pathogen does, right?" Vomi pointed to his forehead. "You''ve seen the memories. I need to monitor you so I can reverse it if things go sideways."

    Yeah, David had to agree with that. Regenerating from a pool of purple goo wasn''t exactly on his bucket list¡ªespecially when Vomi apparently survived a nuke.

    Wait.

    She survived a nuke.

    "Riiiight," David muttered, shuffling toward the living room.

    Yeah. Probably best to keep that information to himself.

 Chapter 44: Afternoon in Night City.

    David Martinez

    The deal went smoother than I expected, all things considered. Maine showed up with Sasha, who was dead set on meeting Vomi face-to-face. The whole room was heavy with awkward tension¡ªprobably because earlier today, Maine had me at gunpoint. But honestly? I¡¯m over it. Both sides were in the dark, and misunderstandings happen.

    Sasha, of course, came in guns blazing with questions: what went down in San Francisco, what happened to the "original members," what became of the corps after the blast, and whether Vomi still had the "parasite."

    I immediately knew she meant the pathogen.

    After the sale, Vomi transferred my cut, and¡ª

    "Holy shit!" I blurted as the numbers kept climbing. And climbing.

    Were they ever going to stop?!

    "Kid surprised by how valuable the prototype was?" Maine whispered to Vomi, amused.

    "He¡¯s probably never seen how expensive chrome can get," Vomi replied. Then she pivoted without missing a beat. "By the way, if you have any other cyberware that needs chipping, repairs, or recalibration, just let me know. I''m available most of the time anyway."

    Maine, already testing the Sandevistan, zipped across the living room like a hyper kid, repeatedly darting in front of the TV where the console was running Criminal Mastermind 5.

    Honestly? I would¡¯ve done the exact same fucking thing.

    "Thanks for the tip, but I''ll pass for now," Maine said, although it sounded more like a temporary refusal. He glanced at my mom. "And sorry about the whole mess with... well, David."

    "H-hey!" I stammered, clearly offended.

    Mom just waved it off, too tired to care. "Don''t worry about it, Maine. At least mi hijo is doing a man¡¯s duty and paying the bills. Legally," she added, giving me a pointed look.

    "As legal as it gets in Night City," Vomi quipped dryly, though her face remained serious.

    Sasha poked the Sandy embedded in Maine¡¯s spine. "How many uses a day do you think he can handle?"

    "Four, maybe five if he¡¯s lucky," Vomi replied, handing him a bottle of pills. "Take these at least once a day, or your body will fall apart¡ªliterally. That Sandevistan is now your spine."

    "I don¡¯t need meds to deal with my chrome," Maine scoffed.

    "Suit yourself," Vomi said, setting the bottle on the table. "But when it stops being about willpower and becomes about basic motor function, don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you. You won¡¯t even be able to crawl without those meds. But hey, I make money from people¡¯s mistakes, not their self-preservation."

    "Oof," Sasha winced playfully. "How''re you gonna spin that one, boss?"

    "Ugh, fine." Maine grabbed the bottle and shoved it in his pocket. "One a day, right?"

    "Yu-huh."

    He headed toward the door but paused. "Rest well, Gloria. Maybe I''ll call you for another chrome.

    Mom gave a tired nod.

    "Ready, Sasha?" Maine asked.

    "I''ll stay a bit longer," she said, shaking her head. Her bright smile never wavered. "Got something to talk about with Vomi."

    Something about that piqued my curiosity.

    "Is it about your chrome legs?" I asked, pointing at them. "They look like Lynx Paws."

    Sasha''s eyes widened slightly. "You noticed that?"

    "I did too," Vomi added, "but I wasn''t going to be that direct."

    "In that case, I''mma delta," Maine said before leaving without another word.

    Sasha shook her legs playfully. "And you noticed even the branding?" she asked, clearly impressed.

    "They don''t make a single sound," I replied, glancing at the ceiling.

    That was true, but it wasn''t the real reason I knew they were cyberware. The moment Sasha got near me, I just... felt it. Like catching something out of the corner of my eye¡ªexcept it wasn''t sight, exactly. I sensed the chrome, the same way I''d felt everyone else''s cyberware back at Lucy''s place, even Maine''s projectile launcher. This pathogen keeps on giving, and honestly? I''m here for it.

    "Oh, that makes sense," Sasha said, nodding as her confusion vanished.

    "So how''d you get them?" I asked, flopping onto the new couch since, y''know, I broke the last one.

    "That''s exactly what I wanted to talk to Vomi about," she admitted, turning to the lab-coated woman. "It was thanks to a gig we did at Afterlife."

    "Whoa, you''re in Afterlife?" I was genuinely surprised. "Preem. Also dangerous as hell."

    "I guess your legs..." Mom trailed off, clearly catching on.

    Sasha''s smile turned wry. "It was a job hitting BioTechnica''s servers. But something... unrelated happened, and I wanted it to be known."

    BioTechnica, huh? That corp was always up to something shady. News about them was so chaotic that finding anything specific was almost impossible. The only thing I could remember from recent headlines was their project to bring back extinct animals. Sure, it sounded noble¡ªcattle for agriculture and all¡ªbut it was obviously just another way to rake in eddies.

    Never trust corpos, even when they''re doing the "right" thing.

    "The Securicine case, right?" Vomi asked, her voice sharp with rage. "Fucking BioTechnica."

    Oh yeah, that whole mess. The painkillers that caused neurodegeneration¡ªbasically Brain Failure. It was a huge scandal back in the day, but people quickly forgot once BioTechnica swooped in with a "new and improved" version. Real convenient, and wouldn''t you know it, their stock prices shot right back up. Corpos always have a way of twisting bad press into profit. I know because I study among them.

    "Yeah," Sasha confirmed, her usual smile completely gone, replaced by raw anger. "It was supposed to help with the phantom pain chrome gives¡ªsupposed to aid people. But it killed everyone who used it. And BioTechnica wasn¡¯t going to stop making it because it was profitable. I had to make it public for everyone who would''ve suffered from it."

    "But what made you bet your ganic legs on it?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "That''s a hell of a price to pay."

    "My mom died because of Securicine," she said, practically spitting the words.

    Ah, now I get it. Totally relatable. Fuck them and their "super profitable" painkiller biz.

    "What you did was noble," Mom said, resting a hand on her forehead. "But it was also costly."

    I grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to her. "C''mon now, you shouldn''t even be talking. Just rest, okay?"

    She took the bottle but didn''t drink right away. I turned back to Vomi and Sasha, who were both stewing in a tense silence. Eventually, Vomi broke it.

    "You lost your legs there, then," Vomi said. "Do you want me to¡ª?"

    "What?" Sasha interrupted, immediately panicking. "Oh no! Please! You don¡¯t need to do anything! I¡¯m¡ªwell, not fine¡ªbut I''ve accepted my new legs! They even help me sneak around!"

    I blinked. Uh¡­ what the actual fuck just happened? Why did she react like that?

    The door slid open, and Lev stepped in. "Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

    "Nah, it''s fine, Lev," Vomi said, waving him in. "What''d you bring this time?"

    "An engine," he said casually, setting an entire car engine down on the center table. "Mizutani, 8 valves, top-of-the-market stuff."

    Sasha''s jaw dropped. "How the hell did you lift an entire engine?!"

    Vomi, Lev, and I just shrugged in unison. Honestly, this was normal by now.

    ¡°VOMI! I NEED ANSWERS!¡±

    <hr>

    A few days later

    Not much had happened since I was forced to stay at the clinic. To be honest, I didn''t even miss my classes since Vomi set me up with a cooling suit and a way to dive into cyberspace. Thanks to that, I was attending all my classes through distance learning. It reminded me of how things went back in 2020 when a pandemic forced everyone to study online. So yeah, I was still keeping up, even if Katsuo wasn''t thrilled about it. Ever since our little incident in the Academy¡¯s back alley, though, he hadn''t said a word to me.

    Everyone else at the Academy? Different story.

    ¡°I heard he broke a vending machine with a single punch. What kind of cyberware does he have?¡±

    ¡°Figures. Punks from Arroyo are always trouble. Not even Katsuo could handle him.¡±

    ¡°Katsuo¡¯s a joke. He¡¯s only here because of his father.¡±

    The gossip didn¡¯t bother me. I honestly couldn''t care less what these gonks thought.

    Katsuo, on the other hand, was having a rougher time.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already explained!¡± Katsuo practically yelled during a VR class session. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to break the Academy¡¯s rules! Violence on campus is strictly forbidden!¡±

    A classmate scoffed. ¡°You saying your daddy can¡¯t protect you from getting expelled? No wonder that David guy took you down. You can¡¯t do shit for yourself.¡±

    I noticed something then¡ªKatsuo was completely alone. His so-called friends didn¡¯t stand by him anymore and barely spoke to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, those same people had started gravitating toward me, like I was their new leader or something.

    Let me make one thing clear: I¡¯m not aiming to be a gang leader or a bully. I just want my fucking degree.

    "That''s not how it went down!" Katsuo insisted, his voice strained.

    The holo teacher was visibly close to intervening, but I couldn''t take it anymore. I wasn''t obligated to do what I was about to do, but damn, I just couldn''t stand the situation.

    "Leave him alone, will ya?" I said, hands stuffed in my pockets. "Katsuo, it''s nova that you decided to keep things down, but honestly? You shouldn''t have done it. Things are just getting worse for you."

    The student who had been taunting Katsuo glanced at me, confused. Katsuo looked completely baffled, unsure how to respond.

    I kept going, calm and collected. "Yeah, I get it. You tried to downplay our disagreement because we don''t share the same values, but what we agreed on isn''t anyone else''s business." I nodded toward the holo teacher. "Our responsibilities are bigger than gossip or petty squabbles. We both understand that, so there''s no need to keep dragging this out." I held out my hand to Katsuo. "Thanks, though. Not many people would¡¯ve done what you did."

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Katsuo''s expression shifted. His initial shock gave way to an obviously forced smile as he shook my hand. "I''m... glad... we can leave this behind."

    It was painfully clear he didn¡¯t mean it, but I let it slide.

    Most of the class witnessed the exchange, already whispering among themselves. The holo teacher wisely chose to ignore the whole thing. All in all, it was a decent way to kill off the rumors¡ªmostly for Katsuo¡¯s sake, not mine.

    As I turned to return to my spot in the virtual class, Katsuo grabbed my arm. "What the fuck was that? Just because you... helped me... doesn''t mean we''re friends or anything."

    I almost laughed. "You? One of my chooms? Nah, I don''t want that."

    "Then... why?" he asked, clearly confused.

    I shrugged, thinking for a moment. "Maybe for a future favor. Maybe I just don''t want my name circulating around the Academy. Who knows?"

    "But¡­ I thought you..." Katsuo hesitated.

    "I what? Hated you?" I raised an eyebrow. His dumbfounded look said it all. "Nah. I don''t have the energy to hate you. I''ve got an entire Academy bill to worry about, and your sorry ass doesn''t make the list."

    Pulling my arm free from Katsuo¡¯s grip, I returned to my spot and tried to focus on class, though it was utterly boring. The lesson was about contract clauses and avoiding fees when dealing with new recruits, improvements, or legal disputes. Nothing groundbreaking. The only mildly interesting point was how to shield yourself from aggressive tactics by setting enough mutual terms upfront, creating more stable partnerships.

    It reminded me of Vomi and Maine.

    But honestly, I was more aware of myself than the class. How long had it been since I felt tired? Hungry? Thirsty? Even sickness seemed irrelevant now. My hair was growing back way too fast, and I hadn¡¯t sweated once¡ªdespite Night City''s sweltering summers in the middle of the desert. If Vomi gave me this pathogen, does she live like this too? It made me unsettled. Wasn''t life supposed to be difficult to some degree?

    Without those normal struggles¡ªwithout aging even¡ªwhy should I care about...

    Dying?

    ¡°Is there something wrong, Mr. Martinez?¡± The holo teacher''s sudden question snapped me back to reality.

    Thankfully, I no longer flinched at the mention of my name. Despite my wandering thoughts, I was aware enough of the topic to respond. ¡°I was just thinking that if contracts were approached as mutual business improvements, it would make associates more interested¡ªeven if it included, say, exorbitant interest rates.¡± I counted examples on my fingers. ¡°For instance, legal repossession of goods, merchandise, or even properties if demands aren''t met. And that''s just a surface-level idea.¡±

    ¡°Impressive observation...¡± The holo teacher actually showed emotion for the first time in¡ªwell¡ªever.

    Gossip spread like wildfire.

    ¡°Must be in a gang if he knows that much about repossession,¡± one student whispered.

    ¡°Yeah, bet he''s talking about stealing cars,¡± another muttered.

    These people seriously needed to major in law. This was basic stuff.

    To my surprise, Katsuo chimed in. ¡°Not only that, but it would benefit the contractor for security. The one being offered wouldn¡¯t fully understand the implications but would believe they''re getting more than they''re paying for.¡±

    He turned to the class. ¡°After all, who would refuse extra security¡ªeven at the risk of losing your possessions?¡±

    ¡°My point exactly,¡± I agreed genuinely. For once, Katsuo actually made a coherent argument.

    A for effort, A for execution, and A for competence.

    Preem.

    ¡°Both are excellent points,¡± the holo teacher continued. ¡°But how would you address possible backlash from such contracts?¡±

    ¡°Oh, now I want to see them squirm,¡± one girl snickered.

    ¡°Yeah, let''s see the smartasses sweat,¡± another student added.

    Katsuo''s confident expression immediately crumbled as he shot me a panicked look, clearly seeking salvation. I sighed.

    Lucky for him, I already had a way to turn this in our favor.

    I leaned back casually, arms crossed. ¡°Simple,¡± I said, addressing both the class and the holo teacher. ¡°Transparency is key¡ªbut not too much. You reveal just enough terms to keep clients confident without exposing every loophole. Make them feel like they''re winning the deal.¡±

    Katsuo caught on quickly, regaining some composure. ¡°And by focusing on benefits instead of risks, you steer the conversation toward growth and security. Frame potential repossessions as safeguards rather than penalties.¡±

    The teacher¡¯s digital form flickered thoughtfully. ¡°Interesting approach. However, wouldn¡¯t such selective transparency create trust issues down the line?¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± I replied. ¡°Trust is built on perception, not facts. As long as they believe you''re acting in their best interest, the finer details won¡¯t matter. And if they read the contract thoroughly, well... that¡¯s on them.¡±

    The class went silent. Even the usual gossip-mongers were processing our points.

    One guy finally broke the silence. ¡°Damn, I didn¡¯t think about it like that.¡±

    Katsuo, emboldened by the positive reactions, added, ¡°Of course, this is all theoretical. In the real world, ethical considerations come into play.¡± He smirked, as if he hadn¡¯t just fumbled minutes ago.

    ¡°Ethical considerations?¡± I raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. ¡°You sound like you¡¯re aiming for sainthood, Katsuo.¡±

    A few students chuckled, but Katsuo shrugged. ¡°Hey, someone¡¯s gotta keep the moral compass around here.¡±

    ¡°Sure, let me know how that works out for you in corporate Night City,¡± I quipped.

    The teacher intervened before we could escalate the banter. ¡°Enough discussion for today. Well done, both of you. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    As the class wrapped up, Katsuo approached me before we logged out of the virtual. His expression was twisted into what looked like an angry glare¡ªbut wait¡­ was he blushing?

    The fuck?

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered awkwardly.

    I blinked. ¡°........What?¡±

    ¡°I said thanks, you moron,¡± he grumbled, practically turning crimson.

    Still not computing. ¡°Uh¡­ for what?¡±

    ¡°For not letting me sink back there.¡±

    Oh.

    OH.

    Katsuo was actually being thankful.

    And to me?!

    I almost wheezed but managed to hold it in. ¡°Don¡¯t get used to it,¡± I said with a faint grin. ¡°Next time, I might just watch.¡±

    He snorted. ¡°Yeah, sure you will.¡± He hesitated for a moment before adding, ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re even or anything¡­ but at least we¡¯re not at each other¡¯s throats anymore.¡±

    ¡°...Sure?¡± I said, more confused than anything.

    Without another word, he logged off. I stared at the empty space for a second before logging out too, completely dumbfounded.

    I didn¡¯t like Katsuo, and he sure as hell didn¡¯t like me. But somehow, we¡¯d landed in this weird, reluctant truce.

    Welcome to the Academy, fucking I guess?

    ¡°What¡¯s with that look on your face?¡±

    I glanced to my side and found a woman I hadn¡¯t met until now. Ashen-gray hair tied in a ponytail, green, maybe emerald eyes, and a scar across her left eye going down on her cherk. Her skin was so pale it looked like she¡¯d never seen the sun¡ªa privilege reserved for high-level corpos who didn''t have to lift a finger to swim in eddies.

    Oh, and she had the thickest accent I¡¯d ever heard. European, maybe? Hard to tell.

    ¡°I think I just made a¡­ choom?¡± I half-answered, still trying to process whatever the hell Katsuo had just done.

    ¡°Made a what?¡± she asked, confused, before realization dawned on her face. ¡°Oh, you mean a friend. Your language is fucking weird.¡±

    I blinked, getting up from the recliner and heading to the fridge more out of habit than hunger. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not from N.U.S.A.? Where are you from, then?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m from¡ªeh, never mind,¡± she said, waving it off and awkwardly messing with the terminal on the table.

    We were in the living room of Vik¡¯s clinic since I still hadn¡¯t been discharged¡ªsame as Mom. This place was starting to feel like a prison of boredom. Even periodic visits to Misty, where I bumped into Jackie inviting me to gigs I had to refuse, weren¡¯t shaking things up.

    Grabbing a pack of ant chips, I tore it open and popped a few in my mouth. I held the bag out to her without a word. She stared for half a second, then grabbed a handful.

    ¡°You know how to use that thing?¡± I asked, watching her struggle with the terminal. She¡¯d been trying to search for ¡°Sword¡ª¡± something for way too long without finishing the query, ¡°I can help if you want.¡±

    She sighed in frustration. ¡°No¡­ actually, yes,¡± she added, raising her hands in defeat.

    I squinted mockingly. ¡°Does your hair match your age or something? It¡¯s not that complicated.¡±

    ¡°Well, pardon me for not knowing your world that well, niegrzeczne dziecko,¡± she huffed, slumping into the chair and sliding down a bit.

    ¡°What are you trying to search for, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Silver Swords,¡± she said.

    Alright, kinda nova.

    I typed it in the search bar, and images and videos immediately popped up. What caught my attention was her mesmerized expression¡ªnot at the swords themselves, but the whole process. Like she was marveling at how the terminal worked and displayed exactly what I searched for.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I muttered, puzzled. ¡°You good?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just that I¡¯m¡­ what¡¯s the word for it...¡± She furrowed her brows, clearly digging through her mind for the right expression.

    ¡°Impressed?¡± I offered.

    ¡°Yes, that.¡± She huffed in frustration, like admitting it was a personal defeat.

    I turned toward the couch, not bothering to move my neck, baffled by the fact that someone was actually impressed by something so basic. I wondered how she''d react to seeing quick hacks in action.

    ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡± I asked while scrolling through images of different swords. Some looked pretty well-crafted¡ªnot that I had any real expertise to judge.

    ¡°All my friends call me Ciri for short. My real name¡¯s way too long,¡± she said, sitting up straighter. ¡°Honestly, I prefer it. Feels more personal.¡±

    ¡°Ciri, huh?¡± I gave her a puzzled look. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re definitely European.¡±

    Her eyes widened for a second before her face twisted into a grimace. ¡°Why does everyone keep saying that?¡±

    ¡°Probably because it¡¯s true. You¡¯re definitely not American.¡± I crumpled the empty bag of rat chips and tossed it toward the trash bin. ¡°So, Ciri¡ªwho are you?¡±

    She hesitated, looking off at the wall with a sigh. ¡°Just someone who¡¯s been¡­ unlucky.¡±

    Judging by her expression, she was probably thinking about some heavy stuff. I didn¡¯t know much about dealing with people who had that kind of baggage, but I figured I¡¯d give it a shot. No harm in trying, right?

    ¡°If you could please be more vague, I¡¯d gladly not understand a single thing you¡¯re saying,¡± I said, laying on the faux drama thick.

    She actually chuckled. ¡°Oh, then please stay in the void of unawareness and lack of clarity.¡± She even added a mock bow.

    I laughed. ¡°Alright, fair enough. But seriously, let me start so you feel more comfortable.¡± I pointed toward the recovery room, where Mom stood in the doorway waving. ¡°I¡¯m David Martinez. Current student at Arasaka Academy. That lovely lady over there is my mom. And right now, I¡¯m a future third-party assistant for law enforcement¡ªassuming I don¡¯t screw it up.¡±

    ¡°Honorable titles. You must be proud of them,¡± Ciri said with a nod.

    ¡°Not really,¡± I admitted, scratching the back of my head. My hair was growing way too fast again. ¡°Arasaka Academy¡¯s like one of those old noble houses that think they¡¯re untouchable. But I promised Mom I¡¯d get a decent job. She¡¯s been through a lot and still isn¡¯t back to full health.¡±

    Ciri nodded thoughtfully. ¡°At least your intentions are noble, even if¡­ unorthodox. Is that the right word?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°When you do something in a non-traditional way, but it still works.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the word.¡±

    ¡°Good. Sorry, I¡¯m still getting used to the language.¡± She glanced back at the terminal. ¡°And as you¡¯ve seen¡­ I¡¯m not doing well with tech either.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse. Grandmas struggling with basic UI are top-tier entertainment.¡± I waved it off. ¡°But why silver swords, though?¡±

    ¡°They remind me¡­ of home, I guess?¡± She seemed to be talking more to herself. ¡°Nevermind. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Complicated?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Nova. Don¡¯t sweat it.¡± I turned toward the door. ¡°Just don¡¯t break the terminal. Vomi won¡¯t take kindly to that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    As I stepped out, my agent buzzed with a call from someone I didn¡¯t expect to hear from anytime soon.

    ¡°Hey, Davey, been a while,¡± Doc''s voice crackled through the line, laced with that usual false charm. ¡°What gives? My best BD seller gone quiet?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your only BD seller,¡± I deadpanned. ¡°And yeah, a lot of shit went down since my last visit.¡±

    I spent the next ten minutes filling him in on everything that happened recently. By the end, Doc actually seemed concerned¡ªnot that I was about to trust that. This was Doc, after all. Skepticism was mandatory.

    ¡°Fuck, Davey. Didn¡¯t know you were neck-deep in that kind of trouble,¡± he said, voice almost wary. Maybe even sad? ¡°I know how much your old lady means to you, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thanks for the concern,¡± I cut in, getting straight to the point. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Well, good thing I called you when I did,¡± Doc said, slipping right back into his insufferable devilish chuckle. ¡°I got a new scheme¡ªthis one¡¯s legit. Big eddies, and some gonk¡¯s willing to pay good.¡±

    I glanced at my bank account. Technically, I could refuse. Play it safe. Maybe even follow Vik''s advice and stick close to Vomi or the cops. The Sandevistan profit was already solid, but sitting around doing nothing sounded like torture.

    ¡°What kind of gig?¡± I asked, stepping out of the recovery room and heading to the office.

    ¡°See? Predictable as ever, Davey-boy.¡±

    ¡°Shut up. Now talk.¡±

    ¡°Shut up or talk?¡±

    ¡°Just tell me what the gig is already!¡± I clapped a hand over my mouth, realizing I¡¯d definitely shouted louder than I meant to.

    ¡°Geez, fine. No need to yell,¡± Doc grumbled, clearing his throat as he switched to biz mode. ¡°So, one of my clients linked up with a fixer who set up a gig for him. Low-stakes stuff, but the pay''s solid. Thing is, he needs a support team to pull it off¡ªwhich is where you and another guy come in.¡±

    ¡°Support? What kind?¡± I asked, intrigued despite the fact that the fixer sounded like a total gonk who just started. Still, a gig was a gig.

    ¡°The guy already has someone lined up, but I figured I''d call you since you''re always hungry for a bigger cut,¡± Doc explained. ¡°It''s simple: just hit a few spots around town and take out some antennas and retransmitters. Do that, and you get paid on the spot¡ªno risk, no mess.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± I said, bemused. ¡°So, judging by how you''re pitching this... you have no idea what the gig actually is, do you?¡±

    Silence. A few awkward beats passed.

    ¡°Okay, first and foremost¡ªfuck you.¡±

    I nearly lost it. The way he said it was so unexpectedly funny it caught me completely off guard.

    ¡°Second, do you want the gig or not?¡± Doc pressed.

    ¡°Of course I do, but I need to take care of something first.¡± No way was I risking Panther showing up to fetch me like some lost kid at a market.

    Speak of the devil...

    ¡°Hey, Panther.¡± I waved to the giant feline as it stretched lazily and looked my way. ¡°Can you call Vomi for me?¡±

    Panther let out a low grunt, hopped off its napping spot, and bounded across a few tables before disappearing into the hallway. I was pretty used to the idea that a supposedly extinct predator not only lived with us but also understood basic commands. Having a big cat that didn''t mind head pats was oddly comforting.

    ¡°Wait¡ªwho the hell is Panther? And why are you asking for that?¡± Doc¡¯s voice pulled me back.

    ¡°I''m at a Ripperdoc''s clinic in Watson, in case you forgot the last ten minutes of this conversation,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Need to ask my new doc to discharge me.¡±

    ¡°You haven''t already?¡± Doc sounded genuinely offended. ¡°If it were me, I''d have kicked you out the second the operation was done.¡±

    ¡°And that''s exactly why you''re a back-alley ripper instead of an accredited one.¡±

    ¡°Why would I want to pay taxes?¡±

    ¡°Pfft, whatever.¡± I smirked. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna see if I can leave.¡±

    ¡°What¡ªcan''t go without mommy''s permission?¡±

    ¡°You know what? Fuck you,¡± I snapped, ready to hang up.

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Doc backpedaled fast.

    All part of the plan.

    ¡°Listen, my bad. But seriously, this gig could benefit both of us. If you help me out, I''ll be able to source better cyberware. Can¡¯t you do that for me?¡±

    Before I could respond, Panther returned, growling low as Vomi followed behind. Her appearance was... rough. Let''s just say she looked more like a strung-out junkie than someone who''d slept properly in weeks. Probably the drugs she relied on, though, not just pure exhaustion.

    ¡°What happened, David?¡± she asked, voice hoarse.

    ¡°I got a gig¡ªwell, an offer,¡± I explained. Her brow immediately arched.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t discharge you.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m not asking for your permission,¡± I shot back without missing a beat. ¡°I said I¡¯m going. You wanna fight me on that or not?¡±

    Vomi exhaled sharply, then shrugged. ¡°Y¡¯know, you¡¯re lucky I just finished your final checkup. Fine¡ªjust go.¡± She took a long hit from her inhaler and stalked out of the room.

    ¡°Good move, Davey,¡± Doc chimed in through the line.

    ¡°Now...¡± I leaned back, confidence dripping from my voice. ¡°What''s my cut?¡±

    ¡°First, David, welcome to Task Force Neuron.¡±, A voice said over the comms. It wasn''t Doc''s.

    ¡°.....What?¡±

 Chapter 45: Clockwork

    David Martinez

    I''m gonna be real: this had to be the weirdest and most convoluted way to arrange an interview. Here''s what went down:

    Ever since I got infected with this pathogen, no one can detect me unless I manually add them to my contact list. It''s not about being hack-proof or untraceable¡ªit just controls who can actually reach me. So whoever called me had to get creative. They used Doc as a middleman, hacking his agent to forward a gig proposal. And guess who it was from? Or in this case, recommended? Viktor Vector himself.

    Turns out being a Ripperdoc isn¡¯t just about chroming people out. I should''ve seen that coming, but honestly, I was too zoned out to fully process his explanation. My brain just went brrrr.

    But that wasn''t even the weirdest part.

    The real kicker was the Government Agent sitting across from me, looking like he belonged in some secret ops flick.

    ¡°Why the hell did you drag me into a government meeting?!¡± I snapped at Doc, who, for some reason, was also there.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know they were feds until they contacted you through me!¡± Doc threw his hands up defensively. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m in the same boat, so don¡¯t blame it all on me!¡±

    ¡°Please, gentlemen.¡± The Black Ops guy stepped in, his voice smooth and measured. ¡°This is a good opportunity for both of you.¡±

    I crossed my arms, unimpressed. ¡°Yeah, pardon me if I¡¯m not buying the whole ¡®trust me¡¯ vibe. Last time someone said that, I got beaten until I was swimming in my own blood.¡±

    I shot a glare at Doc, who coughed awkwardly and looked away.

    Asshole.

    ¡°Regardless,¡± the agent continued, unfazed, ¡°let''s establish the rules. You¡¯ve never met me. I don¡¯t exist. And this conversation? It never happened.¡±

    He turned to the group standing behind him. ¡°We have three individuals here, counting David.¡±, He finished, giving me a tap in the shoulder.

    ¡°Howdy,¡± the man greeted with a tip of his hat.

    He looked rough and rugged, sporting a thick beard and hairy ganic arms. His chrome was mostly internal¡ªprobably synth organs or titanium bones. Maybe a top-tier Biomon too, though I couldn¡¯t pinpoint the exact tech. His attire was a strange mix, blending 6th Street vibes with Nomad aesthetics. The cowboy hat and worn leather boots sealed the deal.

    ¡°This is Mr. Anderson Kenway,¡± the Black Ops guy introduced. ¡°Expert in any engineering problem you might, and probably will, face during the missions my organization assigns you.¡±

    ¡°Sup,¡± another voice chimed in¡ªa bored pop of bubblegum following.

    ¡°This is Jessy, short for Jessica Cooper,¡± the agent continued. ¡°Any Netrunning problem that comes up will be handled by her. She''s an expert in quick hacks and an amazing programmer¡ªas far as the government¡¯s concerned.¡±

    Jessy looked young¡ªmaybe early twenties¡ªbut she had the appearance of someone even younger. Her orange hair and fan-patterned skin were accented by tribal-inspired tattoos. One blackwork tattoo covered a good portion of her leg. Her outfit? Pure Night City: provocative but not quite vulgar, toeing the line between edgy and arousing.

    Which didn¡¯t match her youthful look at all.

    ¡°Ain''t you too young to be here?¡± Doc asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

    ¡°Ain''t you too old to be relevant?¡± Jessy shot back without missing a beat.

    ¡°I am, but even so, I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°And this is David,¡± the agent cut in, ignoring their banter. ¡°We had to put serious effort into locating him these past few days. Cameras don¡¯t capture any identifiable details, his face appears blurred, his agent can¡¯t be tracked by satellites, and bank records only show transactions¡ªnot the locations where they were made. The list goes on.¡±

    ¡°So the kid¡¯s like a void in the system?¡± Anderson nodded along.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± the agent confirmed. ¡°But there¡¯s a loophole¡ªif David adds you to his contact list, we can at least get a general idea of his location. Otherwise, we can¡¯t even call him. It was a miracle Viktor Vector searched for gigs through the NCPD HuscleNet, allowing us to finally reach you, Mr. Martinez.¡±

    ¡°Okay... I think I got most of that,¡± I said slowly, trying to sound confident¡ªthough it probably didn¡¯t land. ¡°But why all the secrecy? Couldn¡¯t we just¡ª¡±

    ¡°Have this conversation at a food stand and get hunted by every corpo and merc listening in?¡± Jessy interrupted, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Yeah, that sounds smart.¡±

    ¡°But why my clinic?¡± Doc finally spoke up, looking annoyed.

    We all stared at him.

    Who the hell would choose a guy who spends half his day watching sex BDs as a meeting point?

    ¡°Given the... opportunistic nature of your clinic, the government deemed it a discreet enough location for our temporary headquarters,¡± the Black Ops agent said, barely masking his disdain.

    ¡°Right,¡± Anderson leaned against the wall. ¡°But what do we call you? ¡®Gov Agent¡¯ doesn¡¯t exactly roll off the tongue. And we¡¯re gonna need codenames if we want to keep our identities hidden in the field.¡±

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t care. I want my eddies,¡± Jessy muttered, popping another piece of gum. ¡°And what¡¯s this David gonk even good for? He doesn¡¯t build, and he doesn¡¯t hack.¡±

    ¡°I am still here, y''know¡­¡± I muttered. These people really be talking about others like they aren''t there, huh?

    ¡°You can just call me Mr. Seven,¡± the agent finally said, offering his codename. ¡°As for David, he might not have the same technical skills as the rest of you, but his ability to disappear off the grid makes him the ideal infiltration and exfiltration operative.¡±

    ¡°That is, if his skills are up to par,¡± Jessy added with a skeptical glance. ¡°But I¡¯ll admit, that¡¯s a decent... skill. Yeah, let¡¯s call it that.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Seven. Can we get to the point now?¡± Anderson asked. Despite his gruff tone, he radiated a calm demeanor.

    ¡°Of course. Just to wrap things up¡ªDoc here will handle any injuries you operatives sustain during missions.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t agree to¡ª¡± Doc started, but Seven cut him off smoothly.

    ¡°Yes, you¡¯ll be paid significantly for your services,¡± he added with a knowing look.

    That shut Doc up fast.

    ¡°For Task Force Neuron¡¯s first assignment, the objective is simple¡ªbut, as with most things in Night City, it comes with significant risk,¡± Seven began, switching into corpo mode as he pressed a button. A holographic map of the city flickered to life. ¡°The target is Mordin Schmidt, German, late 30s. He¡¯s connected to several high-profile criminals operating in the city. Our job isn¡¯t to capture or kill him, but to force him out of his home.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Anderson immediately asked. ¡°Ain¡¯t we supposed to be supporting a major op? Or is this the op?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and yes,¡± Seven confirmed. ¡°Getting Mordin to relocate will directly support the main squad¡¯s mission¡ªwhich I won¡¯t be disclosing.¡±

    ¡°And how exactly are we supposed to scare this guy?¡± Jessy asked, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Corpos don¡¯t just pack up and leave unless they¡¯re about to lose serious money.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you come in,¡± Seven said, highlighting several points on the holo-map. ¡°These are his known vehicle depots. High-end rides, rare imports¡ªbig investments. Hitting one will force the others to react. That¡¯s why we need to bug the antennas and retransmitters in these areas¡ªto delay and, more importantly, control their response.¡±

    ¡°So I get to feed them ghost signals,¡± Jessy muttered, a grin forming. ¡°Now that¡¯s more like it.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m guessing I¡¯m the ideal candidate for this part of the job?¡± I asked, already piecing the plan together.

    ¡°Precisely,¡± Seven confirmed, turning to me with a serious expression. ¡°Anderson will provide cover and drive if necessary, but you will handle the devices.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly a Netrunner¡­¡± I started, hesitant.

    ¡°No need to be,¡± Jessy interrupted, tossing me a small, outdated device. ¡°Just plug this into the jacks, and I¡¯ll handle the rest.¡±

    I stared at it.

    ¡°¡­Are these Wi-Fi routers?¡±

    This shit was ancient.

    "Analog tech is hard to trace, and it usually works," Jessy said with a shrug.

    Anderson let out a low chuckle. "Kid, this stuff¡¯s older than all of us combined."

    I couldn¡¯t help but agree. This was seriously outdated.

    "Age of tech aside, we¡¯re on a tight schedule," Seven cut in, his tone sharp enough to snap my attention back to him. "This mission is happening today. A burner vehicle is prepped and ready. Jessy stays here with me while I coordinate from the control room. You two, get moving."

    "Yessir," Anderson said, already making his way to the garage.

    "Uh¡ªyes!" I stammered, still trying to process everything.

    Wait. If this mission was so last-minute, what would¡¯ve happened if I hadn¡¯t agreed? Would they have found someone else? Or was I their only option?

    The world fucking confused me sometimes.

    By the time I reached Doc¡¯s garage, Anderson was already behind the wheel of a Mackinaw MTL1¡ªan economy-tier truck, nothing fancy, but perfect for blending in. The kind of vehicle used by just about anyone working a legal job in Night City. Which made it ideal for this job.

    Nova.

    I climbed into the passenger seat, and Anderson eased the truck into traffic, following the flow like we were just another set of nobodies.

    Then my pocket buzzed.

    Wait¡ªwhen the hell did I get a phone? The only time anyone had been close enough to plant something on me was when Seven¡ª

    Oh.

    "This is Seven. Do you copy?"

    Anderson answered first. "Yup, we¡¯re here."

    "Good. Jessy will ping the nearest depot locations," Seven said. We could hear the rapid clatter of a keyboard over the call. "Alright, according to my intel, we''ve got a decent time window to work with¡ªten minutes, give or take."

    "And where exactly are these antennas?" I asked, grabbing a gym bag to stash the routers before tossing it into the glovebox. "If we¡¯re on a clock, I gotta move fast."

    Jessy hummed over comms. "Hmm¡­ from the depot footage, looks like the antennas are inside the buildings. But the retransmitters? Those have access points outside. Just get me a jack-in point. Sending you the coordinates now."

    "Got it." Anderson pressed down on the accelerator, picking up speed.

    A few blocks later, we spotted the first depot. One of the garage doors was open, giving us a peek inside. High-end vehicles, no doubt. I caught a glimpse of a Mizutani¡ªor maybe a Quadra¡ªboth solid sports cars.

    The antenna was mounted on the rooftop. I waited for Anderson to park, then slipped out, heading straight for the back alley. The plan was simple: scale my way up without drawing attention.

    I watched, waited¡ªthen moved. The moment one of the staff turned away, I sprinted to a stack of crates, using them as a boost to leap up. My hands latched onto the ledge, and with a quick pull, I scrambled onto the emergency ladder. One smooth climb later, I was on the roof without a single noise.

    Cameras weren¡¯t a concern¡ªSeven said I wasn¡¯t showing up on feeds, so I moved freely.

    The antenna was standard, some basic radio relay pumping data into cyberspace. I dropped to a knee, pulling out a router, and searched for a compatible jack.

    Nothing.

    Not even a port for my personal cord.

    "Shit."

    ¡°What?¡±, Jessy asked.

    ¡°No jacks here. Not even standard ports.¡±

    Jessy let out an annoyed sigh. "Figures. These are corpo-grade antennas, so they¡¯re probably using wireless signal encryption instead of direct wiring. Hold on¡­" There was more typing. "Okay, change of plans¡ªlook for a maintenance panel. Should be somewhere near the base of the antenna. If you can open that up, you might be able to install the router manually."

    "Got it." I shifted my search, scanning the base of the antenna. Sure enough, there was a small, locked panel on the side. Looked like it needed a security key¡ªsomething I definitely didn¡¯t have.

    "Alright¡­ let¡¯s do this the hard way." I reached into my bag and pulled out a small pry tool. Wedging it into the panel¡¯s seam, I twisted hard until I heard the lock snap.

    The panel creaked open, revealing a mess of tangled cables and a circuit board. I grabbed one of the routers and studied the connections. The ports were old¡ªJessy wasn¡¯t kidding about using ancient tech¡ªbut there was an adapter inside the bag. I connected it, powered up the router, and waited.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    "Jessy, you should be getting a signal now," I said.

    A pause. Then, "Hell yeah, I see it. Good job, kid. Gimme a sec to patch into their system¡­ and¡­ done. I¡¯m rerouting their alerts into a loop. Any security pings from this location will just cycle back as false positives."

    "Preem." I secured the panel back into place, making sure it didn¡¯t look tampered with.

    "Alright, one down, two to go," Anderson said over comms. "Get back down before someone spots you."

    I took a deep breath, then retraced my path, dropping down the ladder and slipping back into the alley. A few moments later, I was back in the truck.

    "Next location?" I asked.

    "Sending it now," Seven responded. "And pick up the pace¡ªwe might not have as much time as we thought."

    Anderson shifted gears, accelerating as we merged back into traffic. "What do you mean?"

    "Mordin''s heading to a meeting," Seven explained. "Before that, he¡¯ll be checking his depots¡ªhis stored cars are part of the deal. If we don¡¯t move fast, the main squad won¡¯t have the window they need to pull off their mission."

    "Where exactly is this main op happening?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything. After all, we were just hitting signal points¡ªwhat was the bigger picture here? Data extraction? Disrupting comms to block reinforcements? Some kind of digital gatekeeping? There were too many possibilities, but I wasn¡¯t seeing the full scope.

    "That¡¯s not something you need to worry about, Mr. Martinez," Seven replied, his tone calm but firm. "You do the job, you get paid. Simple as that. As far as anyone knows, you were never there."

    "Alright, alright. I get it. No means no." I sighed. "Next stop is...?"

    "Here." Jessy sent the location. "This one''s near the harbor. Try not to take a swim."

    Anderson didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He hit the gas, barely acknowledging the red lights as we weaved through the city. The sun was dipping below the skyline¡ªby the time we finished, it¡¯d be full dark. Anderson cut corners, squeezing the Mackinaw through spaces that it definitely shouldn''t fit in, but somehow did. The depot at the harbor finally came into view, and we slowed down to avoid drawing attention.

    I spotted the radio tower¡ªperched right on top of a stack of shipping containers.

    "How the hell are you gonna climb that?" Anderson muttered, already annoyed.

    "I know a way."

    The words left my mouth before I even thought about it.

    At this point, I was just rolling with it.

    I hopped out and jogged toward the entrance. A security checkpoint guarded the main gate, but the surrounding fence had no barbed wire¡ªeasy enough to vault over. The other side, though, was a metal surface¡ªprobably an access hatch for maintenance or tool storage. I could climb, sure, but another, even dumber idea crossed my mind.

    "Can¡¯t I just jump over this?"

    I took a few steps back, testing my footing with a couple of small hops. Then, I pushed off with everything I had.

    And immediately regretted it.

    Because I didn¡¯t just jump.

    I skyrocketed.

    "Whoa, whoa, no no no nonononono!"

    I went so high I overshot the containers entirely, landing¡ªsomehow upright¡ªon top of one of those massive cargo lifters. I blinked a few times, making sure I was still, y''know, alive. Then I looked down.

    The transmitter was below me.

    "Fuck me," I muttered, spitting onto the metal surface.

    "David, how the fuck did you just do that?" Anderson''s voice crackled through the comms, equal parts surprise and disbelief.

    "I have no idea," I admitted, still piecing it together myself.

    "Well, you better figure it out, because you just left a crater in the pavement."

    Sure enough, some security guards were already investigating the impact zone.

    "Forget subtlety," Seven cut in. "We¡¯re out of time. Whatever you did, do it again and get to the transmitter."

    "Roger!"

    I jumped.

    The fall wasn¡¯t as terrifying as I expected. My landing barely dented the top of the container below¡ªfelt smoother than I ever thought possible, like dropping into a heap of trash back at the Megabuilding.

    Except this time it was a hundred times more preem.

    "I''ll try to delay their search," Jessy said, the rapid clicking of her digital interface filling the comms. "Just connect the router to the antenna, and we should be good to go."

    I unzipped the bag, pulled out a router, and grabbed a Philips screwdriver. Sure enough, the panel was screwed shut, but a few quick turns later, the jacks were exposed. I hooked up the router using the adaptors and tapped a few commands into the terminal. Connection established.

    Then a progress bar popped up.

    "Uh¡­ why is there a progress bar?"

    "A what?" Jessy asked. A beat later, she must''ve seen it herself because she groaned. "Shit. Okay, I get it. It''s a two-step program. Simple design, but tricky to crack at first glance. The routers are doing their job, but you''ll need to bring this one back for me to process the data."

    "What do you mean, ''process the data''?" Seven asked before I could. "We don¡¯t have time for that."

    "That¡¯s not what I meant," Jessy said, unfazed. "Step one scrambles communications and replaces them with false positives. Step two is even better¡ªit forces the next depot''s footage to loop, meaning we can move even faster."

    "And where exactly do we need to take this?" Anderson asked, clearly skeptical.

    "That¡¯s the best part¡ªany vending machine," Jessy nearly laughed. "They''re all connected to the cyberspace, so I just need a point of access to grab the data. Unless, of course, there''s a Netrunner on our tail."

    "Fine," Seven relented. "Bring the router back as soon as the download is complete. But move fast¡ªwe might have five minutes before someone catches on."

    "Already done!" I yanked the router free and jumped straight off the building¡ªright onto the highway.

    The landing wasn''t nearly as smooth as before.

    I crashed straight into a trash bin.

    Anyway¡ª!

    The Mackinaw skidded into view, and Anderson floored it toward the last transmitter. Lucky for us, plenty of vending machines were on the way.

    The last transmitter was in a spot I never would''ve expected for a high-end car depot¡ªespecially since those same cars were all over this area. But apparently, City Center had its own corporate schemes running under the radar. I should''ve figured as much. Security here was even tighter than in Watson, which said a lot.

    At least our Mackinaw still blended in, thanks to the express delivery routes cutting through the district. No one gave us a second glance. The depot, however, was inside a commercial building packed with different businesses, which meant I¡¯d have to sneak around to find the antenna. Anderson parked outside and gave me a nod. I nodded back and slipped out, already trying to figure out the best place to start looking.

    "I think you should¡­ just go to the¡­ office floors¡­ yeah," Jessy said slowly. "A lot of data work happens there¡ªsoftware debugging, paperwork, you name it. If there''s a transmitter, that¡¯s where it''ll be."

    "But isn¡¯t this a car depot?" I muttered, doing my best to blend in as just another potential customer.

    Not hard, considering the outfit Vomi gave me. I looked like a tourist wandering through the city, eyes wide at the tech on display.

    "The documentation for those cars is just as important as the cars themselves," Seven said, his tone unreadable. "Especially when many of their previous owners have¡­ gone missing."

    A nice euphemism for something I didn¡¯t need spelled out.

    "Document forgery is more common than I care to admit," Seven continued. "Or reveal. Unless you want to find yourself part of the penitentiary system."

    "I''m good," I said immediately.

    "Pass," Anderson added.

    "Hard pass," Jessy chimed in.

    "Glad we¡¯re all on the same page." Seven didn¡¯t miss a beat. "This depot is disguised as a dealership¡ªall the cars inside are supposedly ''sold.'' The real business is in the paperwork. I suggest you check their records while you''re up there."

    "Preem," I muttered, casually glancing at a few guys in slick gangster suits so it wouldn¡¯t look like I was talking to myself.

    Sure, agents existed, but no need to draw unnecessary attention.

    "Now pick up the pace¡ªwe don¡¯t have all day."

    I kept moving, keeping my head down and my steps casual. Eventually, I spotted the section of the building where the so-called depot was. Now I just needed a way up. A quick glance to the side, and there it was¡ªa service ladder. Problem was, there were a few people lingering nearby. I needed a distraction.

    Scanning my surroundings, I found two options:

    One¡ªA guy was selling BDs right in the middle of the hall. If I stirred up a scene, I could pin the blame on him, drawing attention away from me. Downside? People might remember my face.

    Two¡ªI could use my tools to short-circuit some of the advertising panels. The flickering lights and glitching displays would definitely turn heads. It¡¯d keep me invisible, but it would take time¡ªtime we didn¡¯t have.

    I made my decision.

    "Jessy, can you make the ad screens bug out?"

    "For what?" she asked, and I could hear the faint hum of camera feeds in the background¡ªshe was already checking my position.

    "There¡¯s a service ladder here that¡¯ll take me straight to the office floors. If you can make the screens glitch, I can slip through unnoticed," I explained, glancing at the BD seller again. "Or I do my own thing and risk someone remembering me."

    "Let me see¡­" She started typing. "Yeah, I can, but they might be able to trace it back. Unless¡­"

    "What if you use an intermediate? Like that loop thing?" Anderson suggested over comms. "That way your signal keeps bouncing, and they can¡¯t pinpoint you."

    "Nice idea, but not only is that not how it works, I also don¡¯t know how to do that specifically," Jessy admitted, sounding annoyed at herself. "But I can work around it another way."

    "So what do I do?" I asked, watching a couple walk past, laughing about something.

    "Find me a terminal. Even an ETM will work," she said.

    I almost choked. "A what?"

    "An old terminal for paper eddies," she said, exasperated. "They¡¯re still connected to the net, but barely anyone uses them."

    I sighed. "I have no idea what one even looks like."

    "Just send him a damn image," Seven cut in, clearly tired of the back and forth.

    "Alright, fine." Jessy sent the image, and I frowned the second I saw it.

    The thing looked ancient. A metal keyboard, a touchscreen that barely qualified as a screen¡ªit was practically a relic. But, lucky me, it only took two seconds to find one. I got close, plugged the router in, and¡ªwho would''ve thought?¡ªfor once, I didn¡¯t even need an adapter.

    The device did its thing, and we were in.

    "The screens should be glitching right about now."

    Sure enough, the nearest ad display flickered, distorted into a mess of datamosh, and then threw up a Sorry for the malfunction message. That alone didn¡¯t turn many heads¡ªbut the audio did. A high-pitched, glitched-out mess blasted through the hall, an electronic screech so bad it made my teeth hurt. Everyone winced, covering their ears, giving me the perfect opening.

    I yanked out the router, sprinted to the service ladder, and climbed as fast as I could. At the top, I found a door¡ªan old-school one with a physical lock instead of an electronic one.

    Easy.

    I pulled out my tools and got to work. My hands moved on instinct, like I¡¯d done this a hundred times before¡ªexcept I hadn¡¯t. Still, I somehow knew exactly which tools to use, how to angle them, and how many pins this lock had. A few quick turns, a soft click, and the door swung open. No noise, no fuss.

    Stepping inside, I was hit by a blast of cold air. The Corporate AC Special. White walls, spotless floors, rows of cubicles¡ªan office space straight out of a corpo catalog. The place was packed, employees either glued to their screens or casually chatting with coworkers.

    No way I could sneak through a space this open.

    So I didn¡¯t.

    I kept my pace steady, my posture relaxed, and acted like I belonged. Walking with purpose was half the battle.

    As I moved, I let my ears do the work, listening in on the conversations floating around the room.

    Most of the chatter was typical corpo nonsense¡ªdeadlines, workflow complaints, someone whining about their boss breathing down their neck.

    But one conversation caught my attention.

    ¡°...They¡¯re pushing the paperwork through today. Once it¡¯s done, the old IDs won¡¯t mean shit. New names, new histories, all clean.¡±

    ¡°About time. You know how much they¡¯re paying for this batch?¡±

    ¡°Enough to make it worth the risk.¡±

    Fake identities. Corporate-level forgery. That explained why this ¡°car depot¡± needed an office floor. They weren¡¯t just moving vehicles¡ªthey were erasing and rewriting ownership records.

    I kept moving, blending in as I scanned the room. If the transmitter was here, it had to be somewhere central. Jessy had mentioned debugging stations earlier, and those were usually tucked away in quieter corners.

    I spotted a door at the far end of the room, marked Server Maintenance. That was my best bet. Problem was, a pair of suits were standing right outside, deep in conversation.

    I muttered under my breath, ¡°Jessy, any chance you can pull another trick? I need those guys gone.¡±

    A pause. Then, ¡°Maybe. There¡¯s a coffee machine near them. I can overheat it, make it spill all over the place.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll do.¡±

    A few keystrokes later, the machine whirred violently, then let out an aggressive hiss before spewing steaming coffee all over the counter. One of the suits cursed as hot liquid splashed onto his sleeve.

    ¡°Shit! That thing almost burned me.¡±

    The other guy sighed. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get a cleaner before someone else starts whining.¡±

    They walked off, leaving the door unguarded.

    I slipped inside.

    ¡°I have to admit, this is the smoothest a third party assistant has ever done a support mission.¡±, Seven commented over, genuinely impressed, ¡°But don''t stop now, get the transmitter.¡±

    The server room was like any other server room in the history of server rooms, giant boxes of tech connected to wired and many lights that had some purpose that I didn''t know right now. I pick up the router and connect to the first terminal I see, only for the access to be denied at first.

    ¡°Black-ICE.¡±, Jessy said, ¡°I''ll take a while to do this undetected, so just protect the router.¡±

    ¡°Nova.¡±

    The server room hummed around me, its cold air clashing with the heat rising under my skin. I took a quick glance at the door¡ªstill closed. But outside, I could hear the muffled voices of the two suits.

    One of them sounded pissed.

    ¡°The hell do you mean ¡®nothing on the cams¡¯? There was a goddamn malfunction, but no cause? No one on record?¡±

    The other guy¡¯s voice was sharper, mechanical¡ªhis optics glowing gold. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying. There¡¯s a blind spot. We have an intruder.¡±

    Shit.

    Seven¡¯s voice came through my earpiece, calm but urgent. ¡°Hurry it up, Jessy. The guards are catching on.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t exactly code faster,¡± Jessy snapped back. ¡°They reported the coffee machine mess, but since the cameras aren¡¯t showing anything out of the ordinary, they know something¡¯s off.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± I muttered, already reaching for my Lexington.

    I pulled off my shirt, tying it around my lower face like a mask. My hair, still growing too fast from whatever the hell was in my bloodstream, helped cover the rest. At least I wouldn¡¯t be easy to ID.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the car ready,¡± Anderson reassured me. ¡°Just in case you need an extraction.¡±

    The gold-eyed suit outside suddenly stiffened. ¡°Check the server room? Yes, sir.¡±

    Double shit.

    I couldn¡¯t afford to shoot him¡ªnot yet. Too loud. And I couldn¡¯t unplug the router before the upload was done. But leaving it there, fully exposed, wasn¡¯t an option either.

    I had no idea what to do.

    The door creaked open. My hand tightened around my gun¡ª

    Then my instincts took over.

    Before I even processed what was happening, I jumped.

    My body snapped to the ceiling, hands and feet sticking to the surface like I¡¯d been glued there. My breath hitched. My eyes went wide.

    Since when could I do this?!

    The suit stepped in, scanning the room. His gold optics flickered as he swept the space, but his gaze never drifted up.

    Holy shit.

    I could feel my feet sticking through my shoes, my palms fused to the cold metal ceiling. Was this the pathogen? What else could I do? Was I about to start spitting acid or growing extra limbs?

    Focus. Focus.

    The suit turned, moving deeper into the room. I let go, landing soundlessly behind him.

    Before he could react, my arm wrapped around his neck, squeezing tight.

    SNAP.

    ¡­Oh.

    I think I just broke his neck.

    Well. That works too.

    ¡°All transmitters have been tampered with,¡± Jessy confirmed, her voice pressing urgency into my ears. ¡°Get out of there. Now.¡±

    The other guard was still outside. I let the corpse in my grasp drop with a thud, loud enough to pull his attention. No need for subtlety anymore. As soon as the door cracked open, I raised my Lexington and put a round through his face. Blood splattered across the pristine white walls, and I shoved his lifeless body aside as I sprinted past.

    The civilians barely reacted¡ªsome flinched, some gasped, but no one moved to play hero. I retraced my steps, reached the door I¡¯d unlocked earlier, and dropped down to the ground floor in a single leap. A small crack splintered beneath my feet, but I didn¡¯t stop running until the Mackinaw came into view.

    ¡°Drive! Drive! Drive!¡± I shouted, barely slamming the door shut before Anderson gunned it.

    The truck wasn¡¯t built for speed, but it had torque. It lurched forward with force, reaching its top speed faster than any low-budget car on the street.

    ¡°Well, exfiltration could¡¯ve been smoother,¡± Seven snorted. ¡°But we got the job done. Sending you coordinates now¡ªditch the Mackinaw and switch rides. And make sure you torch it. Can¡¯t leave a trail.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll slow their reinforcements¡ªmess with traffic lights, reroute their data. But if the NCPD gets too close, I¡¯m out,¡± Jessy added, her voice steady but clear on her priorities.

    I barely heard them.

    Not because I was panicking. Not because I was hyped on adrenaline. Not even because I was thinking about how I just snapped a guy¡¯s neck like it was nothing.

    I just sat there, calm, staring ahead as Anderson drove toward the next vehicle.

    All I could think was¡ª

    Gig completed.

    The ride was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between us. Anderson didn''t say much¡ªjust focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel. Seven and Jessy were still talking in my ear, but their words faded into the background. My mind kept circling back. Not to the gunshots. Not to the bodies.

    To me.

    To the way I clung to the ceiling like it was natural. To the way I moved without hesitation, without training, as if my body knew things I didn¡¯t.

    To the way I snapped that guy¡¯s neck with no more effort than cracking my knuckles.

    I clenched my hands, flexed my fingers. They felt the same. Normal. But they weren¡¯t.

    And I still didn¡¯t know what else had changed.

    "Kid." Anderson''s voice cut in, breaking the spiral of thoughts. "We¡¯re here."

    I looked up. An abandoned lot, empty except for a nondescript sedan parked in the corner. Perfect for a clean getaway.

    Seven¡¯s voice crackled in. ¡°Torch the Mackinaw, switch cars, and disappear. Standard procedure.¡±

    Anderson and I got out without a word. I pulled a small canister from my bag, popped the cap, and poured accelerant over the seats and dashboard. The smell of CHOOH2 hit my nose, sharp and bitter.

    Anderson tossed me a lighter. I flicked it open, watched the flame dance for a second, then dropped it onto the soaked interior.

    Whoosh.

    Fire swallowed the truck instantly, licking up the sides, smoke curling into the night sky. The heat pressed against my face, but I didn¡¯t move. I just stared into the flames, watching the last evidence of our gig burn away.

    Then, finally, I turned, got in the new car, and shut the door.

    Anderson started the engine. ¡°You good?¡±

    I exhaled slowly. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    But that was a lie.

    Because I had no idea what I was anymore.

 Chapter 46: Change

    Overall, David was satisfied with how things had played out¡ªaside from the nagging questions in his head. Anderson drove back to Doc¡¯s clinic in silence, while the comms buzzed with easygoing chatter. Each of them had just earned 20k eddies, pre-taxed, meaning as far as the law was concerned, it was a legitimate transaction. Of course, what actually went down tonight would stay off the books.

    When they arrived, the car was stashed away as the next burner vehicle, and they settled in for a meal, indulging in casual conversation. But David was elsewhere, lost in his own head.

    ¡°...Gotta admit, you did well, D-D boy.¡± Jessy pointed her chopsticks at him, smirking. ¡°For someone who wasn''t used to analog shit, you handled those problems real smooth.¡±

    ¡°And let¡¯s not forget that insane jump,¡± Anderson added. ¡°Your legs must cost a fucking fortune for that kinda mobility.¡±

    David took a sip of his non-carbonated soda. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±

    ¡°I do find it interesting that the moment you left me, you somehow got all these top-grade implants,¡± Doc grumbled, arms crossed. ¡°Davey, you ever hear about loyalty?¡±

    ¡°I hear about decent pay,¡± David shot back. ¡°Far as I know, Seven¡¯s the one paying me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m flattered,¡± Seven said with a smirk, clearly entertained now that the job was over.

    ¡°Ah, fuck you.¡± Doc took a swig of his beer. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even know these ops if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, whatever shall I do¡­¡± David deadpanned, the sarcasm dripping off his words. The whole table burst into laughter.

    ¡°You¡¯re not in charge anymore, old man!¡± Jessy teased between laughs.

    ¡°Y¡¯all are a bunch of assholes,¡± Doc grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m going back to my BDs¡ª¡± He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, eyes locking onto the door. His expression twisted into confusion and alarm. ¡°Wait¡­ who the fuck¡ª?¡±

    The others turned as well. Since the clinic operated as a semi-legit business, they kept the doors open to civilians to maintain appearances¡ªan added security measure. Still, no one was expecting this.

    Anderson reached for his pistol.

    Seven nearly choked on his meal.

    Jessy¡¯s fingers twitched, ready to deploy a quickhack.

    David just sighed. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s you.¡±

    Everyone turned to him, confused, then back to the entrance.

    A large, sleek panther stood in the doorway, yawning and stretching like a house cat.

    ¡°What?¡± Jessy blinked, looking between David and the feline. ¡°Is that a¡ªwhat the fuck is that?!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a panther¡­¡± Anderson muttered. ¡°How the hell is one still alive?¡±

    ¡°Forget that!¡± Doc practically jumped out of his seat. ¡°Ain¡¯t that thing gonna attack us?!¡±

    David casually reached out and scratched the panther¡¯s chin. The massive feline leaned into the touch, eyes half-lidded in satisfaction.

    ¡°Vomi wondering where I am?¡± David asked.

    The panther gave a slow nod.

    ¡°Figures.¡±

    ¡°DAVID!¡± Jessy practically screeched, making everyone wince and cover their ears. ¡°EXPLAIN!¡±

    Seven, the only one who seemed unfazed, simply leaned forward. ¡°Mr. Martinez, I too would appreciate some clarification.¡±

    David took another sip of his drink. ¡°This is Panther. He¡¯s¡­ the mascot? Pet? Honestly, I dunno, but he belongs to my Ripperdoc. He swings by every now and then to fetch me.¡±

    ¡°An actual ganic living animal?¡± Jessy asked, slowly inching closer. ¡°How is it not, y¡¯know¡­ riddled with diseases?¡±

    David shrugged. ¡°Vomi¡¯s secret.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t reassure me.¡±

    Jessy hesitated, then glanced at David. ¡°Can I pet him?¡±

    David nodded. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Panther didn¡¯t even flinch as Jessy reached out, letting her run a cautious hand through his sleek fur. After a few moments, the hesitation melted away. The big cat simply closed his eyes, enjoying the attention¡ªeven if it was just out of curiosity.

    "So fluffy¡­" Jessy whispered, running her fingers through Panther¡¯s fur. "Touch the fluffy kitty¡­"

    ¡°Is she¡­ hypnotized?¡± Anderson asked, raising a brow.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s in love,¡± Doc muttered, watching the scene unfold.

    ¡°Women,¡± Seven said, taking the last sip of his beer.

    ¡°Women,¡± Anderson agreed.

    ¡°Women,¡± Doc echoed.

    David shook his head and stood up, tossing his empty soda can into the trash. "Anyway, I gotta go. Mom¡¯s probably worried about me too."

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Jessy snapped out of her trance, looking at him with a bit more sympathy. ¡°Wish her a smooth recovery.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± David turned to Panther. ¡°We going?¡±

    The panther stretched once more before striding toward the door, tail flicking. David followed without another word, leaving the others sitting in stunned silence.

    A panther¡ªa species thought to be extinct¡ªhad just walked through the front door, acted like a trained dog, and left without causing a scene. Now that they had a moment to think about it, none of it made a damn bit of sense.

    ¡°¡­Are we gonna talk about that, or¡ª¡± Doc gestured toward the door.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s best if we just accept it and never talk about it,¡± Anderson said, adjusting his hat. ¡°Besides, we¡¯ve seen weirder shit.¡±

    "So fluffy¡­" Jessy mumbled under her breath, still mesmerized.

    Anderson sighed. ¡°See what I mean?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m heading out too,¡± Seven added, pushing his chair back. ¡°This late at night, my sector¡¯s probably wondering what happened to me.¡±

    <hr>

    David Martinez

    And then I glued myself to the ceiling.

    What else can I do? That question keeps running through my head, right alongside what exactly am I? My capabilities are evolving¡ªfaster than I ever expected. It terrifies me. It excites me. But the further I push myself, the less human I feel. At what point does the line between David and whatever I¡¯m becoming blur beyond recognition? Or disappear entirely?

    I need to find that answer. Soon.

    The bus ride was quiet, barely a handful of passengers this late at night. No one gave a fuck about a guy with a panther sitting beside him. Watson had practically become my home now¡ªthe neon reds of Kabuki greeting me with their usual indifference, yet somehow also welcoming me back. It¡¯s a contradiction, but that¡¯s how it feels.

    When I spot Misty and Jackie outside the Esoterica, I raise a hand. "Sup, chooms."

    ¡°David, hermano!¡± Jackie grins, arms wide like he''s ready for a bear hug. ¡°They finally discharged you, or what?¡±

    ¡°I think so. Vomi didn¡¯t try to stop me from leaving today.¡± I scratch Panther¡¯s chin, earning a slow blink from him. ¡°Any luck today, Misty?¡±

    ¡°Actually, yes!¡± She nearly jumps with excitement. ¡°Had a few customers¡ªgave some readings, did a couple of rituals, even shared some encouraging words. And they accepted! For once, I can say the Esoterica actually made some eddies!¡±

    ¡°We been talkin¡¯ about this for hours now,¡± Jackie says with a smirk. ¡°Maybe we should celebrate with a spiritual hike?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Spiritual? In Night City? I don¡¯t think this place has a more spiritual spot than here.¡±

    ¡°See?¡± Misty shoots Jackie a knowing look. ¡°Even he gets it.¡±

    ¡°Now, now, chica, I know that ain''t true,¡± Jackie says, already gearing up for a counterargument. ¡°I can prove it¡ª¡±

    I let them keep at it. No way in hell am I stepping into a couple¡¯s debate.

    When I step inside our living room, Lev is elbow-deep in an engine he hauled in last week. Mom¡¯s on the couch, eating¡­

    ¡°Do you ever get tired of noodles?¡± I ask, eyeing the cup in her hand.

    ¡°No.¡± She slurps down another mouthful, totally unbothered. ¡°I love them.¡±

    I glance at the TV. ¡°What¡¯re you watching?¡±

    Panther jumps onto her lap, and she barely reacts¡ªjust lifts her arms so he can get comfortable. Smooth, practiced movements, like she already knew he¡¯d do it.

    "Kabuki Klassics," she replies between bites. "Live performances, bands playing styles from before the DataKrash."

    I listen for a moment, frowning. ¡°Is that¡­ jazz?¡±

    ¡°Electro Swing,¡± she corrects, scratching Panther behind the ears. ¡°A slightly less old style.¡±

    I nod along with the beat. ¡°Sounds good, though.¡±

    ¡°Kapitan wants to see you.¡± Lev¡¯s voice comes from the other side of the room. ¡°She¡¯s at her office. Says she¡¯ll officially discharge you¡ªif you do a few things first.¡±

    ¡°Preem.¡± I turn my attention to the engine he¡¯s tweaking. ¡°What¡¯s that about?¡±

    "Kapitan wants to open a workshop¡ªcustom cars, built to client specs." He grabs a few tools. ¡°But to get started, we need parts¡ªengines, brakes, gearboxes. Gotta scrap old vehicles, salvage what we can. It¡¯s a long-term side project. Something to do when we don¡¯t have gigs lined up.¡±

    ¡°And how¡¯s this one coming along?¡±

    Lev sighs. ¡°I underestimated Mizutani¡¯s engineering. This is way more complicated than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± I say, leaving the Russian to it.

    "Dee," Mom said, still watching the TV. "I''m still waiting for your apology."

    I frowned but said nothing. Instead, I just walked away.

    Vomi was in her office, running tests on some chems and checking their progress on the terminal. Probably some drug or medicine they prescribe to their customers¡ªnot that I had any idea. As I shut the door behind me, her head lifted, eyes flicking toward me. I gave her a nod. She nodded back. That was all.

    I waited while she finished up, jotting down notes in a notebook before moving to another terminal. A few taps later, she printed out a sheet¡ªnot quite paper, but close enough. She handed it to me along with a pen.

    I had to admit, Vomi¡¯s habit of using physical documents instead of virtual messages was¡­ oddly reassuring.

    "Here. Sign these," she said, pointing at the spots I needed to fill in. "After that, you can officially go back to your apartment."

    I started signing, glancing up. "Lev said you had some things you needed me to do first?"

    "Yes. But consider it more of a favor than an obligation." She handed me another sheet.

    I scanned it. "A contract? You want to hire me?"

    "As a half-intern." She made a vague gesture with her hand. "Working under a licensed Ripperdoc has its benefits¡ªeven if you don¡¯t do exactly what we do."

    I considered it. A real job. Something I could use. Wouldn''t be bad¡ªif I weren¡¯t already making my own plans. The secret ops gig wasn¡¯t exactly what I¡¯d originally envisioned, but I could see the advantages. Hell, it even made me consider joining the law for a second.

    But that wouldn¡¯t make me a legend.

    And that¡¯s what I wanted¡ªto be known, remembered. To carve my name into history like the few who ever really mattered. To fulfill something bigger than myself. Lucy had her dream of reaching the moon¡ªsomething real, something she could touch.

    Why couldn¡¯t I have that too?

    Then again, this could be temporary. But Vomi wasn¡¯t the type to make random offers, and she sure as hell wasn¡¯t the type to let me walk into a gig without asking what kind of gig it was. She just allowed it this time because I was in a hurry and she already did all of my checkups.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Something didn¡¯t add up.

    I lowered the contract, meeting her gaze. "This offer didn¡¯t come from you."

    A pause.

    "It came from my mom, didn¡¯t it?"

    She didn¡¯t blink. Didn¡¯t flinch. Didn¡¯t move. Her hollow eyes locked onto mine, silent yet saying everything I already knew.

    Then, finally, she raised a brow. "Gloria spoke to me. Asked me to hire you for something¡ªanything, as long as it was legal. She doesn¡¯t want you to follow the same fate as every other young gonk who thinks they can rule the world."

    "And you agree with her," I muttered, glancing down at the contract again. "I get it. I want to make her proud. But I can¡¯t just¡ª" I exhaled sharply. "I just can¡¯t. I won¡¯t hide under someone else¡¯s wing."

    Vomi¡¯s voice remained as unreadable as her expression. "You are a visionary. No¡ªambitious. But you¡¯re conflicted. You don¡¯t know what you want, yet you act. You can¡¯t have one without sacrificing the other."

    I shook my head. "Enough about me." Stepping closer, I jabbed a finger at my chest. "I want to know about this."

    Hell, I gestured at myself entirely.

    "What am I? What the hell is this pathogen you gave me? Who are you?" The questions spilled out, each sharper than the last. "Because the more I do things I¡¯ve never done before¡ªbut perfectly on the first try¡ª" I clenched my fists. "The more I stop caring about the people I kill. The more I keep excelling at everything, the less I feel like me."

    I held her gaze, unflinching.

    "Am I human, Vomi?"

    Vomi didn¡¯t answer right away. She just stood there, still as a corpse, staring at me with those unreadable hollow eyes. I almost thought she wouldn¡¯t say anything at all.

    Then, slowly, she spoke. "Does it matter?"

    I felt something tighten in my chest. "Of course, it fucking matters!" My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn¡¯t care. "I need to know what¡¯s happening to me!"

    She tilted her head slightly, considering me. "You say you want to know, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s entirely true. You already suspect the answer, don¡¯t you? And you don¡¯t like it."

    I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but nothing came out.

    Because she was right.

    I knew it. I had felt it ever since I woke up after the crash. The way my body moved, the way my mind processed things differently, the way I changed¡ªit wasn¡¯t normal. It wasn¡¯t human.

    And I had tried, so hard, to ignore that fact.

    Vomi leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "So tell me, David: do you want confirmation? Or do you want reassurance?"

    I clenched my jaw. "I want the truth."

    Her expression didn¡¯t change. "Then you¡¯re asking the wrong question."

    My fists tightened. "Stop playing word games with me, Vomi!"

    "I¡¯m not." Her voice remained maddeningly calm. "If you want the truth, ask the right question."

    I stared at her, breathing hard, my mind racing.

    What was the right question?

    The silence stretched between us, heavy, suffocating. And then, finally, the realization hit me.

    I swallowed hard. "What am I becoming?"

    That was when Vomi finally smiled. "Now you¡¯re asking the right question."

    "Then?"

    "Klyntar."

    She said it simply, but there was something in the way she spoke the word¡ªlike it left a bad taste in her mouth. Like she resented even acknowledging it.

    I frowned. "Klyntar?"

    Vomi let out a slow breath, then shook her head. "You got the pathogen¡­ no, fuck that." Her voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through. "I¡¯m done with the stupid euphemisms. You have a symbiote. That¡¯s what it really is."

    I stared at her. "A what?"

    She took off her glasses, rubbing them clean with deliberate care. "How do you think I survived the San Francisco Holocaust?" Her tone was eerily calm. "I was there when the warhead detonated. You saw my memories. You already know the answer."

    She slid her glasses back on, meeting my gaze without a hint of hesitation.

    "You are, in both theoretical and practical terms, the second of my kind."

    I raised my hands. They felt foreign, like they weren¡¯t mine, yet they obeyed my command.

    I looked at Vomi, and something stirred inside me. A flicker of recognition, a distant memory surfacing¡ªnot just awareness, but understanding.

    "The second," I repeated, my voice disturbingly calm. "What does that make me? What does that make you? What does this mean for us?"

    Vomi stood up, pulling out that stupid inhaler again. The TV in the background droned on about a gang shootout, flashing images of a bloodied street.

    "For you, this can still be reversed." She took a sharp inhale, exhaling like it was the only thing keeping her steady. "You¡¯re a hybrid¡ªsomething that can be engineered back to full humanity. For me, that doesn¡¯t mean much, since I can undo what I did anytime."

    She took another hit, deeper this time. Too much, if you asked me.

    "And for us?" She finally looked at me. "That depends on you."

    I narrowed my eyes. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

    She sighed. "It¡¯s better if I show you."

    <hr>

    Vomi turned toward David, her body tense, trembling slightly despite the amount of sedatives she¡¯d already inhaled. Keeping it inside¡ªkeeping it quiet¡ªwas getting harder. Not that she had to worry. It was just her. Just her anger, bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

    She blinked slowly, letting go just a bit of the control she fought so hard to maintain.

    A tendril emerged from her forehead, black and twisting, trembling as if resisting her will. Another slithered from her eyeball, then her arm, her legs, her spine¡ªall sprouting at awkward, unnatural angles. It was grotesque, a horror show that would break most people.

    But David didn¡¯t flinch in fear.

    He just watched, fascinated, like he had already seen this before. And when he finally grimaced, it wasn¡¯t because of her.

    It was because of himself.

    The tendrils pulsed angrily, writhing with restrained aggression. Vomi exhaled slowly, and her skin darkened as the black mass consumed her completely. From scalp to toe, even her clothes were swallowed by the living abyss. The only part not covered was her right arm, the chrome leaking with the black substance like a torn out rope.

    The voice that emerged was the same one that had spoken in San Francisco. Twisted, distorted, wrong.

    "This is who I am."

    She stared at him, eyes glinting beneath the inky black shell.

    "And I hate it."

    The tendrils curled and uncurled behind her, like they were ready to strike, ready to lash out. But at her command, they slithered back, retreating into her body without hesitation.

    "You can still avoid this." Her voice softened, but the weight of her words didn¡¯t. "You can avoid what this omen will turn you into."

    David stared at Vomi, his thoughts pulling in two directions¡ªone part of him wondering why he was so calm, the other realizing he didn¡¯t want to fight it.

    He¡¯d never admit it, not even to himself, but he liked this.

    He liked being different.

    For the first time, he wasn¡¯t just another punk trying to scrape by¡ªhe was unique. A hybrid, a symbiote, whatever the hell Vomi called it. The idea of going back? Of just being David Martinez, a nobody?

    He didn¡¯t want that.

    He wanted more¡ªmore of what the symbiote could offer.

    Just¡­ not yet.

    There were still questions clawing at his mind, questions he couldn¡¯t ignore.

    ¡°So that means I¡¯m not human?¡± He flexed his fingers, staring at his own hands. ¡°Klyntar, you said. Is that why I don¡¯t care when I flatline people?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s symbiote retracted slowly, almost hesitantly, as if it didn¡¯t want to hide.

    ¡°To us, humans are like bugs,¡± she said, her voice matter-of-fact. ¡°Killing them doesn¡¯t mean much. But your mind and body were human for so long that you can¡¯t help but feel¡­ awkward about it.¡±

    ¡°Awkward.¡± David scoffed, finally looking at her. ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re feeling, I felt it too.¡± Vomi¡¯s suit finally receded, leaving her bare-skinned again. She slipped her glasses back on. ¡°It was confusing at first, but I figured it out. Just be glad you can still turn back. I never had that luxury.¡±

    David hesitated, then asked the question that had been gnawing at him since this all started.

    ¡°Does my mom know?¡±

    Vomi turned toward him, expression unreadable as ever.

    ¡°She knows what I am. And what you can become.¡±

    David let out a bitter chuckle. ¡°And she still asked you to do this to me.¡± He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. ¡°Always thinking of others before herself. Has she seen you like that?¡±

    Vomi raised her brows slightly¡ªjust enough for David to get the message.

    What do you think?

    David sighed.

    Vomi tapped the contract on the table. ¡°Point is, this offer is for your mother¡¯s sake more than yours. As far as I know, even a half-Klyntar can survive things no human could.¡±

    She slid the contract toward him.

    ¡°Just sign it. Don¡¯t make this a hassle for either of us.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    David sighed, signing the contract with a flick of his wrist. ¡°What now?¡±

    Vomi didn¡¯t even look up from the chems she was working on. ¡°You¡¯ve got two options. One, go back to your apartment at the Megabuilding and clock in here after the Academy. Two, just move in. You¡¯re basically living here already.¡±, She finally turned, adjusting her gloves. ¡°Plus, you¡¯ll be closer to the Academy here than in Santo Domingo.¡±

    David nodded. ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that. Mom¡ª¡±

    ¡°Before you say anything about Gloria, she¡¯s welcome to stay.¡± Vomi cut him off before he could finish. ¡°And before you do anything else, pay your debts¡ªto the building owner and the Academy.¡±

    David scoffed. ¡°I was gonna do that anyway.¡±

    ¡°And yes,¡± she continued, ¡°we¡¯ll handle getting you a car now that you can drive.¡±

    ¡°All thanks to your symbiote.¡±

    Vomi shot him a look. ¡°I don¡¯t need to tell you this stays secret, right?¡±

    David smirked. ¡°No need. I know when to shut up.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now get lost.¡±

    David left without another word, stepping out into the cool night air. The world around him felt¡­ different.

    Klyntar.

    The word echoed in his mind. The species. The thing now inside him. It was alien and yet¡ªfamiliar. The puzzle finally had its answer, but it still nagged at him. How did the Klyntar mimic human form so perfectly? Could they really suppress their true nature? Did he have armor like Vomi¡¯s? And if she could regenerate her entire body back in San Francisco, why couldn¡¯t she regrow her right arm?

    His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

    ¡°Dee?¡±

    David lifted his gaze.

    His mom.

    Gloria stood there, watching him carefully. ¡°What happened? I heard you screaming in there.¡±

    ¡°I think mini David just got a few explanations.¡± Lev spoke up from his workbench, not even glancing away from the engine he was working on. ¡°Mostly about you, Ms. Gloria.¡±

    David took a slow breath. ¡°Mom.¡±

    She gave him her full attention.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry for what happened last week.¡±

    The words came out smooth. Natural. But they didn¡¯t feel real.

    His apology was hollow. Forced.

    He knew he should mean it, but he didn¡¯t.

    He¡¯d done all of this¡ªfor her. The debts, the risks, the pain, just to help her recover, to make her proud. And yet¡­ she felt as distant as a fly buzzing around his ear.

    He wanted to care.

    He should care.

    But he didn¡¯t.

    Not really.

    Gloria sighed, but smiled. ¡°I get it, mi hijo.¡± She reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. ¡°All you want is my safety. But did you get the offer from Vomi?¡±

    David forced a nod. ¡°Yeah. I signed it. I start as a half-intern tomorrow.¡±

    Gloria¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Good!¡± She pulled him into a tight hug. ¡°That means you don¡¯t have to put yourself in danger until you get your degree.¡±

    David hesitated before returning the hug.

    It felt¡­ foreign.

    David gently pulled away, meeting Gloria¡¯s eyes with a serious look.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the eddies to pay off all our debts¡ªfrom selling the chrome.¡±

    Before she could ask, he added, ¡°I¡¯m covering everything. And we¡¯re moving to here. Permanently.¡±

    Gloria raised a brow, smirking. ¡°Look at you, acting all grown-up. Is Vomi ok with this?¡±

    ¡°Vomi was the one who offered.¡±

    He turned toward the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in an hour.¡±

    ¡°Be safe, Dee.¡±

    David glanced back, forced a smile, then stepped out.

    Bothered by how little it bothered him.

    <hr>

    David Martinez

    I went to the Megabuilding, paid the gonk, and immediately arranged for a truck to move all our stuff to Watson. Panther followed me the whole way, which might¡¯ve had something to do with why the owner didn¡¯t put up a fight when I asked to move out. Preem. Also a little intimidating. The truck would come tomorrow to clear everything out.

    From there, I took a bus straight to the Academy¡ªlate midnight, empty seats, no one around. Good. Gave me space to think.

    Or¡­ not think. Just process.

    What I am. What I can become. What Vomi is.

    It explains everything¡ªwhy my chrome feels like flesh, why no one can hack me, why I¡¯m a blur on every camera feed. I¡¯m fully ganic. No cyberware, yet I use it like I do. Maybe that¡¯s the symbiote at work? How do I connect to things without having them? I can still use shards. My optics work the same. There has to be an explanation.

    More than that, though, I see people differently now. They don¡¯t feel like obstacles, stepping stones, or even limitations to surpass. Not even people. Just¡­ things that exist. Tools doing their jobs. And I feel nothing about it.

    I¡¯m trying. Really trying to care. But I can¡¯t.

    Is this how Vomi feels every day? Then how did she still find herself enough to save Mom and me? She could¡¯ve just left. Let us die. But she didn¡¯t.

    Wait.

    That thought¡ªVomi saved me.

    Me.

    She saved me and gave me this.

    Why does that matter to me more than my own mother¡¯s safety?

    What the fuck is happening to my mind?

    ¡°Final stop, kid.¡±

    The bus driver¡¯s voice yanked me back. He stayed in his seat but glanced at Panther. ¡°Look, I like your cat and all, but you can¡¯t stay on the bus forever.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just checking my messages.¡± A lie. I got up. ¡°Thanks for the ride.¡±

    I said it more out of habit than gratitude.

    The Arasaka Academy never really closes¡ªcorporations never stop working¡ªso I just walked through the front door and headed straight to the principal¡¯s office.

    The man was there, sitting like he owned the place. Hands clasped together, eyes locked on me.

    "Mr. Martinez, welcome. What brings you here so late?"

    "I''m here to pay for the damages I caused to the Academy''s equipment," I said, surprised at how corpo my voice sounded.

    "Good. Just transfer this sum to the Academy¡¯s account."

    A ping. A payment link.

    I paid in full. No installments. No hesitation.

    His surprise was obvious¡ªhe didn¡¯t hide it in time. "That would be all, Mr. Martinez?"

    "No. I¡¯m also here to pick up my new uniform." Hands in my pockets, eyes drifting to Night City¡¯s skyline.

    I used to see it as a land of opportunity. A path to glory. Now¡­ there''s something more to it. I just need to figure out what.

    "Pardon our mistake. The uniform is in the locker room. We¡¯ll provide it immediately."

    Funny. A week ago, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to berate me. Now, just because I can pay upfront, he¡¯s suddenly respectful.

    Not that I care.

    "Meow."

    Or maybe it''s Panther¡¯s presence. Could be either.

    I grabbed my uniform and made my way back to Watson. I needed sleep¡ªnot for rest, but just to shut my mind off for a while.

    Back in my room, I lay down and closed my eyes.

    <hr>

    The next morning, we were all gathered in the clinic¡¯s living room, sipping coffee. And I mean everyone¡ªMom, Vomi, Vik, Lev, Sasha, Panther, and Ciri.

    ¡°¡­And then, when we used the plasma cutter, it still overheated!¡± Lev threw his hands up, exasperated.

    ¡°In fucking Antarctica?¡± I blinked. ¡°How does a frozen plasma cutter overheat?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea, but it happened!¡± Lev chuckled.

    ¡°Plasma cutters work differently than standard ones,¡± Vik chimed in, taking a sip of his coffee. ¡°They accelerate matter at such high speeds that even absolute zero might not stop them. There¡¯s more to it, but that¡¯s the simple version.¡±

    ¡°The Navy might be the only place that still sees snow.¡± Mom muttered, swirling her cup. ¡°I miss when the rain didn''t corrode metal.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that why they made new ligaments and alloys?¡± Sasha pointed out, her cat-styled makeup matching Panther¡¯s fur. ¡°That¡¯s not a problem anymore.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but it¡¯s expensive.¡± Vomi reminded everyone. ¡°The more work put into a product, the higher the price.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s if it isn¡¯t taxed into oblivion first, Kapitan.¡± Lev added wisely.

    Ciri spoke up, offering her own insight. ¡°Blacksmithing was always costly, but when nobles and governments started taxing everything¡ªtrades, transport routes, material extraction, even the tools themselves¡ªit became so expensive that people started using fences.¡±

    Sasha burst out laughing. ¡°Fences? Like the things that keep cattle in place?¡±

    ¡°A handyman,¡± Vik corrected. ¡°Someone who buys stolen goods to resell them, so they don¡¯t get traced.¡±

    ¡°Just like chrome nowadays,¡± I added, the conclusion settling over the group like an unspoken truth.

    Sasha stretched her arms over her head, yawning. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t even get why chrome is still so damn expensive. It¡¯s not like people are mining raw adamantium or whatever.¡±

    ¡°Because corpos need to make a profit.¡± Vomi leaned back on the couch, balancing her cup on her knee. ¡°They don''t just sell chrome; they sell the privilege of using it.¡±

    ¡°Preem way to put it.¡± Lev smirked. ¡°Half of what we buy ain¡¯t even worth half of what we pay, but they still get away with it.¡±

    Vik nodded. ¡°And that¡¯s why ripperdocs exist.¡±

    "Legal ones, yes."

    "Illegal too."

    Mom let out a dry chuckle. ¡°Yeah, and why black market implants are a thing. You¡¯d think a functioning leg wouldn¡¯t be priced higher than a car.¡±

    ¡°Luxury tax.¡± Sasha rolled her eyes. ¡°They price it high to keep it exclusive."

    Panther let out a lazy meow, curling up against my leg. I scratched behind his ear absentmindedly.

    ¡°But isn¡¯t it weird?¡± Ciri mused, stirring her coffee. ¡°How people just¡­ accept it? Like, everyone knows corpos milk them dry, but no one does anything about it.¡±

    Lev shrugged. ¡°What¡¯s anyone gonna do? Riot? We all saw how that went.¡±

    Silence settled over the room for a second. No one really needed to say anything.

    Then Vik clapped his hands together. ¡°Enough of that depressing shit. What¡¯s on today¡¯s agenda?¡±

    Mom sighed. ¡°I have to go back to work. Can¡¯t just disappear forever.¡±

    ¡°Gonna be hard to explain how you¡¯re alive, huh?¡± Sasha smirked.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll figure something out.¡± Mom waved a hand. ¡°What about you, David?¡±

    I exhaled. ¡°Academy.¡±

    Vomi raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re actually going?¡±

    ¡°Gotta get my uniform.¡±

    Lev let out a low whistle. ¡°Damn, look at you. Corpo boy, all cleaned up.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just a uniform.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how it starts.¡± Sasha grinned. ¡°Next thing you know, you¡¯ll be selling stock options and saying let¡¯s touch base.¡±

    ¡°If I ever say touch base, just kill me.¡±

    Vik chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. ¡°Noted.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I need to talk to you, David.¡± Sasha tapped my shoulder.

    The others took the hint and scattered, each finding something else to do. It was just us now, sitting at the table¡ªwell, us and Panther, but he didn¡¯t count.

    ¡°Sure, what¡¯s up?¡±

    She leaned forward, her lynx-paw legs swinging idly beneath the table. ¡°Maine¡¯s got a gig lined up. He thinks you could be useful.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what does that have to do with me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re at the academy.¡± She smirked. ¡°That might come in handy.¡±

 Chapter 47: Down in A Hole

    David Martinez

    Today at the Academy was¡­ weird, to say the least. Maybe it was because of what I realized yesterday, or maybe it was because I was seeing the world differently. Either way, something felt¡­ off.

    Everyone was treating me with respect.

    ¡°Good to see you, David!¡± someone greeted as I stepped onto the Academy grounds.

    ¡°There¡¯s our Santo Domingo choom!¡± another called out, forcing the word choom like his life depended on it.

    ¡°Never doubted this guy for a second,¡± said someone who had obviously doubted me his whole life.

    Even the Holo Teacher was being courteous.

    ¡°Welcome, Mr. Martinez!¡± It sounded almost¡­ excited? That was a first. ¡°Your new uniform fits you quite nicely!¡±

    Now that I had my new uniform, my physique was more defined than ever. Hard to hide muscle under a suit like this. But I doubted that was why everyone was suddenly treating me like royalty.

    Classes went on as usual¡ªnew methods of A and B, reflections on C, ending with D. The same mundane shit, with me getting perfect scores as expected. The real surprise? The other students weren¡¯t bitter about it. Normally, they¡¯d be gritting their teeth every time I outperformed them. Now? They were¡­ supportive.

    It didn¡¯t make sense.

    During lunch, I needed to hear the truth from someone who wouldn''t sugarcoat it¡ªsomeone who didn¡¯t give a fuck about being polite.

    Katsuo.

    ¡°The hell do you want, Martinez?¡± he grumbled, frowning. For once, I was grateful for his usual attitude.

    I sat down next to him, ignoring his personal space. ¡°I wanna know what the fuck is going on. A week ago, they wanted me dead for stepping on the same ground as them. Now they love me. Feels off.¡±

    Katsuo gave me a look, expression neutral but voice dripping with irritation. ¡°You can¡¯t actually be serious.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Everyone at the Academy knows about your new affiliations.¡± He sighed like he was explaining something obvious. ¡°How could they not treat you with respect?¡±

    ¡°They know about the Government and the Ripperdoc?¡± I asked, half-understanding. ¡°More like bootlicking than respect.¡±

    ¡°Of course they¡¯re licking your feet.¡± He looked away, arms crossed. ¡°Corporate warfare is about negotiations, schemes, profit¡ªbut most of all, connections. You have excellent ones. Even if I don¡¯t like it, I¡¯ll admit¡ªyou¡¯re the best contact anyone at the Academy could make.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know,¡± I muttered, angrier than I meant to sound. ¡°But how the hell did they find out?¡±

    Katsuo turned back to me, jabbing a finger in my face. ¡°Because everyone¡¯s got their eyes on you, David. You excel at everything this Academy teaches¡ªwhile being a street kid.¡±

    I blinked, then slowly pushed his finger away. ¡°I¡¯m the exception that proves the rule, unfortunately.¡±

    ¡°What rule?¡±

    I leaned back, letting out a sigh. ¡°The rule that kids like me don¡¯t make it here. Street kids aren¡¯t supposed to stand out in a place like this¡ªat least, not in a good way.¡±

    Katsuo narrowed his eyes. ¡°And yet here you are, top of the class and rubbing shoulders with corpos. That¡¯s why they¡¯re acting like this. They want a piece of your success, hoping it rubs off on them.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± I muttered sarcastically. ¡°Suddenly, I¡¯m the Academy¡¯s new poster boy. That explains the fake smiles, but it still feels wrong. It¡¯s like they¡¯re waiting for something.¡±

    ¡°Of course they are,¡± Katsuo scoffed. ¡°They¡¯re waiting for you to screw up. As long as you¡¯re perfect, you¡¯re untouchable. But the second you slip up, they¡¯ll be right there, ready to drag you down.¡±

    ¡°Comforting thought.¡± I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to shake off the paranoia creeping in. ¡°But why now? Just because of the uniform?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Katsuo said, his tone serious. ¡°Because you¡¯re a wildcard, Martinez. A street kid with government connections? That¡¯s not normal. You¡¯re unpredictable, and that scares them. But if they can¡¯t control you, they¡¯ll try to befriend you. Better to keep an ally close than risk an enemy.¡±

    I considered his words. It made sense. I¡¯d always stood out, but this sudden shift in attitude wasn¡¯t about respect¡ªit was about fear. The realization left a sour taste in my mouth.

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re wasting their time,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t plan on playing their game.¡±

    Katsuo smirked. ¡°Good. They don¡¯t deserve you anyway. Just keep your head down and keep doing what you do best.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°Pissing everyone off,¡± he said, his smirk turning into a rare, genuine smile.

    I chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. At least I still had one person who treated me the same¡ªno bullshit, no fake smiles. Just the harsh truth.

    ¡°Thanks, Katsuo.¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± he grumbled, turning back to his lunch. ¡°Just don¡¯t get soft on me, Martinez. This place will eat you alive if you do.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± I said, digging into my own meal.

    I scanned the cafeteria. A few students waved, a little too eager. Others whispered in hushed tones, their eyes darting toward me with cautious curiosity.

    Yeah, something had shifted. Whether it was for better or worse¡­ that remained to be seen.

    I stood, sliding my untouched tray onto the return belt.

    Whatever game they thought they were playing, they¡¯d better be ready. Because if Santo Domingo taught me anything, it was this:

    Respect isn¡¯t given. It¡¯s earned in blood.

    And I¡¯ve got plenty left to spill.

    <hr>

    A few hours after the Academy, Sasha came to pick me up. She wasn¡¯t the one driving¡ªsome guy with a mustache and heavy England vibes had the wheel. Whatever. A choom of Sasha¡¯s was a choom of mine, even if I¡¯d only known her for about a week and a half.

    ¡°David!¡± Sasha waved eagerly, her bright pink outfit a refreshing contrast to the sea of corporate monotony I¡¯d just left behind. ¡°I need to talk to you about the thing!¡±

    ¡°The thing?¡± the driver snorted, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. ¡°Real subtle.¡± His voice dripped with sarcasm.

    ¡°Fuck you, Falco!¡± Sasha shot back. ¡°He knows about the gig!¡±

    ¡°And so will everyone else if you keep yelling,¡± I said, placing a hand on her head to calm her down.

    She pouted. ¡°I hate you now.¡±

    ¡°And I love you,¡± I replied, finally letting go.

    Falco smirked and motioned for me to get in. ¡°Well, hop in. We got a lot to go over.¡±

    I climbed into the van, getting comfortable. ¡°Where are we headed?¡±

    ¡°The Afterlife!¡± Sasha practically bounced in her seat, grinning. ¡°It¡¯s a serious gig, so we gotta keep it hush-hush.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Secrecy,¡± Falco chuckled, pulling onto the road.

    ¡°Wait, hold up. The Afterlife? That Afterlife?¡± I asked, just to be sure.

    ¡°Yep!¡± Sasha gave me a thumbs-up, her eyes practically sparkling. ¡°We¡¯re in the big leagues now! Besides, you already knew our crew ran gigs there.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Right.¡± I scratched the back of my head. ¡°Feels like a lifetime ago with everything that¡¯s happened.¡±

    ¡°No worries, kid,¡± Falco said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. ¡°Long as you¡¯re with us, you¡¯re nova.¡±

    ¡°Preem.¡± I nodded, then pulled out my phone.

    Might as well cue up some music for the ride to Kabuki.

    <hr>

    ¡°All right,¡± I said, glancing around at the crew that had literally held me hostage a few weeks ago. ¡°But why do you need me for this?¡±

    Pilar poked my bicep. ¡°Damn, this dude is jacked.¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± Rebecca¡ªsomeone I hadn¡¯t met that day¡ªjumped in, ¡°Maine and Pilar aren¡¯t exactly cut out for stealth ops. One shoots at anything that pisses him off, and the other is just a gonk.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, fuck you too, Becca.¡± Pilar snorted, then poked my chest this time. ¡°How many abs you got?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ six?¡± I answered, confused.

    ¡°Looks like a thousand.¡± He poked again.

    ¡°See? Pilar¡¯s an idiot.¡± Rebecca crossed her arms.

    Maine grumbled. ¡°Ignoring the insult to my alleged anger issues¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, so now you¡¯re admitting you have them?¡± She smirked.

    ¡°¡ªKiwi and Lucy are Netrunners, so they can¡¯t exactly keep Maxim Kuznetsov distracted for long,¡± he continued, ignoring her.

    ¡°What about Sasha?¡± I asked, sparing a glance at her. ¡°She¡¯s got Lynx Paws, and I assume she¡¯s an excellent NetGunner.¡±

    ¡°Oh, why thank you!¡± Sasha beamed. ¡°But even though that¡¯s true, I don¡¯t fit the corpo agenda. I¡¯m my own thing, ya know?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you come in,¡± Dorio said, pointing at me¡ªat my uniform, at the way I carried myself.

    Made sense.

    When I walked into the Afterlife, everyone¡ªbouncers, bartenders, mercs, solos¡ªgave me the look. Like I didn¡¯t belong. Like I was an intruder in their sacred den. And it wasn¡¯t hard to figure out why.

    I was still in my Arasaka uniform.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly a corpo suit, but close enough. Arasaka¡¯s rep wasn¡¯t just bad in the merc world¡ªit was hated. So of course they saw me as a threat. Worse, I realized I was moving, talking, acting like a corpo without even thinking about it.

    Symbiote¡¯s work, probably. No way in hell I¡¯d ever do that naturally.

    Not that I cared anymore.

    ¡°And,¡± Dorio continued, ¡°as Pilar¡¯s so kindly pointed out, you¡¯ve got some serious muscle. All natural, from what I can tell.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s how he managed to take you hostage that day,¡± Pilar said, nodding like he¡¯d just solved a great mystery.

    BONK

    ¡°OUCH!¡±

    Dorio¡¯s fist landed squarely on his head.

    Lucy downed the last of her whiskey before speaking. ¡°According to our fixer, Maxim has the day off. He usually spends it betting at some bar he hits up now and then.¡±

    Kiwi picked up from there. ¡°There¡¯s a poker table there. If you play and make the right bets¡ªones that¡¯ll catch Maxim¡¯s attention¡ªwe¡¯ll have enough time to pull the data we need.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s where I come in!¡± Rebecca grinned, hands on her hips. ¡°Sasha and I will be inside the bar, playing our parts.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°...Riiight. Does that mean you¡¯ll¡­¡±

    ¡°For me? No.¡± Sasha immediately crossed her arms in an X shape. ¡°I¡¯m not about to play JoyToy in some bar. I¡¯ve got a rep, and I¡¯m not throwing that away.¡±

    ¡°Coward,¡± Rebecca muttered.

    Maine and Dorio just exchanged looks, grimacing at Rebecca¡¯s antics. Pilar, meanwhile, had decided he was better off flirting with the bartender.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Kiwi sighed, clearly already over this conversation. ¡°And if things go south¡ªwhich they probably will¡ªjust fight him. It¡¯s not like getting into a brawl with an Academy kid on his day off will get him in trouble. He¡¯s a protected class. Privileged beyond belief.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can only imagine,¡± I said, rolling my eyes. ¡°So, because I¡¯m affiliated with Arasaka, you want me to lure him into wasting time?¡±

    Maine pointed at me. ¡°You act like a corpo anyway. Even for a Santo kid.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, I haven¡¯t exactly flipped the switch to bring OG David back. And I probably won¡¯t.¡± I scratched the back of my neck.

    ¡°Why?¡± Sasha tilted her head, curious.

    ¡°Vomi hired me as a half-intern,¡± I said. ¡°Y¡¯know, now that we¡¯ve had that discussion about the ¡®parasite¡¯ thing.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s confusion quickly turned to realization. ¡°Oh! That thing? Uh¡­ good for you?¡±

    ¡°Partially, yeah.¡±

    Pilar finally pulled himself away from the bartender. ¡°Wait, so David got hired by that hot Ripperdoc?¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡± I shot him a thumbs-up.

    ¡°Preem,¡± he muttered, sounding almost defeated.

    ¡°Just make sure to clear your schedule for the gig,¡± Maine said, standing up.

    I stayed seated, making him pause. ¡°Didn¡¯t say I agreed yet.¡± Hands in my pockets, I leaned back slightly. ¡°There¡¯s something I need first before I give you my answer.¡±

    The whole table¡ªhell, even some other tables¡ªturned to stare at me. The music after a while stopped, making those who weren''t paying attention now turn to us all.

    Is this what it feels like to be a corpo? Because it¡¯s already getting annoying.

    Mom, you have some weird wishes.

    ¡°And what exactly do you need?¡± Maine asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

    ¡°Eddies,¡± I said plainly. ¡°Can¡¯t accept a gig without knowing what I¡¯ll be cashing in.¡±

    Rebecca groaned, pointing a pale white finger at me. ¡°Did you really make a whole scene just to talk about payment? Choom, you are seriously turning into a corpo.¡±

    ¡°That depends on Faraday,¡± Falco finally spoke up after quietly smoking beside us. ¡°If we pull this off perfectly, it¡¯s more than any of us could make on our own. And let¡¯s be real¡ªa corpo¡¯s paying us. It¡¯s gonna be six digits or more. Of course, we¡¯re splitting it evenly.¡±

    ¡°You split evenly?¡± I raised an eyebrow, caught somewhere between shock and pleasant surprise.

    Maine nodded. ¡°No matter how much or how little someone did for the gig.¡±

    I thought for a second, then shook my head. ¡°No complaints from me.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s move. We¡¯ve got another gig to handle.¡±

    The bar quickly settled back into its usual rhythm¡ªdrinks flowing, gig talk buzzing, the bartender making rounds with offers, and the occasional song request filling the air. Most of the crew had left, except for two¡ªRebecca and Lucy.

    ¡°You¡¯re not heading out with them?¡± I asked Rebecca, who immediately pouted.

    ¡°Oh, I wish I could,¡± she grumbled, flipping Maine off behind his back. ¡°Fucking chrometard won¡¯t let me join because I¡¯m ¡®too young¡¯¡ªor so he says.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the real reason, but you refuse to accept it,¡± Lucy said flatly, turning her bored gaze toward the tiny menace.

    Rebecca practically jumped onto the table. ¡°How the hell am I supposed to prove I can handle myself if Maine keeps sticking me with the most boring-ass tasks?! That is, if he even lets me join. How long until I get some real action? I wanna dump a hundred rounds into some gonkwit who totally deserves castration!¡±

    Jesus Christ. Is this what she normally says?

    I coughed awkwardly. ¡°Uh¡­ maybe just give it time?¡±

    Rebecca slumped back into her seat, sliding down like she was melting. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting. Months. And all I got was a fucking JoyToy cosplay.¡±

    ¡°How can you prove yourself if you don¡¯t get the chance?¡± I asked, wondering if Maine had ever actually considered that.

    ¡°RIGHT?!¡± Rebecca practically exploded, throwing her hands up. For once, I didn¡¯t even flinch at the sudden outburst. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been telling him, but does he listen? No!¡±

    ¡°And as we¡¯ve already discussed, that¡¯s not the real reason he doesn¡¯t let you join,¡± Lucy sighed, lighting up a cigarette.

    ¡°Yeah, fuck y¡¯all. I¡¯m gonna drink until I pass out,¡± Rebecca huffed, hopping out of the booth and stomping over to angrily order an entire bottle of something.

    And just like that, it was just me and Lucy.

    ¡°Lucy.¡±

    ¡°David.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s your mom doing?¡± she asked.

    ¡°She recovered. Back to work, but no extra hours anymore.¡± I answered, still thinking about how she had set me up earlier.

    ¡°And how are you doing?¡± she asked, offering a sincere smile.

    One I didn¡¯t trust anymore.

    ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡± I said, my tone cold.

    ¡°Still pissed about what I did?¡± she asked, blowing a stream of smoke to the side.

    ¡°Of course I am,¡± I said, crossing my arms. ¡°You sold me out because of a hunch. And now we¡¯re supposed to work together? I can¡¯t promise I¡¯ll go out of my way to save your ass if things go south.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you,¡± Lucy admitted with a smirk. ¡°I¡¯d feel the same way if someone did that to me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re acting way too damn optimistic for the situation,¡± I muttered, standing up. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to hold a grudge, but for now? I don¡¯t think we have anything to talk about.¡±

    Lucy exhaled another puff of smoke, watching me with that same unreadable expression. ¡°Fair enough,¡± she said, her voice calm, almost amused. ¡°I¡¯ll see you at the job, then.¡±

    I didn¡¯t bother responding. Instead, I turned and walked away, slipping my hands into my pockets. The Afterlife was still alive with chatter, drinks being poured, and mercs discussing their next big payday. I felt eyes on me, though whether they were from people curious about the Arasaka kid or just sizing me up for other reasons, I didn¡¯t know¡ªor care.

    As I stepped outside, Night City¡¯s neon glare hit me immediately. The air was thick with smog, the distant hum of traffic mixing with the occasional gunshot or siren. Business as usual.

    I checked my agent. A few unread messages. Nothing urgent.

    Then a new one popped up.

    Vomi: "So, you''re working with them now?"

    I frowned, hesitating before replying. Even more when I didn''t even know how she knew about the meeting.

    Then I realized that maybe Sasha told her.

    Yeah, sounds about right.

    Me: "Something like that."

    Three dots flickered, showing she was typing. Then,

    Vomi: "Be careful."

    I scoffed. Careful? In this city? Yeah, right.

    Still, I closed my agent and made my way home. A storm was brewing, both in the sky and in whatever the hell I had just gotten myself into.

    <hr>

    The Following Week

    The next few days were fairly routine for David. The only real change in his life was getting a crash course on what exactly a Ripperdoc does. Procedures, medical receipts, patient data analysis, how different meds interact with various conditions¡ªhe absorbed it all. Even making incisions under Vomi¡¯s intense scrutiny, with the occasional correction from Vik, became part of his daily grind. Whenever he made a mistake, Vik was there to suggest a better, faster way to handle things.

    David handled civilian patients, while Vik and Vomi focused on Edgerunners, cyberware installations, and even drug synthesis. Thanks to the symbiote, he wasn¡¯t flawless, but he learned fast. His hands were steady, and he grasped concepts on the first explanation, making repeated instructions unnecessary. Vomi expected this level of efficiency, but Vik found it¡­ odd. Impressive, sure, but odd¡ªthough knowing about the symbiote explained at least part of it.

    As for Gloria, her return to work at the Emergency Medic Team was met with open arms. Everyone was glad to see her back to her usual self¡ªenergetic and present, instead of exhausted to the brink of collapse. Work had been relatively calm lately, with only the occasional car crash or gang-related shootout near conflict zones. Nothing unusual for Night City. With her premature vacation still leaving her with plenty of days off, she had little to complain about.

    At least public service workers were still treated with some respect in 2076.

    ¡°What about your son, Gloria?¡± one of her coworkers asked. She had a chromed-out face with a highly analytical optic¡ªperfect for field procedures. ¡°I heard he¡¯s working with a Ripperdoc now.¡±

    Gloria couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Yes, he is. Already making a career for himself outside of Arasaka Academy.¡±

    ¡°You must be proud, huh?¡± her supervisor added, nodding in a way that only someone with an inflated ego would allow themselves.

    ¡°I am¡­ but he still thinks more with his youth than he does with his head.¡± Gloria crossed her arms, uncertainty flickering across her face.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure he thinks more of you than anything else,¡± one of them reassured Gloria before quickly turning back to their screen. ¡°Oh, hold on¡ªlooks like we¡¯ve got a 720.¡±

    ¡°Someone lost a leg? Again?¡± another groaned, already heading for the ambulance.

    ¡°Trauma Team¡¯s responding, but only for their clients, as usual,¡± the supervisor added. ¡°Let¡¯s move¡ªpeople need saving.¡±

    ¡°All for the paycheck,¡± everyone echoed in unison, including Gloria.

    <hr>

    Sasha was doing her usual makeup shopping at the megabuilding. Well, calling it a mall would be a stretch, but in Night City, this was as close as you¡¯d get to something cheap yet accessible to everyone. There was an actual mall, sure, but from what Sasha knew, everything there was so expensive she doubted even corpo suits shopped there¡ªwhy pay extra when they could get the same thing cheaper, and probably better, if they lowered their standards just a little?

    She strolled through the aisles with her cart, enjoying the rare bit of free time¡ªuntil she spotted a familiar face.

    Vomi.

    She was in the same megabuilding, though definitely not for makeup shopping. Not that she needed it¡ªSasha always thought Vomi was naturally beautiful, but a tiny touch-up could turn her into a flawless masterpiece. Not that it mattered. If Vomi didn¡¯t care, Sasha wasn¡¯t about to push her.

    What did matter was what the hell Vomi was doing here. As far as Sasha knew, the scientist never left the clinic in Watson. Even after asking David and Vik, she got the same answer¡ªVomi kept to herself. Always. So why the seclusion? Why the unsociable behavior? Back in San Francisco, she was direct, professional, and even worked for a corp.

    What changed?

    Sasha didn''t have the answers, but she was going to find them. Stashing her cart in a spot no one would bother robbing, she started tailing Vomi.

    A few turns through the back alleys of the megabuilding, and Sasha suddenly realized she had stepped into Maelstrom turf. That would be a death sentence for most people¡ªbut Vomi was far from average.

    Sure enough, after a few moments of quiet observation, Sasha spotted her meeting with a group of Maelstrom gangers. She could make out some of Vomi¡¯s words, but not a single one from the gangers, meaning she¡¯d have to get closer if she wanted to hear the full conversation. Fortunately, her Lynx Paws made that easy. With a light jump, she landed on the rooftops of a few shops, darting silently toward them.

    Finally, she could make out what they were saying.

    ¡°The pay is the usual,¡± Vomi said with a tired sigh. ¡°We got a deal?¡±

    ¡°Sure, choom. You¡¯re an excellent customer,¡± one of the Maelstrom gangers chuckled, opening the box he was holding.

    Inside was a bag packed with chems¡ªso full it was almost absurd. Sasha recognized some of them, but others she didn¡¯t even know existed. Propofol, Ketamine, Flunitrazepam, Midazolam¡ªevery single one a powerful sedative, some legal, most definitely not.

    Vomi paid, if the brief flash of her optics was any indication, then immediately pulled out a syringe, filled it with Ketamine, and injected it straight into her vein.

    A full bottle.

    Sasha felt her concern spike.

    ¡°Heh, I¡¯ll never understand how the fuck you¡¯re still alive after a full dose of that,¡± one of the Maelstrom gangers commented with a laugh. ¡°But hey, you¡¯re paying.¡±

    ¡°Pleasure doing business with y¡¯all¡­¡± Vomi murmured, already sounding drowsy as her expression softened.

    She picked up the box and started heading out.

    Look, Sasha might not be an expert on sedatives, but Jesus Christ¡ªan entire bottle of Ketamine?

    Sasha hesitated for a moment, debating whether to follow Vomi or just get the hell out of there. The scientist was clearly in her own world, stumbling slightly but still moving with a strange sense of purpose, as if she had done this a thousand times before. The Maelstrom gangers paid her no mind after the deal was done, already walking off to do whatever gruesome business they had next.

    That left Sasha with a choice¡ªconfront Vomi now or keep watching?

    Her gut told her to keep watching.

    She trailed Vomi as she weaved through the building¡¯s alleys, avoiding the more populated areas like she was actively trying not to be seen. Every few minutes, she¡¯d twitch slightly, adjust her pace, or flex her fingers in a way that made Sasha uneasy. Like she was testing if her body still worked.

    Eventually, Vomi reached a maintenance stairwell and disappeared inside.

    Sasha moved fast, scaling a nearby railing to peek inside from the upper floors.

    What she saw made her heart sink.

    Vomi had set the box of sedatives down on a rusted-out metal table and was methodically sorting them. But it wasn¡¯t just for organization¡ªshe was prepping more doses.

    Another syringe. Another vial. Another slow, careful injection straight into her arm.

    Sasha clenched her jaw. This wasn¡¯t just casual drug use¡ªthis was something else.

    And it scared the hell out of her.

    What the fuck is going on with you, Vomi?

    Sasha couldn''t watch anymore. She stepped in front of the access door, staring directly at Vomi.

    Instant regret.

    Vomi¡¯s gaze was emptier than Sasha had ever seen¡ªno recognition, no reaction, just a hollow stare that barely registered her presence.

    Actually¡­ was anyone even there? It didn¡¯t feel like she was looking at a person. Just a body, going through the motions, reacting on instinct.

    Then, after a beat of silence, Vomi let out a tired chuckle. No emotion. No acknowledgment. Just a passing amusement at something Sasha couldn¡¯t understand.

    And then she went right back to injecting herself, as if Sasha was nothing more than a fleeting thought.

    Sasha stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had always seen Vomi as someone sharp, someone fully aware of her surroundings, but now... this? This wasn''t her.

    Vomi continued with her injections, the syringe sliding in with practiced precision, each dose entering her body without hesitation. The emptiness in her eyes grew, and Sasha¡¯s heart clenched with a mix of concern and confusion. Was this really just a method to survive, or was there something deeper at play?

    Sasha felt like an intruder now, watching the woman she once knew slip further into something unrecognizable. She wanted to say something, to snap her out of it, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she help when even Vomi didn¡¯t seem to be fully there?

    "Hey, Sasha.¡± Vomi''s voice was weak, her words stumbling out as though she didn''t have the strength to speak, ¡°How you doing?¡±

    ¡°Me...?¡± Sasha muttered, caught off guard, unsure of what to say. ¡°Vomi, what is all this for?¡±

    ¡°Oh, this?¡± Vomi waved the syringe lazily in front of her, ¡°It¡¯s to... relax. Only works in big doses, though.¡±

    ¡°Big doses?¡± Sasha''s voice cracked in disbelief, ¡°Those are beyond lethal, Vomi.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Vomi nodded nonchalantly, then injected another syringe into her arm. ¡°I wish it could. But this thing can''t. Not even a nuke could.¡±

    Sasha opened her mouth to argue, but the weight of Vomi''s words hit her hard. Wait... Could Vomi really survive something like that? The thought lingered in her mind, and the strange, unsettling truth dawned on her¡ªVomi had survived a nuclear explosion.

    Sasha stood there, staring at Vomi in stunned silence. Her mind struggled to process the sheer weight of the statement. It wasn¡¯t just the casual way Vomi said it¡ªit was the quiet certainty behind her words, as if she truly believed what she was saying.

    ¡°Vomi... what are you?¡± Sasha finally whispered, the question more out of concern than curiosity.

    Vomi¡¯s eyes flickered with something that could have been amusement or simply exhaustion. She didn¡¯t answer right away, her gaze lost in some distant thought. After a long pause, she sighed, leaning back against the wall as if the weight of her own body was too much to bear.

    ¡°I¡¯m something that¡¯s not meant to exist,¡± Vomi murmured, almost to herself. ¡°I don¡¯t belong here, but I¡¯m stuck. Stuck between who I used to be and what I¡¯ve become.¡±

    Sasha felt a chill crawl up her spine. The words hung in the air like a thick fog, each syllable sinking deeper into her chest. She wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to know the full truth, but a part of her needed to.

    ¡°Why do you keep doing this to yourself?¡± Sasha asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the worry unmistakable.

    Vomi looked at her then, her expression empty, almost hollow, but there was a flicker of something¡ªmaybe sadness, maybe regret.

    ¡°Because sometimes it¡¯s easier to numb the pain than face it,¡± she replied softly. ¡°I don¡¯t have to feel anything. And I don¡¯t have to care. Not for anyone, not even for myself.¡±

    Sasha¡¯s heart twisted in her chest. She wanted to help, wanted to reach out, but the distance between them was like an impenetrable wall. Vomi had shut herself off completely, and no matter how much Sasha tried to break through, she couldn¡¯t help but feel that Vomi was already too far gone.

    ¡°Vomi¡­¡± Sasha¡¯s voice cracked slightly, ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this alone.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s lips curled into a small, tired smile, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes.

    ¡°Everyone always says that,¡± she said, her voice heavy with something unspoken. ¡°But I¡¯ve realized nothing changes here. The world¡¯s drowning in contempt, and in the end, everything¡¯s the same. Glory, fame¡ªthen they all fall away, just like everyone else.¡±

    Vomi shot Sasha one last, piercing look. ¡°This world is nothing but futility, and I¡¯m stuck in it. So just¡­ leave me alone, alright?¡±

    Sasha didn¡¯t know how to respond. She wasn¡¯t ready to accept that, but the words stuck with her like a shard of glass.

    As Vomi injected another dose of sedative, Sasha turned and walked away, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. The person she had once known, the one who had seemed so in control, so untouchable, was breaking down right before her eyes. And all Sasha could do was watch, helpless.

 Chapter 48: Lethal Dose

    Vomi stumbled into the clinic¡ªsloppy, sluggish, trembling. The moment she reached the living room, she collapsed onto the couch, melting into a viscous, purple mass, with the only exception being the chrome arm sticking out of it. The symbiote sloshed and oozed, flooding the poor sofa before slowly pulling itself back together. Piece by piece, she reformed, or at least tried to, her body struggling to take shape again.

    Vik entered the room, ready to call it a night for the clinic, only to find something he was getting far too used to¡ªthough that didn¡¯t mean he liked it.

    Ever since they met, Vomi had done this. She spent a fortune on sedatives so potent they could knock even the most chromed-up borg into a coma. And yet, all it did to her was¡­ slow her down. Whatever he glimpsed in her memories that night, he knew she was trying to keep something inside¡ªeven if it meant wrecking her own body. Then again, did it even harm her? Klyntar biology was both fascinating and terrifying, so Vik chose to stay willfully ignorant.

    As a ripperdoc, he understood why she did it. But as a human being, it was unbearable.

    Vomi¡¯s form finally stabilized, but it wasn¡¯t the pale scientist with red eyes that emerged. No, this was the first version of her Vik had ever seen¡ªthe one with deep violet skin, wild white hair, a flicking tail, and those piercing orange-black eyes. She clenched her fists, exhaling sharply before heading to the wardrobe. Her previous clothes had melted away, so she grabbed a fresh set¡ªboots, leggings, a white tank top, a leather jacket. This time, she tied a red ribbon into her bangs.

    ¡°Better,¡± she murmured, rolling her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m heading out. Got people to meet.¡±

    Vik sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°How do you even¡­ No, never mind. I don¡¯t wanna know.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s tail flicked lazily. ¡°Panther, watch David while I¡¯m gone.¡±

    A soft, indifferent ¡°Meow¡± came from somewhere nearby.

    Then she left, her expression shifting¡ªdistant, detached, that slight flicker of psychosis creeping in.

    And that smile.

    That fucking smile.

    <hr>

    A Few Days Later

    David Martinez

    I roll up to the bar, Jacked and Coke, rocking my totally-not-stolen Arasaka suit, with absolutely no intention of using a stolen credchip to place totally legal bets. And, of course, I''m definitely not here to help someone pull off a klep.

    Happy days.

    The place is dead¡ªjust a few scattered customers, most of whom I can vaguely place where they live and how much they make in a year. Too bad my hair decided to grow back into its original preem cut overnight. If it weren¡¯t for that, I¡¯d blend right in. I¡¯m not complaining, but seriously, couldn¡¯t the timing have been better?

    Anyway, job¡¯s a job. And if there¡¯s one thing I¡¯m good at, it¡¯s making totally legal money.

    Whether inside or outside the law, a win¡¯s a win.

    And I love my current situation.

    ¡­That¡¯s sarcasm, by the way.

    ¡°Sir, are you looking for a game?¡± The croupier at the poker table calls out to me, way too polite for a place like this. ¡°We have room for more players.¡±

    The table¡¯s got a massive crowd of two people, leaving two open seats. Perfect. I can run my game without any unnecessary interference. All I need to do is place big bets¡ªenough to lure in Maxim. My role? Act like a gonk with too much money and too much booze in his system. Just tempting enough to be a target, but not an easy one.

    I flash the croupier a confident grin. ¡°Hope you¡¯re ready to lose. I¡¯ve never lost a game of poker.¡±

    One of the players snorts. ¡°Yeah? We¡¯ll see about that.¡±

    I turn to the bartender as I take my seat. ¡°Oi! Get me something good!¡±

    He just nods and starts pouring. Don¡¯t care what it is¡ªI¡¯m not here to drink, just to sell the act.

    Rebecca gives me a subtle nod from across the room. Sasha waves too, but her eyes flicker with a warning.

    Right. No screw-ups, David.

    The croupier waits as we stack our chips, eddies hitting the table. Small and big blinds are in¡ªminimum bet¡¯s fifty eddies. Damn, that¡¯s steep, but hey, it¡¯s poker. Should¡¯ve expected it.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see if daddy¡¯s boy has any actual game,¡± the other player sneers, laughing. ¡°Pretty sure you won¡¯t miss the eddies.¡±

    I smirk as the bartender sets a bottle and a glass of bourbon in front of me. Pouring myself a shot, I keep my tone casual. ¡°Who says I¡¯m gonna miss them? As far as I¡¯m concerned, this whole table already has my name on it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, sure,¡± he scoffs. ¡°Just deal the damn cards.¡±

    The croupier chuckles, shuffling smoothly, while even the bartender seems more invested now. Meanwhile, Maxim¡¯s still glued to the TV, watching some game or sporting event, probably bleeding eddies on bets he thinks he can win.

    The first two cards land in front of me. I take a quick peek¡­ and have to fight the urge to grimace.

    Seven of spades. Two of hearts.

    Yeah. This is gonna be a long night.

    The game moves forward, and I play it cool, swirling the bourbon in my glass like I don¡¯t have absolute garbage in my hand. The flop comes down¡ªKing of diamonds, ten of clubs, four of spades.

    Yeah. Still garbage.

    The other guy smirks, tapping his fingers on the table. ¡°Feelin¡¯ lucky, corpo boy?¡±

    I grin, taking a slow sip. ¡°Luck¡¯s just probability in disguise.¡± Then I toss in a stack of eddies, just enough to look cocky but not outright stupid. ¡°Raise.¡±

    He laughs, shaking his head. ¡°Big talk for someone about to get cleaned out.¡± He calls.

    The turn card flips. Six of hearts.

    Useless. Absolutely useless.

    Rebecca casually leans against the bar, her gaze flicking toward me. No words, but I can feel the message¡ªdon¡¯t screw this up.

    Maxim¡¯s still watching the screen, distracted. I just need him to take the bait. The other guy makes his move, pushing in more eddies. I match, keeping my expression unreadable.

    The river flips. Queen of spades.

    Not what I wanted, but I can work with it. I glance at my opponent, who¡¯s trying to suppress a grin.

    Yeah. He thinks he¡¯s won.

    Perfect.

    "All in," I say, shoving all my eddies into the pot with a smug grin.

    To sell the act, I kick my feet up on the table and take another swig of bourbon. Gotta say, for all the hype, this stuff goes down surprisingly easy.

    "The fuck?" One of the guys nearly chokes on his drink. "First round, and you''re already pushing everything in? Are you¡ª?"

    He stops himself just short of calling me an idiot.

    The other player leans back, arms crossed, eyeing me like he''s trying to read a corrupted data file. "There''s no way you''ve got a strong hand. But then again¡­ would you really bet it all if you didn¡¯t?" He clicks his tongue. "Damn, tough choice."

    For all his big talk, though, he folds, tossing his cards down with a resigned sigh.

    "Yeah, no shot," the other guy agrees, folding as well. Then he squints at me. "Alright, what were you sitting on?"

    I slide my cards over to the croupier with an easy shrug. "Here, take a look."

    Both of them lean in.

    Then back at me.

    "You can''t be serious." Their voices are flat, unimpressed.

    "Dead serious." I smirk, raking back my chips. Just like that, I scrape about seven percent of their total bets. A small gain, but enough to build the illusion that I know what I''m doing.

    Round two begins.

    Ace of Spades. Queen of Clubs.

    A real hand this time.

    I keep my expression relaxed, pouring myself another shot of bourbon. The guy across from me chuckles, shaking his head.

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe that worked,¡± he mutters, still salty from the last round. ¡°Gonk move, man. Bold, but stupid.¡±

    ¡°Bold and stupid is how I make my money,¡± I say, swirling my drink before knocking it back. ¡°Sometimes, you gotta go all in on life, ya know?¡±

    The croupier smirks as he starts the betting. ¡°Sounds like something someone deep in debt would say.¡±

    I laugh. ¡°Oh, you have no idea.¡±

    The bartender leans on the counter, clearly more invested in us than his actual job. ¡°I¡¯m just waiting for one of you gonks to lose it all in one go. This table¡¯s got that energy.¡±

    The first player puts in a cautious bet, while the second guy¡ªstill eyeing me like I¡¯m some enigma he can¡¯t crack¡ªraises it.

    I match the raise without hesitation, tapping my fingers against the chips. ¡°So, what¡¯s the buy-in here? Just eddies, or we throwing in pink slips? Because I¡¯ve got a ride I totally didn¡¯t steal parked outside.¡±

    The second guy snorts. ¡°If you¡¯re talking about that corpo-grade sedan out there, I know you stole it.¡±

    I grin. ¡°Who¡¯s to say? Maybe some rich gonk just gave it to me.¡±

    The croupier shakes his head. ¡°That¡¯s not how rich gonks work.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± the bartender adds. ¡°If a corpo gave you something, it¡¯s either poisoned, bugged, or meant to screw you later.¡±

    ¡°Speaking from experience?¡± I ask, raising an eyebrow.

    He shrugs. ¡°Just saying, I used to have a bar in Heywood. Sold it to a guy in a suit. Now it¡¯s a sushi place with terrible drinks.¡±

    The second player clicks his tongue, nudging his bet higher. ¡°Enough chatter. You raising or what?¡±

    I glance at the pot, then at my cards.

    Ace-Queen suited. Yeah, I¡¯m raising.

    I slide a hefty stack of chips forward with a confident smirk. ¡°Raise. Hope you¡¯re ready to lose your paycheck.¡±

    The guy cracks his neck, grinning. ¡°Oh, I love a challenge.¡±

    The dealer burns a card and flips the flop.

    King of Spades. Ten of Diamonds. Jack of Clubs.

    I almost smile. Now we¡¯re talking.

    Unfortunately, I have to play it cool¡ªway more uninterested than I''d like. So, I do what any gonk does when they don¡¯t wanna risk their eddies too soon.

    I tap my fingers on the table. ¡°Check.¡±

    ¡°Raise.¡± The second guy doesn¡¯t even hesitate, pushing his chips forward.

    ¡°Already?¡± The first guy shoots him a look. ¡°You could¡¯ve waited at least one round.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I could have.¡± The guy shrugs, then turns to me. ¡°But where¡¯s the fun in that?¡±

    The first guy scoffs. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not folding twice in a row.¡± He matches the bet, then both of them look at me expectantly.

    I sigh like they¡¯re really twisting my arm here. ¡°Fine.¡± I slide my chips in. ¡°Let¡¯s dance.¡±

    The comms crackle to life with the crew''s chatter.

    ¡°Gotta say¡­¡± Falco muses, sounding almost impressed. ¡°Kid¡¯s holding his own.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t count your eddies yet,¡± Kiwi cuts in. ¡°Maxim hasn¡¯t even looked away from the damn TV.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t either if my money was on the line,¡± Pilar scoffs. ¡°But come on, he could at least pretend to care.¡±

    ¡°I got this,¡± Rebecca says.

    From the corner of my eye, I see her lean over the bar and shout.

    ¡°HEY! I NEED A DRINK, YOU USELESS PRICK!¡±

    The whole bar turns¡ªme included. Subtle. Real delicate work there, Becca.

    But¡­ Maxim does finally glance at the table.

    So¡­ nova? I guess?

    ¡°The hell¡¯s goin¡¯ on here?¡±

    Maxim¡¯s voice rumbles like a damn freight train, his massive frame practically blotting out the light as he looms over me.

    ¡°You a new employee?¡± he asks, eyeing me like I¡¯m some rookie suit fresh off the Arasaka conveyor belt.

    I take a slow sip of my drink, then fake a cough, wincing. ¡°Shit, this is good, but my throat ain¡¯t vibing with it.¡±

    The bartender chuckles. ¡°Hey, you asked for something good. Least you can do is drink it, choom.¡±

    Something in me switches. Maybe it¡¯s the need to sell the act, maybe it¡¯s just Maxim¡¯s presence, but my tone turns razor-sharp before I even think about it.

    ¡°What did you just say to me?¡±

    I glare at him, voice cold, dripping with that corpo superiority I¡¯ve heard a thousand times before. The bartender¡¯s smirk vanishes.

    ¡°Uh, no, I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean anything by¡ª¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t mean anything unless I say so,¡± I cut him off, my expression flat and unforgiving.

    There¡¯s a heavy silence before I turn back to the table like nothing happened. ¡°Alright. Flip the fucking cards.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Pilar¡¯s voice crackles over comms, half-impressed. ¡°That¡¯s some serious corpo energy.¡±

    The others mumble similar reactions, though Maine cuts through them with a warning.

    ¡°Don¡¯t overdo it, kid. We still need the data. Lucy, how we lookin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Still cracking the code. Need a few more mikes,¡± Lucy replies, focused.

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping the firewall from flagging our breach,¡± Kiwi adds, her voice calm as ever.

    The cards flip.

    Two of Hearts. Another Ace of Spades.

    I fight the urge to grin.

    That¡¯s a damn good hand.

    I drum my fingers on the table, then say casually, ¡°Check.¡±

    The first guy nods. ¡°Check.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, same. Check.¡±

    The croupier glances around, then gestures. ¡°Alright. Show ¡®em.¡±

    I lay my cards on the table, leaning back with the same cocky smirk I¡¯ve been wearing all night. ¡°There. That¡¯s game.¡±

    The first guy flips his hand. A Jack and a Ten of Diamonds. Decent, but not great.

    The second guy, though¡­

    Ace of Clubs. Ace of Hearts.

    Three-of-a-kind.

    ¡°The fuck?!¡± I blurt out, unable to hide my shock. ¡°How?!?¡±

    ¡°Three of a kind beats two pairs,¡± the croupier explains, hesitantly, like he¡¯s afraid I¡¯ll start flipping tables. ¡°Even though you had higher cards, Aces can act as any rank. Basically, he turned his Aces into¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re called Aces,¡± Maxim interrupts with a chuckle. ¡°An ace up my sleeve, just like the saying.¡±

    ¡°Oh, since you seem to know everything,¡± I smirk, pointing at the empty seat, ¡°why don¡¯t you join in? Maybe you can teach me a thing or two. Or maybe I¡¯ll take all your eddies instead.¡±

    His brow arches. ¡°Is that a challenge?¡±

    ¡°You bet. Let¡¯s see who walks out with empty pockets.¡±

    Maxim eyes the table as the guy who won rakes in his chips.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯m on a day off¡ªcould use the distraction.¡±

    Jackpot.

    The comms light up with reactions.

    Even Maine this time: ¡°Gotta say, that¡¯s some solid acting. You even threw the round to bait him in. Nova.¡±

    ¡­Yeah, Maine, about that¡­

    Just then, Sasha moves in behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. If this were a few years ago, and I had zero experience with women, I¡¯d be reacting like some gonk from an anime¡ªflustered, wide-eyed, useless. But I keep my composure, even as I realize she¡¯s not wearing a bra.

    Probably best to leave that detail unmentioned.

    ¡°Look at this! A brave young man challenging a big, scary gonk?¡± Sasha purrs, playing it up. ¡°Now that¡¯s what I like to see.¡±

    ¡°For once, you got taste,¡± Rebecca adds, nudging Maxim as he sits. ¡°This frowny little corpo brat doesn¡¯t stand a chance against a real man.¡±

    ¡°Ladies, please,¡± the croupier cuts in, balancing respect with barely concealed fear. Probably worried a corporate brawl will trash the place.

    Not that I¡¯d start one¡ªI¡¯m not actually a corpo. But Maxim?

    I glance at him. He¡¯s too busy eyeing Rebecca¡¯s¡­ assets¡­ to be a threat.

    Yeah, we¡¯re good.

    The small and big blinds hit the table. The dealer slides out the cards.

    Showtime.

    The cards land on the table, crisp and clean. I keep my face neutral as I take a peek.

    Jack of Diamonds.

    Ten of Hearts.

    Not bad. Good potential for a straight if the right cards hit the board.

    Maxim, on the other hand, leans back with that self-assured grin. Either he¡¯s got a solid hand, or he just likes messing with people.

    The croupier flips the first three community cards.

    Queen of Clubs.

    Nine of Spades.

    Five of Hearts.

    Alright. I¡¯m one card away from a straight. Maxim glances at the board, then at me, tapping his fingers on the table in thought.

    The first guy checks. The second guy, still riding his win high, tosses in a bet of 300 eddies.

    I match it without hesitation.

    Maxim lets out a deep chuckle. ¡°Confident, huh?¡± He throws in 300 as well.

    The first guy folds.

    Three players remain.

    The croupier burns a card, then flips the fourth community card.

    King of Diamonds.

    I exhale through my nose. That¡¯s it. I have a straight.

    The guy next to me, who raised earlier, hesitates. He probably doesn¡¯t have anything solid yet¡ªmaybe a pair, maybe hoping for a flush. He bets low this time, 200 eddies.

    I could raise, but I don¡¯t want to spook anyone yet. I call.

    Maxim, though? He leans forward, eyes scanning the board, then glances at me with a smirk. ¡°Let¡¯s see how much that confidence costs you.¡±

    He raises. 700 eddies.

    The other guy groans, shaking his head. ¡°Shit¡­ nah, I¡¯m out.¡± He folds.

    Now it¡¯s just me and Maxim.

    I glance at the pot. There¡¯s already a hefty sum sitting there, and something tells me this is exactly what he wants.

    I could raise again¡ªreally test him. But if he¡¯s got an Ace and a Ten, I¡¯m screwed.

    So I just call.

    The croupier burns one last card.

    Final flip.

    Seven of Hearts.

    Damn. Doesn''t change anything for me.

    Maxim watches me, his fingers tapping against his stack of chips. Then he gives a slow grin. ¡°All in.¡±

    The comms go silent.

    Maine mutters, ¡°Shit just got serious.¡±

    I stare at him. Is he bluffing? His playstyle so far has been aggressive but calculated. But I¡¯ve got a straight. The only way he beats me is if he has an Ace and a Ten, or if he pulled a miracle and has a flush.

    The pot is too tempting.

    I push my stack forward. ¡°Call.¡±

    The croupier nods. ¡°Show ¡®em.¡±

    Maxim flips his cards.

    King of Hearts.

    Queen of Spades.

    Two pairs.

    My straight wins.

    The table lets out a mix of whistles and groans. Maxim just chuckles, shaking his head. ¡°Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.¡±

    I smirk, raking in my winnings. ¡°Guess I¡¯m not walking out empty-handed after all.¡±

    Rebecca cackles. ¡°Damn, you really made big boy sweat.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky,¡± Maxim says, but there¡¯s no venom in his words. Just amusement. ¡°One good hand doesn¡¯t make you a legend.¡±

    I mull over Maxim¡¯s words for a second.

    A legend, huh?

    Smooch.

    Sasha plants a kiss on my cheek, snapping me out of my thoughts. ¡°C¡¯mon, darling. We don¡¯t have all day.¡±

    Oh. That was¡­ a hidden message? It had to be.

    I wave her off with a smirk. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, babe. I¡¯ve got it under control.¡±

    Then, a phone rings. Not mine. Judging by how everyone checks their pockets¡ªeven some guy who mutters that he doesn¡¯t even own a phone¡ªit takes a second to pinpoint the source.

    Maxim pulls his out, barely glances at the screen, then stands up from the table.

    ¡°Excuse me, gentlemen.¡± He¡¯s already answering as he steps away. ¡°Yes? I know, but today is my day off¡ª. Yes, sir.¡±

    Falco chimes in over comms. ¡°What, he¡¯s leaving?¡±

    Dorio scoffs. ¡°A guy can¡¯t catch a break even on his day off?¡±

    ¡°He must live inside the job. Not by choice, though,¡± Pilar adds. Surprisingly insightful, considering his usual brand of commentary.

    I lean back in my chair, trying to buy some time. ¡°Oh, really? Now that I win a round, you¡¯re just gonna walk?¡± I keep my tone cocky.

    Maxim barely looks over his shoulder. ¡°You want a medal? A fucking cookie?¡±

    But whoever¡¯s on the other end must¡¯ve heard him.

    ¡°No! No, sir, I wasn¡¯t talking to you,¡± he quickly corrects, his posture stiffening.

    The table¡¯s mood shifts. The easygoing atmosphere? Gone. A tension settles in its place. Even the croupier looks like he¡¯d rather be anywhere else.

    One of the other guys at the table leans toward me, voice low. ¡°I think it¡¯s best you leave too.¡±

    I meet his gaze for a second, then glance at Sasha. ¡°I think the same.¡±

    She just nods, her expression still a perfect mask of high-class indifference. It¡¯s honestly impressive how she can be both serious and completely uncaring at the same time.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t have the data,¡± Lucy says in my ear, calm but focused.

    Pilar clicks his tongue. ¡°Rebecca, do your thing.¡±

    Rebecca moves in without hesitation. She plays it off like she¡¯s just another tipsy barfly, shifting toward Maxim as if drawn by the presence of a ¡®frowny corpo¡¯ who somehow landed himself a girl. Then, with expert precision, she ¡°trips.¡±

    The drink in her hand goes flying, splashing all over Maxim¡¯s expensive suit.

    ¡°Oh my god, I¡¯m so sorry!¡± she gasps, already grabbing a napkin and reaching for his chest like she¡¯s actually about to clean it off.

    Maxim mutters a curse, too distracted by the mess to notice her fingers moving quickly along the fabric.

    I¡¯m not gonna elaborate on what happened next.

    You do you, Becca.

    By the time we step outside, I spot Maxim¡¯s car down the street.

    Lucy¡¯s already inside, fingers dancing across a cracked-open terminal. Kiwi, standing nearby, plays the part of a casual civilian, but I can tell she¡¯s busy¡ªsplitting her focus between watching for trouble and keeping the corporate Daemons from detecting their breach attempt.

    This gig isn¡¯t over yet.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time. Move it!¡± Falco¡¯s voice crackles through the comms, urgent.

    ¡°Their security has too many layers. Unless you want me to risk tripping a Black ICE,¡± Lucy replies, her tone as flat as if she were talking about the weather.

    I tighten my grip on my Lexington. There¡¯s no way we¡¯re pulling this off quietly.

    Kiwi must have seen me reaching for it because she places a firm hand over my iron. ¡°We can¡¯t kill him. Not even knock him out.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Sasha drops the act completely. No more flirty, eager bar girl¡ªnow she¡¯s all biz. ¡°Because if we so much as touch him¡ªknock him out, fry his chrome, anything¡ªevery corpo suit in the city will be on our ass.¡±

    I shake my head, frustrated. ¡°So we can¡¯t harm him, but he can harm us? Fucking preem.¡±

    Sasha tugs on my arm. ¡°Get in the driver¡¯s seat. We need to get out of here. Fast.¡±

    I don¡¯t waste time arguing. I slip into the car, grab the keys from Lucy¡¯s hand, and slot them into the ignition.

    And then¡ªjust like that¡ªI know how to drive this thing. The Villefort Alvarado V4F 570 Delegate. Every detail of its handling, its weight, its acceleration¡ªit¡¯s all in my head now.

    How? Probably the symbiote. But it¡¯s damn good to know.

    Why? Because Maxim is staring straight at us.

    ¡°What?! Who the hell¡ªYou!¡± His glare locks onto me.

    I do the only reasonable thing: slam the gas pedal hard. Not all the way¡ªbecause if I did, I¡¯d probably break the damn thing. Maybe punch a hole through the floor while I¡¯m at it.

    Anyway¡ª

    The car jerks forward, tires struggling for grip before catching the asphalt. Kiwi and Sasha barely make it into the back seat before we rocket down the street. Not clean, though. Maxim is already barking into his phone, calling every suit he¡¯s got to flatline us before we get too far.

    I take a few sharp turns, drifting just enough to keep control while throwing off any tail we might have. The city blurs past in streaks of neon and concrete.

    ¡°Where to?¡± I glance at the rearview mirror.

    ¡°Here.¡± Lucy pings a location. A yard¡ªclose, but the problem is the route.

    The highway. The main artery of Night City, linking every district¡ªincluding the corpo one. And parked right there, waiting for us like the grim reaper itself, is an AV.

    Yeah, time to delta.

    The AV opens fire the second we hit the ramp. I swerve, weaving between other cars, using them as impromptu shields. Screams and honking erupt behind us. Sorry, folks, better me than you.

    Lucy¡¯s busy cracking Maxim¡¯s car system. Kiwi and Sasha shift their focus to making sure the incoming bullets hit someone else. My job? Keep us moving and not get ventilated.

    And then some gonk in the AV gets a bright idea¡ªgrenade launcher.

    I barely dodge an explosion right in front of us, swerving so hard the car nearly goes sideways.

    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re driving!¡± Kiwi snaps at me, probably for the first time ever.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± My voice is more amused than anything.

    Sasha leans out the window, SMG barking. One of the AV shooters goes down, his body going flat on the street in a pool of red. The other one? Still a problem, since he can still shoot us, not to mention the driver of the AV.

    ¡°Go through the tunnel,¡± Maine orders over comms. ¡°Dorio, Pilar, and I will set up an ambush while you pass.¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡± I yank the wheel, sending us onto the tunnel entrance.

    Kiwi does something¡ªI don¡¯t ask questions¡ªbecause the AV suddenly coughs smoke and stops firing.

    ¡°There! Bought us some time. Get ready, Maine!¡±

    The tunnel swallows us in darkness, the only light coming from the entrance and the dim glow of overhead lamps. I weave through traffic, slipping past slower cars without issue. So far, so good.

    Then comes the kicker¡ªthe exit.

    The AV is waiting for us, hovering like a hungry predator, ready to light us up the second we break cover. I grip the wheel, about to gear down and push the engine to its absolute limit¡ª

    BOOM

    Maine, Dorio, and Pilar beat me to it.

    A rocket screams through the air and slams right into the AV. Fire and debris rain down, the explosion roaring over us as we cut through the smoke like something out of a preem action flick. I yank the wheel, throwing the car into a sharp drift before coming to a stop.

    The AV keeps coughing out smaller explosions in the distance. It¡¯s done for.

    Falco¡¯s van is parked right beside the tunnel, and the rest of the crew piles in without hesitation. Maine gives me a wave-off, signaling that my job¡¯s done. I take the cue and steer toward the yard.

    ¡°Well, that could¡¯ve gone smoother,¡± I say, half-laughing.

    The deadpan stares I get in response tell me I should¡¯ve just kept my mouth shut.

    ¡°David,¡± Lucy speaks up.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re never driving.¡±

    ¡°But I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Never,¡± Kiwi cuts in.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Sasha shakes her head, barely hiding a smirk.

    The rest of the ride is very very quiet.

    <hr>

    Despite the car being taken and the data secured, Faraday, the fixer who had hired Maine¡¯s crew, wasn¡¯t pleased with the outcome. He¡¯d wanted the job done clean, quiet, and flawless¡ªexactly as he¡¯d planned. But his employees had decided to do things their way, mucking up most of his careful calculations.

    Well, not muck up¡ªmore like postpone things.

    But Faraday was patient. He knew when to strike and when to wait. It was better to keep an entire crew of eight Edgerunners happy than waste resources trying to wipe them out.

    ¡°But we gave you the car,¡± Maine grumbled, clearly irritated by the news of his reduced pay, "And it would be nice to have more information on the Gig before doing it."

    ¡°The car is useless to me,¡± Faraday responded firmly, like a parent scolding a child, ¡°All I needed was the data. You had all the information you ever needed and the car just brings too much heat for my operations. I could very well withhold payment, but, as a man of principle, I¡¯ll still pay you.¡±

    His optics flickered gold as the payment went through.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch for future opportunities. But I won¡¯t tolerate any more failures.¡±

    ¡°What about the car?¡± Maine pressed, ¡°It¡¯s worth a lot. Should make this investment more profitable.¡±

    ¡°Are you deaf?¡± Faraday snapped, his four optics locking onto Maine¡¯s, their glare piercing deep. ¡°The car is useless to me. I¡¯ve got a better way of getting around already.¡±

    Without another word, Faraday left, leaving the crew standing there in stunned silence. It wasn¡¯t every day a corpo actually kept their end of the bargain.

    ¡°Did he¡­?¡± Pilar began.

    ¡°¡­give the car to us?¡± David finished.

    ¡°Can we keep it?¡± Sasha asked.

    ¡°No.¡± Maine shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice.

    ¡°Ow¡­¡± the three of them groaned in unison.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± Rebecca asked as she finally made her way to the yard. ¡°This car¡¯s too expensive, too flashy for us. I say we scrap it for eddies.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m with you on that,¡± Dorio agreed, ¡°Best to keep the heat off of us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Maine¡¯s call, chooms,¡± Falco chimed in, ¡°For all we know, he might decide to keep it.¡±

    ¡°Very funny,¡± Maine smirked, ¡°But yeah, scrap it. Kiwi, you handle that for us?¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Kiwi replied with her usual tired tone.

    The crew scattered, each heading to their assigned tasks, the weight of the day still hanging over them. Faraday¡¯s words lingered in the air, but the immediate problem was the car. Kiwi climbed into the driver¡¯s seat, starting the engine with a resigned sigh. The rest of the crew gathered around as the once-prized vehicle was stripped down piece by piece.

    Maine leaned against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold, arms crossed. ¡°It¡¯s funny how everything¡¯s always about the job, but we still end up cleaning up the mess afterward.¡± He chuckled to himself, but it was a bitter sound.

    ¡°Better this way,¡± Pilar muttered, taking a last look at the car. ¡°Faraday might be paying us, but I wouldn¡¯t want to walk around with that kind of heat on us.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± David nodded, wiping some grease off his hands. ¡°Can I take some parts for me?¡±

    ¡°All profits are shared equally, so yeah.¡±

    ¡°Preem.¡±

    The car slowly became a shell, its shiny exterior now reduced to raw parts and components, everything valuable stripped away. The entire process took a couple of hours, but when Kiwi finally gave the signal that it was done, the yard was filled with the hum of machinery and quiet chatter.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Kiwi said, standing up and dusting her hands off. ¡°It¡¯s ready to go. Some of it¡¯s salvageable; the rest can be sold for parts.¡±

    ¡°Good work,¡± Maine said, his eyes scanning the yard. The crew had done their job, and Faraday¡¯s money was now in their hands, but it didn¡¯t feel like a win.

    ¡°Now what?¡± Dorio asked, looking at Maine. ¡°We head back to base, or do we have something else in mind?¡±

    Maine paused, considering. ¡°We lay low for a while. Faraday¡¯s not the kind to forget a failure, even if he says he¡¯ll ¡®keep in touch.¡¯ We¡¯ve got a few things to sell, and I think it¡¯s time we take a step back, let the heat die down.¡±

    Everyone nodded, the plan set. The crew started gathering their things, ready to move on to the next job, even if the taste of this one left them all wanting.

    With the car now a distant memory, the crew filed into the van, the road ahead uncertain but at least free from immediate danger. Faraday may have kept his word, but they knew the world didn¡¯t operate on principles. Not for long, anyway.

    For now, though, they had the edge¡ªand it was time to play it.

 Chapter 49: Cyberpsychosis

    David Martinez

    The gig was over, and I headed back home¡ªmy new home, also known as Vik¡¯s Clinic. First thing I did was take a shower, then crash on the couch in the living room, flipping through trashy shows on the TV. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a plain shirt, making myself comfortable. The couch smelled off¡ªnot quite ass, but not great either. Still, I didn¡¯t care enough to move. My bare feet swung lazily over the edge as I scrolled through the watchlist. Thanks to Vik and Vomi actually paying for the premium subscriptions, I could binge without getting interrupted by annoying ads.

    After a while, Ciri walked in, carrying a pot. I glanced over and quickly realized what was inside¡ªquesadillas, except they looked¡­ sad.

    ¡°What you eating?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Tortillas,¡± she replied, her accent almost making me do a double take.

    ¡°What¡¯s inside them?¡±

    ¡°Ham and cheese.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She took a bite, unfazed. ¡°Want some?¡±

    I stared at the plate, unimpressed. ¡°This might be the most depressing quesadilla I¡¯ve ever seen in my life.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take three, please.¡±

    She handed me my share, and we settled in to watch a documentary about the Amazon rainforest¡ªor what was left of it before the twenty-first century took its toll.

    ¡°Did you know it was once called the Lung of the World?¡± Ciri said between bites. ¡°Apparently, it produced a huge percentage of the oxygen for the entire planet.¡±

    I chewed on my sad excuse for a quesadilla, staring at the screen as footage of lush green canopies transitioned to bleak, barren wastelands. ¡°Yeah, and now it¡¯s just another desert.¡±

    Ciri nodded, washing down her food with a sip of some mystery drink she brought with her. ¡°Corporations stripped it clean. Timber, oil, biochemicals¡ªwhatever they could sell, they took.¡± She gestured at the screen. ¡°Then they tried to fix it by planting synthetic trees, but those didn¡¯t last long.¡±

    The documentary droned on about how biotech firms attempted to ¡®rebuild¡¯ the ecosystem, only for their engineered plants to either die off or mutate into something worse. Classic corpo thinking¡ªdestroy nature, then try to replace it with something ¡®better¡¯ that only makes things worse.

    I finished my food and leaned back into the couch, exhaling. ¡°Think anyone alive today even remembers what it was really like?¡±

    Ciri shrugged. ¡°Doubt it. Maybe some old-timers, but they probably just tell stories about it now. Like legends.¡±

    ¡°Legends¡­¡± I echoed, staring at the screen but not really watching anymore.

    She gave me a look. ¡°What, getting all philosophical now?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Just thinking about how much shit gets lost over time. Places, people¡­ memories.¡±

    For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the TV narrating how climate shifts and corporate greed turned a once-thriving ecosystem into a wasteland.

    Ciri stretched, tossing the pot onto the coffee table. ¡°Kinda depressing. You wanna watch something else?¡±

    I grabbed the remote. ¡°Yeah¡­ something with explosions.¡±

    ¡°People here don¡¯t go outside much, huh?¡± Ciri murmured.

    ¡°Yeah, not really. Can¡¯t risk catching a bullet,¡± I said as a podcast started playing on the broadcast, something about racing tracks in Europe. I glanced at her. ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen most of you leave the clinic.¡±

    ¡°Vik doesn¡¯t because his whole life is here. I don¡¯t because I¡¯m studying,¡± Ciri said, setting the pot down on the table. ¡°Vomi, though? Nie jestem pewien, dlaczego.¡±

    Even though she spoke Polish, I got the gist¡ªshe didn¡¯t know why Vomi never left either.

    ¡°Speaking of, what does she even do in that office? She¡¯s always in there, tinkering with chemicals, fluids, some chrome now and then. But aside from that?¡±

    Ciri shrugged. ¡°Your guess is as good as mine. Wanna check it out?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Meanwhile, find something for us to watch before I crash.¡± I tossed her the remote.

    She caught it without even looking. Nova.

    I made my way to Vomi¡¯s office and knocked a few times. The fact that she used a regular door instead of a sliding one always amused me, but I filed that thought away for later. No answer. I knocked again. Still nothing.

    So, naturally, I let myself in.

    Empty.

    The office was cluttered with paperwork¡ªboth digital and physical¡ªchems, and other utensils I was still getting familiar with. But no sign of Vomi.

    ¡°Huh.¡±

    I headed back to the couch.

    ¡°Find what you were looking for?¡± Ciri asked, aggressively flipping through channels like she was trying to speedrun entertainment.

    ¡°No. Vomi¡¯s not in her office.¡± I shot a glance at the remote, which was barely surviving her button-mashing. ¡°Find anything good?¡±

    ¡°Right about¡­ now.¡± She stopped on a show about an Old West gang on the run.

    ¡°That looks old,¡± I said, sinking into the couch. ¡°But still better than watching the once-great Amazon Forest turn into a cautionary tale.¡±

    ¡°To me, it looks less updated than the world outside,¡± Ciri muttered, shaking her head. ¡°Wanna watch it?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    <hr>

    BANG

    "Vomi" shot a gonk dead in the middle of the street, not bothering with bystanders or witnesses. The idiot had been eyeing her hungrily, probably thinking he''d get lucky just because she looked good. She wasn¡¯t in the mood to entertain some random punk on his way to rob people. His corpse had Valentino tats, but that didn¡¯t matter. Just another low-level scum who thought with his dick. No one would care.

    She dropped the revolver¡ªhis, not hers¡ªand kept walking through Night City, the same way she had been for the past few days.

    What was she doing? Trying to kill time.

    Flatlining gonks, stripping their credchips, eddies, drugs, and rides, selling off what she didn¡¯t need. Maybe picking a fight or two, just to break the monotony. Nothing challenged her enough to be fun, so eventually, she got bored of even that. And when boredom hit? There was only one thing left to do.

    Hit a nightclub.

    Or at least, as close as you could get in Night City. With everyone here addicted to BDs, finding a place to drink, dance, and party¡ªwithout the usual overdose of sex and violence¡ªtook some effort. But she knew one spot that fit the bill.

    Red Dirt.

    The place where Samurai had their first-ever gig. A haven for rockerboys and misfits who wanted to be themselves, free from corpos and their bullshit.

    Yeah. That was more like it.

    When "Vomi" arrived, all eyes were on her. Side glances, whispered comments, the usual wary looks. Probably because they assumed she was an Exotic or maybe even part of the Animals. Given her frame and features, it wasn¡¯t the worst guess.

    The bouncer stepped in her way, arms crossed, giving her the classic I don¡¯t like you stare.

    "Yes?" She met his gaze with thinly veiled annoyance. "May I come in?"

    "What guarantee do I have that you won¡¯t cause trouble?" He squared his shoulders, trying to seem bigger.

    Considering her height, it wasn¡¯t working.

    "The same guarantee you have that gangs won¡¯t start shooting each other over the dumbest shit," she said, flicking her tail. "Look, I just want to have some fun, alright?"

    His optics flared blue as he ran a scan, only for his expression to shift when nothing came up.

    "You¡¯re an Exotic," he said at last. "I can¡¯t scan you."

    "Thanks for noticing!" She flashed a sharp-toothed grin, teeth shark-like and gleaming under the neon lights. "So, can I come in now? Please?"

    The bouncer frowned. He had no real reason to turn her away.

    "Don¡¯t cause trouble."

    "Finally," she exhaled, stepping inside with an eager grin.

    The place was packed.

    A band was playing in the background, something that felt like grunge but with a distinct cyberpunk twist. It wasn¡¯t bad. She wasn¡¯t here to critique music, anyway. She was here to escape the crushing monotony of being the backseat watcher. For once, she was in control. She could do something. She could be here. Not locked away. Here.

    Before hitting the floor, she made a quick detour to the bathroom. Predictably filthy. The symbiote absorbed her leather jacket, leaving her in just the tank top underneath¡ªlow-cut, clinging, drawing attention in all the right ways.

    "Huh. Didn¡¯t really notice until now," she murmured to herself. "Whatever. This¡¯ll do."

    She stepped back out, music flooding her ears again.

    And this time, people were staring.

    She was fabulous.

    Chrome or not, hot people always turned heads. And right now, she was the hottest thing in the market¡ªjudging by the way both men and women couldn¡¯t stop looking.

    And she was loving it.

    The way eyes lingered, the way conversations faltered mid-sentence as people turned to watch her move¡ªit was electric.

    She stepped deeper into the bar, letting the music thrum through her bones, head swaying slightly to the beat. Some corpos and mercs kept their distance, like they could smell the danger rolling off her. Others¡ªgonks with more confidence than sense¡ªkept stealing glances, trying to size her up.

    A few were already planning their approach. She could feel it.

    Perfect.

    She slid up to the bar, tapping the counter with a knuckle. The bartender, a grizzled old dude with cybernetic arms that had seen better days, barely looked up.

    ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡±

    "Something strong." She flashed a grin. "And make it quick."

    A shot glass clinked down in front of her, filled to the brim with something neon blue. She downed it in one go, feeling the burn trail down her throat, then slammed the glass back onto the counter with a satisfied sigh.

    "Keep ¡®em coming."

    Before the bartender could respond, she felt someone step into her space. A guy¡ªlean, cocky, chrome along his jaw glinting in the light. His confidence was almost endearing. Almost.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you around before,¡± he said, voice smooth like he practiced it in a mirror.

    She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze, lips curling into a smirk.

    "That¡¯s ¡®cause you haven¡¯t been looking hard enough."

    That threw him off for a second, but he recovered quickly. "You got a name, or do I gotta make one up?"

    She chuckled, picking up her next shot but not drinking it just yet. "Oh, you definitely gotta work for it."

    That got a grin out of him. "Fair enough. Can I buy you a drink?"

    She downed the second shot, setting the glass down with a click. "You can try."

    The guy waved at the bartender, and the game began.

    Everyone was in awe as the purple tailed woman could just turn five bottles of whiskey without any trouble, or how she didn''t even look fazed as the people stumbled while trying to challenge her to see how much they could drink, thinking they could beat her. "Vomi" found this all amusing, even more when people were starting to be more at ease in her presence.

    One even challenged her to a different game, given that drinking was out of the question.

    "Alright, alright," a stocky guy with a cyberarm slurred, clearly already a few shots past his limit. "You win the drinkin¡¯ contest, fine¡ªbut let¡¯s see how you handle somethin¡¯ with a little more skill."

    ¡°Vomi¡± arched a brow, swirling the last remnants of whiskey in her glass. "Oh? And what¡¯s that?"

    The guy smirked, then turned and pointed toward a small setup in the corner¡ªa dartboard, glowing under flickering neon.

    "Darts," he declared, cracking his knuckles like he just announced a duel to the death. "Winner gets free drinks for the rest of the night, loser buys everyone a round."

    The bar erupted into cheers at that, eager for the chance to drink on someone else¡¯s tab.

    "Vomi" took one last sip, then stood up, her tail swaying lazily behind her. "You really wanna do this, choom?"

    "You scared?" the guy taunted.

    She chuckled. "No. Just tryin¡¯ to decide if I should go easy on you or not."

    The crowd whooped and hollered as the two walked over to the dartboard. The challenger, clearly thinking this was his moment to shine, grabbed a dart and spun it between his fingers before throwing.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    It hit¡ªjust barely¡ªthe outer bullseye. Not bad, not great. But to the already tipsy onlookers, it was a legendary shot.

    He turned to her with a smug grin. "Beat that."

    "Vomi" didn¡¯t even respond. She just grabbed a dart, flicked it lazily between her fingers, and then¡ªwithout even looking¡ªthrew it over her shoulder.

    Dead center. Bullseye.

    The bar went wild.

    "Damn!"

    "Choom, she didn¡¯t even aim!"

    "That¡¯s preem-tier chrome or some crazy-ass luck!"

    Her opponent¡¯s confidence wavered. He grabbed another dart, took a deep breath, and threw¡ªthis time missing the bullseye completely, landing just outside the inner ring.

    He turned, lips pressed into a thin line. "Alright, your turn¡ª"

    Before he could finish, she flicked another dart over her shoulder.

    Another bullseye.

    The crowd lost it.

    The guy groaned, rubbing his face. "Okay, okay, I get it! You win, alright?!"

    She smirked, taking a victory bow before swiping a free drink from a passing tray. "Told ya," she teased, sipping with satisfaction.

    The loser sighed and turned to the bartender. "A round for everyone," he grumbled.

    The cheers doubled in volume.

    And just like that, "Vomi" had gone from an exotic outsider to the star of the Red Dirt¡¯s night.

    Next thing in the list? Singing.

    And oh boy, did she sing.

    Since this was a Rockerboy Bar, and the Samurai did their gigs here back in the day, why not sing something they played?

    Chippin'' In was queued, "Vomi" jumping on the stage as the singer and some eager people that actually knew how to play the song came for the other instruments.

    As the opening riff of Chippin¡¯ In ripped through the speakers, the energy in Red Dirt surged like a wave. "Vomi" grabbed the mic, flashing a sharp-toothed grin at the crowd.

    "Can you feel it? Get ready ¡®cause here we go!¡±

    The bar exploded. Cheers, hollers, fists pumping in the air. Even the skeptical ones who had been giving her side-eyes before were now caught in the rush, vibing to the sheer power in her voice.

    She didn¡¯t just sing¡ªshe owned it. Her voice was raw, full of an edge that made it sound dangerously good. The guys on the instruments kept up, clearly feeding off the electricity of the moment. The drummer slammed down the beats hard, the lead guitar wailed in perfect sync, and the bassline thumped deep enough to rattle the walls.

    "Sing this song¡ªI''m chippin'' in! Mayhem flows!"

    Someone started a mosh pit. A real one. Bodies crashed into each other, wild and free, living that pure Night City thrill. The flashing neon, the sweat, the sound¡ªeverything was alive.

    And "Vomi"? She was glowing.

    This wasn¡¯t just fun anymore. This was her fucking night.

    The moment, the music, the eyes locked on her with admiration, lust, envy, awe¡ªit was all exactly as it should be. No hiding, no shadows. Just the feeling of being.

    By the time the last note rang out and the song crashed to its end, the entire bar was screaming.

    "Encore!" someone shouted.

    "Vomi" smirked, tossing her hair back as she leaned into the mic.

    "Hell yeah."

    Another song was queued.

    And the night?

    It was just getting started.

    After that, everyone took a shot at hitting on ¡°Vomi¡±. She just smiled, amused that these gonks actually thought they had a chance. Not that she was here to judge¡ªwell, not right now at least. The least she could do was tease them a little, see how they handled it.

    ¡°Babe, I swear, I¡¯d have you going crazy for five hours straight,¡± a punk with a mohawk and way too many piercings bragged, leaning in like he actually had something to offer.

    Vomi sighed, slow and sultry. ¡°Choom, you wouldn¡¯t last five minutes.¡±

    The crowd around them erupted. Gasps, whoops, trash talk¡ªhalf the people were laughing, the other half egging the poor guy on.

    ¡°Dude, you gotta take that challenge!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! You can¡¯t let her punk you out like that!¡±

    Vomi dragged a single finger from the man¡¯s belly up to his chin, watching his confidence waver. ¡°Wanna test it out?¡±

    Before he could even sputter out an answer, she grabbed his hand and pulled him outside. It didn¡¯t matter where they went to have sex¡ªthis wasn¡¯t about him. This was about making sure everyone knew the truth. She wasn¡¯t someone they could tame. If they wanted a shot, it was by her rules.

    The crowd buzzed with disbelief, some laughing, others shaking their heads. The guy¡¯s friends were wide-eyed, already placing bets on how it¡¯d turn out.

    And sure enough¡ªfive minutes later, ¡°Vomi¡± was back. Alone.

    Spinning the gonk¡¯s underwear around her finger.

    ¡°No fucking way!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane!¡±

    ¡°Absolute legend!¡±

    Vomi tossed the undergarment over her shoulder and snatched a full bottle of champagne from a nearby table. ¡°Next round, please!¡±

    The night blurred into a haze of music and chaos. Other people took the stage, playing everything from rock to synthwave, while the bar turned into a riot of headbanging, drunken brawls, and full-throttle insanity. Fights broke out inside and outside Red Dirt, and Vomi joined in whenever she felt like it¡ªnot even bothering to dodge. None of them could actually hurt her, and besides, taking a hit every now and then just made things more fun.

    By the time she finally stumbled out of the bar with a group of chooms she barely knew, Red Dirt was even more alive than when she arrived. The whole place thrived on the energy she left behind, like she¡¯d set the whole night on fire and walked away without looking back.

    Outside, a row of sports cars lined the curb, engines growling, waiting for something stupid to happen.

    ¡°Hey, choom,¡± a girl slurred between burps, ¡°you got a name we can call you?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s tail flicked, curling up to her chin like a finger tapping in thought. Then, with a slow, wicked grin, she bared her shark-like teeth.

    ¡°Call me Poison.¡±

    A guy whistled. ¡°Shit, alright!¡± He stumbled into the passenger seat of a Quadra, throwing the door open. ¡°Take the wheel! We got a race to win!¡±

    Poison chuckled, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°For sure.¡±

    As soon as the door slammed shut, she gunned the engine. The Quadra launched forward, tires screaming, the other cars barely keeping up as she tore through the neon-drenched streets of Night City. The so-called ¡°co-pilot¡± scrambled to ping the race location, but she was already driving like the race had started ten minutes ago.

    Her tail flicked effortlessly between the gears of the custom manual transmission, leaving her hands free to keep a vice grip on the wheel.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± her passenger yelled as she drifted a sharp corner, tires kissing the edge of disaster. ¡°How the fuck do you do that?!¡±

    Poison just grinned.

    ¡°Lots of practice.¡±

    She lied. Of course, she did. No way in hell was she going to tell them this was just her biology¡ªthat she was Klyntar. Symbiote or not, the truth wasn¡¯t on the table.

    Not that her company seemed to care.

    ¡°Hell yeah! Keep at it!¡±

    Poison glanced at the rearview mirror, locking eyes with her own reflection¡ªjust in time to see her eyes glitch.

    She scoffed and slammed the accelerator harder.

    By the time they arrived at the race location, two other cars were already there, engines rumbling, their drivers leaning against the hoods like they had something to prove.

    The guy next to her turned serious for the first time all night. ¡°Heads up, choom. This race? We can use our iron. So don¡¯t get spooked if some gonks decide to shoot at us for being too good.¡±

    Poison let out a sharp laugh. ¡°I¡¯m way too drunk to care!¡±

    Total bullshit, of course. She¡¯d need to down an entire barrel just to feel a buzz these days, and even then, it might slightly slow her reflexes.

    Considering she could fight people using Sandevistans, though? Slightly wasn¡¯t much.

    ¡°Yeah! Me too!¡± The guy whooped, then glanced at his holo. ¡°Oh, the others are rolling up. I¡¯ll get the GPS set.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    The race was a sprint¡ªArroyo to North Oak. Short, high-speed, no time for screw-ups. And with the monster of a car she was driving? She knew she could win without even thinking about pulling a gun.

    But where the hell was the fun in that?

    Poison revved the engine, feeling the vibrations rumble through her bones, her tail flicking in anticipation. The other racers lined up beside her, their rides gleaming under the dim glow of Night City¡¯s streetlights. Chrome, matte black, neon accents¡ªevery car here was a reflection of its driver¡¯s soul.

    And Poison? She was driving something stolen. Didn¡¯t even know the make. Didn¡¯t care. It purred under her command, and that was all that mattered.

    The organizer, a scrawny fixer type with a cybernetic jaw, stepped in front of the lineup, raising a neon baton. ¡°Alright, listen up, gonks! No rules¡ªjust the finish line. First one to North Oak wins. If you get flatlined, well¡­ try not to bleed on the road, yeah?¡±

    The crowd hollered, engines revved, and fingers twitched over triggers.

    Poison grinned.

    The baton dropped.

    Engines roared to life.

    Tires screeched as metal beasts lunged forward, leaving behind trails of fire and smoke. Poison''s grip was steady, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the gears with her tail like it was second nature. The others scrambled for position, but she was already weaving through them, her reaction time inhumanly fast.

    ¡°Shit, you¡¯re a beast at this!¡± her passenger shouted over the roar of the wind.

    Poison smirked, then caught movement in the mirror.

    One of the racers¡ªa sleek Shion with gang tags sprayed across the hood¡ªwas rolling up fast. Muzzle flash.

    Gunfire.

    Bullets sparked against the frame of her car.

    Her passenger ducked. ¡°Fuck! We got shooters!¡±

    Poison didn¡¯t flinch.

    She just grinned wider.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give ¡¯em a reason to aim better.¡±

    And with that, she yanked the wheel hard¡ªright into the bastard¡¯s lane.

    The other driver slammed the brakes, but the car behind him had no time to react. In the blink of an eye, the two vehicles collided, spinning out of control as Poison¡¯s maneuver took them both down¡ªno bullets fired, just pure chaos. She didn¡¯t slow down, though. Instead, she eased her car back, letting the smoke clear, and reached over to the passenger.

    ¡°Give me a gun.¡±

    The passenger didn¡¯t hesitate, handing her a Burya. The heavy recoil from the weapon would normally be enough to rattle most people, but for Poison? It was nothing. She could take the kickback of a tank if she wanted to.

    A second car tried to make a run for it, but instead of making a clean pass, they opened fire.

    Poison¡¯s lips curled into a wicked smile.

    She didn¡¯t even flinch as she raised the Burya, pulled the trigger, and the deafening bang echoed through the night. A sniper¡¯s shot wasn¡¯t nearly as loud, but it was enough to make anyone freeze. The Burya was louder than that. The bullet landed square on the front right tire, and with a sickening screech, the car lost control and smashed into the nearest lamppost.

    The other racers were starting to figure out something was off. The way Poison handled that gun wasn¡¯t just skilled¡ªit was unnatural. They immediately started shooting at each other, avoiding her entirely.

    Poison pouted, her grin turning playful. ¡°Ow, that¡¯s not fair.¡± She clicked her tongue. ¡°Where¡¯s the fun in that?¡±

    ¡°You want more?!¡± her passenger gasped, his voice laced with both awe and fear. ¡°You¡¯re an adrenaline junkie, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Poison chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the car. ¡°You have no idea.¡± She shifted gears, the car roaring as she accelerated once more, feeling the rush of speed flood her senses. The world outside blurred into streaks of neon and asphalt as she let the engine scream. The other drivers were scrambling now, trying to avoid her, but Poison was already in her element.

    Another car pulled up beside her, trying to match her pace, but they weren¡¯t fast enough. She eyed them briefly, then glanced down at the Burya in her hand.

    This will be fun.

    She raised the pistol again, taking aim. The moment they swerved to cut in front of her, she pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted through her hand, but it didn¡¯t faze her as the bullet hit its mark¡ªa direct strike to the engine block.

    The car sputtered and smoked, veering off into the side, its engine shot dead. The driver¡¯s terrified face was just visible through the cracked windshield before they slammed into the curb. Poison didn¡¯t even look at them as she sped past, grinning wider.

    The passenger, barely holding onto his seat, looked at her in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re insane!¡± he shouted, half impressed, half terrified.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Poison replied with a wink, hands steady on the wheel. ¡°But this is the only way to really live.¡±

    Ahead, the finish line was in sight, but she wasn¡¯t ready to stop just yet. The challenge was too good, and the adrenaline was pulsing through her veins. She wasn¡¯t going to win by simply crossing the line¡ªshe was going to own it.

    Poison tapped his shoulder. ¡°Got a cigar?¡±

    A pause. ¡°...What?¡±

    ¡°For me,¡± she said with a grin.

    ¡°I do, but¡­ why?¡± He looked at her like she¡¯d just asked for a rocket launcher.

    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°To smoke it?¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­?¡± He handed it over, still baffled.

    She slipped it between her lips, then focused on the road. As the car approached the finish line, she yanked the wheel, sending it into a flawless drift. Just as the tires screeched, she kicked open the driver¡¯s door and stepped out, letting the car slide the last few meters on its own. Without missing a beat, she struck a match, lit the cigar, and took a slow, satisfied drag.

    The car came to a perfect stop just as she exhaled the first puff of smoke.

    The crowd at the finish line?

    Their reactions were priceless.

    ¡°Fuck yeah!¡±

    ¡°Straight out of an action BD!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s some legend-tier shit, choom!¡±

    Poison inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, then burst into laughter¡ªso hard she actually coughed. This was it. The most fun she¡¯d had in months¡ªmaybe in her entire life. And to think she had wasted time in that damn clinic, drowning in theories and plans, trying to figure out how to control herself.

    Nah, fuck that.

    There was a difference between being alive and actually living.

    Her gaze caught on a storefront window, her reflection grinning back at her.

    She chuckled, exhaling another puff of smoke. ¡°You miserable sack of shit, get a life, will you?¡±

    Her co-pilot stumbled out of the car, still in shock. ¡°How the fuck did you do that?! That was preem! Straight-up Edgerunner shit!¡±

    Poison smirked, tapping the ash off her cigar. ¡°Oh, choom, that was nothing.¡± She blew out another stream of smoke. ¡°Just need the right challenge¡­ and a little fun.¡±

    ¡°Should I know you? Feels like I should.¡± The guy looked flustered, like he¡¯d just realized Poison might be some big-name merc.

    ¡°If you knew me, you wouldn¡¯t be alive to tell,¡± she said, taking one last drag from the cigar before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under her boot. ¡°Now, what¡¯s the prize for this¡ª¡±

    ¡°YOU BITCH!¡±

    The entire crowd turned toward the voice. Even the race announcer, who had been about to reveal the prize, hesitated. The buzz of excitement dulled as people stepped closer, curiosity thick in the air.

    The source of the outburst? A heavily chromed-out borg of a man, standing amid the wreckage of twisted metal and smoking debris. His arms cradled what was left of a woman¡ªher upper body burned and mangled beyond recognition. His face was a mask of pure, seething rage, and his cybernetic eyes locked onto Poison like targeting reticles.

    Poison tilted her head, unimpressed. ¡°Do I know you?¡± She stuck a pinkie in her ear, lazily picking at it.

    ¡°We weren¡¯t gonna shoot you!¡± the man screamed, voice shaking with fury. ¡°There¡¯s a code in these streets, you bastard!¡±

    ¡°Code?¡± Poison echoed, her tail flicking from side to side in amusement. ¡°Choom, I think you¡¯ve been spending too much time in the cyberspace.¡±

    ¡°If we don¡¯t shoot when we overtake, you don¡¯t shoot back! That¡¯s the rule, you moron!¡± He held the ruined corpse tighter, his whole frame trembling with grief and fury. ¡°My wife died in that crash! I¡¯m gonna fucking kill you!¡±

    Poison¡¯s co-pilot blinked. ¡°Your wife died in a race where we can use iron?¡± He looked genuinely confused. ¡°How the hell is that our problem?¡±

    BANG.

    That was the last thing the co-pilot ever heard before a bullet tore through his skull.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Poison muttered, watching his body crumple. ¡°Now that¡¯s a damn shame.¡±

    She barely had time to process it before another shot slammed into her chest. The impact sent her sprawling to the pavement. The once-hyped crowd turned to chaos, scattering like roaches as gunfire shattered the moment. No one wanted to be next.

    Poison lay there, staring up at the murky, light-polluted sky of Night City. No stars, just the faint glow of neon bleeding through the smog. Wasn¡¯t much of a view.

    The borg loomed over her, a shadow against the city¡¯s dull glow. Without hesitation, he raised both pistols and emptied them into her body. Each shot thundered through the street. One magazine, then another. Blood¡ªdeep, dark purple¡ªsplattered across the asphalt, pooling beneath her like spilled oil.

    It wasn¡¯t enough. He reloaded. Fired again.

    By the time he was done, he was panting, shaking, his fingers still twitching as his weapons clicked empty.

    ¡°I hope you burn in hell,¡± he spat, holstering his pistols.

    His attention shifted to what was left of his wife. Carefully, almost reverently, he knelt beside her, gathering pieces of scrap to form a makeshift cross. It wasn¡¯t much, wasn¡¯t enough¡ªnot for what she deserved¡ªbut it was all he could offer. She had given him everything. And, like all things in Night City, it ended in death.

    A wet cough rasped behind him.

    ¡°Man,¡± Poison groaned, voice thick with amusement, ¡°I wish I could go to hell.¡±

    He turned, his breath hitching when he saw her¡ªcrouched beside him, untouched, watching his wife¡¯s remains with nothing more than fleeting curiosity.

    ¡°H-how?¡±

    Shock froze him for only a second before fury overtook him again. This time, he abandoned his guns, drawing a katana in a smooth, practiced motion. He swung.

    Poison sidestepped lazily.

    ¡°I wonder who she was,¡± she mused, effortlessly dodging each strike. ¡°Must¡¯ve been important for you to lose your shit like this.¡±

    The borg snarled, feinting right before driving the blade forward in a sudden thrust. This time, she didn''t dodge. The katana pierced through her chest, straight through where her heart should be. A perfect kill.

    He let out a shaky breath. That¡¯s it. No one survives that.

    Poison exhaled sharply, glancing down at the sword protruding from her torso. Then, with an almost bored expression, she met his gaze with a mildly annoyed tone.

    ¡°Could you not?¡±

    His stomach dropped.

    ¡°What?!?¡±

    The borg staggered back, hands gripping the katana¡¯s hilt as if pulling it free would somehow fix what was happening.

    Poison sighed, tilting her head as if he were the one acting strange. ¡°I mean, really. It¡¯s one thing to shoot me¡ªat least that was funny¡ªbut now you¡¯re trying to skewer me like some bad sushi? That¡¯s just... rude.¡±

    With a casual motion, she grabbed the blade, yanking it out of her chest. Blood¡ªpurple, dark, and wrong¡ªsplattered onto the pavement, but Poison didn¡¯t even flinch. She twirled the katana in her grip, testing its weight before giving an approving nod.

    ¡°Nice sword.¡± She smirked. ¡°Mind if I borrow it?¡±

    The borg didn¡¯t respond. He was too busy processing the impossible, his breathing ragged as his cybernetic enhancements tried¡ªand failed¡ªto classify what he was seeing.

    Poison took a step forward. ¡°You were so mad a second ago. What happened?¡±

    He snarled, reaching for his pistols¡ª

    Too late.

    Poison moved in a blink, closing the distance before he could even register it. She grabbed his wrist, twisting with effortless strength. Bones snapped like dry twigs.

    He screamed.

    Poison just laughed. ¡°Now, now. I thought you wanted to kill me?¡±

    His other hand reached for a hidden blade. Poison caught that wrist too, gripping it tight enough that the servos in his cyberarm whined in protest.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the thing,¡± she whispered, leaning in close. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t threaten someone unless you¡¯re sure they can die.¡±

    Her tail lashed out, slamming into his gut. He gagged, eyes going wide as he was lifted off his feet and thrown across the pavement. He hit a wrecked car with a sickening crunch, slumping to the ground in a broken heap.

    Poison watched him struggle, blood pooling beneath his shattered limbs.

    Then she turned, glancing back at his wife¡¯s charred remains.

    ¡°You know,¡± she mused, tapping the katana against her shoulder, ¡°I could do you a favor and send you to join her.¡±

    The borg coughed, trying to push himself up¡ªonly for his broken body to fail him.

    Poison shrugged. ¡°Or not. Honestly? I don¡¯t really care either way.¡±

    She turned, tossing the katana aside like it was worthless, and started walking.

    Behind her, the borg choked out a weak, gasping breath¡ªhalf a curse, half a plea.

    "See ya, lover boy."

    Poison grabbed him by the throat with her chrome arm, lifting him like he weighed nothing.

    Then she started punching.

    Over and over.

    Bone crunched. Skin split. Metal dented.

    And she laughed.

    Loud, wild, unhinged.

    "Hahahaha! I love this!"

    Fist met flesh again and again, turning his face into something unrecognizable. His muffled screams turned to choked gurgles. Then silence.

    Poison paused, blinking.

    "Oh." She tilted her head, pouting. "I think I broke him."

    She shook his limp body a little, as if testing to see if there was anything left. When there wasn¡¯t, she sighed and tossed him aside, letting him collapse next to his wife¡¯s remains.

    "Well, at least they¡¯re together now. How romantic."

    Stretching, she rolled her shoulders, feeling the last of her wounds knit themselves shut. Blood still clung to her skin and clothes, but who cared?

    "Today was fun!"

    She practically skipped back to the Quadra, humming as she hopped inside. The engine roared to life, tires screeching as she peeled out.

    "? Celebrate the good times, c¡¯mon! ?"

    Night City blurred past her as she sped off, disappearing into the neon glow.

    Off to do God knows what.

 Chapter 50: Everybody Wants to Rule the World

    "I don''t remember anything."

    Vomi stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, her head pounding. Had she overdosed on sedatives last night? Or last week? It all blurred together. With a groan, she pressed a hand to her forehead¡ªonly to notice the texture of her skin.

    Purple.

    Her tail was still there too, flicking idly at her side.

    She willed the transformation to recede, but nothing happened. Again, she tried, and again, it refused to listen. That wasn¡¯t normal. Usually, it would subside after a few attempts.

    Sitting up, she took in her surroundings. This definitely wasn¡¯t Night City. The scattered leather clothes, metal scrap furniture, and dry desert air told her she was in a Nomad camp.

    Also, she was naked.

    At least her underwear was still around¡ªthough not on the bed. She grabbed it from the floor, along with a shirt that definitely wasn¡¯t hers, and started dressing. That¡¯s when she noticed the man still asleep beside her.

    Vomi frowned. "Must¡¯ve been a wild night."

    Despite the situation, she felt strangely¡­ at ease. As if she had finally tamed the thing inside her, no longer bottling it up until it exploded. Last time she showed her symbiote form¡ªreally showed it¡ªwas in front of David, and it took all her concentration to keep it in check. But now? Now it just was, and that didn¡¯t bother her as much as it should.

    Brushing off the thought, she stepped out of the tent¡ªa makeshift room built from melted scrap metal¡ªand was immediately greeted by the harsh desert sun. Her eyes adjusted in seconds, scanning the unfamiliar faces of the camp.

    No Nomad clan she recognized. Must¡¯ve been a small one, barely known in Night City or among the bigger Nomad families. But if they were concerned about a stranger in their midst, they didn¡¯t show it.

    Instead, they welcomed her like an old friend.

    "Hey, you''re up!" One of them, a broad-shouldered man, grinned and handed her a bottle. "Have a drink! We ain¡¯t goin¡¯ anywhere, might as well keep the party rollin¡¯!"

    Vomi shook her head with a tired sigh. "Thanks, but my head¡¯s already killing me. I don¡¯t even know where I am right now."

    A woman laughed. "Shit, yeah, you were psycho-crazy yesterday. I mean, everyone wanted a piece of you."

    Vomi narrowed her eyes. "Wanted a piece of me?"

    The woman smirked. "Relax, you only went home with one gonk¡ªwho, by the way, is still passed out in your tent. And don¡¯t tell him I called him a gonk."

    Vomi turned back to the tent. Then to the camp. Then back to the tent.

    Yeah. She definitely fucked the clan¡¯s leader.

    "Fuuuuuuuuuuck..." She groaned, rubbing her temples as her headache somehow got worse.

    "Hey, don''t stress too much. At least Owen will be easier to deal with when he wakes up," one of the Nomads chuckled. "He''s kind of an asshole when he goes too long without getting laid."

    Vomi sighed. "I can only imagine. But¡ªwhere am I?"

    "Just outside of Las Vegas," another Nomad answered casually, biting into a kebab.

    "LAS VEGAS?!" Vomi shot up, eyes wide. "HOW THE FUCK DID I END UP IN NEVADA?!"

    The group collectively winced, covering their ears. She wasn¡¯t the only one nursing a hangover.

    "We ran into you on our way back from a gig in Sacramento," the first guy explained, still offering her a beer. "We passed through Night City, saw you partying, and, well¡­ Owen invited you along. You didn¡¯t exactly resist. Seemed like you needed to cut loose. Not to mention, you''re hot as hell."

    "Thanks..." Vomi muttered flatly, snatching the beer from his hand and chugging it.

    The woman from before raised an eyebrow. "Damn, she¡¯s really thinking hard about all this."

    Vomi finished the bottle in one go and let out a small burp. "Not as strong as I thought it¡¯d be."

    "The fuck?" one of the Nomads blurted. "That¡¯s one of the strongest brews we¡¯ve ever made and sold! What do you drink, rocket fuel?"

    Vomi considered saying yes. Instead, she kept her mouth shut.

    "Anyway," she said, taking a seat near the unlit campfire, "where can I get a ride back home?"

    The kebab guy shrugged. "Might take a while. Half the clan went to LA for supplies. You¡¯ll be here for a few hours, maybe a whole day."

    "But don¡¯t worry," another Nomad grinned. "We barely know each other. Let¡¯s fix that. I¡¯ve never been to Night City¡ªwhat¡¯s it like?"

    Vomi exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Her tail mirrored the motion. "Do yourself a favor. Stay away. That city eats people alive."

    One of the younger Nomads nudged her, eyeing her tail with curiosity. "I gotta say, your tail is preem. How do you even control that? What kind of chrome is it?"

    "That''s a little too personal, don¡¯t you think?" Vomi quipped, wrapping her tail around herself protectively, like a mother shielding her child.

    The Nomad smirked but didn¡¯t push the question. Instead, he asked, "If Night City¡¯s so bad, why are you going back?"

    "Family¡¯s there. Can¡¯t just leave them behind."

    The conversation drifted after that, Vomi explaining the chaos of Night City¡ªwhat she did for work, how the city somehow thrived despite being labeled the worst place to live in North America, and the gangs that ran the streets. In return, the Nomads shared their way of life¡ªjobs, skills, hobbies, and their own brand of lawlessness.

    To Vomi, they were like outlaws straight out of an Old West movie¡ªmoving from place to place, pulling off big scores, keeping tight-knit bonds like one big, chaotic family. Apparently, this particular group had only been together for a few months, calling themselves The Scorpios. Decent name. Generic as hell, but she kept that opinion to herself.

    "A Ripperdoc, scientist, and merc?" one of them asked, impressed. "Gotta say, mad respect, lady."

    "And yet, you still look like that," another Nomad¡ªbigger, but more solid than fat¡ªsaid with a small frown. "I envy you."

    Vomi waved dismissively. "Easier said than done. Gotta work hard to stay in shape."

    That was a complete lie. The symbiote took care of her physique effortlessly, keeping her in peak condition without a second thought. No workouts, no diets¡ªjust biological perfection on autopilot. No need to rub that in, though.

    For a split second, her thoughts flickered to BioTechnica. They¡¯d definitely tried replicating ¡°Past Vomi''s¡± work by now. But as far as ¡°Present Vomi¡± knew? Nothing had come of it.

    "Still," another Nomad chuckled, raising his drink, "good shape¡¯s a good shape."

    Vomi sighed and grabbed another beer, popping the cap off with her thumb before taking a sip. It wasn¡¯t as strong as the drinks she was used to in Night City, but it was decent.

    ¡°So, you guys just roam around, pulling gigs and staying off the grid?¡± she asked, looking around the camp.

    "Pretty much," the first Nomad confirmed. "Jobs here and there¡ªsometimes corpo work, sometimes good ol¡¯ fashioned smuggling. Whatever pays and keeps the engines running."

    "Sounds exhausting," Vomi muttered, stretching her legs.

    The woman from earlier, the one who mentioned Owen, chuckled. "Better than dealing with corpos breathing down your neck twenty-four-seven."

    "Yeah, fair," Vomi admitted.

    She still wasn¡¯t sure how the hell she ended up here, but at least they weren¡¯t trying to kill her. If anything, they seemed too friendly. Maybe it was because of whatever wild shit she pulled last night, or maybe they were just like this. Either way, she needed a plan to get back.

    Owen, the so-called clan leader, was still passed out in her tent. She could probably squeeze some information out of him when he woke up, assuming he wasn¡¯t too much of an asshole.

    As she finished her drink, she felt someone nudge her arm. "Since you¡¯re stuck here for a bit, might as well make yourself useful," the kebab guy said, tossing her a set of keyshards.

    Vomi raised a brow. "What¡¯s this?"

    "Archer¡¯s outta gas. You drive, you siphon."

    She blinked. "You want me to go steal gas?"

    "We call it resourceful acquisition," he grinned.

    Vomi sighed, shaking her head with a frown, "Yeah, alright. Why the hell not?"

    <hr>

    Vomi had to admit¡ªdriving with a tail was a pain in the ass. Literally. No matter how much she shifted in the seat, it still felt awkward, and there was no real way to get comfortable. The Archer Quartz roared as it cut through the desert, carrying her and two Scorpios toward a CHOOH2 station currently occupied by Raffen Shiv.

    According to Jason, who had handed her the keyshard to the Archer before they left, these Raffen had been squatting in the area for a while. Even though the Scorpios were a smaller outfit compared to some of the bigger Nomad clans, dealing with Raffen was always a headache.

    As Vomi parked a safe distance away, Jason sighed. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect this many of ¡®em around here.¡±

    Mark, the other Scorpio, scanned the station and frowned. ¡°At least ten. If we go in guns blazing, they¡¯ll be ready. Their iron¡¯s top-notch¡­ for Raffen, I mean.¡±

    Vomi leaned forward. ¡°I doubt you guys have a rifle with a suppressor, right?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Jason shook his head. ¡°We usually don¡¯t need to. Most of the time, the fight comes to us.¡± Then, after a moment of thought, he added, ¡°We could hack their comms. Send out false alarms, get them to spread out, and pick them off from a distance.¡±

    Mark sighed. ¡°I¡¯m no Netrunner, Jason.¡± Then he turned to Vomi. ¡°You got any quickhacks?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s optics flared crimson for a brief moment. ¡°Yeah. Their firewall and daemons are garbage. Just give me a sec.¡±

    Jason let out a low chuckle. ¡°Ain¡¯t that convenient?¡±

    ¡°Alright, done.¡± Vomi stood up from the driver¡¯s seat as the other two got out. ¡°I can make them spread out. You two handle the rest.¡±

    ¡°Roger.¡± Jason nodded. ¡°Mark, take the left. I¡¯ll go right.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Mark replied firmly.

    Vomi hopped onto the car¡¯s hood, letting them get into position. She tapped into the Raffen¡¯s systems, sending out motion sensor alerts, false maintenance failure notifications, and triggering a few blinking lights to pop. Sure enough, the Raffen got spooked, breaking into smaller groups to investigate.

    From her perch, she counted six outside, five inside, and one lone lookout on the roof. The perfect opening.

    She spotted a rock on the ground, picked it up, and tossed it in the air once to gauge its weight. Too light. Wouldn¡¯t take much effort.

    WHOOSH

    The rock punched through the lookout¡¯s forehead like a bullet, dropping him instantly.

    Less work to do.

    ¡°Got the guy on the roof,¡± Vomi said through her agent, her voice calm. ¡°They¡¯re spreading out. Wait for my signal.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Jason acknowledged.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Mark added.

    The Raffen were so oblivious to their surroundings that Vomi let out a sigh of boredom. Sure, this was the most efficient way to deal with them, but it wasn¡¯t¡­ fun.

    Wait¡­

    When did she start thinking like that? Why was she even thinking like that?

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    She shook her head, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside. Focus.

    Vomi scanned the scene again. Jason could take down at least four before they had a chance to react, same for Mark. That was eight out of ten. That left two, which meant she could dart forward and handle them herself.

    The problem? Those last two were inside the building. The remaining four weren¡¯t moving either¡ªlikely guarding something important. If the Raffen had people stationed outside, that meant whatever was inside was worth protecting. She could use the rock trick again to take out one, but that would alert the other three¡ªassuming Jason and Mark played their part.

    Time to make a call.

    ¡°Take out everyone outside. I¡¯ll handle the ones inside.¡±

    ¡°Just say when,¡± Jason whispered.

    ¡°Ready over here,¡± Mark confirmed.

    Vomi stopped leaning against the car, grabbed two rocks, and took off toward the station.

    ¡°Now!¡±

    Jason fired first, landing clean headshots. Blood sprayed across the sand as bodies dropped. Mark took out three with his pistol, then finished the last one with a knife throw to the throat.

    Vomi closed in, throwing both rocks at the two near the windows. Their skulls caved in on impact, their heads practically bursting from the force. Without stopping, she hammered the door open, her tail whipping forward and coiling around one Raffen¡¯s neck. A sharp twist¡ªsnap. At the same time, her ¡°Monowire¡± sliced clean through the last one¡¯s carotid artery.

    And just like that, it was over. A clean execution.

    ¡°Clear!¡± Vomi called from inside.

    ¡°Clear over here!¡± Jason confirmed.

    ¡°All clear on my end!¡± Mark echoed.

    The three regrouped inside, Vomi¡¯s gaze landing on a heavy safe in the corner¡ªthe very thing the Raffen had been guarding.

    ¡°Oh, would you look at that,¡± Jason said, grinning as he pointed at it. ¡°So that¡¯s what had them holed up in here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get the CHOOH2 filled up¡ªboth the cans and the Archer. You two figure out what¡¯s in that safe,¡± Mark said, already heading outside.

    ¡°Could¡¯ve left one of them breathing,¡± Jason muttered, nudging a corpse with his boot. ¡°Might¡¯ve known the code.¡±

    ¡°No need,¡± Vomi replied, crouching to the safe¡¯s level. ¡°Just a sec.¡±

    She pressed her ear against the metal and turned the combination dial with careful precision. A few rotations later¡ªclick. The safe popped open.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Jason said, mildly impressed.

    Vomi glanced inside and sighed. ¡°Not much of a score. Just some datashards and a few credit shards.¡±

    ¡°Raffen intel is usually useless, yeah,¡± Jason said, scooping up the shards. ¡°But doesn¡¯t hurt to check.¡±

    Slotting them into his neural interface, he skimmed through the contents, letting out the occasional uninterested grunt¡ªuntil something made him whistle.

    ¡°Yeah, most of this is garbage,¡± he said, pulling out one particular shard. ¡°But this one¡¯s got a gig plan.¡±

    Vomi took it and scanned the data. Looked like a simple trade route¡ªa lone merchant running goods to the Aldecaldos. Smuggled or stolen, most likely, but the shard didn¡¯t specify what exactly was in the shipment. The only clear detail was that the trader would be passing through Scorpios territory.

    ¡°Not much to go on,¡± Vomi said, handing it back.

    ¡°That¡¯s for Owen to decide. Either way, solid work here.¡±

    ¡°Cans are full!¡± Mark¡¯s voice carried in from outside. ¡°We¡¯re good to go!¡±

    ¡°Great. I need to get back to my own place,¡± Vomi said, already making her way to the exit.

    Jason followed. ¡°Rest of the shards were just Raffen big shots talking bullshit. Nothing useful¡ªexcept one of them got roasted for chipping a Studd.¡±

    Vomi chuckled. ¡°Poor bastard. Tiny dick joke and morale damage for life.¡±

    ¡°Imagine him becoming their leader. Every argument would turn into a dick joke.¡±

    Laughing, they made their way back to the Archer and started the drive toward camp. The sun had climbed high in the sky¡ªmidday already.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were a Netrunner too,¡± Mark commented, watching the dunes roll past the window. ¡°You wear a lot of hats for someone so young.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t even know half of it,¡± Vomi sighed.

    ¡°Like what?¡± Jason asked, glancing at her.

    ¡°Never mind.¡±

    Vomi pressed the gas pedal a little harder.

    <hr>

    The Scorpios welcomed the group back like they had just returned from a quick grocery run instead of raiding a Raffen station¡ªjust another day in the life of a Nomad. Drinks flowed freely, and Vomi found herself fielding even more questions, both about Night City and the raid she¡¯d just pulled off.

    Then, finally, someone important arrived.

    Owen.

    ¡°Howdy, Owen,¡± one of the Scorpios greeted as he passed by.

    Owen gave a small nod, adjusting his well-worn cowboy hat before turning to the table where everyone was gathered. His gaze landed on Vomi.

    ¡°Hey, girl. Didn¡¯t expect you to still be here.¡± He tipped his hat slightly. ¡°Still, glad to have you around. These fools treating you right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, c¡¯mon, Owen,¡± one of the Scorpios chuckled. ¡°No one¡¯s dumb enough to put themselves between you and your woman.¡±

    ¡°I never said I was his woman.¡± Vomi raised a brow. ¡°It was just a hook-up, nothing more.¡±

    That statement settled into her mind with a strange weight. The male part of her still felt... conflicted about having slept with another man. She didn¡¯t remember it, but the thought of it wasn¡¯t entirely... unwelcomed. Maybe it was because ¡°he¡± had spent eight months living in Vomi¡¯s body, adapting to the life that came with it. But that didn¡¯t erase the past.

    ¡°I know,¡± Owen said, unfazed by the dismissal. He was still grinning. ¡°You were just partying, stress relief and all that. No need to commit to something you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°Shit, the sex must¡¯ve been good for Owen to take it that well.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Owen shot back, jabbing a finger at the offender. ¡°But yeah, it was real intense.¡±

    Vomi felt her face heat up instantly, her purple skin doing little to hide the sudden blush.

    ¡°Oh, look at that¡ªyou got her embarrassed,¡± a woman teased. ¡°Ain¡¯t that cute?¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, enough about my sex life,¡± Owen said, raising his hands to put an end to the teasing. ¡°So, where you headed next? And¡ªsorry if this is rude¡ªbut we never got your name.¡±

    ¡°Vomi,¡± she introduced herself. ¡°And I¡¯m heading back to Night City. My biz is there, my family¡­ my whole life is there.¡±

    ¡°As I mentioned earlier,¡± Jason chimed in, raising a beer bottle to get everyone¡¯s attention, ¡°the rest of the clan is still out gathering supplies. It¡¯ll be a while before you can catch a ride back.¡± He turned to Owen. ¡°Speaking of which, I need to talk to you about a new gig.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Owen¡¯s interest was piqued. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s hear it. Come with me.¡±

    With that, the two men left the table to discuss business, leaving Vomi with the rest of the Scorpios.

    Still slightly flushed, she cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation away from that topic. ¡°S-so¡­ you guys do anything besides drinking around here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, one of us plays guitar,¡± Mark said before turning and calling out, ¡°Hey, Kenny! Get over here¡ªbring your thing!¡±

    ¡°On it!¡± Kenny shouted from the other side of the camp, already grabbing his guitar.

    ¡°G-guitar?¡± Vomi stammered, the word catching her off guard.

    The last time she touched one was back at the studio¡­ and it was impossible not to see their faces¡ªthe faces of The Refused¡ªevery time she picked up an instrument.

    ¡°Yeah, and he¡¯s the only one here who can actually play,¡± Mark said as Kenny sat down at the table.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Kenny greeted, adjusting the guitar on his lap.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Vomi replied, her voice a little distant.

    ¡°Play something for us, will ya?¡± Mark prompted.

    An acoustic guitar at that. Rare thing these days.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Kenny said, fingers strumming a quick test chord. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡±

    As the first chord rang out, Vomi¡¯s black-orange eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. When the first lyrics followed, her hands instinctively covered her mouth¡ªnot to stifle a gasp, but to mask the wave of emotion that hit her like a freight train.

    Kenny was playing Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.

    "Welcome to your life, there''s no turning back¡­"

    Her heart clenched. Tears threatened to spill, but she forced them back. That song¡­ it made her too sentimental. Too vulnerable. The last time she¡¯d heard it, he had been sitting next to his mother, a frail woman wasting away from lung cancer. They would listen to these old tracks together, songs from a world long gone. Take On Me had been her favorite, but this one¡­ this one dragged Vomi straight back to simpler times, when she didn¡¯t have to hide what she was, when she didn¡¯t have to be a monster just to survive.

    Before she even realized it, she was singing along.

    "I can''t stand this indecision, paired with a lack of vision¡­"

    The whole table joined in.

    "Everybody wants to rule the world¡­"

    THUD

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Kenny cursed, nearly jumping as the guitar slipped from his hands and hit the ground. ¡°Please tell me it didn¡¯t break. Acoustic guitars are too expensive.¡±

    Jason picked it up, inspecting the body before handing it back. ¡°No dents, no cracks. You¡¯re good.¡±

    ¡°Damn it. I always mess up that part.¡± Kenny scowled at his fingers, flexing them in frustration.

    That was when they noticed Vomi, sitting silently as tears traced down her face.

    ¡°¡­You good?¡± Kenny asked, concern creeping into his voice.

    She quickly wiped her cheeks. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s nothing. I just¡­ never thought I¡¯d hear Tears for Fears again.¡±

    ¡°You know them?¡± Mark raised a brow. ¡°Didn¡¯t peg someone from the big city to be into a niche song like this.¡±

    ¡°It was my mom¡¯s favorite.¡± Vomi¡¯s voice softened as she looked down. ¡°She loved it. Made me think of her.¡±

    No one needed to ask. Was meant she was gone.

    Kenny gave her a light tap on the shoulder. ¡°Sorry for your loss. Didn¡¯t mean to dig up old baggage.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine,¡± Vomi assured him before shaking her head. ¡°But¡ªuh¡ªwhen you get to the chorus, try pacing out the crescendo more. And strum the chords like this instead.¡± She demonstrated with her hands. ¡°It¡¯ll flow better. And, y¡¯know, keep you from dropping the guitar.¡±

    Kenny opened his mouth, ready to brush off the advice¡ªhe was the musician here¡ªbut she was still Owen¡¯s girl. He figured he¡¯d humor her.

    When he tried again, following her instructions, he made it through the tricky part without stumbling.

    The rest of the song went off without a hitch.

    As he finished the last note, the camp broke into applause¡ªlouder than usual, mostly thanks to Vomi¡¯s voice, which stood out like something otherworldly compared to the rougher voices of the clan.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Mark muttered, watching her curiously. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be a musician too. What can¡¯t you do?¡±

    Vomi laughed awkwardly. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I just ran with a band of rockerboys. They taught me everything and then some.¡±

    "Tears for Fears is older than all of us," Kenny nodded. "Your mother had good taste."

    Jason set his beer bottle down for a moment. "Funny how it didn¡¯t really take off when it first dropped. Great song, but back then, people were more interested in screaming ¡®corpos are bad¡¯ at the top of their lungs than appreciating anything mellow or melodic."

    "Yeah, confusing times," Mark agreed. "It''s more accepted now, but still kinda niche. Unless some big name does a cover."

    "I think next year it goes into the public domain," Kenny added, raising a finger. "Means no one¡¯s gotta pay royalties. We could make some eddies off it."

    "In your dreams, choom," Jason snickered. "Let the big leagues handle that. We¡¯re good where we are."

    Mark glanced around the table before turning to Vomi. "What about you? Got any songs you wanna play for us?"

    "M-me?" Vomi stammered. "No¡ªno, I¡¯m good. I pass."

    "Oh, c''mon, don''t be shy." Kenny grinned, offering her the guitar. "You gotta know something, right? Maybe a song you and your mom used to listen to?"

    Vomi hesitated, her fingers twitching. "I¡ªLook, I¡ª"

    "I¡¯d like to hear something too," Jason chimed in. "Night City''s gotta have some bangers we¡¯d like, right?"

    Vomi sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable. With reluctant hands, she took the guitar, adjusted it on her lap, and pressed her fingers against the strings.

    She strummed.

    It was a mistake.

    <hr>

    A Few Seconds Earlier

    "I see," Owen said with a smirk, turning the shard over in his hand.

    Jason had given him exactly what he was looking for¡ªa lucky break. This belonged to some gonk who owed the Scorpios a hefty sum. The guy had been set to deliver a shipment of chems, synth drugs, and guns¡ªenough supplies to outfit an entire Aldecaldo branch. But the real kicker? He was making the run in a stolen corporate SUV, fully equipped with all the necessary safeguards and countermeasures to deter hijackers.

    Except, thanks to the shard, they now had a blueprint of all the SUV¡¯s fail-safes.

    This gig was worth a serious stack of eddies. And with the numbers the Scorpios had, a single SUV wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.

    "So, how are we running this?" one of the Scorpios asked.

    "Simple," Owen replied. "An EMP should force the SUV to a stop, but that would lock it down entirely. Unless we use this." He held up another shard, hooked to a device that looked like a modified smartphone. "This will disable the lockdown protocols. The armor will drop, but it won¡¯t be defenseless."

    "Yeah, no way a corpo ride stays passive after getting fried," another added. "It¡¯s gonna fight back."

    "It¡¯ll be tough," Owen agreed, "but manageable."

    In the background, Everybody Wants to Rule the World played. A few at the debrief table hummed along, splitting their focus between the gig and the music. Vomi¡¯s voice stood out¡ªsmooth, perfectly in sync with the melody. And for once, Kenny was playing without screwing up.

    Preem.

    "What do we need, boss?"

    "An EMP, obviously," Owen said, thinking out loud. "But we also need ways to hit the driver and turrets while keeping collateral low. If anyone¡¯s got ideas, now¡¯s the time. The gonk¡¯s scheduled to hit the north route in a day or two, so we¡¯re on a clock."

    One of the Scorpios, a woman with a shaved head and a cybernetic eye, leaned forward. "We got that drone you stole last month, right? If we retrofit it with a jammer, we could scramble the SUV¡¯s sensors before the EMP hits. Give us a couple extra seconds before it locks down."

    Owen nodded. "Not bad. That plus the EMP should give us a solid opening."

    Another Scorpio, a younger guy with grease-stained hands, chimed in. "I can rig some makeshift spike strips. Corpo rides like that probably have run-flats, but if we time it right, we might slow it down just enough before the EMP kicks in."

    "Alright, do it," Owen said, pointing at him.

    Then, another voice cut in¡ªJason, still holding his beer, splitting his focus momentarily to give his own advice. "We need to talk about firepower. The turrets are gonna be the real problem. If they¡¯re automated, they¡¯ll keep firing even if the driver¡¯s down. Unless we can disable them fast."

    Owen exhaled sharply, tapping his fingers on the table. "That¡¯s a problem. Anyone got armor-piercing rounds?"

    One of the guys whistled. "Not unless we hit a Militech depot."

    "Then we go for weak points," Owen said. "Optics, sensor arrays. If we fry those, it¡¯s blind."

    A few of the Scorpios exchanged glances, nodding. It wasn¡¯t a perfect plan, but it was workable.

    The music in the background shifted, the last echoes of Everybody Wants to Rule the World fading. Kenny was messing with the guitar again, probably trying to line up another song.

    That¡¯s when Owen glanced back toward the campfire. Vomi had the guitar now.

    She strummed a chord. Then another.

    The hesitation in her movements was obvious.

    THUD

    The guitar dropped to the ground, and Vomi collapsed, gasping for air as panic set in. Her chest heaved with every breath, and she tumbled to the dirt, shaking.

    ¡°H-hey, what the hell¡¯s going on?¡± Kenny shouted, eyes wide in concern for his guitar. ¡°Wait, oh shit¡­¡±

    Jason rushed over, kneeling beside her, his voice urgent. ¡°Someone get a doc here, now!¡±

    Owen snapped out of his seat and bolted toward them, his expression a mixture of worry and anger. He stopped in front of Kenny, eyes blazing.

    ¡°What the hell did you do to her?¡± Owen demanded, shoving Kenny with enough force to knock him back.

    "W-wait! I didn¡¯t do anything!¡± Kenny stammered, stumbling as he tried to defend himself.

    ¡°Then why is she like this?!¡± Owen¡¯s voice was fierce, demanding answers.

    Mark stepped forward, blocking Owen¡¯s path. ¡°Owen, chill! Kenny didn¡¯t do shit!¡±

    Owen¡¯s anger flickered, but his focus never wavered from Vomi. He dropped to his knees beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace. ¡°Then someone better tell me what the hell happened!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± a random Scorpio called out, panic evident in his voice. ¡°She was fine with the guitar, and then¡ªthen she just¡­ fell down.¡±

    ¡°Move! All of you!¡± The local doc arrived, pushing through the group with practiced efficiency. She knelt beside Vomi, quickly assessing the situation.

    Vomi was in no condition to respond. Her breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, her eyes darting wildly, as though she saw threats lurking everywhere. She was drowning in fear, trapped in a panic attack.

    ¡°PTSD,¡± the doc muttered under her breath, her tone both frustrated and urgent. ¡°Alright, bring me some alcohol and a mattress! Quickly!¡±

    The Scorpios scrambled into action, some running for supplies while others tried to clear the area, giving the doc space. Owen, still holding Vomi tightly, looked up at her with panic in his eyes.

    ¡°Doc, what¡¯s happening to her?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Owen,¡± the doc snapped as she worked. ¡°It¡¯s a panic attack. She¡¯s having a flashback. It¡¯s severe, but she¡¯s not going to die from it. We need to get her stable first.¡±

    She pulled a small vial from her kit and administered a quick injection into Vomi¡¯s arm, trying to sedate her just enough to calm the panic attack. Owen¡¯s grip tightened around her, his jaw set in frustration.

    ¡°Why the hell would she¡ª¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter right now,¡± the doc interrupted, pressing a cool cloth to Vomi¡¯s forehead as she murmured softly to herself. ¡°She¡¯s not in danger, just needs a minute. We¡¯re going to get her settled.¡±

    The mattress was quickly laid out, and Vomi was gently moved onto it. Her breathing was ragged, but with the doc''s steady presence and the injection starting to take effect, she began to calm. Owen stayed by her side, his hand brushing her hair back from her face, eyes flicking between the doc and her as if waiting for some miracle to make her better.

    ¡°Stay with her,¡± the doc said, glancing up at him. ¡°Keep her calm. Let the sedative work. She¡¯ll be fine, but we need to let her breathe.¡±

    Owen nodded, though his face still held deep concern. He watched Vomi¡¯s trembling form, the tension slowly ebbing away, her breathing becoming more steady, though still a little too fast for his liking.

    ¡°Vomi, it¡¯s okay,¡± Owen whispered softly, running his hand through her hair. ¡°You¡¯re safe.¡±

    Vomi eventually drifted off to sleep, but the tension in the air only grew heavier. Everyone watched in silence, unease spreading among them.

    Kenny couldn¡¯t shake the weight of his guilt.

    From a distance, Owen¡¯s glare burned into him.

    ¡°Fuck, what have I done?¡± Kenny muttered to himself, his voice tight with panic.

    He was in deep shit.

 Chapter 51: Wasted Time

    Darkness. A pit. A void of complete emptiness.

    Vomi stood there, vision slowly returning, only to be met with the silhouettes of those she dreaded facing most. They didn¡¯t glare at her with rage, contempt, or judgment. Their faces were eerily neutral, expressionless. But their eyes¡­ their eyes bore into her, stripping away every layer of defense she had left. They saw her. They saw him.

    And Vomi couldn¡¯t bear to look back. Shame and grief weighed her down like lead.

    All except for two.

    Blaze. And Vanguard.

    Blaze''s gaze burned with pure, seething hatred. He wanted nothing more than to kill her a hundred times over, to rip her apart and put her back together just so he could do it again. She understood why. She deserved it. She had destroyed everyone he cared about.

    But Vanguard?

    Vanguard looked disappointed.

    How could a symbiotic cat¡ªa creature not even human¡ªlook so utterly disheartened? And yet, he did. His stare carried the unspoken question she had no answer for. Why? Why did she make that choice in San Francisco? Why didn¡¯t she see how she was destroying herself in the process? How did she not realize that in doing so, she had erased him too?

    Vanguard was gone. The voice that had been with her from the very beginning¡ªthe one that guided her, however clumsily. The one that helped her understand her body, her powers, herself. The one who made her laugh with his ridiculous antics, who had shown her that she didn¡¯t have to reject what she had become.

    And now, he was just another ghost in the pit. Another soul she had lost.

    Vomi wanted to speak. To apologize. But what was left to say?

    An entire city¡ªwiped from existence because of her. The only tribute she had given them was repackaging their music and releasing it under their name. A coward¡¯s act. Hiding in the shadows, unable to face the world.

    Would they even consider forgiving her?

    Could she ever forgive herself?

    Vomi¡¯s eyes fluttered open.

    Another unfamiliar ceiling.

    ¡°Slept well?¡±

    Owen¡¯s voice was quiet, his hand gently stroking her hair.

    She didn¡¯t answer. Just turned away, curling into herself.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s best if you leave, Owen,¡± the Doc said. There was a sharp edge to her voice, impatience barely restrained.

    Owen exhaled through his nose, clicking his tongue. ¡°Alright, fine. I just needed to know if she was okay.¡±

    ¡°For twelve hours?¡± The Doc raised a brow. ¡°Get the fuck out of my clinic.¡±

    Owen looked ready to argue¡ªhis mouth opened, frustration flashing across his face. But then his gaze flicked to Vomi.

    Silent. Shoulders trembling.

    Crying.

    He shut his mouth.

    Without another word, he left, but not before stealing one last glance at the woman who refused to face him.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s time for you to eat something, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    The Doctor¡¯s voice was gentle but firm as she handed Vomi something she hadn¡¯t seen in¡­ maybe ever, at least in the world of Cyberpunk.

    A chocolate bar.

    ¡°Here,¡± she said, breaking off a few pieces for herself before offering the rest.

    Vomi hesitated before taking it. She took a small bite, and immediately, a long-forgotten taste flooded her senses. Sweet at first, then bitter at the end. It had been so long since she¡¯d last tasted real chocolate¡ªlong before she even became Vomi. Her throat instinctively tightened, demanding water.

    Kimberly had already anticipated this, handing her a bottle of clean, ice-cold water.

    Vomi took a few swigs, letting out a slow breath as she wiped her face. The tears had stopped. Her tail, once tightly coiled around herself, finally loosened.

    ¡°Can you talk?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± Vomi murmured.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Kimberly Greene. Nice to meet you, Vomi.¡± She extended a hand.

    Vomi shook it¡ªhesitant, weak.

    Kimberly didn¡¯t let go.

    ¡°Uh¡­?¡±

    ¡°That has to be the least confident handshake I¡¯ve ever felt,¡± she teased, a small chuckle escaping her lips. ¡°C¡¯mon, shake it like you mean it.¡±

    Vomi gave it another go, this time firmer.

    ¡°There we go.¡± Kimberly nodded in approval. ¡°Now, can you tell me what happened before your¡­ episode?¡±

    Vomi knew what she was really asking. She stared at the chocolate bar, turning it in her hands before taking another bite.

    ¡°I can,¡± she admitted. ¡°But¡­ let me finish this first.¡±

    Kimberly smirked slightly. Women and their sweets. It was always the same¡ªwhen dealing with painful memories, sometimes a little indulgence was the only way forward.

    While Vomi finished, Kimberly set up a chair, grabbed her datapad, and tapped out a few quick notes. She already had a working diagnosis, but she needed more. Needed to understand exactly what Vomi was running from.

    PTSD was a tricky thing. If no one had been there to witness the trauma firsthand, getting the full picture from the person suffering was almost impossible. Kimberly had to be careful with her approach¡ªchoose her words wisely, emphasize the right things, and, most importantly, know when to shut up and let Vomi process her own thoughts.

    Psychology wasn¡¯t her field, but she¡¯d do her best to help the exotic woman in front of her.

    ¡°So, from what I¡¯ve gathered¡ªand from what the others told me¡ªit started when you tried to play Kenny¡¯s guitar, right?¡±

    Vomi exhaled slowly. ¡°I tried denying it, but they were¡­ insistent.¡±

    Kimberly nodded, leaning forward slightly. ¡°So you were coerced.¡±

    ¡°I could have refused,¡± Vomi admitted, her shoulders slumping. ¡°But¡­ I didn¡¯t want to. They were so nice to me. I didn¡¯t want to feel like an outsider.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all outsiders here, Vomi,¡± Kimberly said, brushing the concern aside with a small shrug. ¡°Most of the Scorpios barely know each other¡¯s pasts, yet we work together for the same goal. But that¡¯s not really what¡¯s bothering you, is it?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s expression darkened. She turned away. ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°Then what is?¡±

    A long pause.

    ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t want to come across as arrogant.¡± Vomi¡¯s voice was quiet, unsure. ¡°Or maybe prideful? The wrong kind of pride.¡± She rubbed her arm, as if trying to physically push the words out. ¡°I helped Kenny with his problem, but I didn¡¯t want it to seem like I was¡­¡±

    ¡°Better than him?¡± Kimberly offered.

    ¡°No, not that.¡± Vomi shook her head, frustration creeping in. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡±

    Kimberly remained silent, letting the words hang between them. She watched as Vomi struggled, fingers tightening around the remnants of the chocolate bar, tail curling slightly in agitation.

    ¡°You¡­ what?¡± Kimberly finally prompted, her tone soft but firm.

    Vomi exhaled sharply. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to act like I deserved to play.¡±

    Kimberly raised a brow. ¡°Deserved?¡±

    ¡°I helped him,¡± Vomi muttered, gripping the blanket over her lap. ¡°But I¡¯m not one of them. Not really. I don¡¯t belong. I don¡¯t deserve to sit with them, play with them, be part of something that isn¡¯t mine.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t yours?¡± Kimberly repeated, watching Vomi¡¯s reaction carefully. ¡°And what makes you think that?¡±

    Vomi scoffed bitterly, eyes darting away. ¡°You know why.¡±

    Kimberly didn¡¯t respond immediately. She let the weight of Vomi¡¯s words settle, giving her time to process them herself. Finally, she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

    ¡°Vomi,¡± Kimberly said, her voice calm but firm. ¡°I don¡¯t think even you know why. You¡¯re shielding yourself from something¡ªsomething so deep that even you won¡¯t face it.¡±

    ¡°Shielding myself?¡± Vomi snapped, her tone instantly defensive. ¡°Last time I opened up, I lost everyone I called family!¡±

    Ah.

    There it is.

    Kimberly noted the outburst but didn¡¯t react outwardly, instead making a quick note on her datapad. Whatever past Vomi was running from, it wasn¡¯t just painful¡ªit was something she desperately wanted to forget, yet couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°And yet,¡± Kimberly continued with the same unwavering calm, ¡°you can¡¯t leave it behind. It¡¯s part of you now.¡±

    Vomi opened her mouth to argue¡ªbut nothing came. No defense, no excuse. Just silence. With a heavy sigh, she sank back down, crumpling the empty chocolate wrapper in her hands.

    ¡°¡­No,¡± she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    Kimberly leaned back in her chair, setting the datapad aside. ¡°Then maybe it¡¯s time you stop running from it.¡±

    Vomi let out a dry, bitter chuckle. ¡°You make it sound so simple.¡±

    ¡°I never said it was simple,¡± Kimberly countered. ¡°I said it was necessary.¡±

    Vomi clenched her jaw, her tail twitching slightly. ¡°And what if I don¡¯t want to face it?¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll keep breaking down like you did earlier,¡± Kimberly said plainly. ¡°You¡¯ll keep spiraling, keep drowning in whatever¡¯s eating you from the inside. Is that what you want?¡±

    Vomi turned her head away, staring at the clinic¡¯s dull ceiling. ¡°¡­No.¡±

    ¡°Then talk to me.¡± Kimberly¡¯s tone softened. ¡°What happened when you tried playing that guitar?¡±

    For a long moment, Vomi said nothing. Then, barely above a whisper¡ª

    ¡°¡­I heard them.¡±

    Kimberly¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°Who?¡±

    Vomi shut her eyes. ¡°All of them. My friends¡ª my¡­ the people that¡­ Fuck¡­¡±

    She couldn¡¯t finish the sentence, but Kimberly understood enough.

    ¡°The band?¡± she asked gently. ¡°The ones who taught you about music?¡±

    With a shaky sigh, Vomi nodded. ¡°Yeah¡­ They just¡­ stared at me.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me about them? Who they were? What they were like?¡±

    Vomi hesitated but eventually nodded. ¡°I think I can.¡±

    She started from the beginning¡ªhow she left Night City, made her way to Los Angeles, then San Francisco. The gigs she played, the exhaustion that crept in after a few big gigs, and the night she decided to cut loose at a party. That¡¯s where she met Thiago, with his awful drinking tolerance, and how she first got introduced to the band.

    They weren¡¯t just musicians¡ªthey were mercs too, constantly balancing both lives. She laughed a little when she remembered meeting them at a shooting range before ever stepping into a rehearsal room. How, after that, they instantly invited her to watch them play.

    Kimberly listened closely, chuckling when Vomi recounted the time she accidentally snapped the strings on Blaze¡¯s guitar, forcing her to buy him a replacement¡ªexcept she didn¡¯t stop at just that. Instead, she ended up upgrading the whole band¡¯s gear, an unintentional but welcome investment.

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    Raven, Blaze, Heitor, Nieme, Thiago¡­

    Even Cinthia, Raven''s sister, with her blinding neon-green makeup. And Katie¡ªThiago¡¯s kid, with her bright red hair and that gap-toothed smile.

    Kimberly was starting to piece it together. The Refused¡ªthe name they had chosen for themselves¡ªweren¡¯t just bandmates to Vomi. They were her family. They had each other¡¯s backs, no matter what. Even when Raven spiraled into drug problems. Even with the messy, strained bond between her and Cinthia. No matter the cracks in their relationships, they were always more with each other than against each other.

    Kimberly jotted down notes, making sure not to lose any of these details. But she knew how this went. When someone deeply depressed spoke about their past with this much warmth, the story always took a turn.

    And God, did it take a turn.

    Vomi had hidden her symbiotic abilities from everyone, saying she was ¡°relying on self-made drugs¡± to keep up with both her gigs and the corpo world she was tangled in. But it all started crumbling. Kaneda Corp and M-Tech pulled her back and forth like a puppet, and the more they pushed, the more her mind began to fracture. Her paranoia grew. Her temper shortened.

    Then came the attack.

    The Black Daggers. Thiago, bleeding out. Something inside her snapped.

    Vomi lost it.

    She made it her mission to annihilate them all¡ªevery last Black Dagger, every boss pulling their strings. It became an obsession, a hunger. But it didn¡¯t stop there.

    The drugs, the stress, the rage¡­ they warped her. She started seeing enemies where there were none. She turned on the very people she swore to protect.

    And she killed them.

    Intentionally or not¡­ she killed them.

    From there, her memories turned hazy¡ªblurred, fractured, whole chunks missing between brief moments of clarity. The last thing she could clearly recall was Thiago. Even with his body broken, even with just one functioning arm, he tried to save her. He got her on the Kusanagi. He tried to escape the M-Tech guards with her.

    They crashed.

    And even then, even as death loomed over him, he gave her one final piece of advice. He made her promise.

    Do what feels right. Never bow to anyone.

    And she failed at even that.

    She hid. She buried herself in Vik¡¯s clinic, only surfacing when the hunger for blood became unbearable.

    And then she wiped an entire city off the map.

    Kimberly¡¯s breath hitched. Her fingers tightened around the data pad. ¡°You¡­ you were the reason for the Holocaust?¡±

    Vomi gave a slow, empty nod.

    Kimberly felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She had expected Vomi to be running from something, but this? An entire city wiped off the map. Thousands¡ªno, millions¡ªof lives erased. And the woman in front of her, gripping an empty chocolate wrapper like it was the last thing tethering her to reality, had done it.

    Kimberly forced herself to keep her expression neutral, but it was difficult.

    ¡°¡­Do you regret it?¡± she finally asked.

    Vomi let out a dry, hollow laugh. ¡°What kind of question is that?¡± She stared down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if the weight of all those lives still lingered on them. ¡°Regret? Remorse? Yeah. I feel that. Constantly.¡±

    Kimberly studied her carefully. ¡°And yet you keep going.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s tail curled around her waist¡ªa subconscious defense mechanism. ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice.¡±

    The doctor exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair. ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Vomi scoffed. ¡°I can¡¯t stop, Kimberly. I can¡¯t undo what I¡¯ve done. I can¡¯t fix this. I don¡¯t even know if I should be fixed. Every time I think about stopping, I just¡ª¡± She cut herself off, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m still here because I have to be.¡±

    Kimberly tapped her stylus against the data pad, considering her words carefully. Then, with certainty, she said, ¡°You¡¯re still here because you don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    Vomi let out a bitter chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die?¡± She scoffed. ¡°Bitch, I can¡¯t die. If I could, I would.¡±

    Kimberly leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. ¡°Vomi¡­ do you know what I see?¡±

    Vomi didn¡¯t answer, but she was listening.

    ¡°I see someone who did something unforgivable,¡± Kimberly said bluntly. ¡°But I also see someone who didn¡¯t let it end them. Someone who could have disappeared but didn¡¯t. Maybe you don¡¯t know why you¡¯re still fighting, but the fact that you are? That means something.¡±

    Vomi stared at the floor, silent.

    Kimberly didn¡¯t push. She let the words settle. This wasn¡¯t something that could be fixed in a single conversation¡ªmaybe not even in a lifetime. But¡­

    ¡°After all, if you truly didn¡¯t care, you wouldn¡¯t have corrected Kenny on his guitar.¡± Kimberly¡¯s voice was calm but pointed. ¡°And more importantly, you wouldn¡¯t have released The Refused¡¯s songs.¡±

    A flicker of something¡ªbarely perceptible, but there. A flinch. A reaction that wasn¡¯t sarcasm or anger. A moment where even Vomi couldn¡¯t lie to herself.

    ¡°That¡­¡± But the words never came.

    Kimberly pressed forward gently. ¡°See? You want that feeling again, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s gaze lifted slightly, wary. ¡°What feeling?¡±

    ¡°Camaraderie. Companionship.¡± Kimberly met her eyes. ¡°You told you had a family back in Night City. Can you really say you¡¯d just discard them?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s expression shifted¡ªjust slightly, but enough for Kimberly to notice. Her eyes flickered, and for a moment, she seemed like she might say something, but the words stalled.

    ¡°I... I can¡¯t,¡± Vomi muttered, her voice quieter now. ¡°I can¡¯t go back to that. Not after everything that happened.¡± Her gaze turned distant, her fingers clenching tightly around the empty chocolate wrapper as if it were the only thing tethering her to the present. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t even want me back after all this. I¡¯m... not the same person anymore.¡±

    Kimberly¡¯s tone softened. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯d abandon you. It just means they might need to understand. You might need to understand. Not everything is gone, Vomi. Not everything has been destroyed. You still have the choice to reach out¡ªto fix what¡¯s been broken, even if it feels impossible.¡±

    Vomi laughed bitterly, shaking her head. ¡°You think I could just walk back in like nothing happened? Like I haven¡¯t... destroyed everything? Everyone?¡± She looked up, meeting Kimberly¡¯s gaze, her eyes hard and unyielding. ¡°They¡¯re dead because of me.¡±

    The silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken truths. Kimberly leaned forward, her voice steady but firm. ¡°You don¡¯t get to carry their deaths like that, Vomi. You didn¡¯t kill them. Your actions, your choices¡­ maybe. But you¡¯re not the sum of your mistakes.¡± She let that hang in the air.

    Vomi¡¯s tail flicked, almost agitated, but she said nothing.

    Kimberly¡¯s words were deliberate, as though she¡¯d rehearsed them a hundred times in her head before speaking. ¡°Look at what you¡¯ve built, even through the wreckage. The Refused¡­ the music, the connection you had. That¡¯s still you. And that¡¯s not something you just throw away.¡±

    Vomi¡¯s shoulders slumped slightly. Her hand absently reached for her tail, twining it tighter around her waist. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to fix it. How to make it right.¡±

    Kimberly nodded slowly. ¡°I know. It¡¯s not going to be easy. But you can start by facing it. You are the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else. And you need to decide what comes next.¡± She paused, letting that sink in.

    Vomi stared at the floor again, the weight of the conversation settling over her like a storm cloud. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I deserve to fix it,¡± she whispered, barely audible. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I deserve anything anymore.¡±

    Kimberly¡¯s voice was gentle but resolute. ¡°You deserve a chance. You deserve a future. You just have to want it enough to take it.¡±

    The silence stretched out, but this time, it wasn¡¯t quite so suffocating. Vomi remained still, her eyes dark with conflicting emotions, but there was a flicker of something softer¡ªsomething almost like hope¡ªhidden beneath the layers of pain.

    After a long pause, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°What if I can¡¯t... find my way back?¡±

    Kimberly leaned back in her chair, her gaze unwavering. ¡°Then you take it one step at a time. No one¡¯s asking you to have all the answers right now. Just take the first step. That¡¯s all.¡±

    Vomi stared at the chocolate wrapper in her hand, as if the words hadn¡¯t fully registered. But Kimberly could see the small change in her¡ªthe slight shift in her posture. Maybe, just maybe, there was a spark of something deeper inside her. Something that was still willing to fight.

    And for the first time in a long while, Kimberly believed it too.

    ¡°Thing is,¡± Kimberly said, her voice steady as she turned to face Vomi, ¡°What do you want to do to fix it? What¡¯s your big goal? And the steps you need to take to get there?¡±

    Vomi¡¯s tail, which had been coiled tightly around her waist, uncurled slowly, flicking back and forth as she processed the question. Her mind wandered, drifting back to that night in her apartment. She and Vanguard had joked about the kind of music she would play when she finally learned an instrument. She had said flamenco, half as a joke, just because she liked the way mariachis used acoustic guitars, but now... now it felt like something she needed.

    ¡°I need that guitar,¡± she said, her voice quiet but firm. ¡°I need to play what I promised I would.¡±

    Vanguard¡¯s teasing comment from that night echoed in her mind. She could almost hear him.

    ¡°I can picture it now: Vomi, the netrunning, gun-tinkering scientist who moonlights as a flamenco guitarist,¡± Vanguard had teased, his red eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°Not a bad image. Just don¡¯t get too ambitious, chica.¡±

    Vomi chuckled softly at the memory, the words lingering in her thoughts. But it wasn¡¯t a joke anymore. It was what she needed.

    Kimberly raised an eyebrow, concern flickering in her gaze. ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Vomi replied, her voice unwavering, her eyes set with determination.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll call him here,¡± Kimberly said, starting to reach for her communicator.

    ¡°No,¡± Vomi interrupted, getting to her feet. ¡°I want everyone to see this.¡± She tossed the wrapper into the trash, her face breaking into a small, rare smile. ¡°The first step is mine, right?¡±

    Kimberly watched her, feeling a sense of accomplishment stir inside her. A pseudo-psychologist had helped guide this woman¡ªthis monster¡ªthrough something. She erased Vomi¡¯s notes from the pad, clearing the evidence of their session. There was no need to keep them anymore.

    <hr>

    Later that night, Kenny¡¯s guitar lay exactly where it had been before, by the campfire. The flames crackled, and the warm glow of the fire painted the night in soft, flickering light. The Scorpios watched from a distance, wary and unsure. They¡¯d seen how Owen had reacted to Kenny, even though it wasn¡¯t his fault, and now they weren¡¯t sure how to feel about Vomi. But none of that mattered to her right now.

    She picked up the guitar, feeling its familiar weight in her hands. She sat down in one of the chairs beside the fire, the warmth of the flames spreading through her as she tuned the guitar¡¯s strings. The crackle of the fire was the only sound for a moment, and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to just... think.

    What song did she want to play? Did she want to be soft? Bold? Play something loud and brash? Something reflective? Something emotional?

    Her fingers hovered over the strings, uncertain for a moment. Then, without warning, she began. The melody was simple at first, the soft whistle of Vomi being the only lyrics, gentle and sorrowful. The music hummed in the air, mellow and melancholic, but there was something hopeful in the way the notes rose and fell. She let it flow, a quiet peace washing over her as she lost herself in the music.

    It was flamenco after all. And for once, it felt like it was exactly what she needed.

    The tale unfolded in the notes of the guitar and the soft whistle. It began slow, impactful, yet somehow felt like it would never end. It spoke of someone seeking purpose in the chaos of life, how a single perspective¡ªif paired with soft words and sweet lies¡ªcould turn even the most grounded and truthful individual into a blind follower. It was a story of redemption, of someone recognizing the weight of their past mistakes, seeking to make amends, and taking a deep breath, even knowing the road ahead was long and they might be too late.

    They¡¯d be hated for it, but sometimes that was the price to pay when trying to fix a problem this vast.

    As the final notes faded, a few Scorpios clapped, hesitant but moved. The song had dug deep, and even with the lingering tension, some stayed by the fire, lost in its depth.

    ¡°What''s the name of that song?¡± a random Scorpio asked, breaking the silence. ¡°Never heard it before, though I recognize the style.¡±

    Vomi turned to him, her eyes soft as she explained, ¡°It¡¯s a three-layered song. The first layer is called Wind.¡± She played the opening notes again, letting them hang in the air. ¡°The song¡¯s name is The Orphan Wolf Legend.¡±

    The fire crackled softly as Vomi let the silence linger, the warmth of the flames mixing with the lingering echoes of her song. She set the guitar down gently on her lap, eyes flickering toward the horizon where the night sky stretched endlessly.

    ¡°Why The Orphan Wolf Legend?¡± another Scorpio asked, his voice tentative, as if the story in the song might carry something heavier than just melody.

    Vomi paused, looking at the flames for a moment before answering. "Wolves don¡¯t always roam in packs. Some are born alone, with nothing but the world around them. They make their own way, even if that means walking a lonely road. But a wolf... a lone wolf can¡¯t escape the scars it carries, no matter how far it runs. The song¡¯s about realizing that, about facing those scars and still moving forward.¡±

    That wasn''t the total truth though, as it was Yasha¡¯s Theme from Asura¡¯s Wrath. It had many interpretations, but Vomi was content with this one.

    The Scorpio nodded, though his gaze was still far away, lost in thought. Some understood, others didn''t, but the song had stirred something deep in them all, a shared moment of recognition.

    The crackle of the fire seemed louder now, as if it, too, was reflecting the weight of what had been said. Vomi leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her tail curling loosely around the leg of the chair. It felt like the first time in ages she could just breathe.

    As the night stretched on, the others fell into a quiet, thoughtful reverence. The tension in the air hadn¡¯t fully dissipated, but it had shifted. The music, the story woven into it, had cracked open something, made a space where understanding could begin to grow.

    For a fleeting moment, Vomi wondered if they might one day all walk out of this together, if the road ahead might one day feel a little less lonely.

    "I guess I''ll play another," Vomi said, fingers idly strumming the strings. "Been a while since I listened to Renato Russo."

    "Who?" someone asked.

    She didn''t answer, just let her hands do the talking. The familiar chords of Tempo Perdido filled the air, a song that had outlived generations, carrying the weight of time itself. It spoke of the little things people overlook until they''re gone¡ªmemories, fleeting moments, chances that slipped away.

    That¡¯s why it was called Tempo Perdido.

    Wasted Time.

    "Todos os dias quando acordo, n?o tenho mais o tempo que passou¡­"

    The words carried through the air, soft but weighted with meaning. A Brazilian song, written by one of the most visionary artists of his time. Most of the Scorpios didn¡¯t understand the lyrics, but they felt the melody¡ªthe deep, melancholic doubt woven into each note. It resonated in a way that words alone couldn¡¯t.

    The few with Translator Chips caught the meaning, whispering translations to those around them, trying their best to adapt the lyrics into English. Slowly, understanding spread. This wasn¡¯t just about time slipping away¡ªit was about cherishing the people in your life. The laughter and tears, the highs and lows, the moments of joy and even the struggles. It was about the little things, the ones people don¡¯t realize they¡¯ll miss until they¡¯re gone. Because one day¡ªthere¡¯s always a day¡ªwhen you¡¯ll look back, and the past will seem sweeter, not because it was easy, but because it was yours.

    "O que foi escondido ¨¦ o que se escondeu, e o que foi prometido, ningu¨¦m prometeu¡­"

    That line struck a different chord. The way memories get buried, how promises fade, how life keeps pushing forward without waiting for anyone to catch up. There¡¯s always another job, another task, another responsibility, and before you know it, the things you swore you¡¯d do¡ªthe things you thought mattered¡ªare lost in the shuffle. The weight of it all builds, and when you finally stop to breathe, you realize you¡¯ve been running on empty. By then, it¡¯s too late to go back.

    "Somos t?o jovens¡­ t?o jovens¡­"

    The final words lingered in the firelit silence. We are so young¡­ so young¡­ So caught up in chasing what¡¯s ahead that we forget to see what we already have.

    The last note faded. Vomi let out a slow breath, her fingers still resting on the strings. The fire crackled, wrapping her in warmth, and for the first time in a long while, she felt¡­ content.

    "I think I''m happy now," she murmured, closing her eyes. No worries. No thoughts. No burdens. Just being.

    When she finally looked up, she was met with tear-streaked faces.

    ¡°¡­What?¡± she asked, confused. ¡°What happened?¡±

    One of the Scorpios, barely holding back a sob, placed a hand on her shoulder. ¡°That¡­ That was the most beautiful song I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±

    Vomi blinked, caught off guard by the sheer emotion around her. Toughened mercs and nomads, people who had spent their lives in the harshest corners of the world, now sat in stunned silence, some wiping their eyes, others just staring into the fire as if seeing something long forgotten.

    She wasn¡¯t sure how to react. Music had always been part of her life, but not like this. Not as something that could crack open a person¡¯s soul, pull out emotions they¡¯d buried deep, and leave them vulnerable in the warm glow of a campfire.

    One of the older Scorpios, a man with gray streaks in his hair and a cybernetic arm, exhaled shakily. ¡°Damn¡­ I haven''t felt like this in years.¡±

    Another nodded, voice rough with emotion. ¡°That song¡­ It says things I never knew how to put into words.¡±

    A woman across from Vomi let out a wet chuckle, rubbing at her eyes. ¡°Shit, we were all just sitting here, minding our business, and you ambushed us with feelings.¡±

    That got a few laughs¡ªsniffly, broken ones¡ªbut genuine nonetheless.

    Vomi let out a breath, shaking her head. ¡°I just¡­ I just wanted to play something that felt real.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± the first man said, clearing his throat, ¡°you sure as hell did that.¡±

    For the first time since she¡¯d arrived at the camp, the tension around her wasn¡¯t heavy with suspicion or fear. It wasn¡¯t about what she was, what she had done, or what she could do. It was just¡­ people sharing a moment.

    The fire crackled. Someone passed a bottle around, offering her a drink.

    Vomi hesitated, then took it. The burn of alcohol was sharp, grounding, real.

    Maybe¡ªjust for tonight¡ªthat was enough.

 Chapter 52: Another One Bites the Dust

    David Martinez

    I braced myself for what was coming.

    ¡°AHHHHH! STOP! STOP, YOU ASSHOLE!¡±

    Jessy''s screams filled Doc''s clinic. She¡¯d made the brilliant decision to get chromed up here instead of going to her usual Ripperdoc. No idea what was going through her head, but I found it mildly hilarious. See, Doc doesn¡¯t use painkillers, sedatives, or anesthesia during procedures. So when Jessy decided to swap out her hand for a new hacking rig? Well¡­ Doc was in the middle of sawing it off.

    Not literally with a saw, but you get the idea.

    ¡°Keep still,¡± Doc muttered, trying to cut through, but Jessy wasn¡¯t making it easy.

    ¡°Use a fucking anesthetic, you heartless prick addicted to cheap porn!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a rule of mine! I don¡¯t use that stuff!¡±

    ¡°WHY?!¡±

    ¡°THAT''S NOT YOUR BUSINESS!¡±

    ¡°IT IS WHEN MY BLOOD IS SPILLING ALL OVER YOUR GODDAMN ROOM, YOU CUNT!¡±

    Me? I was off in the corner with Seven and Anderson, going over the next gig for Task Force Neuron. Vomi still hadn¡¯t shown up, but that didn¡¯t mean I was just gonna sit around. Vik had been more than happy to let me leave¡ªor maybe he just wanted me gone. His place was getting kinda crowded with me, Mom, Ciri, Lev, Panther (who, by the way, was sitting beside me), and now Sasha dropping by every so often.

    Yeah, he probably wanted some space.

    Seven, finally fed up with the yelling, pushed back from the table and stood. ¡°Doc, would you please use the fucking anesthetic before I have my organization confiscate your equipment and send this lovely lady¡ªwho will not have a hand¡ªto another Ripperdoc, so we can finally have some peace?¡±

    ¡°But I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Would you kindly?¡± Seven cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

    Doc hesitated, glancing at Jessy as she clenched her jaw, doing her best not to scream. After a moment, he let out a sigh and rummaged behind the counter, pulling out an old case of anesthetics. With a pull of the trigger, the tension in Jessy¡¯s face slowly eased as the pain faded.

    I could have told her Doc never used painkillers, but where¡¯s the fun in that?

    ¡°I expect this won¡¯t happen again,¡± Doc grumbled.

    ¡°Oh, it won¡¯t,¡± Jessy groaned from the recliner. ¡°Because I¡¯m never buying chrome from you again. What kind of ripper doesn¡¯t use anesthesia?!¡±

    ¡°Shut up already! I gave you the damn painkillers, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Oh, fuck off.¡±

    Anderson took off his hat, shaking his head. ¡°This has to be the weirdest bunch I¡¯ve ever had the¡­ opportunity to meet.¡±

    ¡°Anyway¡­¡± Seven sighed, powering on the TV he¡¯d used for the last gig. ¡°Are you ready for the debriefing? I¡¯m on the clock here.¡±

    I absentmindedly ran my fingers through Panther¡¯s fur. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°Same here,¡± Anderson nodded.

    ¡°I can pay attention from here,¡± Jessy called from across the room.

    ¡°Good.¡± Seven brought up the briefing. ¡°This is a delicate job. To put it simply, we¡¯re running counter-intel. Task Force Neuron has been assigned to infiltrate the NCPD and extract key data.¡±

    ¡°The police?¡± Jessy scoffed. ¡°Why?¡±

    I had to agree. Counter-intel gigs usually involved feeding bad info to enemies, tweaking data, or slipping outdated reports into circulation¡ªspy movie shit. And jobs like this were never handed to just anyone. They required trained professionals, not¡­ well, us.

    ¡°Why not give this to government agents?¡± I asked as Panther lazily jumped into my lap. I was used to his antics by now. ¡°This isn¡¯t the kind of gig you hand to a bunch of street punks.¡±

    Anderson added his two ennies. ¡°Even with our backgrounds, I don¡¯t see why we¡¯d be the better option.¡±

    Seven folded his arms, unfazed. ¡°Because government agents need warrants, paperwork, and oversight. That takes time. Counter-intel is about working fast and leaving no traces. And giving the job to a crew who don¡¯t mind bending the law¡ªwho just so happen to ¡®find¡¯ the data we need¡ªis much more convenient.¡±

    Well, unwanted explanation, but alright.

    ¡°And lucrative,¡± I muttered. ¡°Alright, what are we dealing with?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing¡ªwe don¡¯t know for sure.¡± Seven tossed a shard my way, and I caught it mid-air. ¡°We¡¯ve been combing through these files for a while now. Transactions, transportation logs, routes, names¡ªit all looks legit. But there¡¯s a catch.¡±

    I slotted the shard, letting my optics process the data. At first glance, everything seemed above board. Even with my Arasaka Academy training, I couldn¡¯t spot anything obviously out of place. I copied the files and passed the shard to Anderson, who immediately started scanning through it.

    ¡°What is this? Who are these guys?¡± Anderson asked after a moment.

    Seven brought up a few slides on the TV. ¡°Judging by their patterns, they¡¯re not from any of the known gangs in Night City. Maybe the Tyger Claws, but it¡¯s not their usual style. None of the gangs¡ªhell, not even some corpos¡ªcould run an operation this tight, this organized, and this public without knowing exactly how to make illegal activity look squeaky clean.¡± He switched slides. ¡°Destinations, vehicle registrations, branding, schedules¡ªit all looks like it belongs to a legitimate business. Maybe even a corporation.¡±

    ¡°And what exactly makes that suspicious?¡± Jessy asked. ¡°Unless we¡¯re talking about money laundering, I don¡¯t see why this is worth looking into. Cyberspace data¡¯s been faulty ever since the DataCrash¡ªprivate servers, scattered archives, corrupted logs¡ªso I can¡¯t put my finger on what¡¯s off about this.¡±

    ¡°I know what.¡± I kept my eyes on the data.

    The issue wasn¡¯t the company itself, or even its structure. It was something simpler.

    Profit.

    ¡°And?¡± Anderson pressed. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s say you¡¯ve got a shipment to make,¡± I said, leaning back. ¡°And that shipment is worth, I don¡¯t know¡­ five, maybe ten thousand eddies.¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡±

    ¡°How much would you sell it for?¡±

    ¡°For twenty, obviously.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what any trader, merchant, or corpo would do. But this group? They¡¯re selling everything at exactly its market value.¡±

    Jessy frowned. ¡°Wait¡ªso there¡¯s no profit? Then how the fuck do they make eddies?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the government wants you to find out,¡± Seven said, turning to her. ¡°You¡¯re the priority here. The NCPD¡¯s got layers of Black ICE guarding their systems, not to mention an evolving arsenal of Daemons. It¡¯s going to be tricky. But with that new hand you¡¯re chipping in¡­¡± He smirked. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, things should get a lot easier.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thanks for reminding me,¡± Jessy muttered, shooting a glare at Doc. He grumbled something under his breath but didn¡¯t look up.

    ¡°There. Finished,¡± Doc announced, immediately putting on a wreath and slotting a BD for himself.

    ¡°Asshole.¡±

    Anderson leaned forward. ¡°What else do we know? A group running an operation this big has to be sizable. Any known faces? You did mention names earlier.¡±

    Seven shook his head. ¡°Names could just be pseudonyms, as far as we know. Even if they are real, we still need solid evidence to back up our claims¡ªsuspicion alone won¡¯t cut it.¡± He paused, scratching his chin. ¡°That said, one name did show up a lot in these files.¡±

    I shut off the data feed in my optics. ¡°Nina Kraviz?¡±

    Seven raised a brow.

    ¡°The world-renowned Ripperdoc?¡± I continued. ¡°She¡¯s here in Night City?¡±

    ¡°That, we don¡¯t know. But it is strange¡ªa Ripperdoc being tied to something like this, especially in Charter Hill.¡± Seven folded his arms, lost in thought.

    ¡°Shit, Charter Hill?¡± Anderson scoffed. ¡°Why the hell would anyone from that fancy-ass place get mixed up in something like this?¡±

    It was a fair question. Sometimes, the obvious needed to be said. Nina Kraviz was by all means self-sufficient. She didn¡¯t need some big clinic or corpo backing to rake in clients¡ªespecially in Night City, where a trip to the Ripperdoc was practically part of daily life. So why was her name tied to this?

    ¡°Her name¡¯s in the files, yeah. But does that prove she¡¯s part of this operation? No.¡± Jessy leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. ¡°I¡¯ve seen plenty of names pop up in places they shouldn¡¯t be. Half the time, the people on those lists don¡¯t even know they¡¯re there. Besides, why would a renowned doc throw away her rep for a few extra eddies?¡±

    ¡°You never know,¡± Anderson said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve seen my fair share of bullshit.¡±

    ¡°All baseless conjecture,¡± Jessy shot back. ¡°Especially since we¡¯re technically working for the law here. We need evidence, not assumptions.¡±

    ¡°In that case, take a look.¡± I pinged her the deetes.

    She skimmed through the data, then let out a thoughtful hum. ¡°You guys overlooked something.¡±

    Seven gestured for her to continue. ¡°Feel free to share.¡±

    Jessy leaned forward, scrolling through the data. ¡°See this?¡± She highlighted a section of the files. ¡°All these transactions, routes, and shipments? They aren¡¯t just running through Charter Hill¡ªthey¡¯re starting there. Every major shipment originates from within the district.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not unusual,¡± Anderson said. ¡°Rich folks get all kinds of shipments, luxury goods, cyberware, black-market meds¡ªhell, even high-grade weapons sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Right, but this¡ª¡± Jessy tapped the screen. ¡°¡ªis too clean. No fake IDs, no bounced signals, no laundering patterns. Whoever¡¯s running this is either really good at covering their tracks¡­ or they don¡¯t need to.¡±

    Seven nodded. ¡°Meaning?¡±

    ¡°Meaning,¡± she continued, ¡°this might not just be some underground operation. It could be something legit on paper, with the shady shit hidden in plain sight.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°A front?¡±

    ¡°More than that,¡± Jessy said. ¡°If Nina Kraviz¡¯s name is here, it¡¯s not because she¡¯s some underground fixer moving chrome. It¡¯s because whatever this is? It¡¯s operating legally¡ªor at least, it looks like it is.¡±

    Seven exhaled through his nose. ¡°So we¡¯re not just dealing with some gang or black-market ring. We might be up against a full-fledged corporate-backed operation.¡±

    Anderson sighed. ¡°Great. Just what we needed.¡±

    I glanced at Seven. ¡°So what¡¯s the move?¡±

    Seven exhaled sharply. ¡°We proceed as planned. This is going to take longer than expected.¡± He switched off the TV. ¡°Your job is to get into the NCPD, pull any data related to these transactions, and find a lead¡ªbe it a name, a brand, whatever. Once we have something solid, then we¡¯ll figure out how Kraviz fits into this.¡±

    Jessy was already peeling off her outerwear to get into her cooling suit. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the game plan?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a cyberdive,¡± Seven warned, not bothering to turn away as she stripped. ¡°You¡¯ll need to be jacked into a physical terminal inside the station. The PD still relies on analog storage for anything sensitive.¡±

    Jessy nodded as she pulled on her suit. ¡°Sounds like my kind of job.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a rooftop entrance near the main power conduits¡ªused mostly by engineers and electricians. No recent maintenance requests, so it¡¯s likely been overlooked by the officers.¡± Seven grabbed three bags and tossed them over. ¡°These should get you inside. Blend in, improvise if needed, but don¡¯t linger. The second they suspect anything, they¡¯ll shoot first and ask questions later.¡±

    We nodded, grabbing our gear.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Seven said, rolling his shoulders. ¡°We never met, this conversation never happened. We talked about mundane shit¡ªweather, sports, tits.¡± He chuckled. ¡°See you all on the other side.¡±

    With that, he left.

    Jessy was the first to get into her disguise, but as soon as she zipped up, we all noticed the problem¡ªher smaller frame made the outfit look hilariously oversized. The baggy fit was impossible to ignore. Anderson and I wore ours just fine, but on her, it was like a kid playing dress-up.

    Jessy sighed, pulling at the sleeves. ¡°Yeah. This is gonna be a problem.¡±

    ¡°They seriously don¡¯t have anything smaller?¡± Anderson asked, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Nope. Of course not.¡± Jessy groaned. ¡°They don¡¯t expect people my size to be running infiltration gigs.¡±

    I scratched the back of my head. ¡°You can still pull it off¡­ right?¡±

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Anderson shook his head. ¡°Unless she¡¯s planning to pass as a midget or a lost kid, they won¡¯t let her through the front door.¡±

    Jessy shot him a glare. ¡°No shit, Sherlock. But we can¡¯t do this job without me. I hack things. You two just shoot stuff.¡±

    That¡¯s when an idea hit me. A stupid idea. A really stupid idea. So bad that I couldn¡¯t help but laugh.

    Jessy narrowed her eyes. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    I grinned. ¡°Okay, hear me out¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°What if you¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh?¡±

    ¡°Pretended to be my little sister?¡±

    A long silence stretched between us.

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°The fuck?¡±

    <hr>

    A few minutes later, Anderson was behind the wheel of the van, now sporting hastily applied decals to pass as a legitimate electrician company. Meanwhile, David was doing his best to make sure Jessy didn¡¯t murder him on the spot.

    The plan was simple in theory but tricky in execution. It hinged on one key factor: the police being too gullible¡ªor just too indifferent¡ªto question the presence of a child. Or at least, the closest thing to one.

    Upon arrival, they wasted no time scaling the ladders and slipping in through the rooftop entrance. Now came the part Jessy had been dreading.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± she gasped, eyes wide with exaggerated wonder as she clung to David¡¯s shoulders. ¡°So this is what the Police Department looks like?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, sis,¡± David replied, hoisting her up like any doting older brother would.

    Anderson, playing along, rubbed the back of his head with an exasperated sigh. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe they let you bring her. The company¡¯s way too lax with you¡ªit¡¯s almost like you¡¯ve got special privileges.¡±

    ¡°Hey, she wanted to dress up and tag along,¡± David said with a shrug. ¡°What kind of brother would I be if I said no?¡±

    ¡°A responsible one?¡± Anderson shot back, completely deadpan.

    The act was flawless¡ªAnderson playing the annoyed coworker stuck with his partner¡¯s nonsense, David embracing the role of the overindulgent brother, and Jessy hamming it up as the curious little sister who just had to follow along.

    And judging by the indifferent glances from the officers inside, they were pulling it off perfectly.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill you, David,¡± Jessy hissed in his ear. ¡°This is so embarrassing.¡±

    David flashed her a casual grin. ¡°Didn¡¯t hear you come up with a better idea.¡±

    ¡°Grrrrrr.¡±

    Anderson cut in, pointing down the hall. ¡°This is the room. I think it¡¯s best you leave her outside, yeah? We can¡¯t afford to break anything in the NCPD.¡±

    David nodded and set Jessy down, locking eyes with her. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got work to do in here, alright? You stay out here, try not to break anything, and I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±

    Jessy¡¯s face was a picture of barely-contained rage, but she masked it with an overly sweet smile. ¡°Okie!¡± she chirped, throwing up a thumbs-up to sell the act.

    Anderson and David entered the server room, the supposed place they were there to ¡°fix.¡± In reality, they were just waiting. Meanwhile, Jessy had to play the part of the clueless, bored kid who¡¯d somehow wandered into the PD and¡ªby pure accident¡ªfound the terminal where the crucial data was stored.

    It was a dumb plan. It was ridiculous. It was absurd.

    And it just might work.

    ¡°Radio check,¡± Anderson said over comms.

    ¡°Loud and clear,¡± David responded, despite being in the same room.

    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Jessy whispered.

    ¡°Alright, we need to look like we¡¯re working, so we¡¯ll mess around with the server data while you make your way to the main data room,¡± Anderson instructed, cracking open the toolbox they¡¯d brought.

    ¡°And if anyone gets in the way, Panther will handle them,¡± David added, casually picking up a wrench. ¡°And yes, I know¡ªno flatlining the cops.¡±

    Across the city, Seven sighed in relief from his safe spot. ¡°Glad I don¡¯t have to remind you. Still not sure how that animal listens to you, but it¡¯s an asset for now.¡±

    ¡°When should I move?¡± Jessy asked, idly swinging her feet from her chair. ¡°Playing a clueless kid is a pain. Especially when I¡¯ve never roleplayed before.¡±

    ¡°Just act like any annoying kid, and you¡¯ll be fine,¡± Seven said, scanning the PD blueprints. ¡°I don¡¯t have camera access, but the building layout hasn¡¯t changed in years. I¡¯ll guide you.¡±

    ¡°Nova,¡± she replied before hopping off the chair and skipping down the hall. ¡°I could go for something sweet right now.¡±

    And so, she looked for a vending machine. The plan was simple¡ªjack in, try to access some cameras, or at least ping the officers connected to the PD¡¯s network. A Ping wouldn¡¯t trigger alarms or alert their Netrunner, which would be suicide. It was the safest way to get a sense of security before diving deeper.

    A few seconds later, she found the machine. Mostly junk¡ªchips, candy, protein ants. But there were jelly beans. Perfect. She leaned in, drooling over the display like a kid debating their choice, and discreetly jacked in. A quick hack, just enough to slip through, send the Ping, and get out. Then, with an innocent grin, she grabbed the jelly beans and unplugged.

    Now that was a convincing act.

    Even better, she could see the patrol routes of every officer inside the PD.

    ¡°Preem. Even I can see them from here,¡± David commented as he pretended to do a routine check.

    ¡°Good. You¡¯re not far¡ªjust a few floors up,¡± Seven said, mapping the fastest route. ¡°There should be a staircase near you.¡±

    ¡°I see it,¡± Jessy muttered between bites. ¡°Oh, the red ones taste better.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t oversell the kid act,¡± Anderson snickered. ¡°We still need our Netrunner.¡±

    She groaned, making him chuckle even more.

    The stairs were completely unguarded, and the cameras wouldn¡¯t flag a ¡°child¡± as suspicious. So, Jessy walked up without a care, not even bothering to hide her face. Every so often, she stopped to read notices pinned to the walls¡ªHR reminders about securing personal belongings or complaints about employees taking communal cups home and never bringing them back. Classic human stupidity¡ªone person screws up, and everyone else suffers for it.

    She kept climbing until she reached the top¡ªthe fourth floor. Pushing the door open, she stepped into a busy office where analysts hurried back and forth, juggling paperwork. Jessy pretended to scan the room, as if looking for someone, before plopping down on a worn-out couch in what seemed to be the employees'' break room. She popped another jelly bean into her mouth, legs swinging idly.

    After a moment, one of the analysts sat beside her, distracted by his laptop. A few seconds later, he finally noticed her.

    ¡°Are you supposed to be here?¡± he asked, glancing up.

    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for my brother. He¡¯s fixing stuff that¡¯s broken,¡± Jessy replied with a bright, innocent smile. ¡°Want some beans?¡±

    Caught off guard by the offer, the analyst hesitated before shrugging and grabbing a few. ¡°Thanks. We don¡¯t get much of this stuff around here. Always too much work.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that get tiring?¡±

    ¡°A bit,¡± he admitted before tossing a few in his mouth. His face scrunched immediately. ¡°Oof¡ªtoo sweet for me.¡±

    With that, he went back to his work, barely paying her any more attention. Apparently, the disguise was still holding up.

    ¡°Jesus,¡± Seven groaned over comms. ¡°These cops are idiots. Even a kid shouldn¡¯t be in an analysis room¡ªthere¡¯s sensitive evidence in there. If you were just a proxy for a Netrunner looking to wipe their files, they¡¯d be fucked.¡±

    A pause.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to report this later. Just gotta figure out how.¡±

    ¡°We could trigger a malfunction here,¡± Anderson suggested. ¡°Depending on what systems are linked, we might be able to cause a glitch that gives Jessy an opening.¡±

    David scrolled through the available prompts on the terminal and smirked. ¡°Yeah, looks like there are a few pre-made options. Even one for the toilets. Wait¡ªwhy the hell is there a prompt for toilets?¡±

    ¡°Japanese toilets, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, those are weird.¡±

    Seven cleared his throat over comms. ¡°Jessy, the data room should be at the far end of the second corridor next to you.¡±

    Jessy glanced down the hallway in question. Officers and analysts were constantly coming and going, checking information. That was a problem¡ªshe needed time to find the right files and even longer to download them. Since she couldn¡¯t just ask outright, she leaned into her cover.

    ¡°A lot of people go in and out of there.¡± She spoke just loud enough for someone to hear. ¡°What¡¯s so important in that room?¡±

    The analyst from before followed her gaze, then¡ªjust as she hoped¡ªfelt compelled to explain.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of our database rooms,¡± he said. ¡°We store everything there¡ªtickets, crimes, profiles, transactions, impounded cars, analysis reports, anything the PD might need.¡± He tapped his laptop as he spoke. ¡°For example, I¡¯m working on this case involving Maelstrom.¡±

    Jessy leaned over his shoulder and took a quick glance at the screen¡ªfiles full of drug busts, smuggling, and other gang activity.

    ¡°This looks boring.¡± She pouted.

    ¡°It is,¡± he admitted with a sigh. ¡°But it has to be done. Otherwise, this city will never be safe.¡±

    ¡°When will it be?¡± she asked, her voice laced with just a hint of sarcasm.

    Luckily, he didn¡¯t catch it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he muttered. ¡°But I get paid to try.¡±

    Jessy gave a small nod, then turned toward the staircase. But halfway there, she casually changed direction, slipping into the second corridor instead. She could feel the presence of the lethal feline nearby, even without seeing him. Panther was close, ready to act if needed.

    ¡°¡­Did that analyst really just tell you all that?¡± Seven muttered in disbelief. ¡°Yeah, this is definitely going in a report.¡±

    ¡°Go easy on them,¡± Anderson joked. ¡°It¡¯s just a kid.¡±

    David snorted.

    Jessy¡¯s voice cut through the comms in a whisper.

    ¡°I swear, I¡¯m going to kill every single one of you. Slowly.¡±

    She wished they could see her face for just a second.

    The Ping was still active, lighting up her optics with the locations of multiple officers. Jessy tried to stay in character, but the glances were becoming more frequent. If she lingered too long, someone was bound to tell her to leave before she could even pretend to be a lost kid.

    So, she stopped in the middle of the corridor, casually munching on jelly beans until the bag was somewhat empty.

    ¡°I can¡¯t go any further without drawing too much attention,¡± she mumbled, still chewing.

    ¡°Where exactly are you?¡± David asked.

    Jessy glanced at the signs near the doors. Some read Evidence, others had names of officers she didn¡¯t care about, and one simply said Backup Arsenal. From what she could tell, she was in the backrooms of the Analyst Sector. If they could trigger a malfunction in the right area, they might be able to force the officers to relocate, giving her a window to slip through unnoticed.

    ¡°I¡¯m in the Analyst Sector,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ not as many system prompts as we¡¯d like,¡± Anderson muttered, scrolling through their options. ¡°But let¡¯s see what this one does.¡±

    He pressed a command.

    Nothing happened at first.

    Then a shrill alarm blared from one of the evidence rooms. A flashing red light pulsed above the door, and a mechanical voice calmly announced:

    "Warning: Contamination detected in Evidence Storage B. Initiating lockdown procedures. Please evacuate the area."

    Jessy froze, watching as officers and analysts immediately turned their attention toward the commotion. Some rushed to investigate, while others grumbled about yet another false alarm. A few even bolted for the exits, clearly not eager to stick around and find out if the contamination was real.

    "Preem," David murmured over comms. "What kind of contamination is it supposed to be?"

    Anderson snickered. "According to the system? Uh¡­ biohazardous vermin detected."

    "Vermin?" Jessy hissed under her breath.

    "Yeah, guess they store some nasty stuff in there. Probably flagged it as a risk of plague or something. BioTechnica¡¯s shit, most likely."

    "That is disgusting."

    "Hey, at least it''s working," Seven cut in. "You''ve got a five-minute window before they override the system and realize it¡¯s a false alarm. Get moving."

    Jessy didn¡¯t need to be told twice. As the officers rushed past her, she slipped through the corridor toward the data room. The hallway was nearly empty now, save for a single distracted analyst fumbling with his keycard at a locked terminal.

    She walked up next to him, tilting her head.

    "What''s wrong?" she asked, wide-eyed.

    The analyst sighed. "Damn thing¡¯s glitching again. Probably the lockdown is messing with access permissions."

    Jessy peeked at the keypad as he tried another code. Her optics quickly picked up on the smudges left behind from repeated use. Two numbers stood out more than the rest.

    She filed them away for later.

    "Hope you get it fixed!" she chirped before skipping past him.

    "Yeah, thanks, kid," he muttered, too distracted to think twice about her presence.

    As soon as she was clear, she whispered into comms, "I got a partial code."

    "Good," Seven said. "Now get to the terminal. We¡¯ll figure out the rest."

    The door was right in front of her¡ªlocked, of course¡ªbut that was barely an obstacle. The real problem was lurking behind the keypad¡¯s security.

    Jessy jacked in and immediately spotted the Black ICE lying in wait. If she screwed this up, it wouldn¡¯t just lock her out¡ªit¡¯d fry her brain on the spot.

    "Alright¡­ don¡¯t mess this up," she muttered under her breath, fingers moving carefully.

    She bypassed the firewall, fed the system a quick spoof, and¡ª

    Blip.

    The door unlocked with a soft click.

    She exhaled, pushing it open to reveal a vast room filled with rows of humming servers and terminals, their dim glow casting eerie shadows across the space.

    "Phew¡­ Alright, now where do they keep the good stuff?"

    "The data we need will be in the Private Service sector," Seven¡¯s voice came through her earpiece. "If our suspects are masking their activities as a legit business, that¡¯s where we¡¯ll find the proof."

    Jessy nodded, scanning the room. "They¡¯ve gotta have a directory or something. No way they remember where everything is in this mess."

    "There should be a terminal that maps the server structure," Seven confirmed.

    "Got one," Jessy said, pulling out her cable. Without hesitation, she jacked into the system, eyes scanning the interface.

    "Oh, so this is where the password goes?"

    "What do you mean?" Seven asked.

    "The partial code," she reminded him. "I can¡¯t just brute-force it, though¡ªtoo many wrong attempts and I¡¯m locked out."

    David frowned. "Wait¡ªhow is a keypad code similar to a terminal password?"

    "You¡¯d be surprised how often people reuse passwords across a building," Seven muttered. "This definitely needs to go in the report¡­ yeah, this thing¡¯s turning into a novel."

    "Glad we¡¯re your guinea pigs for testing PD security," Anderson muttered.

    "Details, details¡­"

    Jessy ignored them, fingers flying over the keys. "Alright, first try." She entered the two digits she had from before and guessed the last two.

    Lucky seven?

    Blip.

    "Alright, not seven." She frowned.

    She tried a few more combinations, but nothing worked. Worse, she hadn¡¯t even accessed the directory yet, meaning any unusual login attempts were already drawing attention. If someone was monitoring the system, they¡¯d see her soon.

    Just as she debated moving to another terminal¡ªor using the chrome in her hand¡ªshe heard the door behind her creak open.

    "Hey, kid, you¡¯re not supposed to be in here," a cop said, his voice firm but not yet hostile.

    Jessy¡¯s mind blanked. She was still jacked in, caught red-handed.

    "Uh, I¡­"

    Before she could come up with an excuse, Panther pounced.

    The massive feline slammed into the officer, forcing the door shut behind them. There was a sharp thud as the cop¡¯s head met the wall, and he crumpled unconscious.

    Jessy just stared at Panther, who lazily licked his nose, utterly unimpressed with himself.

    "...Thanks?"

    "Meow."

    No time to waste. She yanked the cable from the terminal and pressed her cybernetic hand to the ports instead, forcing a direct breach.

    The Police Department¡¯s firewall was no joke¡ªjust shy of corporate-grade. ICE slammed against her intrusion, launching counterattacks while she scrambled to defend and push deeper. Every layer she passed became more dangerous, laced with hidden kill programs designed to fry her implants.

    If not for her new chrome, she¡¯d be dead by now.

    "Access granted," the AI finally announced.

    Jessy exhaled. "Alright, where¡¯s the jackpot?"

    She pulled up the directory and quickly granted herself temporary admin permissions¡ªjust enough to move freely without triggering more security locks.

    "The alarm¡¯s off," Anderson warned. "They¡¯ll be back at their posts soon."

    Panther crouched low, eyes flicking toward the door, ready for another ambush.

    Jessy dove into the search. She filtered by most recent, most frequent, and most accessed files. The Private Service sector¡¯s list shrank rapidly until only one company remained.

    Tons of access logs. Countless entries. Many recent.

    But the weirdest part? The accesses weren¡¯t coming from the PD itself.

    Someone outside had direct access to these files. Either the system was being hacked constantly¡­ or someone inside had given them a free pass.

    ¡°Hashburry Pharmaceuticals¡­¡± Jessy muttered. ¡°Never heard of them.¡±

    Seven¡¯s voice came through her earpiece, sharp with urgency. ¡°Does the data match what we have?¡±

    She compared the files side by side¡ªnames, transactions, the faulty profits, even Nina Kraviz.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s a perfect match.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re done here. Jack out and erase your tracks.¡±

    Jessy wasted no time. She wiped her breach logs, restored the firewalls, and cleaned up her access history on both terminals. The only loose end? The unconscious cop sprawled on the floor.

    She couldn¡¯t move him¡ªhe was too big, and she was too small. Worse, if the cameras caught him lying there, the whole PD would be on high alert.

    ¡­Wait.

    She still had admin privileges.

    Jessy flipped through the security feeds until she found the camera in this corridor. Her Ping had worn off, so she sent another pulse. Silhouettes of officers lit up across the map, and she scanned for anything she could hack to cover her escape.

    There¡ªa motion sensor near the east exit.

    If she could loop its feed or trip it elsewhere, it might cause just enough of a distraction.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m setting up a misdirect,¡± Jessy whispered, fingers flying across the terminal.

    ¡°Make it quick,¡± Anderson urged. ¡°You¡¯ve already been in there too long.¡±

    She hacked the motion sensor, forcing it to trigger near the opposite end of the building. Instantly, a security alert popped up on the feed. Officers turned their heads, then moved out to investigate.

    ¡°Good. That should buy me some time.¡±

    She disconnected from the terminal, rolled her shoulders, and stepped over the unconscious cop. Panther, still watching from the shadows, flicked its tail and padded silently beside her as she slipped out of the room.

    The hallway was clear¡ªfor now.

    ¡°Heading out,¡± she murmured into comms.

    ¡°Exit¡¯s still clean. Keep moving,¡± Seven confirmed.

    Jessy moved fast but casual, popping a remaining jelly beans into her mouth as if she belonged there. She reached the stairwell, gripping the railing just as she heard voices behind her¡ªguards returning to their posts.

    With one last glance back, she descended the stairs, keeping her head low.

    Panther was gone¡ªvanished like a shadow¡ªbut the job was done.

    Jessy flopped back onto the same chair David had set her in earlier. No alarms, no rush¡ªexfiltration was way easier than getting in.

    ¡°Alright, head back to the clinic. We¡¯ll analyze the data there. Good work, everyone,¡± Seven said before logging off, his usual no-nonsense approach.

    David twisted around from the front seat of the van. ¡°So, how¡¯d it go?¡±

    BONK.

    Jessy¡¯s fist met his arm. ¡°I¡¯m never pretending to be a kid again.¡±

    ¡°Ow.¡± David clutched his arm, mock hurt. ¡°That really wounds me.¡±

    BONK.

    Another punch.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough, you two,¡± Anderson chuckled from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Anyone want a snack before we head back?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Jessy grumbled.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say no,¡± David added, still smirking.

    And with that, the first step in unraveling this money-laundering mess was complete.

 Chapter 53: Turbo Killer

    David Martinez

    We pulled up to the clinic after grabbing some burgers. Anderson knew a guy who could get us real organic meat, which was a nova change of pace. I was getting sick of my mom¡¯s noodles and those XXL Burritos. We even scored fries and a little gift¡ªway better than the synthetic crap BioTechnica sells. Even the worm farms couldn¡¯t match the classic American burger.

    Inside, Doc was still locked into his BD. We changed back into our usual clothes, and Jessy and Seven went over the files we snagged. Well, mostly Jessy did.

    ¡°These are almost identical to what we already had.¡± Jessy frowned at the screen. ¡°Only difference is, now we¡¯ve got a list of possible front businesses they use.¡±

    Seven stood up, stretching. ¡°We can dig into it later. I¡¯ve got an appointment, and let¡¯s be real¡ªyou¡¯re all in this for the money, not justice.¡±

    A second later, my agent buzzed¡ªa few thousand eddies deposited straight into my account. Nice.

    ¡°¡­And there it is.¡± Seven grabbed his bag. ¡°Come back next week. Make sure you¡¯re free by then.¡±

    ¡°Yessir,¡± we answered in unison.

    Though, I¡¯d probably need to talk to the Academy and get them to cut me some slack. Shouldn¡¯t be a problem¡ªI work for the government now, right?

    Still, I had other things to handle. Sasha¡¯s been asking to meet up for a while, but I never made time. Same for Mom. Her birthday¡¯s coming up, and even though the symbiote makes me not care, I don¡¯t want to miss it.

    Lately, whenever something feels off, I just blame the Klyntar. Makes things easier.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m out.¡± Jessy bolted for the exit. ¡°I got shit to buy¡ªand I am never being your little sister again. Ever.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, no need to stress.¡± I shrugged. She really needed to chill.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m heading out too¡ªgot things to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey, real quick,¡± Anderson cut me off, poking my shoulder.

    I turned to him. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°Do you ever take a break?¡± He took off his hat, scratching his head. ¡°You¡¯re always moving¡ªworking gigs, stacking eddies¡ªbut do you ever just¡­ stop? Relax?¡±

    I opened my mouth to answer¡ªbut paused.

    Ever since I got the symbiote, I haven¡¯t needed sleep or rest. At best, I stop when I¡¯m mentally drained¡ªbut even then, I can push through it. Anderson was right. I never just took a moment to¡­ exist. Maybe that¡¯s why I feel so disconnected? Just moving from gig to gig, never stopping to be human?

    ¡°You got a point,¡± I admitted, nodding slowly. ¡°I never really take a break.¡±

    Anderson chuckled. ¡°Well, lucky you¡ªI¡¯ve got something that might interest you.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± I raised a brow. ¡°What is it?¡±

    <hr>

    Anderson¡¯s ride was a heavily modded Galena¡ªprobably klepped from 6th Street or some other gang. He drove us into Heywood, stopping at a neutral zone used by various crews.

    To my surprise, the gangs here weren¡¯t busy flatlining each other.

    I spotted every major gang¡ªexcept the Scavs and Voodoo Boys. Maybe for the best. The place was alive with drinking, sex, BD deals, chrome trades, and betting on fights¡ªboth in the net and in the real world. Anderson didn¡¯t stop for any of it, dragging me through the crowd. Since I was with him, no one paid me any attention¡ªuntil we reached his chooms.

    ¡°Anderson!¡± One of them, a 6th Street punk, greeted him. ¡°Nova seeing you swing by! What¡¯s the occasion?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s the Tino?¡± Another pointed at me.

    ¡°What, just ''cause I¡¯m Latino, I gotta be a Valentino?¡± I sized him up.

    Thanks to my new frame, it actually worked.

    ¡°Relax, David, it was just a question.¡± Anderson stepped between us. ¡°Besides, with a name like yours, people are gonna make assumptions. You¡¯re not exactly dressed like a regular civilian.¡±

    I glanced at my fit.

    What¡¯s wrong with it?

    Anderson turned back to the group. ¡°He¡¯s David, a choom of mine. We¡¯re here for the competition.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, if he¡¯s preem, he¡¯s cool to stay.¡± They nodded. ¡°So, which one?¡±

    ¡°Competition?¡± I asked. ¡°What competition?¡±

    ¡°One where you can score chrome, iron¡­ or just eddies.¡± Anderson listed the prizes, his enthusiasm dropping with each one.

    ¡°Basically,¡± the 6th Street punk explained, ¡°we run these little competitions to test our skills. Set the fastest time, you get a prize. But you gotta pay to enter.¡±

    Another guy cocked his shotgun. ¡°And if you try to skip the fee, well¡­ you know what happens.¡±

    ¡°Relax, I got eddies.¡± I raised a hand. ¡°Now, what¡¯s the game?¡±

    Anderson pointed at a makeshift racetrack lined with targets¡ªboth human dummies and old-school archery boards. ¡°You run the track, shooting targets as you go. Miss one? That¡¯s five seconds added to your time.¡±

    ¡°And how many targets?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-three.¡± He lifted his DR-5 Nova revolver. ¡°And for this track, only revolvers.¡±

    ¡°Shit, I only got a Lexington.¡± I eyed the pistol on my holster.

    One of the guys scoffed. ¡°A Lexington? That¡¯s gonk-tier iron. You need to upgrade, choom.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± I rubbed the back of my neck. ¡°So, how much to enter?¡±

    ¡°A thousand.¡± The 6th Street guy shrugged. ¡°Usually, ten to twenty gonks join in. Covers the prize money¡­ or at least most of it.¡±

    ¡°Preem.¡± I nodded, already mentally mapping how to clear the track without sacrificing mobility. ¡°But I need a revolver.¡±

    ¡°You could buy one.¡± Anderson gestured to the vendors. ¡°DR-5s are cheap and accessible, though not as powerful as some other iron.¡±

    ¡°Good to know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait here until all the competitors show up.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡ªC-YA.¡±

    ¡°C-YA.¡±

    I wandered through the vendors, scanning their wares. There were a lot of them, some even showing off high-end tech weapons¡ªway out of my budget. But the classic power weapons were here too.

    One vendor caught my attention. A Valentino, casually spinning revolvers like he belonged in an old western. It was nova watching him flick a revolver over his shoulder, catching it without looking, then sending it into another smooth spin. As I approached, he holstered his iron in one fluid motion, shifted into salesman mode, and greeted me.

    "Welcome to Second Amendment. What can I do for you?"

    "Second Amendment?" I laughed. "Fitting name¡ªlike Ammu-Nation."

    "Huh. Never thought of that one before. Who came up with it?" He actually looked intrigued.

    "My Ripperdoc. Said she''s planning to open a gun shop soon." I shrugged. "Anyway, I need a revolver. Reliable, fast, easy to reload."

    He let out a thoughtful hum. "That¡¯s a tough ask. Revolvers aren¡¯t known for quick reloads¡­ unless you want a modified one. The DR-5 comes to mind, but that thing¡¯s everywhere these days."

    "I know," I muttered, eyeing the competitors arriving on the staircase. All of them had DR-5s, customized with different decals and colors.

    "Well, I have this too." He pulled out a revolver that looked nothing like the DR-5. "The Overture. Made by the once-legendary Malorian Arms."

    "Malorian?" I gave the iron a second look.

    "The Overture is a high-quality, powerful, double-action revolver. Holds six .42-caliber rounds in its cylinder." He gave it a quick spin before handing it to me. "Comes stock with glowing iron sights to help your sorry ass aim better¡ªthough you can mod or remove them if you want."

    I ran a hand over the frame. Solid. "Aren''t they struggling in the market, though? Last time I saw a new Malorian gun, I wasn¡¯t even born yet."

    "Yeah, since 2043," he admitted. "But trust me, Malorian won¡¯t leave you high and dry. They still make solid, reliable weapons. Besides¡­" He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "6th Street practically worships them."

    I ignored the cultish undertone. "Alright¡­ how much? With ammo."

    "Seven hundred. Comes with a full hundred rounds."

    I was already sending the eddies before he finished talking.

    "You wanna mod it?" he asked.

    "Not now."

    "Fair enough. Best of luck out there."

    I spun the Overture as I walked back, getting a feel for its weight. Not as flashy as the vendor, but smooth enough.

    Anderson was waiting, twirling his own revolver.

    Must be a natural instinct to spin revolvers.

    "I see you went with an Overture," Anderson said, eyeing my iron. "Good choice, though this track¡¯s more about speed than power."

    "I didn¡¯t want the same revolver as everyone else." I shrugged, holstering it. "Anyway, what¡¯s the prize?"

    "For iron?" One of the 6th Street guys picked up the reward.

    And damn, it was a good one.

    "This here is the SPT32 Grad. Sniper rifle. Built back when subdermal armor was getting so common that regular snipers could barely dent a target."

    To demonstrate, he lined up a shot and pulled the trigger.

    BOOM.

    The round obliterated the target.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Now this¡ª" he patted the rifle like a proud parent "¡ªwill flatline anything unlucky enough to be in its sights."

    Anderson let out a low whistle. "A Russian rifle straight outta the USSR. I¡¯ll do my best to win this one."

    "Not if I get it first," I shot back, already drooling over the Grad.

    That thing was preem. I needed it.

    "Well, pay up. We¡¯ve already got more than twenty competitors," the 6th Street guy said, grinning as he eyed the growing line behind us.

    I paid without hesitation, but I didn¡¯t go first. If anything, I wanted to go last¡ªit gave me a solid chance to gauge the competition, figure out the average times, and adjust my strategy accordingly. If I could beat the middle of the pack, I could climb the leaderboard.

    Everyone prepped their guns, stretched, and got ready for their first of three attempts.

    On paper, the course was simple.

    The first room had three stationary targets and three moving ones. If you lined up your shots perfectly, you¡¯d clear the targets, reload, and move on.

    The next section was trickier¡ªsix targets behind cover, six moving in the open, and cutouts of "hostages" mixed in between. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out you weren¡¯t supposed to shoot those.

    "Every hostage you hit adds five seconds," Anderson noted just as one of the competitors accidentally shot one.

    ¡°FUCK!¡± The guy swore, fumbling to reload.

    "So it¡¯s not just about speed," I murmured, watching. "It¡¯s about trigger discipline too?"

    "More or less," the 6th Street guy muttered. "You gotta know who¡¯s hostile and who¡¯s just a civvie. Even gangsters need to know who they¡¯re shooting¡ªbullets aren¡¯t cheap."

    I nodded. Of course it wasn¡¯t about morality¡ªjust resource management.

    The final room was the hardest. Hidden targets, moving targets, and targets that ducked behind cover. The last eleven were camouflaged¡ªnot too much, but when you were trying to move fast, your vision tended to blur details.

    By the time everyone had gone, the average time sat at 55.38 seconds, while the top five had times as low as 41.9 seconds.

    Honestly? A pretty balanced leaderboard.

    Aside from me, there were two other people that needed to go, Anderson and another guy I hadn''t noticed until now.

    ¡°Mind if I go first?¡±, Anderson asked me with a grin.

    ¡°Of course not. I want to see your face once I beat your time.¡±, I reply with the same grin.

    He spat on the ground, the grin never leaving his face, ¡°If you say so.¡±

    Anderson stepped up to the starting line, cracking his neck before drawing his DR-5 Nova with a practiced ease. The moment the buzzer sounded, he bolted forward, firing off his shots with sharp, deliberate precision.

    Bang! Bang! Bang! Three stationary targets down in quick succession. The moving ones weren¡¯t much of a challenge either¡ªAnderson barely hesitated, timing his shots between their shifts.

    He reloaded on the move, flipping the cylinder open with a flick of his wrist before slamming fresh rounds in. The second section greeted him with cover and hostages, but he didn¡¯t falter. He kept his stance low, dodging between obstacles and picking off targets without so much as nicking a single civvie cutout.

    By the time he entered the final stretch, the crowd had gotten real quiet, everyone watching as he took on the camouflaged targets. Even I had to admit¡ªthe guy had skills.

    Bang! A moving target ducked, but Anderson anticipated it, adjusting his aim and nailing it the second it popped back up.

    Bang! Bang! Click.

    He was out. Anderson rushed the last few meters to the finish, stopping the clock as he tossed out the spent rounds with a flick of his revolver.

    The scoreboard updated.

    40.75 seconds.

    A murmur spread through the crowd, a mix of impressed whistles and groans from competitors who thought they had a chance. Anderson turned to me, spinning his revolver once before holstering it with a smirk.

    "Beat that, Tino."

    ¡°Oh, cowboy, now you''re asking for it.¡±, I say, picking up my Overture, ¡°I have three attempts to beat that, don''t get too comfortable.¡±

    Anderson chuckled, leaning back against a stack of crates. "Take your time, mano. Maybe if you pray to Santa Muerte, she''ll shave a second or two off for you."

    I ignored him, rolling my shoulders as I stepped up to the line. The Overture felt heavier than the DR-5s everyone else was using¡ªhigher caliber, more stopping power, but slower reload speed. If I wanted to beat Anderson¡¯s time, I''d need to be flawless.

    The buzzer blared.

    I surged forward, raising my revolver in a smooth motion.

    Bang! Bang! Two stationary targets shattered under the force of the Overture.

    The third? My shot clipped the edge. It was still a hit, but it cost me a fraction of a second.

    I shifted to the moving targets, tracking their unpredictable motion. The Overture had a kick, but my grip held firm.

    Bang! Bang! Bang!

    All three went down, and I was already reloading mid-stride. Unlike Anderson¡¯s flick reload, the Overture took a bit more effort¡ªejecting the spent casings, feeding in new rounds one by one.

    Come on, faster!

    I reached the second area. Six targets behind cover, six moving, hostages in between.

    I took a breath, steadying my aim.

    The first shot cracked through the room, dropping a moving target. Then another. Then another.

    I ducked behind cover, quick-peeking to check my angles. One of the gangsters behind me muttered something under his breath. Probably thinking I¡¯m too slow.

    I ignored him, lining up my next shot¡ª

    Bang!

    The last moving target dropped.

    I was already shifting to the covered ones, adjusting my stance.

    Bang! Bang!

    One down.

    Bang! Click.

    Reload.

    I worked faster this time, slamming fresh rounds in as I sprinted into the final section. The toughest part.

    Camouflaged targets. Moving pieces. Everything designed to fuck with my perception.

    I tightened my grip, my senses sharpening.

    I spotted the first target at the edge of my vision¡ª

    Bang!

    Then the next.

    Bang!

    Another flicker of motion¡ªwas that a target or just a shadow?

    I trusted my gut.

    Bang!

    The last few meters blurred together. My Overture roared, my mind locked into pure reflex mode.

    Then¡ª

    I crossed the finish line.

    The scoreboard updated.

    42.02 seconds.

    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.

    Close. Too close.

    Anderson whistled. "Not bad, mano, but not enough. Looks like I''m still the fastest."

    "That was a solid time, considering my reload speed," I said, tapping the barrel of my Overture against my forehead. "And I still have two more tries."

    Anderson chuckled, nodding toward the last competitor. "Let the other guy have his turn first."

    I turned to look at him.

    And immediately forgot what he looked like.

    Average height, average build, average hair¡ªjust painfully normal. He was so nondescript he might as well have been a default character from some outdated video game. If someone asked me to describe him five minutes from now, I¡¯d probably struggle. The only thing I''d be able to say is that he was slightly older than all of us.

    Funnily enough, he also carried an Overture, same stock parts as mine.

    "Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders as he stepped up. "I think I got the hang of this. Just gotta break the forty-second mark."

    I scoffed, reloading my revolver. "Good luck with that."

    "Thanks."

    The buzzer blared¡ª

    And he moved.

    No¡ªhe didn¡¯t just move.

    He fired before the targets were even in his line of sight.

    What the fuck?

    The first three shots hit dead center before he even turned the corner. The moving targets barely had time to react before they were gunned down, one after the other, perfectly spaced, perfectly timed.

    I had been expecting another average performance to match his forgettable looks, but this? This was something else.

    He slid into the second room without hesitation, his Overture already raised. The moment a target peeked from behind cover¡ªbang¡ªit dropped. Another followed¡ªbang. He wasn¡¯t even aiming in the conventional sense; he just knew where to shoot.

    By the time he reached the final room, I was already gripping my own gun tighter.

    This guy wasn¡¯t just good. He was preem.

    Hidden targets? Down in a blink. Camouflaged targets? Didn¡¯t slow him at all. He even maneuvered around the fake hostages with pinpoint precision, never so much as grazing one.

    And then he crossed the finish line.

    The screen flashed his time: 39.21 seconds.

    Silence.

    Then Anderson whistled low. "Damn."

    I stared at the guy, trying to process what just happened.

    The most average-looking gonk in this whole damn competition had just beaten Anderson¡¯s record like it was nothing.

    He let out a satisfied sigh, casually spinning his revolver before holstering it. "Well, that was fun."

    I blinked. "Who the fuck are you?"

    "Me?" He smirked like he enjoyed the reaction. "Just the owner of Jacked and Coke. Bairei Kaburo, at your service."

    I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, no, who the fuck are you?"

    Anderson chuckled beside me. "I think what he means is¡ªwhy the hell are you so good with a revolver?"

    That was exactly what I meant.

    I had seen good shots before. Hell, I was a good shot. But this guy? He wasn¡¯t just fast¡ªhe was flawless. And yet, I couldn¡¯t sense any major cyberware in him. Not even a Kerenzikov. No movement assists, no aimbots, nothing. Just pure, raw skill.

    And I wanted that sniper.

    It was too good to let slip away.

    Kaburo just shrugged. "Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m no saint."

    "Who is?" the 6th Street guy muttered behind us. Then, with an approving nod, he added, "Solid time, though. Ever thought about joining a gang?"

    Kaburo smiled politely. "I did once, but I¡¯m a bit too close to the Valentinos. And I¡¯ve already got a biz running¡ªwouldn¡¯t be as beneficial as I¡¯d like."

    "Hmm. Fair enough." The gango didn¡¯t sound fully convinced but let it slide.

    Meanwhile, I was still trying to wrap my head around this guy. He was just a little older than us, yet he had pulled off a near-perfect run. I glanced at the leaderboard again.

    39.21.

    Mocking me.

    I had a Symbiote, and even that wasn¡¯t enough to win?

    I exhaled slowly, gripping my revolver, stepping into the line for my second attempt.

    I was going to make it quicker.

    Fuck you, Kaburo.

    As soon as the track was clear, I took a deep breath.

    Time to lock in.

    The buzzer went off, and I launched forward, using every ounce of speed I had. Fuck holding back¡ªI want that sniper.

    Three stationary, three moving. I fired from the hip, dropping the stationary targets in an instant before adjusting my grip for accuracy, nailing the moving ones in quick succession. I didn¡¯t even stop to check my shots¡ªI was already reloading, sprinting into the next section.

    Ignore the hostages. Focus.

    I fired the moment the targets entered my line of sight, squeezing the trigger as fast as I physically could. Reload. Fire. Again. Again. Again.

    I was faster than before¡ªI could feel it. If I just kept going¡ª

    JAM.

    "...What?"

    I pulled the trigger again. Nothing.

    You have to be fucking kidding me.

    The final section, and my gun jams?! Right now?!

    I scrambled to clear it, fingers moving faster than my thoughts, but every second wasted felt like a nail in my coffin. By the time I finally got the damn thing working again and took out the last targets, I knew my time was trash.

    I looked at the timer.

    59.6 seconds.

    I stared. "What the hell?!"

    "You missed a few targets," Anderson said, nodding toward the track. Two targets stood untouched, not a single bullet hole in them.

    Kaburo just laughed. "You jammed your iron and missed two targets? Ha!"

    I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

    I really wanted to put a bullet in this guy¡¯s head.

    "Don''t sweat it, David," Anderson said, patting my shoulder. "It happens. You did better¡ªjust try again."

    I clenched my jaw but kept my frustration to myself.

    Anderson went for his second attempt, shaving a bit off his time but still falling short of Kaburo¡¯s ridiculous 39.21 seconds. Then Kaburo himself took another run and clocked in at 39.37¡ªjust barely slower than his first try.

    After that, most competitors either gave up or landed around the 44.6-second mark. I watched every single one, studying their techniques, their mistakes. Even the ones using the DR-5 Nova¡ªfaster reloads, sure, but still not enough to dethrone Kaburo.

    Meanwhile, I kept refining my own approach. Adjusting my grip. Practicing reloads. Running the track over and over in my head, visualizing the angles, the timing, the shots.

    Then I stepped up to the line.

    Last attempt.

    This time, I wasn¡¯t walking away empty-handed.

    The buzzer blared¡ª

    And I moved.

    I launched forward, pushing my speed to the limit.

    Three stationary, three moving¡ªbam, bam, bam¡ªhip shots for the still targets, then I switched my grip and snapped onto the moving ones. The moment the last shot landed, I was already ejecting the cylinder and slamming in fresh rounds.

    No hesitation. No wasted movement.

    Next section.

    Six behind cover, six in the open. Hostages mixed in. I hit the first uncovered targets before they could start moving, snapped to the ones peeking out from cover, then reloaded as I crossed into the final stretch.

    Keep it together. Keep it tight.

    Last room.

    Targets shifting, moving, camouflaged just enough to be a problem.

    I tuned everything else out. The crowd, the pressure, even Kaburo¡¯s smug laughter somewhere in the background.

    My shots were surgical. Precise. A controlled rhythm of fire and reloads. I didn¡¯t jam. I didn¡¯t hesitate.

    Final target¡ª

    BOOM.

    I finished the course, heart hammering, eyes locked on the timer as it flashed my result.

    39.19 seconds.

    "YES!" I punched the air. "TAKE THAT, YOU ASSHOLES!"

    Milliseconds. I had only shaved off milliseconds, but it felt like a goddamn victory.

    This took way more effort than I expected¡ªJesus fucking Christ.

    "Hold on," Anderson cut in. "We still have our last attempts."

    "Yeah, yeah, like that¡¯s gonna matter." I waved him off, basking in my win.

    Then he started.

    I watched closely, arms crossed, still feeling smug¡ªuntil I noticed what he was doing. His route was nearly identical to mine, but he changed the order of his shots. It was subtle at first, but in the last room, it became obvious¡ªhe took out the camo targets first before going for the easier ones.

    And he was fast. Not as fast as me in raw speed, but the difference was in his movement¡ªfluid, constant, never stopping, always shooting. And his reloads? Faster than mine.

    The leaderboard updated.

    39.05 seconds.

    "OH, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME."

    Kaburo whistled. "Damn. That was clean."

    I gritted my teeth. "Yeah, real fucking clean."

    Anderson smirked at me, arms crossed. "Looks like I took back my lead."

    "Not for long," Kaburo said, cracking his neck. "I still got one more shot."

    I exhaled sharply, trying to keep my frustration in check. There was still a chance¡ªa small one, but a chance¡ªthat Kaburo might screw up. Maybe his aim would be off, maybe he''d jam his gun like I did.

    I needed that to happen.

    The buzzer went off.

    Kaburo moved like a goddamn machine.

    His first shot rang out before his foot even crossed into the first section. He barely looked at the targets¡ªjust lined up his revolver and fired, trusting his aim. Stationary, moving, cover¡ªnone of it slowed him down.

    He was even faster than before.

    My stomach sank.

    By the time he reached the final room, I already knew. It was over.

    The timer stopped. The leaderboard updated.

    38.92 seconds.

    Kaburo turned around, blowing the smoke from his Overture. "Looks like I¡¯ll be taking that sniper."

    I wanted to scream.

    I wanted to rip my hair out.

    The crowd roared¡ªsome hyping up Kaburo, others throwing half-hearted condolences my way. Not that it mattered. The 6th Street guy clapped his hands together. ¡°Looks like we got our winner! C¡¯mon, this beauty¡¯s all yours.¡±

    I watched as Kaburo took the SPT32 Grad, inspecting it with a satisfied smirk.

    My shoulders slumped.

    Anderson nudged me. ¡°You good?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°¡­Wanna grab a beer?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    I moved on autopilot, barely registering my surroundings. After all that bullshit, I needed a drink.

 Chapter 54: Money.

    David Martinez

    I slammed my tenth¡ªmaybe eleventh¡ªbottle on the table. Honestly, I lost count.

    ¡°And then, after all that, some random-ass nobody cuts the time?!¡± I let out a burp at the end. ¡°How?!¡±

    Anderson just shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of solid mercs out there. They just don¡¯t have the rep yet.¡±

    ¡°Well, they should get some then! I lost a grand and a preem sniper!¡±

    ¡°You got six grand back for third place.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant!¡±

    I grabbed another bottle, because fuck it. I wanted that damn SPT32. That thing was so good, even borgs hesitated before messing with it.

    I kept drinking, drowning in frustration. The whole thing felt unfair.

    ¡°You did good for your first time,¡± Anderson said, his tone casual but not patronizing. ¡°You¡¯re still new to the solo and merc world, right?¡±

    The other people at the bar were definitely judging me, but I didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°Yeah, I started this month.¡± I nodded, still frowning.

    ¡°Fall starts tomorrow, so if we put it on a scale from one to ten, you¡¯re like¡­ rep one,¡± Anderson counted on his fingers. ¡°And if we put your experience on a scale from one to a hundred¡­ maybe a ten? Probably less.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly a pep talk, Andy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I ain¡¯t great at this, but listen¡ªyou were also a nobody, and you still got third place. That¡¯s something.¡± He gestured toward himself and his hat. ¡°If anything, me getting second should raise some eyebrows.¡±

    I squinted. ¡°Why? You that popular with 6th Street?¡±

    He just pointed at himself again, and it clicked.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Look, I thought this would be fun, but you¡¯re worse than when we left the clinic,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t try.¡±

    ¡°I just got a lot to think about, man.¡± I sighed, my head already aching from everything I had to do. ¡°Mom¡¯s birthday, people to meet, Academy to attend¡­ and that¡¯s not even half of it.¡±

    Anderson gave a knowing nod. ¡°I feel ya, kid. When I was your age, I tried to do a lot at once. So take some advice from me.¡± He leaned in slightly. ¡°Life¡¯s about balance, not control. If you try to do everything, you¡¯ll end up doing nothing. Figure out your priorities first. Then handle the rest.¡±

    I paused, rolling that over in my head.

    It wasn¡¯t bad advice. Just one of those things that sounded obvious¡ªbut needed to be said every now and then to keep yourself grounded.

    We need both kinds of people¡ªthe ones who aim for the sky, and the ones who keep our feet on the ground.

    I had no plans of being an Icarus. No, thank you.

    ¡°Thanks, Anderson.¡± I gave him a knowing look. ¡°If you ever get invited to another one of these competitions, call me.¡±

    ¡°Will do.¡±

    ¡°Now, I gotta go. Don¡¯t wanna be late.¡±

    ¡°Farewell.¡±

    I left the bar, probably giving the locals a break from my rambling, and hopped on the first bus to Watson. Today wasn¡¯t exactly a win, but it kept me distracted. Now I had to figure out what to tackle first.

    Priorities:

    Meet with Sasha.

    Get a gift for Mom¡¯s birthday.

    Talk to Lev about that Workshop gig¡ªI might be able to help.

    And get myself a fucking car.

    Taking the bus everywhere wasn¡¯t doing my rep any favors.

    I figured I¡¯d start with the easiest. I pulled out my agent and called Sasha. She picked up almost instantly.

    ¡°David! Finally! You got time?¡± She sounded like she¡¯d been expecting this call for a while.

    ¡°I do. Let¡¯s meet on the street¡ªVik probably doesn¡¯t want to be bothered.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay! I¡¯ll be there soon.¡±

    The bus ride was quiet. Not many people around. I absentmindedly reached down to pet Panther to pass the time¡ª

    Wait.

    Where was he?

    I glanced around, checked the empty seats. Nowhere. When was the last time I saw him? He was with Jessy, right?

    Huh¡­

    I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it. The bus stopped near Misty¡¯s Esoterica. Just as I was about to sit on the sidewalk, Jackie showed up.

    ¡°?Hey, David!¡± He greeted me as usual. ¡°How you feelin¡¯? Finally outta the medicanico?¡±

    ¡°For about a week now, yeah,¡± I said¡ªthen realized something. ¡°Shit, sorry for not mentioning it.¡±

    ¡°No worries. Life¡¯s been slow anyway. Too peaceful. No new gigs coming my way, so I¡¯m just bouncing around looking for work.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that going?¡±

    ¡°Terrible.¡± He pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Either someone else snatches the gig first, or the fixer says I ain''t ¡®qualified¡¯ enough.¡±

    ¡°Damn. Sorry, man.¡± Not much I could do about that.

    ¡­Or could I?

    ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it, hermanito.¡± He waved it off. ¡°But what about you? Got anything lined up?¡±

    ¡°A few things, yeah, but mostly Academy stuff.¡± I lied. No way I was telling everyone I was working for the government.

    ¡°Still aiming to be an Arasaka graduate?¡± His eyes widened slightly. ¡°But you can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Made a promise to Mom.¡± I cut him off before he said exactly what I thought about my situation.

    ¡°Oh. In that case¡­ good for you, I guess?¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re such a gonk.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no better gonk than me.¡± He grinned.

    ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s where all the chit-chatting is coming from.¡± Misty stepped out of the Esoterica, smiling. ¡°Good to see you, David.¡±

    ¡°Misty.¡±

    She turned to Jackie. ¡°And what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Dropping this off for you.¡± He held up a small box.

    Her face lit up instantly. ¡°Oh! My package! Open it up!¡±

    I stood up, curious. Jackie popped the box open, and I frowned.

    ¡°Beads?¡±

    ¡°Yes! And these came all the way from South Africa!¡± She carefully picked up the package. ¡°Now we can finally make that mandala we talked about!¡±

    Jackie chuckled. ¡°I know, chica, I know.¡±

    I raised a brow. ¡°What¡¯s a mandala?¡±

    Misty turned to me with that dreamy look she always had, like she was about to explain the secrets of the universe.

    ¡°A mandala is a geometric pattern, often circular, that represents balance, unity, and the universe itself,¡± she said, holding up the beads like they were sacred artifacts. ¡°They¡¯ve been used in spiritual traditions for centuries¡ªmeditation, self-discovery, all that.¡±

    I gave her a blank stare. ¡°¡­So, it¡¯s just fancy bead art?¡±

    Jackie burst out laughing. ¡°Man, you really got no soul, do you?¡±

    Misty just smiled. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. Creating a mandala is like¡­ putting your mind at ease. You focus on each bead, each pattern, and slowly, everything else¡ªyour worries, your stress¡ªjust fades away.¡±

    I scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Misty. I feel like getting a sniper rifle would¡¯ve put my mind at ease, but here I am, empty-handed.¡±

    Jackie clapped a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Something tells me you''re still salty about that¡­ whatever that''s about.¡±

    ¡°Extremely.¡±

    Misty chuckled. ¡°Well, if you ever feel like trying something different, you¡¯re welcome to join us.¡±

    ¡°Appreciate it, but I¡¯ve got enough on my plate.¡±

    She nodded, unfazed. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    Just then, I spotted Sasha walking toward us, her stride purposeful, her expression hard to read.

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s my cue,¡± I said, stepping away from Jackie and Misty. ¡°See you two around.¡±

    Jackie gave me a fist bump. ¡°Stay safe, hermanito.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±

    Misty waved. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to take a deep breath every once in a while.¡±

    I left them behind and met Sasha a few steps away. She crossed her arms, giving me a once-over.

    ¡°You look like shit.¡±

    ¡°Good to see you too, Sasha.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s talk.¡±

    We stopped at the entrance of a dimly lit alley, where Sasha pulled out a cigar, lighting it up before offering me one. I shook my head. No thanks.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s this about?¡± I asked, watching her take a drag. ¡°Must be serious if you didn¡¯t talk to anyone else first.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she exhaled, then looked me dead in the eye. ¡°It¡¯s about Vomi.¡±

    That got my attention. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I was out shopping a few days ago, you know, buying girl stuff.¡±

    I kept my face neutral. ¡°No, I don¡¯t know. But go on.¡±

    She smirked, then continued. ¡°As I was about to leave, I saw Vomi walk in¡ªwith some Maelstrom. Thought maybe she was working a gig or something, but no. That wasn¡¯t it.¡±

    Her grip on the cigar tightened, bending it slightly. ¡°She was buying chems from them.¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    That gave me pause. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that? Don¡¯t Ripperdocs use chems all the time?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but she wasn¡¯t using them for patients. She bought the stuff and injected herself on the spot.¡± Sasha frowned, pressing a finger to her temple. ¡°I think it was called¡­ Anthemine? Ketamine?¡±

    I stiffened. ¡°Ketamine? That¡¯s a heavy sedative.¡±

    Memories of my ripperdoc training flashed through my head. I needed to pick up more shifts with Vik soon, or the contract would start causing problems. Another task for the ever-growing to-do list.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sasha said, exhaling another puff of smoke, ¡°but it barely slowed her down. She stumbled a little, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± I cut in. ¡°I have it too.¡±

    The symbiote. The thing that made us both different.

    ¡°I had more than ten beers earlier, and I feel completely sober.¡±

    Sasha nodded. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why she kept injecting more. And I just¡­ watched her.¡± She hesitated, shaking her head. ¡°Fuck, I don¡¯t even know how to explain it. She wasn¡¯t even there anymore, but she kept going. Kept pushing more and more into her system.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡±

    This didn¡¯t make sense. Vomi was always precise, calculated. When I first started dealing with my own condition, she kept a close eye on me, making sure I understood what was happening. She wouldn¡¯t just recklessly overdose. She knew the risks better than anyone.

    It didn¡¯t add up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Sasha sighed, taking another drag. ¡°She kept rambling about how society¡¯s fucked. How it¡¯s easier to numb the pain than to face it.¡± She glanced at me. ¡°She was¡­ you know.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s what?¡±

    Sasha gave me a confused look. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t know?¡±

    I frowned. ¡°Know what?¡±

    She flicked ash onto the pavement, then turned to face me fully.

    ¡°Vomi¡¯s the only survivor of the San Francisco Holocaust.¡±

    I blinked.

    ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the only one who survived the blast,¡± Sasha said, exhaling smoke. ¡°The only person to ever walk away from a nuclear detonation.¡±

    I stared at her. Processing.

    ¡°Oh¡­ so that explains the memories I saw¡­¡± I muttered, far calmer than I had any right to be. ¡°Vomi¡­ fuck. How does she even work?¡±

    Sasha leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees. ¡°I saw her back when she was in San Fran. She was different. Brighter. Bolder. Funnier. A little awkward, sure, but she had energy.¡± Her voice softened. ¡°Now she¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Closed off,¡± I finished.

    Sasha nodded. ¡°Yeah. Keeps everything to herself. She never even told anyone how she survived.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°No one asked?¡±

    ¡°Oh, people asked. But she never answered. Something was going on in San Francisco before the city got wiped off the map.¡± Sasha tapped ash onto the pavement. ¡°I actually helped her old crew track her down once, using the signal from her chrome. Still can¡¯t believe I pulled it off, considering how shitty the connection was.¡±

    I leaned back, staring at the cracked asphalt.

    Vomi always seemed normal to me¡ªwell, as normal as any of us could be. Even with her quirks, I never thought twice about them.

    But now?

    Now I had no idea what to think.

    Sasha took another drag of her cigar, exhaling slowly. ¡°You said you saw her memories?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Not sure how or why, but¡­ it happened.¡± I rubbed my temples. ¡°Flashes of things. Wreckage. Fire. People screaming. It was like I was there¡ªbut not really.¡±

    She eyed me, wary. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention this earlier?¡±

    I scoffed. ¡°What was I supposed to say? ¡®Hey, Sasha, I think I accidentally time-traveled into Vomi¡¯s brain¡¯?¡±

    She cracked a smile at that but quickly shook her head. ¡°Still, this is serious, David. If you¡¯re seeing her memories, it might mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± I sighed. ¡°That I¡¯m becoming more like her.¡±

    Silence hung between us. Neither of us wanted to say it out loud, but we both knew the truth¡ªwhatever changed Vomi, whatever made her survive that blast, it was inside me now, too.

    Sasha flicked her cigar away, watching the ember die out. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s handling it well,¡± she admitted. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why she¡¯s dosing herself. Trying to dull whatever¡¯s happening to her.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, drowning yourself in sedatives isn¡¯t a long-term solution.¡±

    ¡°Not unless you want to go out that way.¡±

    The weight of her words settled in my gut like a stone.

    I looked up at the sky, the glow of Night City casting everything in a sickly orange hue. ¡°So what do we do?¡±

    Sasha shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, David. But whatever¡¯s going on with her¡­ I think it¡¯s getting worse.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Well, have you seen her since¡­ everything happened?¡±

    I thought about it for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s been over a week since she disappeared, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean anything.¡±

    ¡°It means a lot of things, but sure, let¡¯s stick with wishful thinking.¡± Sasha stood up, grinding the last of her cigar under her heel. ¡°Thanks for listening. I¡¯ve been sitting on this for a while, and honestly, you¡¯re probably the only one who can do something about it.¡±

    I stood up too, offering a fist bump. ¡°I don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll listen, but I¡¯ll try.¡±

    She tapped her knuckles against mine. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve got my own stuff to handle. Oh, and do yourself a favor¡ªget some new clothes. That fit is atrocious.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    I watched her walk off before looking down at myself.

    What the hell was wrong with my clothes?

    I shook my head and made my way to the clinic. Vik wasn¡¯t around¡ªexpected, considering it was almost night¡ªso I just headed straight for the bathroom and took a long shower.

    Alright, time to figure out something for Mom¡¯s birthday.

    What the hell am I gonna do?

    Mom likes music. She also loves junk food¡ªespecially jazz, electro swing, and a big bowl of noodles. But just getting her takeout feels too cheap. I need to do something special, something to silence that nagging voice in my head that keeps telling me not to care.

    I want to care. It¡¯s my mom.

    I step out of the shower and throw on a tank top and some shorts. Simple. Then I head to the kitchen, grabbing some leftover burger patties Anderson left behind. As I toss one onto the grill, an idea starts forming.

    Cooking isn¡¯t that hard if I follow a recipe to the letter. Music, though? That¡¯s trickier¡ªI¡¯ve never played an instrument outside of rhythm games. She used to enjoy some of the games we played together before the crash, but that was more about indulging me than something she truly loved.

    Damn. Tough choice.

    ¡°That smells good.¡±

    Lev¡¯s voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to see him standing there, arms crossed.

    ¡°You gonna let Lev have one?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll make one for you.¡± I flip the patties mid-air, only half paying attention. ¡°Actually, can you help me with something?¡±

    ¡°What is it, Davey?¡±

    ¡°Mom¡¯s birthday is coming up, and I have no clue what to get her. She likes junk food and music, but I¡¯m running in circles here.¡±

    Lev tilts his head, considering. "Music and junk food, huh? You could take her out to one of those old-school jazz joints. There¡¯s gotta be a few left in Heywood."

    "Yeah, but that feels... I don¡¯t know, basic?" I sigh, flipping the burgers onto a plate. "I want it to be personal. Something that shows I put in effort."

    Lev nods, taking the plate when I offer it. "Alright, alright. What about making her a song? You don''t need to be a pro¡ªjust something simple. You got that keyboard lying around, right?"

    I blink. "How do you know about that?"

    Lev snorts, already biting into his burger. "Because it¡¯s been collecting dust in the corner since you got it. Thought you¡¯d pawned it off by now."

    I rub the back of my neck. "I¡­ might¡¯ve messed around with it a few times."

    "Then there you go! Make a little track, add some electro swing elements, and boom¡ªcustom song for your mom." He waves his burger at me like it''s the easiest thing in the world.

    I chew on the idea¡ªfiguratively, not literally, since I haven¡¯t even touched my food yet. It¡¯s definitely more effort than just buying something, and I did say I wanted it to be special.

    "You said it like I just go and tap tap tap and the music is ready. I''d need to study composition and the genre, there''s no way I''d make this on time.¡±

    Lev smirks. "Good thing you know some musicians, then."

    I pause mid-bite. "Do I?"

    He nods. "Vomi."

    "..."

    "..."

    "..."

    "..."

    "Vomi? A musician?" I scoff, finally taking a bite of my burger. "She¡¯s not even around half the time. How would she even record anything?"

    Without a word, Lev pulls out his phone and hits play on a song. I recognize it instantly.

    "Eddies for Nothing, The Refused," I mutter, nodding along to the intro. "What about it?"

    "Just listen."

    I shrug and do as he says. The opening drags a bit¡ªlong buildup, but once that riff hits, it''s impossible not to move with it.

    "Now that ain''t working, that''s the way you do it¡­"

    I freeze.

    I know that voice.

    "No way." I turn to Lev, dead serious.

    "Yes way." He grins, taking another bite of his burger.

    "How did I never notice it?"

    "Kapitan has this effect. She never leaves a trace behind."

    I lean back, still processing. Vomi, the same Vomi who holes up in clinics, obsesses over biotech, and avoids people like it''s a sport, is Poison? The vocalist of The Refused?

    "You''re messing with me," I say, pointing at Lev with what''s left of my burger.

    He just shrugs. "Believe what you want, Davey. But the proof¡¯s in the music."

    I shake my head, replaying the song in my mind. Now that I know, it¡¯s obvious. The way she bends notes, the slight rasp in her voice¡ªit¡¯s all her.

    "So what, she just¡­ records in secret?"

    Lev smirks. "You¡¯d be surprised how many people in Night City have side gigs."

    I rub my face. This changes things. If Vomi really is Poison, then she knows way more about music than I ever thought.

    "Alright," I say, setting my plate down. "That still doesn''t help, since she''s not here and I know shit about writing music." Then I shake my head. "Poison, huh? Damn, she''s seriously talented."

    "Actually, I think the only song Kapitan made was Devil Trigger. The others were¡ª"

    "I know, but she recreated them, didn''t she?" I say, still surprised. "That''s something even the best in the big leagues can''t do."

    And I¡¯m not exaggerating. Even Kerry Eurodyne didn¡¯t write all his own songs¡ªhe¡¯s got an entire backstage crew handling creation, performance, and production. That¡¯s why making music costs a fortune but also rakes in massive eddies. To think Vomi not only had the infrastructure but the skill to pull it off¡­ even after what happened in San Francisco¡­

    Shit, she''s carrying a lot, isn''t she?

    Lev shrugs, unsure how to respond. "Well, the longer you''re around Kapitan, the faster you''ll notice she¡¯s not exactly normal."

    "Oh, since you''re here¡­" I start, remembering something I needed to ask him.

    "Yeah?" Lev finishes his burger.

    "How''s that workshop plan coming along?"

    "Oh, that?" He straightens up. "I''ve got the tools and the know-how, but I still need people willing to work and a place to set up shop."

    "So you haven¡¯t found a spot yet," I say, finishing my burger and tossing the leftovers in the trash. "I can help with that. Turns out the Academy''s teachings are actually useful for something other than shoving me into some corpo cubicle."

    "Oh, I''d appreciate that, but you think you can handle it?" Lev eyes me skeptically. "No offense, but I¡¯m usually the one dealing with paperwork."

    "Yeah, but I¡¯ve got the corporate office knowledge. I¡¯ll make sure you get an excellent contract," I say with a smirk. Compared to the hell the Academy puts me through, this is nothing.

    "Alright, just don¡¯t let your mom down." He nods, then waves as he heads off.

    As for the music thing? I¡¯ll put that on hold for now. Food, though¡­ The only thing I can think of that she might like is spaghetti with meatballs. Real meat, not that fake substitute crap.

    Actually, I¡¯ve got the ingredients. Guess I¡¯ll give this a shot.

    <hr>

    So now I just need to add the sauce and wait a few minutes¡­

    Wait, why is it turning green? Why does it smell like¡­ whoa this is awful!

    <hr>

    I think I¡¯ll ask someone to watch me next time. Had to use deodorant just to get rid of the kitchen smell¡ªJesus Christ¡­

    Alright, that¡¯s done for now. I head to my room and pull up Forecloses.Net on my terminal. They usually have solid listings, but I try not to focus too much on the price¡ªjust whether the location benefits the business and if it¡¯s tolerably dangerous. If I¡¯m not careful, the place could get raided, so I take extra steps to avoid unnecessary risks.

    The plan is simple: a workshop where cars get modded and delivered to customers. But it¡¯ll also be an autoshop, selling car parts. And to sell car parts, we need cars on display, meaning it would double as a dealership. So I need a space big enough to handle all three businesses, safe enough to avoid being an easy target, and in a densely populated area to attract customers.

    Not an easy task.

    The listings are either too expensive or dirt cheap¡ªmeaning the place is either too safe or a complete death trap. If it¡¯s neither of those, it¡¯s too small. And if it¡¯s big enough, it¡¯s an unnecessary money sink.

    I decide to cut the dealership from the plan and search again. That helps narrow things down. A few locations pop up, and after digging through them, two clear choices emerge: Downtown and The Glen.

    Downtown is obvious¡ªright next to Corporate Plaza, packed with wealthy customers, plus decent security. But The Glen? The Glen is connected to every district in Night City. The space is big enough for what I need and then some, and while it¡¯s not as secure as Downtown, it¡¯s not that dangerous either.

    ¡­At least, not until you factor in the gangs.

    Still, I decide to go with The Glen. It¡¯s cheaper, and I could probably negotiate the price even lower. Plus, I notice something interesting¡ªthe website flagged the area as ¡°frequently used by the locals.¡± A red flag, if I¡¯ve ever seen one. That means there¡¯s something off about it.

    Yeah¡­ I¡¯ll need to bring someone with me for this. No way I¡¯m walking into that alone.

    God bless the Academy¡¯s teachings.

    ¡°Ciri! You busy?¡± I shout from my room.

    Her room is right next to mine, so she should hear me just fine.

    ¡°I¡¯m studying! What do you need?¡± she yells back.

    ¡°Wanna come with me on a deal that might go south?¡± I call out.

    There¡¯s a pause before she came to my room. ¡°A deal gone south?¡±

    ¡°Possibly,¡± I admit. ¡°I found a place in The Glen for the shop, but the site flagged the area as ¡®frequently used by locals,¡¯ which is a big red flag. I¡¯ll also call Jackie to back us up. I¡¯ll try to be as professional as possible.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a¡­ merc?¡± Ciri says, pausing to find the right word. ¡°I don¡¯t think you actually need us.¡±

    ¡°I know, but three people are more intimidating¡ªand reassuring¡ªthan just one,¡± I say.

    She sighs but doesn¡¯t argue. ¡°Fine, let me finish up, then I¡¯ll come with.¡±

    ¡°Alright!¡±

    I turn back to my wardrobe, which hasn¡¯t exactly grown much since I started crashing at the clinic. Not a lot of choices, and most of what I have doesn¡¯t scream professional negotiator. I need to look like I know what I¡¯m doing.

    After some rummaging, I settle on an outfit that might work¡ªclean, put together, but not too stiff. When I check the mirror, I realize I look less like a corporate professional and more like a rebellious rich kid. Not exactly the effect I was going for, but¡­ it¡¯ll have to do.

    I adjust my shirt in the mirror. It¡¯s one of the nicer ones Vomi gave me¡ªa social shirt, gym pants, and some decent sneakers that match. Not exactly a professional negotiator look, but it¡¯ll have to do. Plus, I have to admit¡­ Vomi has good taste. The outfit is clean, put-together, but still relaxed.

    ¡°I''m ready!¡±, She warned me before even getting to my room.

    ¡°Great. Lets just¡ª¡± I pause mid-sentence, realizing something. ¡°Wait, is that a sword on your back?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She tilts her head, feigning ignorance.

    ¡°You really like swords, don¡¯t you?¡± I ask, raising an eyebrow.

    She sighs. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. This one¡¯s¡­ special to me.¡± She unsheathes it, letting the metal catch the dim light. ¡°My mentor gave it to me. Before¡ª¡± She stops short, then slides it back in place. ¡°Zapomina. Let¡¯s just go.¡±

    I nod, grabbing my terminal. ¡°Alright. First, we stop by to let Jackie know what¡¯s up.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± she says, stepping aside so I can lead the way.

    <hr>

    ¡°So, you need an extra hueso for this, hermanito?¡± Jackie asks, lounging on a battered couch while Misty reads his chakras. Or maybe his fate, I don¡¯t know.

    ¡°Stay still,¡± Misty scolds, pressing her fingers to his temples.

    Jackie grins but doesn¡¯t move, waiting for my answer.

    ¡°I figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt,¡± I say, leaning against the doorframe. ¡°More muscle looks more professional.¡±

    Ciri folds her arms. ¡°Right. Because you scream professional in that outfit.¡±

    I ignore her. ¡°And besides, I get the feeling I¡¯m about to try and buy a building from gangsters.¡±

    Jackie chuckles. ¡°You just say the word, chico. I¡¯ll be there.¡±

    ¡°If nothing goes wrong, we can hang out after,¡± I say, nudging Ciri. ¡°You really need to get out of that room and live a little.¡±

    She gives me a deadpan look. ¡°I know. But I have¡­ you know what? Fine. Let¡¯s see how this goes.¡±

    Misty finishes whatever she was doing to Jackie and steps back. ¡°Alright, that should help. Just don¡¯t overthink it¡ªtrust yourself.¡±

    Jackie grins and stretches. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, chica, my instincts are sharp as ever.¡±

    Misty raises an eyebrow. ¡°Uh-huh. Just try not to get into too much trouble.¡±

    Jackie winks. ¡°No promises.¡±

    I roll my eyes and slap him on the shoulder. ¡°Come on, choom, let¡¯s go. There should be a bus around now.¡±

    As he stands, he smirks at me. ¡°Wait, you still don¡¯t have a car? Even I got a bike now.¡±

    I groan. ¡°Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Now move it before this place sells itself.¡±

 Chapter 55: Conflict.

    The trio took the bus, much to the detriment of both David¡¯s and Jackie¡¯s reputations¡ªat least among those in the underground who actually knew them. Not that either had much clout beyond their usual circles. Ciri, on the other hand, was too busy marveling at the sheer strangeness of this world. She was used to horses, dirt, monsters, swords, and different races, yet here? Everything was metal, cybernetics, and hacking¡ªsomething she still didn¡¯t fully understand.

    And somehow, despite everyone being the same species, they still managed to invent racism.

    Curious.

    This was her first real venture into this world after the portal dumped her here in the middle of that fight with the Great White. A frustrating event with no clear resolution. Still, she was grateful that Vomi had found her when she did¡ªotherwise, she¡¯d still be struggling to understand a language completely foreign to her.

    The bus pulled into their stop at The Glen. As David stepped out, a memory flickered¡ª6th Street punks beating him to a pulp, leaving him in his own blood. If they tried that again, he¡¯d return the favor. Jackie, meanwhile, was just here to watch his choom¡¯s back. As for the meeting, David was playing the part of a corporate rep¡ªtechnically not a lie, given he was in Arasaka¡¯s Academy, just not graduated yet. He¡¯d handle the negotiations while Jackie and Ciri played the role of bodyguards.

    What they didn¡¯t expect was a group of Tyger Claws waiting outside the shop. They weren¡¯t just loitering¡ªthey were patrolling, looking for something else. That was enough to get David suspicious, but they moved forward regardless.

    ¡°This must be them,¡± a woman said, her thick accent cutting through the air.

    ¡°I expected a corpo cruiser, given how you set up the meeting,¡± added another, a slim guy dressed in anime merch.

    David gave a polite nod. ¡°We¡¯re just starting, but the payment is secured¡ªno worries there.¡±

    The anime Tyger eyed Jackie and Ciri. ¡°And you brought security.¡±

    ¡°In Night City, you can never be too careful,¡± David replied, glancing at the patrolling gang members. ¡°Seems like you feel the same way.¡±

    The man let out a short chuckle. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ Maelstrom¡¯s been a pain in the ass ever since the, uh, ¡®truce¡¯ after the gang war.¡± He gestured toward the shop. ¡°You wanna take a look inside?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± David kept his voice cool, measured. ¡°Though I have to ask¡ªwhy sell this place? Doesn¡¯t seem like the Tygers would let go of useful territory.¡±

    As they stepped inside, the anime Tyger hesitated. ¡°Well, you see¡­ The location isn¡¯t exactly working out anymore. The higher-ups think we should expand elsewhere¡ªwherever my boss¡¯s boss thinks is ¡®worthy¡¯ or whatever the fuck that means.¡±

    David hummed in acknowledgment. So, the place was too hot for the Tygers. The patrols outside already told him everything he needed to know.

    ¡°The place has been cleaned up to the best of our ability,¡± the Tyger explained as the garage doors rolled open. Inside, workers were still loading cargo onto trucks. ¡°We¡¯re still in the process of moving some things out, as you can see.¡±

    Jackie let out a low whistle. ¡°Damn, this place is bigger than I expected. Preem.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it can fit cars, bikes, even trucks,¡± the Tyger said, motioning toward the open space. ¡°There¡¯s enough room for at least four cars to be worked on at once over there. Tools, equipment, and uniforms¡ªunbranded, of course¡ªare already stocked in the locker room. Which brings us to payment, since all that comes with the deal.¡±

    David scanned the garage with a critical eye. It was spacious and well-organized, making it difficult¡ªbut not impossible¡ªto spot any flaws.

    David crossed his arms, taking slow steps around the garage as he analyzed everything. It was big, no doubt, but big didn''t mean perfect. The structure looked solid, but there were clear signs of rushed maintenance¡ªpatch jobs on the walls, a few floor panels that had been hastily replaced, and a lingering scent of burnt metal, likely from a recent electrical fire or overheating equipment.

    The lockers were stocked, as the Tyger had said, but David noticed something off. Some of the uniforms had faint outlines where patches or logos had been removed, meaning this place had been repurposed more than once. Maybe it wasn''t just a mechanic shop before.

    As if anything was their front, right...

    ¡°Nice setup,¡± David muttered, tapping the side of a tool cabinet. ¡°But tell me something¡ªif this place was so well-equipped, why sell it? I get that your bosses are looking at other districts, but leaving all this behind? Sounds like either bad business or a situation too messy to deal with.¡±

    The Tyger hesitated, exchanging a glance with one of his crew before exhaling sharply. ¡°Look, it¡¯s no secret the Maelstrom¡¯s been acting up. The truce we got with them after the gang war? Yeah, turns out that was just a way for them to buy time while they rebuilt their numbers.¡±

    David raised a brow. ¡°And now they¡¯re making a move?¡±

    The Tyger nodded. ¡°They¡¯ve been pushing into our old spots, testing our patience. We had some¡­ disagreements here. Nothing major, but enough to make this place a liability.¡± He gestured toward the patrols outside. ¡°We ain¡¯t selling because we want to¡ªwe¡¯re selling because we¡¯d rather cash out before this turns into a war zone.¡±

    David clicked his tongue, looking around the garage again. So that¡¯s why they left in such a hurry. The place itself wasn¡¯t bad, but the baggage that came with it? That was the real cost.

    Jackie must¡¯ve picked up on the shift in the air because he crossed his arms, suddenly less impressed. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is, we¡¯re buying a workshop that could get hit by Maelstrom any day now?¡±

    The Tyger shrugged. ¡°That depends. They were after us. If we¡¯re out of the picture and some neutral party takes over? Maybe they let it slide. Maybe not.¡±

    David sighed. It wasn¡¯t a deal-breaker¡ªnot yet¡ªbut it meant extra steps. Precautions. Possibly more eddies spent making sure no cyberpsychos rolled up looking for revenge.

    David kept his stance firm, his expression unreadable. ¡°Alright, mister. About payment¡­¡±

    The Tyger Claw folded his arms. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious security will be a necessary investment¡ªnot just for us, but for anyone using this place long-term. On top of that, I can already tell the maintenance has been¡­ let¡¯s say, less than ideal.¡± David paced slowly, hands behind his back, eyes scanning the walls and floor. ¡°If I¡¯m going to make this a permanent operation, I need to be sure it¡¯s worth the risk. I¡¯m willing to take chances, but we need to reach a compromise.¡±

    A chuckle came from the entrance. The woman from earlier smirked, resting her weight on one hip. ¡°And what makes you think we¡¯ll agree to that, orokana?¡±

    David kept his cool, but Ciri was faster to respond. ¡°Your choom over here already admitted you¡¯re in a hurry to leave,¡± she said, her arms crossed as she studied them. ¡°If you stick around, Maelstrom will make their move, and this place? It gets torched. Which means we can buy it for pocket change.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Either way, we get a good deal.¡±

    The woman¡¯s smirk faltered for just a second before she let out a low hum. ¡°Is that so?¡± She reached for the Carnage shotgun strapped to her back, cocking it with deliberate slowness.

    David exhaled through his nose. ¡°I appreciate the support, Ciri,¡± he said, his tone suddenly cold and calculated¡ªthe same voice he¡¯d heard from corpo execs a hundred times at the academy. ¡°But refrain from speaking out of turn, especially when I didn¡¯t ask for your input.¡±

    Ciri¡¯s expression twisted into offense, and she took a step toward him, but Jackie was already moving. He placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping his voice low but firm. ¡°Not now, hermana.¡±

    David barely spared them a glance. His focus was on the Tyger Claws¡ªand the shotgun.

    The Tyger Claw woman held David¡¯s gaze, her grip firm on the Carnage shotgun. For a long, tense moment, no one spoke. The gang members at the entrance shifted slightly, hands hovering near their weapons.

    Then, the slim man¡ªthe one with the anime merch¡ªcleared his throat. ¡°Let¡¯s all relax, yeah? No need to turn this into something messy.¡± He glanced between David and his own crew before gesturing toward a door at the back of the shop. ¡°We should talk inside. Fewer ears. Less... distractions.¡±

    David nodded, not breaking eye contact with the woman. ¡°I¡¯d prefer that.¡±

    The woman snorted but slung the shotgun back onto her shoulder. ¡°Fine.¡±

    Jackie exchanged a quick glance with David, his usual laid-back demeanor masking the way his fingers twitched near his belt¡ªready to grab steel if things went sideways. Ciri, still visibly irritated, said nothing, but David could hear the sharp exhale through her nose as she followed.

    The group moved toward the back, stepping through the door into what looked like a manager¡¯s office. The lights flickered slightly, the ventilation humming overhead. The room smelled of old cigars and oil, a long-abandoned desk sitting in the middle with scattered files and an old terminal that had clearly seen better days.

    The anime-clad Tyger leaned against the wall, arms crossed. The woman took a seat on the edge of the desk, staring at David like she was still deciding whether he was worth her time.

    ¡°Alright, corpo boy,¡± she drawled. ¡°Talk.¡±

    ¡°On Foreclosure.Net, you listed this place for five hundred thousand eddies,¡± David began, casually tapping his fingers on the worn desk. Ciri and Jackie stood behind him, both silent but watchful. ¡°I get that the location is solid and that this shop has the potential to make valuable connections.¡± His tone was calm, measured¡ªcorporate. ¡°But, as I¡¯ve already pointed out, security is paramount, maintenance is a necessity, and most importantly¡ªlegality. It¡¯s obvious this place was used for more than just vehicle modifications. I¡¯m not an idiot, and I¡¯m certainly not going to ignore that when making an offer. If anything, this place isn¡¯t even worth twenty percent of your asking price.¡±

    "Twenty?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!¡± The woman shot up from the desk, her rage instantaneous.

    Jackie moved just as fast, pulling his Nue and leveling it at her. Ciri, already tense, unsheathed her sword in a fluid motion, her stance shifting like she was expecting a fight.

    The anime-clad Tyger sighed, rubbing his temple before resting a hand on her shoulder. ¡°We are in no position to discuss this, Yuki.¡± His voice was even, but there was something strained behind it. He glanced at David, then back at her. ¡°And as much as I hate to admit it, he¡¯s right. Corpos do know how to navigate contracts and negotiations.¡±

    ¡°Because they want to fuck us over and squeeze the best deal out of us!¡± Yuki snapped, her eyes blazing. ¡°What, they¡¯ll throw fifty thousand at us and call it a good negotiation? Are you gonk or corrupt?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m reasonable.¡± David¡¯s tone didn¡¯t waver, but his posture shifted slightly¡ªrelaxed, but unwavering. Jackie, sensing the moment, lowered his pistol, though he didn¡¯t holster it.

    The anime Tyger let out a slow breath before turning to David. ¡°Look, that offer is too low. I already set the price lower than what the big boss wanted. If we go any lower¡­ we¡¯ll be fucked a hundred times over.¡±

    David raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh? And how much would you consider fair for this place?¡±

    ¡°Around¡ª¡±

    BANG!

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The sudden gunfire tore through the tense atmosphere. Shouts erupted from outside, followed by the unmistakable screech of metal and the heavy thud of bodies hitting pavement.

    ¡°Shit, it¡¯s Maelstrom and¡ª!¡± The voice was cut off by a wet, choking sound¡ªgurgling, then silence.

    David''s finger stopped tapping on the table as the door swung open. The sharp whir of cybernetics filled the air as four fully armed Maelstrom stepped in, their spider-like optics gleaming red in the dim light. Their weapons were already raised, aimed directly at the room¡¯s occupants.

    ¡°Ah, there he is¡ªthe negotiator,¡± one of them sneered, his grin twisted by the metal plating on his face. ¡°Thought there¡¯d be more of you, but this? This is perfect.¡±

    Tension snapped into place instantly. Everyone raised their weapons, fingers hovering over triggers. The room became a powder keg, one wrong move away from exploding. Yet, amid the chaos, David remained oddly calm, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°I assume you¡¯re here to take over the shop?¡± His voice was measured, controlled, as if the situation barely warranted his attention. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, as if contemplating something unrelated. ¡°That, or you¡¯re after the cargo on the trucks.¡±

    ¡°Both, actually.¡± The Maelstrom leader strode forward with unsettling confidence, dropping into the chair opposite David. The servos in his cybernetic limbs whined slightly as he leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. ¡°Of course, we could sell the place to you¡ªif you¡¯ve got a million eddies to spare. Maybe more.¡±

    Jackie scoffed, his grip on his Nue steady. ¡°And what makes you think we¡¯d take that deal?¡± He spared a glance at the leader, but his focus remained on the Maelstrom guarding the door.

    ¡°Are you gonk or what?¡± one of them barked, his tone full of mockery. ¡°We¡¯ve got assault rifles. You¡¯ve got a goddamn peashooter. It¡¯s five against two. And the Tygers? Yeah, they¡¯re already dead. We own this place now.¡±

    David sighed, rubbing his temples as if this whole ordeal was more of an inconvenience than a life-threatening situation. ¡°We can talk business¡ªafter you¡¯ve finished dealing with the Tygers. How about that?¡±

    The leader let out a sharp, metallic laugh. ¡°And miss out on a kidnapping payday? Ha! Not a fucking chance.¡±

    The Maelstrom leader leaned back in his chair, metal-plated fingers tapping against the worn surface of the table. His optics flickered, scanning David like a piece of meat waiting to be carved up. The gangsters at the door shifted, tightening their grips on their rifles.

    Jackie tensed, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger of his Nue. Ciri, on the other hand, remained eerily still, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword, her emerald eyes cold and calculating.

    David, however, remained perfectly composed. He studied the Maelstrom leader for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s assume you do take us hostage. What¡¯s your plan then? Sell us to the highest bidder? Ask for ransom? Do you even know who would pay for us?¡±

    The leader¡¯s smirk faltered, just slightly. He hadn¡¯t expected David to call him out so directly.

    ¡°The Tygers might be dead,¡± David continued, his voice level, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t mean this place is truly yours. You think your war with them is over? You think they won¡¯t retaliate? They will. And if they find out you kidnapped a potential corpo asset in the middle of a business deal¡ª¡± he clicked his tongue ¡°¡ªwell, you¡¯ll have more problems than just some burned-out garage.¡±

    The leader¡¯s grin twitched, his cybernetic fingers curling into a fist.

    Jackie glanced at David, catching on to his angle. ¡°Yeah, choom. You think Arasaka, Militech, or hell, even a fixer with enough pull wouldn¡¯t take an interest in this kind of fuckup?¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°You ain¡¯t thinking long-term, amigo.¡±

    The Maelstrom at the door shifted uneasily. They weren¡¯t stupid; even they knew that some jobs came with baggage too heavy to carry.

    David leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more confidential tone. ¡°You want money? Fine. There¡¯s still cargo in this place, isn¡¯t there? You let us walk, we don¡¯t give a damn what you take from the Tygers¡¯ stash. Hell, we might even be willing to grease some wheels to make sure no one else comes looking for this place for a while.¡±

    The leader tilted his head, considering. His optics whirred as he glanced between his crew. He wasn¡¯t an idiot¡ªDavid was giving him an out. A way to profit without taking on the extra risk of kidnapping someone who could bring even bigger sharks into the fray.

    The silence stretched, the weight of it pressing down on the room. Then, finally, the leader snorted. ¡°Heh. You got some preem balls, corpo-boy.¡± He tapped the table twice, then stood. ¡°Fine. You get to walk. But I expect some of that ¡®grease¡¯ you mentioned, yeah?¡±

    David gave a small, knowing smile. ¡°Naturally.¡±

    The Maelstrom lowered their weapons. The tension in the room didn¡¯t vanish, but it shifted¡ªfrom immediate violence to cautious understanding. Jackie let out a slow breath, lowering his Nue. Ciri remained still, her eyes locked onto the Maelstrom leader like a predator sizing up prey.

    "Are you serious?! Weren¡¯t you going to buy it from us?!" Yuki growled.

    THUD

    A swift strike with the butt of a weapon cut her off mid-sentence.

    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, shut up,¡± the anime Tyger muttered under his breath.

    The Maelstrom leader barely spared them a glance, waving them off with a lazy flick of his wrist. ¡°Get out of here. But don¡¯t take too long¡ªwe got biz to finish.¡±

    David gave a slow nod, then signaled for Jackie and Ciri to move. They backed toward the exit, weapons still in hand, eyes locked on the Strom. As soon as they stepped into the garage, the full scope of the situation became clear¡ªevery Tyger was dead, their bodies sprawled out in pools of blood. More Maelstrom were busy looting, prying open crates, ripping wires from cars, and laughing amongst themselves.

    David¡¯s hand slid smoothly to his Overture.

    ¡°Jackie, Ciri?¡± His voice was quiet, controlled.

    ¡°What?¡± Ciri paused, catching the shift in his tone.

    David¡¯s expression remained cold, detached. ¡°Kill on sight.¡±

    BANG

    The first shot cracked through the air, and the Maelstrom standing over a crate dropped instantly, a bullet tearing through his skull. Jackie didn¡¯t need to hear it twice¡ªhis Nue barked out shots, lighting up the doorway as he gunned down the ones still inside.

    Ciri moved like a ghost, swift and precise¡ªone step, two, then a clean swing. The Maelstrom leader barely had time to react before his head separated from his shoulders, rolling across the floor as his body slumped forward.

    The hostage situation ended in an instant.

    But the real problem was still outside.

    The remaining Maelstrom whipped around, shouting, rifles raising in their direction. David threw himself behind a stack of cargo crates just as bullets shredded through the air. Shrapnel bit into his coat, but nothing vital. Jackie pressed against the doorframe, laying down suppressive fire, while Ciri darted to the opposite side, her sword already gleaming with fresh blood.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± David muttered under his breath. ¡°This turned ugly.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you think?!¡± Ciri snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Jackie dashed forward, drawing attention just as planned¡ªbeing the biggest guy in the room had its advantages. Some of the Maelstrom turned their guns on him, giving Ciri just enough time to slip away to a better vantage point.

    David, keeping low, fired his Overture at a stack of crates near one of the cars. The bullet struck a fire extinguisher, triggering an explosion that sent a thick cloud of smoke billowing through the garage. It gave them cover, but also blinded both sides, turning the fight into a chaotic scramble.

    Ciri crouched behind one of the trucks, waiting for an opportunity.

    ¡°Reloading!¡± one of the Maelstrom called out.

    ¡°Oh no, you won¡¯t,¡± Ciri muttered, already moving.

    She struck with precision¡ªher blade slashed across the thug¡¯s torso as he dodged, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough. Before he could react, she drove her sword through his chest with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior. Another Maelstrom raised his gun, aiming to avenge his fallen choom¡ª

    BANG

    David put a bullet clean through the bastard¡¯s head before he could fire.

    Jackie, still playing bait, took out a couple of gangers, but it was clear his Nue wasn¡¯t hitting as hard as David¡¯s Overture or Ciri¡¯s blade. Even so, he wasn¡¯t backing down.

    ¡°C¡¯mon! Can¡¯t you putos shoot any better?!¡± Jackie taunted.

    ¡°Fuck off!¡ª¡± one of them snapped, right before David put a round in the back of his neck.

    Jackie chuckled. ¡°Hehe, never gets old.¡±

    BANG BANG

    Ciri finished another one by slamming his head into the hood of his own car, while David handled the last two with clean, precise shots.

    Spinning his revolver before holstering it, David let out a whistle. ¡°That was way too messy, even for my liking.¡± He coughed, wrinkling his nose. ¡°What is that smell?¡ªOh. I see.¡±

    One of the Maelstrom corpses was slumped over, a pool of CHOOH2 spreading beneath him, dangerously close to igniting.

    David moved fast, dragging the body away before things got any worse.

    ¡°David!¡± Ciri¡¯s voice snapped through the aftermath.

    She was marching toward him¡ªand she didn¡¯t look happy.

    ¡°What?¡± David asked, genuinely unaware.

    SLAP

    His head snapped slightly to the side as the sting settled in.

    ¡°Never. Ever. Talk to me like that again! What the hell were you thinking?!¡±

    David blinked, touching his cheek. ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®ow¡¯ me!¡±

    Jackie, brushing off his coat, raised a hand. ¡°He needed to roleplay, chica! Otherwise, the deal wouldn¡¯t even¡ª¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t happen! Look at this place!¡± Ciri gestured with her sword at the bodies, the blood, the wreckage¡ªthen sheathed it with a frustrated huff. ¡°This is your idea of negotiation?!¡±

    David crossed his arms. ¡°Hey, this is Night City. Nothing ever goes as planned.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s your excuse?!¡±

    ¡°We knew the risks, Ciri. You can¡¯t blame me for something you were aware of yourself.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can! Because it didn¡¯t involve walking into a gang war!¡±

    Jackie scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°A deal with a gang fresh out of a war with another gang, and you didn¡¯t expect a bloodbath? I don¡¯t even know where to begin.¡±

    ¡°You two¡ª Ugh.¡± Ciri exhaled sharply and sat on the hood of one of the Maelstrom cars. ¡°At least finish the deal.¡± She nodded toward the two remaining Tyger Claws, who were cautiously making their way out of the room.

    ¡°The hell happened here?¡± the anime Tyger muttered. ¡°This is a serious war declaration¡­ Fuck, this is bad.¡±

    ¡°What are you three still doing here?¡± Yuki snapped, eyes narrowed. ¡°I thought you set us up.¡±

    David shook his head, slipping back into his corporate demeanor. ¡°Please. If I wanted this shop so badly, I¡¯d take it with my own squad. Using Maelstrom for an attack?¡± He scoffed, as if the mere thought was beneath him.

    ¡°And,¡± Jackie added with a grin, ¡°we kinda, you know, protected your place?¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Yuki crossed her arms.

    ¡°If we were the ones attacking,¡± Ciri said, hopping off the car hood, ¡°why the hell would we wipe out our own people?¡±

    David sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°Regardless, the deal still stands. And, given the circumstances, the price needs to be adjusted. No negotiating on that.¡±

    The anime Tyger barely hesitated. ¡°Fine. 250K.¡±

    David smirked. ¡°A hundred.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Yuki frowned. ¡°Two hundred.¡±

    ¡°A hundred and fifty.¡± David met her gaze, unwavering.

    ¡°A hundred and seventy-five, and we call it done.¡±

    David gave a curt nod. ¡°Deal.¡± He extended his hand.

    Yuki spat in her palm before shaking his. David didn¡¯t even flinch. A messy deal¡ªbut a deal nonetheless.

    <hr>

    ¡°Alright,¡± the anime Tyger said, finalizing the transfer of funds. ¡°I let the higher-ups know about the place. They had one request in return.¡±

    David tapped his foot impatiently. ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°If the Tygers use the shop¡¯s services, they get a 50% discount.¡±

    ¡°Fifty?¡± Jackie raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s a helluva lot.¡±

    ¡°Considering how little we paid for the place, I¡¯d say that¡¯s more than reasonable.¡± David chuckled. ¡°If I were them, I¡¯d be asking for free services.¡±

    ¡°Of course you would,¡± Yuki muttered, unimpressed.

    ¡°The paperwork will be delivered soon,¡± the anime Tyger added, standing up. ¡°I still need to clear this cargo out. Shit¡­ this was a heavy loss.¡±

    David smirked, stepping aside. ¡°Good luck.¡±

    This time, they left with no risk of an ambush.

    As the door clicked shut and the trio was finally alone, a collective sigh filled the room.

    ¡°Man, that was intense,¡± David groaned, slumping like a puppet with its strings cut. He slid down the wall in slow motion, practically melting onto the floor. ¡°No way the Academy prepared me for this kind of negotiation.¡±

    Jackie let out a deep breath and followed suit, sliding down next to him. ¡°If you were a real corpo, this might¡¯ve been a skyrocketing career move for me.¡±

    Ciri, ever the contrast, simply sat down¡ªback straight, legs crossed, as if she were attending a high-society gala instead of surviving a gang shootout. ¡°If this was a tame experience, I really don¡¯t want to know what you consider an exciting one.¡±

    David groaned from his puddle of exhaustion. ¡°Probably involves more explosions. And, like¡­ a mech or something.¡±

    Jackie nodded sagely. ¡°Yeah. And at least one high-speed chase.¡±

    Ciri shook her head. ¡°You two are gonks.¡±

    David waved a lazy hand in the air. ¡°Okay, but hear me out¡ªwhat if next time, instead of Maelstrom, it¡¯s Militech?¡±

    Jackie groaned, rubbing his face. ¡°Oh, great, now we¡¯re adding corpo shootouts to the mix. What¡¯s next, Arasaka?¡±

    Ciri scoffed. ¡°At this rate, we¡¯ll be pissing off the entire city before the month is over.¡±

    David snorted. ¡°Hey, that just means we¡¯re climbing the Night City social ladder! One enemy at a time.¡±

    "Don''t you work for the¡ª."

    "YES, I DO.", David interrupted swiftly, "And that means we are climbing the ladders of society!"

    Jackie gave him a deadpan look. ¡°Hermano, that¡¯s not how ladders work.¡±

    Ciri pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°That¡¯s not how anything works.¡±

    For a moment, there was silence¡ªjust the three of them sitting in the wreckage of what was supposed to be a simple business deal. Then, almost in sync, the absurdity of it all hit them.

    First, a chuckle. Then, a snicker. And before they knew it, they were laughing¡ªthe kind of wild, exhausted laughter that only comes after barely cheating death.

    Jackie wiped a tear from his eye. ¡°Man¡­ we really suck at smooth deals.¡±

    David just shook his head with a grin. ¡°Yeah, but damn, it makes for one hell of a story.¡±

    Ciri wiped a teary eye and stretched. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll admit it was kinda fun. So¡­ what now?¡±

    David sighed and started ticking off fingers. ¡°Wait for the legal papers, save up to fix the place, hire people, and get actual working equipment.¡±

    Jackie whistled, glancing around. ¡°Yeah, this shop¡¯s seen better days. You¡¯re gonna need a serious upgrade. Also, don¡¯t forget¡ªyou still need a name for this dump.¡±

    David groaned. ¡°Oof, didn¡¯t even think about that. Guess I¡¯ll pawn that off to Lev. I¡¯ve done way too much already.¡±

    Ciri snickered. ¡°Oh, great. So we¡¯re trusting Lev with the name? What¡¯s he gonna call it, ¡®Motherland Motors¡¯ since he never shuts up about Russia?¡±

    Jackie raised a brow. ¡°What is his deal with that place anyway?¡±

    ¡°No clue,¡± David shrugged.

    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s all, I¡¯m out. Just make sure you don¡¯t forget to pay me, hermano.¡± Jackie stretched before heading toward the door.

    David frowned. ¡°Wait¡­ did I actually agree to that?¡±

    Ciri crossed her arms and deadpanned. ¡°Are you seriously not gonna pay him after he literally put his life on the line?¡±

    David quickly waved his hands. ¡°I was joking, obviously.¡±

    Nice save, David. He mentally patted himself on the back.

    Ciri, of course, did not believe him.

    Jackie, already halfway through the door, turned back with a knowing smirk. ¡°Yeah, sure, sure. Just remember, I do accept payment in beer.¡±

    David scoffed. ¡°Oh, so you nearly die and your first thought is ¡®where¡¯s my six-pack¡¯?¡±

    Jackie shrugged. ¡°Gotta have priorities, hermano.¡±

    Ciri shook her head. ¡°And this is why I work alone.¡±

    David snorted. ¡°Yeah, because that worked out so well today.¡±

    Ciri rolled her eyes but couldn''t fight the grin tugging at her lips. ¡°Okay, fair. But next time, I expect a plan that doesn¡¯t involve ¡®winging it and hoping for the best¡¯.¡±

    Jackie chuckled. ¡°Oh, so no Night City plans then?¡±

    That got a laugh out of all of them. Because, really, in this city, when did anything ever go according to plan?

 Chapter 56: A New Error

    Maine grunted as Sasha injected the shard into his neck socket. ¡°So, in simple terms, this thing tells me when my brain¡¯s about to melt?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Sasha confirmed, stepping back.

    Maine had already told her he didn¡¯t need it, but ever since that Ripperdoc went missing, she¡¯d been obsessively cautious¡ªdouble-checking every gig, revising every plan, making sure everything went not just smoothly, but safely. She¡¯d gotten so paranoid that people were starting to call her a doughgirl for it, which, considering how reckless she used to be, was a hell of a shift. It was like she suddenly started doubting everything around her.

    It was so not Sasha.

    ¡°This obsession of yours is getting on my nerves,¡± Maine finally muttered. Not that he could really blame her.

    Cyberpsychosis cases were spiking, and while the meds Dr. Vomi had given him were working, Sasha still insisted on extra precautions.

    ¡°Safety first,¡± she shot back.

    ¡°Says the chick who almost got flatlined by corpo drones,¡± Pilar snarked from across the room, barely looking up from his phone. A second later, he grinned. ¡°Oh, nice loot.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, fuck you too,¡± Sasha huffed, puffing out her cheeks in protest. She turned to Dorio and held up another small device¡ªshaped like a cat, for some reason. ¡°Here, this one¡¯s for you. It¡¯ll warn you if Maine¡¯s levels go haywire.¡±

    Dorio raised an eyebrow, turning the tiny gadget over in her fingers. ¡°And what exactly counts as ¡®haywire¡¯?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll know,¡± Sasha replied, giving Maine a pointed look before stepping back with a grin. ¡°Anyway! I got some gigs lined up, and one of them promised me a sweet ride as payment! Been working on a paint job for a while¡ªcan¡¯t wait to test it out.¡±

    Maine smirked. ¡°Lemme guess. Cat-themed?¡±

    ¡°No¡­?¡±

    Maine snorted. ¡°Yeah, alright. Get outta here, Sasha. Don¡¯t let us hold you back.¡±

    ¡°Just take care of yourself,¡± she warned one last time before skipping out, humming a little tune.

    The moment the door shut, Maine exhaled and leaned back. ¡°Finally¡­ She¡¯s been like this ever since that Vomi woman chipped the Sandevistan.¡±

    ¡°Well, Vomi¡¯s an old choom,¡± Dorio reminded him. ¡°Remember that day in the van?¡±

    Yeah. That had been depressing.

    ¡°I just think Sasha values her opinion more than your ego,¡± Dorio added with a smirk.

    Maine rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the recliner. ¡°Whatever. Now we can talk real biz.¡± He grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped the cap, and took a swig. ¡°We got a new gig lined up. But we won¡¯t need the whole crew for this one.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s why it¡¯s just us three?¡± Pilar asked, still glued to his phone. ¡°Oh, missed that one.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here, dumbass.¡±

    Rebecca punched Pilar¡¯s arm hard enough to make him wince.

    Maine ignored them. ¡°I think this time, you might actually be useful,¡± he said offhandedly.

    Rebecca blinked. Then her eyes lit up. ¡°Wait¡ªfor real?!¡± She practically bounced out of her seat. ¡°Does this mean I finally get to flatline some gonks?!¡±

    Maine smirked, but there was something way too smug about it.

    ¡°Yeah, about that¡­ I don¡¯t think you¡¯re gonna like it.¡±

    Rebecca¡¯s excitement immediately crashed. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Riiiiight¡­ What¡¯s the catch?¡±

    Dorio crossed her arms. ¡°This one¡¯s not a simple gig,¡± she said, keeping things casual¡ªtoo casual. ¡°Client¡¯s dealing with human trafficking, and the gangsters running it? Real fucking smart.¡±

    Pilar finally tore his eyes away from his phone. ¡°Okay, but how smart? Smart as in ¡®efficient at their job¡¯ or smart as in ¡®somehow never leave a single breadcrumb even when they fuck up¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡± Maine leaned back against the wall, expression unreadable. ¡°And to be precise, they¡¯re not just traffickers. They¡¯re chrome scavengers¡ªkidnapping people, ripping out their cyberware, then selling it on the Black Market.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that Scav shit?¡± Rebecca frowned. ¡°Why¡¯s a new gang doing something Scavs already got covered?¡±

    ¡°Scavs take anyone,¡± Dorio clarified, pulling out a tablet. ¡°These guys? Very specific targets.¡± She swiped through several photos. ¡°Check it out.¡±

    Rebecca lazily flipped through them, unimpressed. ¡°Boring¡­ boring¡­ also boring¡­¡± Then she paused. ¡°¡­Wait. Why are they all suits?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the kicker,¡± Maine nodded. ¡°They only go after corpos. But that¡¯s not all.¡±

    Dorio swiped again. ¡°All of them work for Petrochem.¡± She kept scrolling through more profiles. ¡°HR department, financial analysis, software development¡­ Each one has some level of insight into Petrochem¡¯s operations here in Night City.¡±

    Rebecca¡¯s expression scrunched up. ¡°Jeez. Ain¡¯t this a bit too big for us? This screams corporate infiltration.¡±

    Pilar hummed in agreement. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t see how this isn¡¯t some corpo feud. For all we know, it¡¯s some other megacorp screwing with Petro¡¯s supply chain.¡±

    Rebecca crossed her arms, frowning. ¡°And why did you say we don¡¯t need the whole crew for this? This is huge! Feels like you¡¯re setting me up to fail before I even start.¡±

    Maine didn¡¯t react. He stayed just as calm as ever. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. The client says Petrochem has never reported a breach in their systems. But think about that for a second.¡±

    He gestured loosely with his beer bottle. ¡°Petro¡¯s a giant. They make a fortune daily. Their security budget is insane. Yet somehow, these people are getting hit, and nothing¡¯s being done about it?¡±

    Rebecca scowled. ¡°All I¡¯m hearing are problems, Maine.¡± She threw up her hands. ¡°Are you seriously giving me a shot¡ªfinally¡ªand it¡¯s on some bullshit impossible gig?!¡±

    ¡°Hard doesn¡¯t mean impossible.¡± Maine shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

    ¡°Maine!¡± Rebecca practically growled.

    Dorio placed a massive hand on Rebecca¡¯s head, effortlessly keeping her in place. ¡°Hey, quick question¡ªdo you like dresses?¡±

    Rebecca blinked. ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°You know, dresses.¡±

    She gestured aggressively at herself. ¡°Do I look like someone who wears a dress?¡±

    To be fair, her usual ¡°outfit¡± consisted of underwear, shoes, and maybe one of Pilar¡¯s oversized jackets if she needed to avoid public indecency charges. Her whole thing was about not covering up.

    ¡°Well,¡± Dorio ruffled her hair like she was a stubborn kid, ¡°you¡¯re gonna have to wear one.¡±

    ¡°What?! Why?!¡±

    Maine, clearly enjoying himself way too much, barely held back a chuckle. ¡°Because you¡¯ve got a special interview with Petrochem, that¡¯s why.¡±

    Rebecca¡¯s face contorted with sheer disbelief. ¡°I am not wearing a dress, and I am not playing corpo suit!¡±

    <hr>

    She was, in fact, going to wear a dress and playing corpo suit.

    Standing in an elevator that took forever to reach her floor, Rebecca scowled at her reflection in the shiny metal doors. This plan was stupid. The dumbest gonk-ass plan Maine had ever come up with. But she also couldn¡¯t think of anything better¡ªand she hated that even more.

    It was unfair! Now, she had to sit through an "interview" that had already been pre-rigged to be ¡°flawless.¡± And of all people, she was the one being interviewed? What a joke.

    Maybe if she survived this, she¡¯d start poisoning Maine¡¯s meds. Just a little. Just enough to make him miserable.

    ¡­Thoughts for later.

    The elevator doors finally slid open. A Petrochem employee was already waiting to escort her to the meeting room.

    The plan itself was simple: Rebecca was posing as a new intern, brought in under the guise of helping Petrochem figure out why they hadn¡¯t been attacked yet. The fabricated reason? Unstable chemicals. If Petrochem had managed to create an artificial fuel source that worked as efficiently as gasoline, then keeping the formula stable was crucial. And with the company practically swimming in eddies, it wasn¡¯t hard to fake an urgent hire.

    Her real role? Bait.

    Once she got "kidnapped," the crew would track the custom signal hidden in her chrome. All thanks to Sasha''s paranoia, since she made one signal for everyone in the crew. That would lead them straight to the operation¡¯s headquarters, allowing them to wipe it out before things got really out of hand.

    A reckless, insane plan.

    Just crazy enough for Rebecca to accept.

    Begrudgingly, but she accepted.

    ¡°Come this way, please,¡± the employee said, his polished shoes clicking against the pristine corporate floors.

    Rebecca didn¡¯t bother responding. She didn¡¯t need to. The interview was just a formality¡ªa way to officially register her in Petrochem¡¯s system so whoever was targeting the company would have access to her data and mark her as their next target. Of course, the records had to be backdated; if her file was too new, it would be obvious bait.

    Inside the meeting room, the employee sat down, tapped away at a tablet, then slid it across the table to her.

    Rebecca skimmed through it. The instructions outlined the best possible responses for the questions she¡¯d be asked, tailored to match her fake profile. Her grip tightened on the device.

    "They actually think I need a step-by-step script to sound convincing?"

    ¡°Welcome, Mrs. Rebecca¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just Rebecca,¡± she interrupted, her voice carrying the same polished corporate tone David had taught her back at the Jacked and Coke.

    The employee gave a curt nod. ¡°Understood. Petrochem is one of the most¡ªif not the most¡ªimportant corporations in the world. Given that, you understand how vital your role here is, correct?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± she replied, stifling a yawn.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s begin.¡±

    He tapped his fingers against the table, then launched into the first question.

    Then another.

    And another.

    It was all basic interview fodder¡ªstrengths, weaknesses, motivations. Rebecca read directly from the tablet, word for word, but refused to deliver the answers with any enthusiasm. If they wanted the perfect corporate candidate, polished to a shine, she wasn¡¯t giving it to them. Instead, she played along with malicious compliance.

    Unbeknownst to her, that actually made the interview more convincing. Someone valuable enough to be rushed into a last-minute hiring process wouldn''t waste time on bullshit formalities. She was impatient, disengaged¡ªlike someone too important for this whole charade.

    ¡°Can we move on? Please?¡± she finally asked, irritation clear in her voice.

    The employee hesitated. That wasn¡¯t in the script. But he nodded anyway. ¡°As you wish, Mrs. Rebecca.¡±

    He powered down the tablet and handed her a temporary access pass for her agent. ¡°This will allow you to navigate your assigned sector with minimal restrictions. I¡¯ll take you to your office.¡±

    Rebecca didn¡¯t bother hiding her scowl. It actually worked in her favor¡ªsome of the other Petrochem employees shot her wary glances but quickly looked away when she met their eyes. The sheer discomfort she radiated made this whole thing slightly less annoying.

    ¡°I must stress the importance of discretion,¡± the employee said suddenly. ¡°The plan will fail if you deviate from your role. We cannot afford any mistakes. Is that clear?¡±

    ¡°Crystal.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± He stopped in front of a door marked Unstable Chemicals Sector. ¡°You¡¯ll also need to sign an NDA. All research conducted here is strictly confidential until it¡¯s ready for release.¡±

    Rebecca barely acknowledged him. She was too busy scanning the area, trying to piece together exactly what this division was working on¡ªor at least, what she could decipher from the glimpses she caught.

    The first one was clear enough. It was a chamber labeled ¡°Smart Fog.¡± According to the description, it contained a nanobot-based drone designed to pacify rioters by making them docile. However, prolonged exposure to it had some disturbing side effects¡ªhallucinations, paranoia, and loss of motor functions. In some cases, people never ¡°woke up¡± at all, or so the researchers claimed.

    The second one was less straightforward, but Rebecca could piece it together. It involved a bacteria engineered to break down trash and release a specific gas that could be used as fuel. But the chamber was marked ¡°BIOHAZARD,¡± which suggested that this bacteria didn¡¯t just consume waste. Maybe they¡¯d accidentally created a bioweapon, or perhaps they were trying to weaponize it¡ªRebecca¡¯s money was on the latter.

    The last one, however, was a total mystery. She couldn¡¯t make sense of it at all.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    The last chamber had no obvious indicators of what was inside. No tags, no warnings¡ªjust a reinforced glass window showing a metallic pod with various tubes snaking in and out of it. Unlike the other projects, this one wasn¡¯t running tests. It was just¡­ sitting there.

    Rebecca narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of it. Whatever was in that pod, someone didn¡¯t want it labeled. That either meant it was too classified for even internal documentation, or no one really understood what they were dealing with yet.

    ¡°Something caught your attention?¡± the employee asked, noticing her hesitation.

    ¡°Just curious,¡± she replied, forcing herself to sound uninterested. ¡°Not often you see a research project without a name.¡±

    The employee gave a tight smile. ¡°Some things are best left unspoken.¡±

    Rebecca let it go, at least for now. This wasn¡¯t the time to dig deeper¡ªnot yet. The plan was still in motion, and she had a kidnapping to schedule.

    ¡°This is your office,¡± the employee said, gesturing toward a spacious room. A sleek desk sat in the center, complete with a terminal, a panoramic view of the city, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªa personal drink cabinet. ¡°Temporarily, of course. Make sure to appear busy so we have records of your activity. We¡¯ll let you know when you can slack off.¡±

    ¡°Nova,¡± Rebecca muttered, finally perking up.

    Specifically at the sight of the tequila bottle in the cabinet.

    ¡°Please refrain from using slang inside the facility,¡± the employee said, his patience already wearing thin. ¡°You need to stay in character. We¡¯ve arranged it so you won¡¯t have to interact with others, but at least act the part.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°I know how to fake working, corpo. No need to get all bent outta shape.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± He turned to leave but paused at the door. ¡°Make sure your associates are ready.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±

    As soon as the door shut, Rebecca grabbed the bottle, poured herself a drink, and downed it in one go. She was going to need a little alcohol to deal with today¡¯s absolute bullshit.

    She approached the terminal, scanning the basic work-related files assigned to her sector¡ªthen promptly ignored them. Instead, she poked around the corporate applications. To her surprise, one of them was a civilization management game. With nothing better to do, and no intention of actually working, she decided to indulge.

    It was painfully boring. Every decision had consequences. And she hated consequences. Where was the fun in overanalyzing every tiny choice? Where were the explosions? The high-speed cars? The guns? Where the hell were the customizable LMGs?!

    Frustrated, she shut the game down and started searching for videos instead¡ªdrunken disasters at parties, people puking their guts out after the supposed best night of their lives. It put a small smirk on her face. Watching people completely wreck themselves just to get a moment of peace¡­

    A moment of peace.

    That thought made her pause.

    Pilar had always been a gonk, focused on the now instead of the future. She wasn¡¯t much different¡ªbut at least she wanted something more than what they had now. When he first said he joined a crew, she¡¯d called bullshit. No one would seriously take Pilar for gigs. But then Maine and Dorio had shown up at their doorstep, proving her wrong. If he could get in, why couldn¡¯t she?

    And that was the problem. She couldn¡¯t, no matter how hard she tried.

    Pilar got his cut of the deals. She got¡­ nothing. Just a tagalong. A background character. The crew¡¯s annoying little midget. A joke.

    That wasn¡¯t a way to live.

    But what could she do? No matter how much energy, enthusiasm¡ªoverenthusiasm¡ªshe threw into things, it always seemed to rub people the wrong way. She wasn¡¯t really wanted; she was tolerated. And now, this gig? Maybe it was just the first time Maine actually found a use for her. Because when it came down to it, she had never even been in a proper gunfight before.

    How was she supposed to take that? Too many layers. Too many angles.

    And thinking was hard.

    So she sighed, pulled up the task list on the terminal, and got to work.

    <hr>

    The employees did what they always did whenever a new supervisor, inspector, or any other high-ranking outsider showed up¡ªgossip.

    ¡°So, what do you think about the new supervisor?¡± one of them asked, barely looking up from his work but sparing a glance toward the office in question.

    ¡°The midget? She looks pissed off all the time, from what I¡¯ve seen,¡± another responded while handling a set of vials for analysis.

    ¡°All fifteen seconds you saw her,¡± someone else snorted. ¡°But yeah, I get what you mean. Corporate Plaza doesn¡¯t hire incompetents, but their obsession with protocol slows everything down.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    ¡°Well, imagine if we got hired to do the exact same work at another corp,¡± he explained, gesturing toward the lab. ¡°Instead of letting us get straight to it, they¡¯d make us go through the same stupid onboarding steps we did when we first started.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ that would suck,¡± the first guy admitted. Then, after a pause, ¡°Still, there¡¯s something off about her. I don¡¯t know what, but I feel it.¡±

    ¡°Every corpo has something off about them, for Christ¡¯s sake,¡± another employee scoffed, scribbling notes on a chemical mixture.

    ¡°Speaking of, how¡¯s the test going?¡±

    ¡°Stable enough. Could be pumped, but it¡¯s not viable as fuel yet,¡± he replied, pressing a button. A prototype engine hummed to life, burning a strange liquid fuel inside.

    ¡°I remember when CHOOH2 first launched. It was kinda like this, but less¡­ watery,¡± he mused, watching the engine. ¡°This formula needs what¡ªtwenty percent fewer resources to produce?¡±

    ¡°Thirty,¡± the other corrected, flashing a datapad. ¡°We just need to make sure it combusts properly and works with enough engines to finalize the project.¡±

    In the corner, someone else was listening. He wasn''t interested in the fuel discussion¡ªonly the first half of the conversation.

    Hiring someone last minute wasn¡¯t unusual. But from what he''d gathered, it was weird for someone that important to be missing from company records.

    He left the lab, nodding to a few coworkers as they passed, turning down several corridors until he reached a door labeled Technical Area. Making sure he was alone, he stepped inside, went straight to a terminal, and jacked in.

    He bypassed the security protocols easily¡ªbut they didn¡¯t breach anything.

    ¡°Rebecca.¡±

    He muttered her name under their breath, scanning through the data. She had been hired at the last minute.

    But negotiations had been going on for a while.

    Her profile was hilarious.

    It read like something out of a badly written novel, like someone had tried way too hard to make her sound impressive. Half the projects listed didn¡¯t even exist¡ªat least, not in any sector he ever heard of. One entry claimed she had worked on a potential neural implant to combat brain cancer. A noble idea, sure, considering it was still a major problem.

    But she was hired as a Chemical Manager, not a medical miracle worker.

    Sure, both fields involved science, but that didn¡¯t mean they dealt with the same shit.

    Still, Rebecca¡¯s attitude was what really stood out. Her credentials said one thing, but her behavior said another. She was either someone who played the PR game well in public while treating everyone beneath her like dirt, or she was just a pretty face used to reel in sponsors.

    But why the hell would Petrochem need someone like that? They already controlled one of the most profitable industries in history. No clue. Then again, corporations rarely made sense¡ªsometimes on purpose.

    He pulled out a phone and dialed a number.

    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± A distorted voice responded. ¡°What do you have?¡±

    ¡°Someone new just arrived¡ªone of the few places we haven¡¯t mapped yet,¡± they said, glancing down the corridor to make sure no one was around. ¡°Unstable Chemicals sector. Could help us figure out where to hit them hardest.¡±

    ¡°Is it safe to act?¡±

    ¡°Right now? No. The target, Rebecca, just got here. I¡¯ll send you the data, but we need to wait a little.¡± They tapped at the terminal, downloading the file onto a shard.

    ¡°Excellent.¡± A pause. Then the voice hummed approvingly. ¡°Keep working. We still need another sector scouted.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ªwhat about my¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your family will be released when you¡¯ve held up your end of the deal.¡± The voice cut in, sharp and irritated. ¡°Act natural. And don¡¯t fuck this up.¡±

    The call ended abruptly, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ fuck me.¡±

    No time to waste.

    He returned to his post at the lab entrance, standing watch as the tests dragged on. Guard duty was one of those jobs people either took for granted or overhyped. It was always one of two things¡ªsomething happens, or nothing happens. Usually, it was the latter. But the second you started to relax, maybe even doze off, that¡¯s when the alarms blared, a shootout erupted, or some idiot caused an accident that shattered the peace.

    Still, the job had its perks¡ªsome of which could be exploited.

    In his case, he had access to employee profiles. Standard security procedure. He had to verify that anyone entering was actually supposed to be there. Beyond that, though? It wasn¡¯t exactly useful to him.

    For other people, though¡­

    ¡°Hey, you.¡±

    A voice snapped him back to reality.

    He glanced around, looking for whoever called him, but saw no one. He scratched his head in confusion¡ª

    ¡°You gonk¡ªI mean, you idiot.¡±

    This time, the voice was sharper, more annoyed.

    He looked down.

    Rebecca stood there, glaring up at him.

    ¡°Uh¡­ yes, ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Inform the researchers I want a report on every project. I need to evaluate progress and set priorities.¡± She didn¡¯t bother repeating herself, already turning toward her office.

    The door shut behind her.

    The guard muttered under his breath.

    ¡°Corporate bitch¡­¡±

    <hr>

    One Week Later

    Alright, she had to admit¡ªordering people around was incredibly gratifying. Barking orders and watching people scramble to do their jobs? Nova.

    Too bad it wouldn¡¯t last.

    Rebecca was only putting in enough effort to seem competent. The longer no one made a move, the more boring¡ªand stressful¡ªthings got. She wasn¡¯t exactly a great actor, and patience? Not her strong suit. Every agonizingly long day of this week was wearing her thin.

    Case in point¡ª

    ¡°Am I speaking fucking Greek?! Or Japanese?! Why the hell would you put those chemicals anywhere near the project?! Do you want to blow up the entire sector, you braindead fuck?!¡±

    One of the lab techs had just placed white phosphorus dangerously close to a cluster of unstable compounds. Rebecca might not have been an expert on chemicals, but she did know explosives.

    And white phosphorus? That was not something you handled lightly.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am, we just thought¡ª¡±

    ¡°You thought?! You thought mixing those would do what? Build a fucking thermobaric?! You have a brain¡ªuse it!¡±

    Oh, the irony.

    She took a breath. ¡°I don¡¯t even have to explain what would¡¯ve happened if I didn¡¯t catch this in time, do I?¡±

    The employee swallowed hard. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again. I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡± He gave a stiff bow.

    Corporate etiquette. Even the employees had to debase themselves with it. It made her skin crawl.

    She scowled. ¡°Yeah, no. You are cordially invited to fuck off.¡±

    With a snap of her fingers, two guards arrived.

    The guards wasted no time. One grabbed the employee by the arm while the other stepped behind him, ready to escort him out.

    ¡°Wait! Please, I¡ª¡±

    Rebecca held up a hand, silencing him with a glare. ¡°No excuses. No second chances. I¡¯m not risking a fireball because you forgot how to read labels.¡±

    The guy paled. He knew arguing wouldn¡¯t help¡ªnot in a place like this. The guards dragged him away without another word, his footsteps fading down the hall.

    She exhaled through her nose. ¡°Fucking finally.¡±

    The remaining researchers stood frozen, eyes darting between her and the door.

    Rebecca leaned against the nearest counter, arms crossed. ¡°Anyone else wanna experiment with workplace safety?¡±

    No one spoke.

    ¡°Thought so.¡±

    She pushed off the counter and strode back toward her office. If nothing else, that outburst had been cathartic. Maybe this corpo gig wasn¡¯t all bad¡ªjust mostly.

    Her agent buzzed for a while before she finally answered.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Sup, sis.¡± Pilar¡¯s voice came through. ¡°Maine thinks the gangsters are making a move, so do your best to look, uh¡­ kidnapable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not even a word, you gonk.¡±

    ¡°Eh, whatever,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Just be careful. Make sure you¡¯re not completely defenseless.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Rebecca sighed. ¡°But how safe can I be when I¡¯m in this position?¡±

    It was a shit deal. The role was crucial for the gig, but it also meant this was all she was good for¡ªbait. An insult disguised as a job. The only reason she agreed was because it might be her one shot at proving herself. That, and Pilar had talked her into it. Not that it made it any less bullshit.

    Never mind the absurdity of one sibling convincing the other to purposely put themselves in danger.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Pilar said. ¡°If they wanted to flatline you, they¡¯d have done it already.¡±

    ¡°Preem,¡± she muttered, deadpan. ¡°The sooner I¡¯m out of here, the better.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Thought you were enjoying being a corpo.¡±

    ¡°Fuck. You.¡±

    A knock on the door made her end the call. She tapped the control panel to open it¡ªnothing happened.

    At first.

    The door finally slid open, revealing a man standing there.

    ¡°Mrs. Rebecca?¡± He stepped inside. ¡°There¡¯s some business that needs your attention.¡±

    She frowned. Great. Probably something about the gig. That always seemed to happen right after a call ended, but this wasn¡¯t a damn movie.

    With a sigh, she stood up, her heels clicking against the floor. She hated those heels. ¡°Yeah? What is it?¡±

    ¡°HR wants to see you,¡± he said, bowing slightly. ¡°It¡¯s about the incident earlier.¡±

    ¡°The idiot with the white phosphorus?¡±

    She grimaced. Right. She didn¡¯t actually have the authority to fire someone. She wasn¡¯t really an employee, which meant this could complicate the gig.

    Consequences. Always ruining the fun.

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go see them.¡± She moved past him¡ª

    SPARK.

    Pain. Every cybernetic in her body fried in an instant, the surge seizing up her muscles and sending a brutal jolt straight to her organs. She barely had a second to process what was happening before her vision went black.

    ¡°Target secured,¡± the man muttered into his radio. A brief response crackled back in confirmation.

    The lights across the entire office floor cut out. The sudden darkness gave him all the cover he needed. He hoisted Rebecca over his shoulder and slipped away unnoticed.

    <hr>

    ¡°Oof, she¡¯s not gonna like that when she wakes up,¡± Pilar muttered, watching her vitals drop into unconsciousness. ¡°But hey, tracker¡¯s still working. Sasha¡¯s a fucking genius.¡±

    Falco snorted from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Doubt anyone enjoys getting Short Circuited. Nasty quick hack.¡±

    ¡°Stay focused,¡± Dorio warned. ¡°We need to be ready when we reach the location. Last thing we need is for this to go south.¡±

    ¡°Believe me,¡± Maine rumbled, checking his weapons, ¡°the last thing I want is for her to get flatlined.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s my sister¡¯s safety we¡¯re talking about,¡± Pilar muttered, a rare seriousness in his tone.

    ¡°Oh, now you care about her safety?¡± Dorio scoffed, shaking her head. ¡°Like that was ever a consideration before.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I know damn well why we don¡¯t bring her along,¡± Pilar shot back. ¡°But she keeps thinking we¡¯re derezzing her, and we didn¡¯t exactly have a long list of people willing to pull this off.¡± He sighed, rubbing his temple. ¡°I mean, Lucy could¡¯ve joined in, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°We agreed to keep her out of corpo gigs,¡± Maine cut in, his tone sharp. ¡°If you¡¯re really worried about Rebecca, quit talking and load your iron.¡±

    Pilar opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Maine rarely took that tone unless someone was in real danger. It was the same back when Sasha nearly got flatlined during the Securicine Case¡ªhe¡¯d taken charge, given orders, done whatever it took to keep her safe.

    So instead of arguing, Pilar grabbed his Carnage shotgun and started loading shells.

    ¡°What¡¯s the locator say?¡± Falco asked, keeping his eyes on the road but not the GPS itself.

    Dorio checked the tracker. ¡°They¡¯re using a different route than we expected. Trying to blend in as regular civilians.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it,¡± Maine muttered, leaning over to get a look at the map. ¡°There¡¯s an abandoned tunnel that was supposed to be repaired, but the corpo handling it went bankrupt. Another front took over, but they never actually did anything with it. Maybe a netrunner put it under someone¡¯s name without them knowing. Point is, that tunnel leads straight to Pacifica.¡±

    ¡°Pacifica?¡± Pilar¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Voodoo Boys turf? Why the hell are they heading there?¡±

    ¡°Besides the black market?¡± Maine adjusted his sunglasses. ¡°Pacifica¡¯s one of the only places where you can get out of the country by sea without drawing too much attention. Netrunners come in huge numbers from there, so if the theory about these gangsters stealing Petrochem data is right, they¡¯re gonna try to squeeze Rebecca for whatever she knows.¡±

    Falco exhaled through his nose. ¡°And since she never actually worked for Petro¡­¡± He didn¡¯t bother finishing the sentence.

    The implications were enough.

    ¡°Alright, then,¡± Pilar said, cocking the shotgun. ¡°We make damn sure they don¡¯t get anything.¡±

    <hr>

    David Martinez

    ¡°So, this is Pacifica?¡±

    I had expected the place to be a constant warzone¡ªsoon-to-be cyberpsychos running rampant, people klepping iron just to make sure they didn¡¯t get flatlined¡ªbut to my surprise, it was¡­ calm. Well, as calm as Pacifica could be. Task Force Neuron had set up on a small rooftop, waiting for the vehicle we needed to hit. When Seven called us in, I figured it was about Nina Kraviz and the whole eddies situation, but apparently, that was still on hold.

    ¡°Not what you were expecting, huh?¡± Seven smirked. ¡°Savages tend to be more polite than civilized people¡ªmostly ¡®cause they don¡¯t know if the person they¡¯re mouthing off to has a gun and the willingness to use it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, preem philosophy and all, but what exactly are we doing here?¡± Jessy crossed her arms.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you get for skipping the damn debrief.¡± Seven shot her a glare.

    Anderson took over, keeping things to the point. ¡°Long story short, the government thinks there¡¯s a group using chrome smuggling as a front for something bigger.¡±

    Jessy frowned. ¡°A front? Who the hell klepps chrome as a front?¡±

    I sighed, already piecing it together. ¡°They mainly target Petrochem supervisors, right? So the theory is, they¡¯re actually after data¡ªcorporate intel, classified projects, whatever they can sell. The chrome business keeps their threat level low. No one panics over some chrome smugglers, but corporate spies? That¡¯s a whole different beast.¡±

    ¡°This client¡¯s reached out to a lot of people, too. We weren¡¯t even their first choice,¡± Seven added, peering down at the streets below. ¡°And let¡¯s be real¡ªwhen a corp as big as Petrochem asks for help, the government doesn¡¯t say no.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Smart move.¡± Jessy nodded. ¡°That means they aren¡¯t just some low-tier gang. They pose as one, but if they¡¯re pulling this off without leaving a trace, they have to be trained.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly ¡®without a trace,¡¯ but¡­ close enough.¡± I muttered.

    Because there was a way to track them. Something stupid. Something almost too simple¡ªsomething people ignored in a world drowning in high-tech surveillance.

    But it was there. And it was enough.

    Anderson gave me a side glance, catching on to my tone. "You thinking what I''m thinking?"

    "Depends," I said, still watching the streets. "How are they moving their chrome?"

    Seven pulled up a holo-display, showing routes crisscrossing the city. "Smugglers don¡¯t usually keep a clean trail, but these guys? They¡¯ve been careful. The shipments always change routes, the drivers never use the same vehicle twice, and there¡¯s no digital footprint linking them to anything shady."

    "But they''re still using vehicles," I pointed out.

    Jessy frowned. "Yeah, so?"

    I smirked. "Night City¡¯s got automated traffic monitoring, right? Those cameras aren¡¯t just for flashing red-light runners¡ªthey log vehicle types, plates, and timestamps. Now, normally, smugglers spoof their plates, but the thing is¡­"

    Seven grinned, getting it. "¡­they can''t spoof wear and tear."

    "Bingo," I said, tapping my temple. "Street dust, minor scratches, the way the suspension sinks under different loads¡ªcameras pick up on all that. Even if the system doesn¡¯t flag them, if you track the subtle differences, you can match up a vehicle¡¯s real ID across multiple appearances."

    Anderson let out an impressed whistle. "Damn. That¡¯s some netrunner-level thinking, Martinez."

    Jessy sighed. "Great, so now we just need every traffic feed in the city. That¡¯ll be a real easy hack."

    Seven shook his head. "No need. There''s an old access point near the border to Pacifica¡ªMilitech left it behind when they bailed. If we get there before these guys vanish, I can pull what we need."

    I clenched my fists, adrenaline kicking in. "Alright then. Let¡¯s get to work."

 Chapter 57: Falling

    "Fuck, my head hurts..."

    Rebecca groaned, blinking as her vision adjusted to the dim interior. Her entire body ached, no doubt from whatever they had done to knock her out. Then it hit her¡ªthe bastard from earlier had used the white phosphorus scandal as a perfect excuse to pull off the kidnapping. She had to admit, it was a clever move, exploiting her vulnerable position as bait. That didn''t mean she was any less pissed. In fact, knowing these gonks were actually smart just made her angrier.

    Dorio had warned her.

    And now, everything was making her angrier.

    "Hey you, you¡¯re finally awake, huh?" a voice drawled. One of the men, clad in a tactical suit with a helmet and balaclava, was inspecting his weapon. "Welcome aboard, Mrs. Rebecca. Try to get comfy¡ªthis road¡¯s a piece of shit."

    "Comfy?¡ªow!" The vehicle hit a bump, making her head slam into the ceiling.

    "Told ya," the man chuckled.

    Rebecca seethed but forced herself to keep it together. She didn''t know where she was or where they were taking her. The vehicle was unfamiliar¡ªmilitary-grade, judging by the rough interior and the absolute lack of comfort. She was strapped into the back seat with safety belts and cuffs, a clear sign they weren¡¯t taking any chances. Even her agent was dead, at least on her end. Hopefully, Sasha¡¯s tracker was still running.

    "Who the fuck are you people?" she demanded, glaring at the masked man.

    "Oof, scary," he mocked, feigning shock. "That? You''ll have to figure out for yourself. What I can tell you is, we won¡¯t hurt you¡ªlong as you cooperate."

    "Fuck you."

    "Oh, life¡¯s already done plenty of that to me," he said, barely glancing up from his gun. "But I¡¯ve learned how to work around my problems. You, though? We¡¯ll see."

    "Where are you taking me?" She tried looking out the window, but it was pitch black. The emergency lights barely helped, revealing nothing but shadows.

    "You¡¯re gonna meet the boss," he replied, then turned toward the driver. "Think we should tell her what she¡¯s walking into?"

    "No, obviously," the driver shot back, as if the question was as dumb as asking if water was wet. "No unnecessary info. Just the clothes we¡¯re wearing and this car alone are already enough for corpos to sniff us out."

    "She¡¯s not going anywhere, and she can¡¯t call for help. So who gives a shit?"

    "I do. One slip-up, and we¡¯re all dead."

    "Fine, buzzkill."

    The car fell into silence after that. Rebecca wanted to start throwing insults, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. She was a hostage, and pushing her luck might end badly. Instead, she focused on observing them. Their gear was military-grade, but that didn¡¯t mean much¡ªanyone could klep uniforms, especially weak-ass doughboys looking to make an eddie.

    But these guys weren¡¯t just some scavengers playing soldier.

    There was discipline in the way they moved, even with the casual banter. Rebecca glanced out the window again. This time, she caught the faint glow of headlights¡ªanother vehicle moving in formation. At least two, maybe three. A proper convoy, meant to keep things controlled and prevent outside interference.

    These weren¡¯t gangsters.

    Maybe a merc crew? A corporate black ops team?

    Either way, it wasn¡¯t looking nova for her.

    It took a few minutes before they emerged from the pitch-black tunnel, passing through a garage and a series of strange, rundown locations¡ªincluding what looked like a stadium.

    Wait. A stadium?

    That meant¡­

    ¡°Dogtown?!¡± Rebecca¡¯s concern spiked.

    Had she somehow crossed paths with Barghest? Or the Voodoo Boys?

    ¡°Yup,¡± the masked man confirmed, glancing out at the remnants of what used to be a part of Night City. ¡°Even if you manage to call for help, this place alone guarantees us enough protection.¡±

    Rebecca clenched her jaw. ¡°What the hell are you planning to do with me?¡±

    This time, they didn¡¯t answer. Only the low rumble of the engine filled the silence.

    Eventually, they arrived at an old megabuilding¡ªlikely squatted by the homeless or small-time gangoons who didn¡¯t give a shit about Barghest or the VDBs running the place. Some people would rather take their chances with constant danger than deal with the NCPD.

    The garage was already guarded, more soldiers clad in the same tactical gear standing watch. Some used local-frequency radios to signal their arrival¡ªold analog comms, the kind that modern Netrunners couldn¡¯t track. Smart.

    Once the driver parked, Rebecca was pulled from the vehicle and led toward a staircase. With every floor they passed, the security presence grew. Some of the guards had obvious cyberware¡ªmilitary, even. Others looked baseline, but that didn¡¯t mean shit. If anything, the mix of augmented and natural fighters made this crew harder to gauge. By the time they reached their destination, Rebecca had no doubt in her mind¡ªeven Maine would have trouble scratching this defense.

    Finally, they stopped at a door leading into what looked like an apartment.

    Inside, a woman with short black hair, dressed in a lab coat, was in the middle of injecting some poor bastard with a syringe full of god-knows-what. At first, nothing happened. Then, the man started convulsing, his gurgling breaths turning into wet, choking sounds as thick black liquid spilled from his mouth. He collapsed, twitching on the floor before finally going still.

    The woman sighed, barely glancing at the corpse as she typed something into a nearby terminal.

    ¡°Hmm. Another failure.¡± Then, as if she¡¯d just noticed them, she turned. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve arrived.¡±

    Rebecca barely registered her words, still staring at the dead man on the floor.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±

    ¡°A test. And a failure.¡±

    The woman¡ªJoanne Koch¡ªsighed, crossing one leg over the other as she settled into a chair. ¡°I¡¯ll refine the serum later. But for now, let¡¯s focus on the matter at hand.¡± She gestured to herself. ¡°Allow me to introduce myself¡ªI¡¯m Joanne Koch, and you have information that I need.¡±

    Rebecca turned to her, blinking. The name took a second to register, but when it did, her stomach twisted.

    ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re from BioTechnica?¡±

    ¡°Pre-cisely.¡± Koch gave a slow, mocking clap¡ªtwo sharp beats, as if rehearsed. ¡°You know what that means, right?¡±

    Rebecca did.

    Joanne Koch¡ªhead researcher at BioTechnica, stepping into the role after the previous one mysteriously disappeared. Officially, reported as ¡°missing.¡± Unofficially? No one knew, at least not the public. And Joanne? She had a reputation¡ªa ruthless one. There were rumors that no ethical line existed in her world. Human testing, fabricated evidence, blackmail, and sabotage¡ªif it served her research, nothing was off-limits.

    And now, she was looking directly at her.

    Rebecca swallowed. ¡°You¡¯re planning to use that shit on me?¡± She nodded toward the still body on the floor.

    Koch smirked, tilting her head. ¡°That?¡± She waved dismissively. ¡°A fair assumption. But no. That would be a waste of my research materials.¡±

    She leaned forward, eyes sharp with amusement.

    ¡°What I want is information. Everything you know about Petrochem. You see, they have something vital to my work. Something only they can recreate. Something that, once upon a time, belonged to BioTechnica.¡±

    Koch smiled.

    ¡°And you, dear girl¡­ just so happen to work exactly in the sector where it¡¯s kept.¡±

    That was bad. Really bad.

    Not just because it was Joanne fucking Koch, but because Rebecca had no idea what the hell she was talking about. That was kind of the whole point of this gig¡ªpose as bait, wait for rescue. But this? This was BioTechnica. High security, tight operations, and a level of danger they hadn¡¯t predicted.

    Koch seemed unbothered by Rebecca¡¯s silence. ¡°It¡¯s fine if you don¡¯t talk right now,¡± she said, her voice smooth and unconcerned. ¡°This whole operation? It needs financing. Which means I can¡¯t put my higher-ups on the line.¡±

    She stood, the sharp clack of her heels punctuating her words as she strode toward the exit. ¡°Someone will make you talk. That is, if your missing chrome doesn¡¯t kill you first.¡±

    Rebecca¡¯s stomach twisted.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s my cue.¡±

    A new voice. A man¡ªprobably a Ripperdoc, judging by the mechanical arm whirring at his side, its surgical tools flicking open in anticipation.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got here,¡± he muttered. ¡°Put her on the recliner.¡±

    The soldiers obeyed without hesitation, shoving Rebecca toward the chair.

    ¡°H-hey! Don¡¯t do this!¡± She struggled, trying in vain to shake them off.

    ¡°Spare your breath, midget,¡± the Ripperdoc said, his tone cold yet oddly playful. ¡°No matter how much money you offer, I ain¡¯t taking it. I already got a lifesaver deal lined up.¡±

    ¡°B-but¡ª!¡±

    A rough push sent her into the chair. The soldiers yanked her arms open, strapping them down so tight she couldn¡¯t move.

    The Ripperdoc leaned over her, his chrome fingers flexing.

    ¡°Now, now¡­¡± His grin was almost lazy. ¡°Even if you do talk, I¡¯m still gonna do this. I wanna see what you¡¯re hiding.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Shit, the signal¡¯s gone.¡± Dorio scowled as the tracker displayed Rebecca¡¯s last known location. ¡°Why Dogtown, of all places?¡±

    Falco¡¯s grip tightened on the wheel as he stared at the broken tunnels of Pacifica. The place was eerily quiet¡ªtoo quiet. Burned-out cars littered the road, some still smoldering, but there was no shootout, no gangers lurking. Just silence.

    ¡°How locked down is that place?¡± he asked.

    Dorio shook her head. ¡°No clue. We know where she is, but beyond that? Nada.¡±

    Pilar fidgeted, his nerves getting the better of him. ¡°Look, we still got her vitals, yeah? That means she¡¯s okay¡ªfor now, right?¡±

    Dorio sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know, choom. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Maine grabbed his AJAX rifle, loading custom rounds into the magazine with practiced ease. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Pilar. Your sis is coming home.¡±

    Falco pulled the van to a stop. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±

    Calling it a Megabuilding would¡¯ve been generous. Once a grand project of the mid-2060s, the structure had long since fallen into disrepair, a casualty of the wars that tore Pacifica apart. Now it was just another part of Dogtown¡¯s wasteland, a crumbling monument to corporate greed.

    Maine¡¯s voice was firm. ¡°Falco, find a place to lay low. Trust no one but us¡ªshoot first, ask questions never.¡±

    Falco gave a silent nod as the crew stepped out of the vehicle.

    ¡°Dorio, you¡¯re with me.¡± Maine turned to Pilar. ¡°Make sure you use the right explosives this time. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s inside that building.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I got it.¡± Pilar grumbled. ¡°Any ways in?¡±

    Dorio checked the tracer. ¡°Rebecca went through a garage near that corner.¡± She gestured toward the road. ¡°We also got sewer access, and, most obvious, the main hall.¡±

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Pilar squinted up at the decaying structure. ¡°What floor?¡±

    ¡°Tenth underfloor.¡± Dorio¡¯s gaze followed his. ¡°I can already see some gonks patrolling stores above.¡±

    Maine¡¯s optics flickered as he scanned the guards. ¡°Military-grade chrome. This ain¡¯t some street gang¡ªwe¡¯re dealing with a unit.¡±

    Dorio folded her arms. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Maine turned to Pilar. ¡°You still got those electric discharges?¡±

    Pilar blinked. ¡°Yeah, but why would we need ¡®em?¡± He pulled a bag off his back, revealing a stack of electric grenades.

    Maine smirked. ¡°These buildings never got internal power upgrades. They still run off the old street grid. If we hit the main connections with those¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªWe black ¡®em out.¡± Dorio finished, nodding. ¡°Buys us time to move.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Maine loaded his rifle. ¡°But if they¡¯re military, they¡¯ve got chrome that won¡¯t shut down easy. We don''t chrome scop, so expect heavy artillery from them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll set a timer on ¡®em.¡± Pilar slung the bag over his shoulder. ¡°Once they blow, we strike.¡±

    ¡°Good. Get it done.¡±

    Pilar jogged off, hunting for the power lines.

    Dorio shifted her weight. ¡°And us?¡±

    Maine cracked his knuckles. ¡°We hit the main hall.¡±

    Dorio frowned. ¡°It¡¯s the best breach point, but it¡¯s not the safest way out if they have a trap waiting.¡±

    Maine snorted. ¡°I know. And I¡¯m willing to bet they do.¡±

    She narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re really gonna do it, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Maine¡¯s grin was all the answer she needed. ¡°Damn right I am.¡±

    Dorio exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders. "You always pull this shit, Maine."

    Maine just grinned, slamming a fresh mag into his rifle. "And it always works, don¡¯t it?"

    She didn¡¯t argue. It wasn¡¯t worth it.

    Meanwhile, Pilar was already moving, weaving through the rubble, muttering under his breath.

    ¡°Gotta find the street access¡­ gotta find the damn panel¡­¡±

    Dogtown¡¯s grid was a mess, a mix of old-world infrastructure and makeshift repairs. But he knew what to look for.

    He crouched near a corroded junction box, wires spilling out like synthetic vines. With a flick of his wrist, he primed a handful of discharge grenades. The trick wasn¡¯t just cutting the power¡ªit was when.

    Right before we go in.

    He planted the charges, setting a silent countdown. One minute. That should be enough.

    Back at the main entrance, Maine and Dorio took cover behind a collapsed support beam. The guards were watching the front, but they weren¡¯t expecting a frontal assault. That was the gamble.

    Maine tapped his comms. ¡°Pilar, status?¡±

    "Done. Sixty seconds."

    "Good. Get back here."

    Dorio studied the entrance. Two guards, heavily chromed. More inside. Maybe. Hard to tell from here.

    She sighed. "Coulda just used the garage, you know."

    "Yeah," Maine sighed, ¡°We could, but something tells me it is the most heavily guarded place.¡±

    The next few seconds stretched thin.

    Then¡ª

    Boom.

    The discharges detonated in perfect sync, cascading through the building¡¯s power grid. Lights flickered, then cut out entirely. The main entrance plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from neon billboards still running on separate circuits.

    Then came the shouting. Confusion. The guards scrambling.

    "Move!"

    Maine surged forward, rifle barking. First shot hit center mass, second blew out a knee. The second guard turned, but Dorio was already on him, crushing his skull against the concrete wall.

    Inside, gunfire erupted.

    Pilar stormed in first, his Carnage shotgun roaring with each shot, tearing through anything that moved. Maine followed close behind, his AJAX spitting controlled bursts until his mag clicked empty. Dorio fired off a few rounds from her Burya, but she wasn¡¯t here just to kill¡ªher eyes were on their real objective: finding a way down to Rebecca.

    A few soldiers managed to fire back, their rounds hitting both Maine and Pilar, but neither of them slowed down.

    ¡°Shit! I can¡¯t see them!¡± one of the soldiers shouted, voice tight with panic.

    ¡°Connect to my server! Use the heat filter!¡± another barked.

    Fuck, they had a private server linking their optics. That would¡¯ve been a handy trick¡ªif it wasn¡¯t such a fucking headache for Maine¡¯s crew.

    Maine slammed a fresh mag into his rifle just as a round whizzed past his head, forcing him to hunker down. Pilar wasn¡¯t doing much better, but at least his weird-ass goggles had one edge: prototype night vision, a relic he¡¯d klepped off a Netrunner back when he was new to the crew.

    He gritted his teeth, hoisted the Carnage, and charged straight at the soldiers, ignoring their frantic shouts. The first blast painted the wall red. The second would¡¯ve dropped another, but not before the bastard got a shot off¡ª

    Crack

    ¡°Argh, fuck!¡± Pilar stumbled back, gripping his gut as blood seeped through his jacket. His other hand was already moving, slamming a Bounce Back injector into his side. "Shit¡­ I dunno what stings worse, the bullet or the fucking needle."

    Maine was already moving, laying down suppressive fire to cover him. ¡°Can you move?¡±

    ¡°Like a damn cheetah. Fuck yeah,¡± Pilar grunted, loading another pair of shells into his shotgun.

    ¡°I found a staircase!¡± Dorio¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. ¡°But we better move! I think we pissed ¡®em off!¡±

    ¡°You think?!¡± Pilar groaned as he pushed himself up, the painkillers already kicking in. ¡°I thought this was just the welcoming party for their employees!¡±

    BOOM

    A burst of gunfire echoed through the facility¡ªbut not from their floor. It was coming from below.

    Maine, Dorio, and Pilar froze. That wasn¡¯t a good sign. Rebecca was supposed to be down there, but if shots were flying already¡­ Either someone else had made it here first, or there was some serious infighting going on.

    Without hesitation, they bolted for the stairs, but not before Maine jabbed the call button on the elevator. If someone was watching, they''d waste time focusing on the elevator while the crew moved freely.

    The descent was quick¡ªuntil it wasn¡¯t. Halfway down, the stairs abruptly ended, forcing them to take an emergency exit.

    Maine peeked in first, scanning the area. No immediate threats. He gestured for the others to follow.

    The underfloors weren¡¯t like the rest of Pacifica. No crumbling walls, no signs of scavenger activity¡ªthis was high-end corpo territory. Sleek corridors, reinforced security systems, and enough cash sunk into the place to scream top secret. Even with the power out, some cameras were still operational, their little red lights blinking. Humanoid drones patrolled the halls, alongside a few tense-looking soldiers, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.

    ¡°What are all these gonks doing?¡± Pilar muttered, asking the question on everyone¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Maine, you know all that military crap. What the hell¡¯s going on?¡± Dorio nudged his shoulder.

    Maine narrowed his eyes, watching the soldiers. ¡°They¡¯re on alert¡ªbut not for us.¡±

    The way they moved was methodical: always in pairs, one covering forward while the other watched their six. And their weapons weren¡¯t aimed around like they were searching. They were ready to fire. But where they were aiming¡ª

    ¡°Rebecca escaped?!¡± Pilar hissed in a whisper.

    ¡°Maybe. Or maybe someone else is here,¡± Maine scoffed. ¡°Either way, we need to move. I¡¯ll clear the path. You two find another way down.¡±

    Before either of them could argue, Maine activated his Sandevistan.

    The world slowed.

    His every step felt smooth, deliberate. He raised his AJAX, lined up his shots¡ª

    BANG BANG

    Then he was gone.

    From Dorio and Pilar¡¯s perspective, Maine simply vanished. A moment later, they crept toward the ajar door where the gunshots had echoed. Inside, two guards lay lifeless.

    Dorio signaled Pilar to follow.

    The deeper they went, the weirder things got. The facility had cells¡ªholding pens, really¡ªbut they weren¡¯t for people.

    They were for animals.

    Rows of cages lined the walls, filled with creatures that ranged from recognizable to what the actual fuck is that? Some were labeled failures, others partial successes. None of it made sense.

    Pilar tapped one of the cages, eyeing a bizarre, half-formed thing inside. ¡°Alright, what the fuck is this? Since when do corpos hoard zoo rejects?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of lab rats, but this is ridiculous,¡± Dorio muttered, shaking her head. ¡°Forget it. We can dig into this after we get Rebecca.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Pilar grumbled, rolling his eyes. He glanced at the cages one last time before turning away. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ Eh, never mind.¡±

    <hr>

    Petr¨²cio Gonzalez

    Today was a terrible day to be a BioTechnica soldier.

    The facility wasn¡¯t just breached¡ªit was being ripped apart by two separate units. And the worst part? They weren¡¯t even working together. It was like watching two rabid dogs go after the same bone, tearing through the place with no regard for who got caught in the crossfire.

    Gonzales had trained with the best of the best. He had clawed his way to the top of his class, aced every security drill, and earned a spot guarding Joanne Koch¡ªthe head researcher behind all the weird shit BioTechnica cooked up. It was a prestigious gig, one that should¡¯ve cemented his career.

    But then they captured the midget, and everything went straight to hell.

    One second, he was finishing a bathroom break. The next? The unit he was with was wiped out, combat drones were deploying, and the lights went dark. He barely had time to regroup before the attackers picked them off one by one¡ªlike they knew exactly where they¡¯d be.

    Three people. Three fucking people.

    Eleven dead, trained soldiers gone, and the culprits? Some street rats. One of them was practically a kid. How humiliating was that?!

    He¡¯d seen them move, seen how they worked. They weren¡¯t just gunning people down¡ªthey were surgical. Their assault rifles found the only unarmored spot on the helmets: the mouth. Perfect shots, every time. Then some brat hacked half the squad¡¯s chrome, locking them in place with electric jolts while the others cleaned house.

    Gonzales ran. He wasn¡¯t stupid. But it didn¡¯t matter¡ªmore were dying behind him. Even the combat drones weren¡¯t holding up. The attackers just aimed for the joints, immobilizing them in seconds. Then that damn kid strolled in, lugging a Tactician, and blew their heads off like it was target practice.

    It wasn¡¯t just an ambush. It was a fucking execution.

    And now, as he pressed his back against the cold metal wall, heart hammering in his chest, the teenager found him.

    A slow, deliberate step. Then another.

    Gonzales barely had time to register the oversized Overture revolver being leveled at his head.

    <hr>

    David Martinez

    BANG.

    "Clear!" I call out, lowering my weapon as the last gonk drops. "Gotta say, I expected a trained private military to put up more of a fight."

    Seven¡¯s voice crackles over the comms. "Well, we did trap and ambush them before they could react. Even trained soldiers can¡¯t counter an attack they never see coming."

    "The less resistance, the better," Anderson adds, swapping out a spent mag in his Saratoga.

    Jessy chuckles. "And this is way better than pretending to be someone¡¯s sibling¡ªoh, hold up, check out this gear! How much do you think we could get for it?"

    "Considering it¡¯s BioTechnica¡¯s?" Seven says dryly. "Not much."

    "Aw, dang it."

    Anderson nudges a corpse with his boot. "Alright, so what exactly are we looking for? We already know this isn¡¯t just some gang op¡ªit¡¯s a corp. So what¡¯s the play?"

    "Evidence and a scapegoat," Seven replies without hesitation. "Take pictures, grab shards, documents¡ªanything that classifies this as illegal. And if we find someone with a recognizable face? Even better."

    "Incriminating BioTechnica like that¡­ ain¡¯t that risky?" I ask, scratching my cheek.

    Seven huffs. "David, you studied the Corporate Wars at the academy, yeah?"

    "Only the first two. We¡¯re covering the advanced stuff next year."

    "Well, to summarize, the Fourth Corporate War ended because of the government. Sure, corps have weapons, manpower, and political pull, but the second they piss off Uncle Sam¡ª" Seven hummed. "It¡¯s game over."

    "Huh." I mutter, surprised.

    "Alright, I''m downloading their agents'' data," Jessy mutters, still poking around the squad we just flatlined. "Looks like they were recently reassigned to guard this place. Oh¡­ that¡¯s interesting."

    "What?" Seven asks.

    "Joanne Koch. That name ring any bells?"

    "No," I say.

    "Not a clue," Anderson adds with a shrug.

    Seven groans. "She¡¯s BioTechnica¡¯s current head researcher. If she¡¯s involved, this whole operation is probably hers. Anything else?"

    "Nothing these scops knew," Jessy replies, disconnecting from her port. "But I pulled some schematics. Not much, just a rough layout. We¡¯re on the fifth underground level. Below us is where they keep the good stuff."

    "So down we go," Anderson says, taking point. I fall in behind him.

    "There¡¯s a separate elevator north of here," Jessy explains, taking up the rear. "Heavily guarded now, thanks to our little ambush."

    "How many?" I ask, sweeping my gaze across the adjacent corridors. This place feels like a damn maze.

    "Few drones, two meat shields. Nothing we can¡¯t handle," she says, completely unconcerned.

    So, naturally, I don¡¯t feel concerned either.

    We move carefully, keeping to the shadows where we can. The lights flicker overhead, and the whole facility hums with a low, steady vibration¡ªprobably the security system working overtime.

    Jessy gestures ahead. ¡°Drones on the right. They¡¯re patrolling in loops, basic stuff. The guards are posted by the elevator.¡±

    Seven hummed. ¡°You take out the drones first, quiet-like. Then you deal with the meat shields.¡±

    Anderson smirks. ¡°Oh yeah, ¡®quiet-like.¡¯ That¡¯s our specialty.¡±

    Jessy rolls her eyes. ¡°Just don¡¯t make it a firefight.¡±

    We creep forward, keeping low. The first drone passes by, its optics scanning side to side. Jessy moves first¡ªquick and efficient, she sends a pulse through her deck. The drone spasms, its servos locking up before it collapses with a quiet clunk.

    The second drone is trickier. It hovers a little higher, out of reach. Anderson takes care of it, aiming his silenced Saratoga and landing two precise shots into its joints. It drops like a rock.

    "Preem," I whisper.

    Now for the guards.

    Anderson raises a hand. "We take them together. On my mark¡ª"

    But before he can finish, one of the guards glances our way. His eyes widen.

    Shit.

    No more sneaking.

    Anderson fires first, his Saratoga spitting out a short burst. I follow up, my Overture barking as I put two in the guy¡¯s chest. He stumbles, barely hanging on. The second guard ducks behind cover, shouting into his radio.

    ¡°Move!¡± Seven orders.

    Jessy¡¯s already on it, jamming their comms before backup can mobilize. The guard behind cover peeks out¡ªbig mistake. A single shot from my Overture takes half his head off.

    The room goes quiet.

    Jessy exhales. ¡°So much for quiet.¡±

    "Honestly? Better than anything," I mutter. "Now, let''s make sure we know what¡¯s waiting for us before we head down."

    "Alright, Ping it is."

    Jessy''s eyes flicker blue as she breaches their server. After a few moments, she nods and shares the results. The guards below are already engaged in a firefight¡ªbut not with us. They¡¯re holding their ground, unloading rounds at someone we can¡¯t see, but whoever it is, they¡¯re dismantling the squad one by one.

    "Who the hell is that?" I ask, watching the feed.

    "Someone not connected to their system," Anderson notes, staring at the blank space where the unknown combatant should be. "That¡¯s good. We can slip in and gather evidence while they¡¯re distracted."

    "Don¡¯t get cocky," Seven warns. "Whoever they are, they might not be on our side."

    Jessy steps into the elevator. "Doesn¡¯t matter. We can get down there just fine."

    The panel lists floors from five to ten. I press the tenth, obviously. As the elevator descends, we keep watching the firefight play out. A soldier manages to pin the mystery attacker down, but within seconds, they break free and retaliate. Then, without warning, an explosion erupts, shaking the facility enough that we feel it in the shaft. The tides are turning, but not in the guards'' favor.

    "Shit," Anderson mutters, gripping his Saratoga tight. "Whoever they are, they''re dangerous."

    "Yeah," I nod, drawing both my Overture and Lexington.

    Six soldiers stood at the elevator entrance.

    I took a deep breath. In. Out.

    The doors slid open, and I fired immediately. Two shots, two bodies down. Anderson followed up, dropping three more in quick succession. The last guy barely had time to react before Jessy hacked his cyberware, sending a surge of heat through his chrome. He screamed as he burned from the inside out¡ªnot the prettiest sight, but it got the job done.

    We moved to cover, advancing toward the unknown gunner. I could close the distance fast, but I wasn¡¯t exactly swimming in ammo. Anderson wasn¡¯t either. Jessy needed visual confirmation to hack, so we held position, waiting for an opening.

    BANG

    The shooter aimed for Anderson.

    I didn¡¯t think¡ªI moved. Dashing forward, I pushed my Klyntar agility to the limit, raising my Overture and lining up a clean shot. Whoever they were, they wouldn¡¯t be getting back up.

    But just as my finger tightened on the trigger¡ª

    I stopped.

    "You¡­?"

    <hr>

    Rebecca froze at the faint, uncertain "You¡­?" behind her.

    Instinct kicked in¡ªshe hadn¡¯t fought her way here just to get flatlined by some random gonk. But they hadn¡¯t shot her on sight. Something was off. She turned, Unity raised, finger on the trigger, ready to fire her last bullet.

    Then she saw him.

    David.

    Tactical gear, locked and loaded¡ªbut it was him.

    Her grip faltered. The gun slipped from her hands.

    ¡°...D-David?¡± Her voice was weak, barely more than a breath.

    David¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Guys, this one¡¯s a choom!¡± he called back to his crew before turning back to her. ¡°How the hell are you even¡ª?¡±

    His words trailed off as he took in the corridor behind her¡ªbodies piled up, shredded, broken. Every single one of those snakes that tried to rip her apart lay dead.

    Was that shock on his face? Maybe even a little bit of¡­impressed? Hard to tell in the dim light. But it didn¡¯t matter.

    Rebecca let out a shaky breath. At least one familiar face was here.

    For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself relax.

    And as exhaustion finally caught up to her, she let go, drifting into unconsciousness.

 Chapter 58: Blood and Steel

    David Martinez

    I hesitated, just for a second. She was unconscious now, but from the look of her, she had crawled straight out of hell. The hallway alone could win horror awards, but her? Missing an arm, an eye, leg broken¡ªand even then, she had kept going, cutting through the soldiers one by one until she ran into us.

    Would¡¯ve been preem if it wasn¡¯t so damn tragic.

    ¡°Who is she?¡± Anderson asked, peeking out from cover.

    ¡°Part of a crew I did a gig with once,¡± I muttered, crouching beside her.

    Her forearm¡ªgone. The wound was fresh, cauterized but still recent. No way she¡¯d just let it heal naturally before slotting in a replacement. I grabbed a Bounce Back from my gear and injected it into her shoulder to at least dull the pain. The leg, though? That was a bigger problem. I didn¡¯t have the tools to fix it, and I doubted the others would be thrilled if I wasted Task Force Neuron¡¯s time.

    ¡°She got a name?¡±

    I frowned. Then grimaced.

    Because¡­ shit.

    Did I ever actually get her name? I met her once, but¡ª

    ¡°You have no idea, do you?¡± Anderson deadpanned.

    ¡°Uh¡­ does it matter right now?¡± I said, propping her up against the wall. ¡°We¡¯re kinda on a mission here, remember?¡±

    Seven coughed over the comms. "I suggest you all hurry up. Another team¡¯s moving in.¡±

    And right on cue, the power cut out.

    Anderson yanked me up. ¡°Look, if she¡¯s someone you know, fine. But we can¡¯t sit around. This Joanne Koch woman isn¡¯t playing games¡ªshe¡¯ll send more units. I¡¯ll hold this position and make sure nothing interrupts you, but you need to grab any intel you can. Got that?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I stammered.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s go!¡± Jessy grabbed my arm, already pointing toward a nearby room. ¡°We can dig up the deets here!¡±

    I barely registered where we were heading¡ªjust saw the metallic door slide open up instead of sideways. Inside, a whole lot of shady shit was going down. The kind that reminded me too much of those flashes of Vomi in the desert.

    Tubes. Vials.

    And something inside them that looked real damn close to what a Klyntar should be.

    ¡°Oooohhh, shit¡ªwhat¡¯s that?¡± Jessy asked, pointing at the experiments.

    I scanned the setup, racking my brain for anything Vik had taught me that could help decipher what I was looking at. But honestly? This was way beyond me.

    Sticky notes clung to the glass, scribbled with a mix of technical jargon and downright ominous observations.

    ¡°The experiment has been steady so far. It shows signs of self-sentience.¡±

    Then the real bad news:

    ¡°The nublocleitos cells are hyperactive¡ªdegenerating the intestines and feeding off them.¡±

    Yeah. Definitely not good.

    ¡°I have no clue,¡± I muttered, staring at the glass.

    One of the vials held something that looked like plasma, swirling sluggishly inside. Then, as if it saw me¡ªif it even had eyes¡ªit suddenly started¡­

    Cowering?

    CLICK

    "Alright, pictures taken," Jessy said, already using her chromed hand to jack into the lab¡¯s terminal. Her fingers twitched as she worked. "Damn, their ICE is really well-structured. This¡¯ll take a while."

    Leaving the glass alone, I started rummaging through the lab. Drawers, cabinets, headboards¡ªanything that might have documentation. To my surprise, it wasn¡¯t just Vomi who had a habit of using paper to keep track of shady experiments.

    "I found some stuff," I said, flipping through the files, barely glancing at the titles. "Blackwall Expedition Alpha," "Blackwall Discoveries," "DataBank.7872¡­" I sighed. "Looks like a bunch of recaps. Nothing big."

    "Then the real gold is locked behind their ICE," Jessy said without looking up. "I¡¯ll try to pinpoint it, but take those papers anyway. They¡¯re a good starting point."

    "Maybe," Seven cut in over comms, "but that¡¯s not enough to threaten them. A judge could just say we fabricated those documents to pin the blame on BioTechnica."

    "But I found them here," I frowned, gripping the files tighter.

    "Yeah. In a secret facility in Dogtown." Seven exhaled through the line. "If this was in Night City proper, we¡¯d have leverage. But out here? This barely registers as an inconvenience for the big leagues."

    I looked at the papers again, then sighed.

    "Yeah, you¡¯re right."

    Gunshots echoed faintly from above¡ªprobably the unknown team making their way down.

    "Should we be concerned about that?" I asked, already stepping outside.

    Anderson was still checking on the girl. She was breathing lightly, steady but unconscious. That seemed like a good sign, but I wasn¡¯t about to assume.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t take the elevator. Probably going the long way around,¡± Anderson muttered, keeping watch over the maze of corridors.

    "Here, take a look." I handed him the files. "Anything with ''Blackwall'' in the name doesn''t sound good. I get that there''s valuable data beyond it, but even experienced Netrunners get fried messing with that thing."

    Anderson flipped through the documents. "What¡¯s in the DataBank.7872 file?"

    I opened it and skimmed. "The expedition at Blackwall Sector-K was a success. Casualties were minimal, and we recovered Dr. Mercer¡¯s projects¡­ blah, blah, blah¡­ dated back to 2064."

    "So they¡¯ve been after this for over a decade," Seven hummed, thinking aloud. "But isn¡¯t Sector-K one of the worst? Why go in without a proper task force?"

    "I think they did¡ªthey said casualties were minimal. Could mean ¡®only the disposable ones died,¡¯ or something like that." I tapped the file, piecing it together. "Then there¡¯s Expedition Alpha. Maybe BioTechnica put together a team just to breach the Blackwall."

    Anderson turned to me briefly before refocusing on his watch. "That¡¯s odd. BioTechnica¡¯s a biotech corp. Why the hell would they have the kind of gear needed to crack the Blackwall?"

    "Jessy will figure it out once she¡¯s done," Seven said. A second later, his voice perked up. "Oh, I¡¯ve got access to the camera feed."

    "Don''t mention it," Jessy quipped, oozing pride.

    "Good. Can you tell who the other squad is?" I asked.

    It took a moment, but Seven finally answered, ¡°They just wiped out the main hall¡¯s squad. One¡¯s built like a beast, another¡¯s a muscular woman, and the last one looks like a walking noodle. Not a proper squad¡ªjust mercs.¡±

    Something about that description felt way too familiar. Where had I seen a group like that before?

    ¡°We can handle them if it comes to it,¡± Anderson nodded to himself.

    ¡°Can you share the footage?¡± I asked. ¡°I think I might know them.¡±

    ¡°You sure know a lot of people who shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± Seven muttered but sent it over anyway.

    And the moment I saw the feed¡ªyep, that was Maine¡¯s crew.

    ¡°Yeah, I know them too.¡± My gaze flicked toward the unconscious girl¡ªI still couldn¡¯t remember her name. ¡°They¡¯re after her.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re after the corpo? Why?¡± Jessy asked over comms. ¡°I doubt they even knew about this place. It¡¯s Dogtown, after all.¡±

    ¡°The thing is, she¡¯s not a corpo,¡± I corrected. ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of gig they¡¯re running, but Maine wouldn¡¯t just leave her behind.¡±

    Wait¡ª

    ¡°Maine?¡± Seven repeated, confused. ¡°His name¡¯s a state? Why does that alias sound¡ª¡±

    Oh, shit. I shouldn¡¯t have said that.

    ¡°Heads up, movement,¡± Anderson warned, making me drop the topic and take cover.

    Footsteps¡ªfast, rushed. Faint breathing. One person. They ran past without even glancing our way, a lone soldier gripping his shoulder, stumbling, then collapsing. I kept my Overture and Lexington trained on him, waiting.

    No movement.

    I moved in to check. Warm body, no pulse. Dead.

    ¡°Clear,¡± I called, turning back to the girl.

    Gunfire echoed above us¡ªgetting closer.

    ¡°Jessy, how¡¯s it going back there?¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Downloading now!¡± she snapped back. ¡°But this process takes time!¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± I turned back to the hall, gripping my weapons tighter.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen some of the shit they did here,¡± Anderson said, his voice calm but with a distinct unease. ¡°Human test subjects, torture, something about RNA Rewriting¡­¡±

    ¡°Ribonucleic Acid,¡± I said.

    Anderson sighed. ¡°Yeah, that means nothing to me, choom.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a nucleic acid present in all living cells. It carries instructions from DNA for protein synthesis. Some viruses even use RNA instead of DNA,¡± I explained. ¡°But rewriting RNA? That¡¯s new. Genetic manipulation usually targets DNA.¡±

    Seven hummed in thought. ¡°So BioTechnica isn¡¯t just messing with genetics. We already have flash clones for people who don¡¯t want cybernetic limb replacements. Near-perfect copies of what they lost. But evolving human capabilities? That¡¯s dangerous.¡±

    Keep it cool, David. Just play dumb.

    ¡°Y-yeah, real dangerous. Imagine if I had, uh¡­ monster-like abilities or something.¡±

    Damn it, not that dumb!

    ¡°Honestly? If that was true I would be glad that I am on your side.¡± Anderson shrugged, ¡°How close is that merc squad?¡±

    Phew! Thanks, Anderson! Huge save!

    Seven checked the footage again, ¡°They''re clearing the eighth underfloor right now.¡±

    <hr>

    Pilar snatched the rifle from the gonk he just dropped, took aim at his choom, and fired without hesitation¡ªthen crumpled to the floor, overwhelmed by the pain. Unlike Maine, who had the muscle and sheer willpower to push through, Pilar wasn¡¯t built to tank that many hits. At this point, even a Bounce Back Jr. wouldn¡¯t do much good¡ªif anything, it¡¯d make things worse, overloading his system and amplifying the pain instead of dulling it.

    Maine took a few last shots at the remaining soldiers, but his aim was off. At least they weren¡¯t firing back anymore. Dorio rushed to Pilar¡¯s side, her own body riddled with bullet holes, though her subdermal armor had absorbed most of the damage.

    She knelt beside him, checking his injuries with quick, practiced movements. "Shit, Pilar, stay with me," Dorio muttered, pressing a hand against the worst of the wounds. His breathing was uneven, shallow. The blood loss was bad.

    Pilar coughed, trying to laugh but barely managing a smirk. "Dorio¡­ you should see the other guy."

    "Yeah, yeah, real funny," she growled, but the worry was clear in her voice. "Maine, we gotta move, now!"

    Maine was already on it, reloading as he covered their position. The hall behind them was littered with corpses, but there were still distant shouts, more boots thudding against the floor. Reinforcements were coming.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have much of a choice. Either we go further down or face everything that¡¯s coming for us,¡± he said, trying to plan their next move.

    They were pinned. On one side, reinforcements¡ªlikely prepared to counter them this time. Corporate militias weren¡¯t dumb enough to fall for the same tricks twice. Maybe some of them had Kerenzikov or Sandevistans, or worse, a way to hack their chrome mid-fight. On the other side, more soldiers. Even if the blackout cut their line of sight, the facility¡¯s cameras still fed them their location.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    If they ran, the beast would chase. If they stayed, they¡¯d be eaten alive.

    Pilar was too injured to move on his own. Dorio could carry him, but that would leave Maine to handle even more enemies solo. Their only real options were to ambush the incoming squads and make a break for it, or keep heading downward into the unknown.

    Maine made the call. ¡°Carry him. Go after Rebecca. I¡¯ll hold them off.¡±

    Splitting up was the only move that made sense now. Alone, he had a better shot at outmaneuvering BioTechnica¡¯s forces than if he had to protect the others too.

    ¡°Are you psycho?! You can¡¯t handle them all by yourself!¡± Pilar protested, wincing through the pain. Even for Maine, this was a suicide mission.

    ¡°I never said I¡¯d fight them head-on.¡± Maine smirked before activating his Sandevistan and vanishing in a blur of speed.

    ¡°Fuck, he¡¯s smart, but sometimes he pisses me off,¡± Dorio muttered, already hauling Pilar over her shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s hope he knows what he¡¯s doing. Now let¡¯s find that explosive midget.¡±

    ¡°Ow,¡± Pilar groaned as his ribs pressed against her shoulder. ¡°I know she¡¯s alive, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Save your breath,¡± Dorio cut him off, finding the last fire exit and charging down the stairs. ¡°Focus on staying awake. We can¡¯t lose you, you brain-rotted potato.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡ªOw.¡± Pilar wheezed, the laughter costing him.

    The corridors mirrored those upstairs¡ªdark and claustrophobic. The dim emergency lighting barely made a difference. Dorio could only use one hand to shoot, and while her Burya packed a punch, even with her chrome, its recoil was brutal. If she got shot first, counterattacking would be tough.

    As she moved, an eerie silence settled in. Too quiet. Either this was an attempt to lure her into a false sense of security, or the previous shootouts they¡¯d heard had already decided the fate of everyone down here.

    Then, rounding a corner, she spotted a body. A single high-caliber shot to the head. The soldier had been caught off guard while hiding, slumped in the corner. Looked like he¡¯d tried to escape from something. Following his path, she found more bodies scattered ahead.

    An ambush.

    Every corpse had been taken out at the same time¡ªshot, sliced, or burned with surgical precision. One had his chrome fried, the burn marks on his implants making that much clear. Dorio carefully set Pilar down, making sure not to aggravate his wounds.

    ¡°I¡¯m going alone from here. Play dead. If anyone comes, make it convincing.¡± She glanced at the bodies, then back at him.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Got it.¡± Pilar groaned, shifting into a more lifeless sprawl.

    Dorio nodded and pushed forward.

    This section of the facility looked more advanced than the rest. Some of the doors had labels detailing research purposes. One led to a storage room filled with samples¡ªsome kind of goo-like substance. It wasn¡¯t just stored; it moved. Reacted.

    She turned a corner¡ª

    ¡ªand found herself staring down the barrel of a Saratoga.

    ¡°Howdy,¡± the man holding it greeted, almost casually. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±

    Dorio shifted subtly, barely perceptible. ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°A bit,¡± the man said, spitting on the floor. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    Why wasn¡¯t he shooting her? She had no protection on her face¡ªone shot, and she¡¯d be done. Yet, instead of pulling the trigger, he was asking questions. Tactical gear or not, that wasn¡¯t normal.

    She chose her words carefully. ¡°I¡¯m here to rescue someone.¡±

    ¡°You and your crew, right?¡± He took a few steps back. ¡°Saw you leave the other guy near the dead soldiers.¡±

    Dorio¡¯s eyes flickered with alarm for just a second. ¡°If you did something¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, relax. I saw, I didn¡¯t do anything.¡± He waved it off and lowered his gun. ¡°Still, who exactly are you here to rescue? The corpo dwarf?¡±

    ¡°She has a name.¡± Dorio stepped out of the room, keeping a wary eye on him. ¡°Is she alive?¡±

    ¡°Barely, but yeah.¡± He exhaled, glancing back. ¡°You should grab your choom. Corpos have a bad habit of double-tapping bodies. Sometimes triple.¡±

    Dorio didn¡¯t need to be told twice. She turned on her heel, rushing back to Pilar and hauling him up.

    ¡°H-Hey! What the hell¡ª?¡± Pilar yelped as she lifted him again.

    ¡°Rebecca¡¯s alive,¡± she said, this time not bothering to be gentle. ¡°We¡¯re moving. Now.¡±

    As they neared the corridor where Dorio had last seen the man, her eyes locked onto Rebecca¡ªbeing treated, albeit roughly, by another guy in tactical gear.

    And God, she was in bad shape.

    One leg broken. One eye gone. Her right forearm missing. Whatever had happened to her¡ªit hadn¡¯t been quick, and it sure as hell hadn¡¯t been painless.

    Dorio set Pilar down next to Rebecca, then turned to the one tending to her wounds.

    That¡¯s when she saw his face. Recognized the haircut.

    ¡°David?!¡±

    David glanced up but didn¡¯t stop working. ¡°Dorio.¡±

    ¡°The kid from the last gig?¡± Pilar blinked in disbelief. ¡°Choom, this is one hell of a coincidence.¡±

    ¡°So this is your other crew.¡± The man from before rested his Saratoga on his shoulder, nodding. ¡°Well met.¡±

    Dorio shook her head, pushing past the surprise. ¡°What are you¡ª? No, doesn¡¯t matter.¡± She dropped to a knee beside Rebecca. ¡°What happened to her?¡±

    ¡°Torture, most likely.¡± David¡¯s voice was calm, professional. ¡°This is a Ripperdoc¡¯s style¡ªremoving or chipping chrome in rapid succession. I¡¯m doing what I can, but I don¡¯t have the tools to make sure she survives this.¡±

    ¡°Those bastards¡­¡± Pilar clenched his jaw, staring at his sister¡¯s mangled form. This was my idea¡­ He didn¡¯t realize it yet, but guilt was already creeping in, mistaken for pure, seething hatred. ¡°Sasha was right about BioTechnica. They need to be wiped off the fucking map.¡±

    David applied a gel to Rebecca¡¯s forearm, keeping the wound clean enough to buy her some time. Then, he secured a splint around her leg to prevent further damage.

    ¡°That¡¯s all I can do for now,¡± he said, then called out, ¡°Jess, what¡¯s our status?¡±

    A feminine voice echoed down the hallway. ¡°Done! We can leave now!¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s delta,¡± the man said. ¡°David, time to say goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± David nodded, then turned back to Dorio. ¡°How¡¯s Pilar?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll live,¡± she said, eyeing the squad he was with. A kid¡ªno, a very young-looking girl¡ªcame jogging back from the corridor.

    ¡°So this is what you do when you¡¯re not around?¡±

    ¡°That or the Academy,¡± David shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll talk more when we¡¯re not in the sights of corporate guns, alright?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±

    With that, they were gone, disappearing down the hall.

    Pilar gritted his teeth, pushing himself upright before kneeling beside Rebecca. He placed a hand gently on her head, his voice strained.

    ¡°We need to get her to a Ripperdoc.¡±

    Dorio exhaled sharply. ¡°We will.¡±

    She lifted Rebecca, adjusting her carefully, while Pilar struggled to keep up.

    It didn¡¯t take long to see the aftermath Maine had left behind.

    One group of four lay sprawled on the floor, bodies charred, with high-tension cables still spitting electric arcs nearby. Further down, another group lay unconscious¡ªfaces slack, limbs twisted at odd angles. The dents in the walls, some shaped suspiciously like heads, suggested they¡¯d been taken out with brute force.

    When they reached the fire exit leading to the upper floors, they spotted Maine finishing off a soldier with a clean shot to the head. His AJAX clicked as he reloaded, his stance relaxed but ready.

    ¡°Path¡¯s clear,¡± he said, glancing up at them. ¡°But they¡¯re smarter than I gave ¡®em credit for.¡±

    Dorio eyed the destruction. ¡°What did you do to clear the way?¡±

    Maine exhaled sharply, giving the AJAX one last check before slinging it over his shoulder.

    "Electric grid was exposed in one section, so I lured a few into a shock trap. The others?" He motioned toward the crumpled bodies. "Let''s just say they got real intimate with the walls."

    Pilar let out a short, pained chuckle. "Remind me never to piss you off, big guy."

    Maine just smirked, then shifted his gaze to Rebecca. His expression darkened. "She doesn''t look good."

    Dorio nodded. "She''s barely hanging on. We need to get her to a Ripper, fast."

    Maine didn''t hesitate. "Then let''s move."

    With Rebecca secure in Dorio¡¯s grip and Pilar pushing through his own pain, they ascended the fire exit. The building still creaked from earlier damage, the distant sounds of corporate squads echoing through the lower floors. The moment they reached the main hall, Maine kicked the door open and scanned the area.

    "Coast is clear," he muttered. Then he tapped into his comms. "Falco, you in position?"

    A few seconds of static, then¡ª

    "Got eyes on ya, big man. Meet me at the west side. Got the ride warmed up."

    Maine gestured for them to follow. "Let¡¯s get the hell outta here."

    <hr>

    ¡°Just remember to come back if the irritation returns, alright?¡± Vik said, wiping his glasses with a rag.

    ¡°Will do,¡± the patient replied, already heading out the door.

    It was a slow day at the clinic¡ªhad been ever since Vomi disappeared two weeks ago. These days, the place only got crowded when people gathered to discuss biz.

    David had managed to buy the Autoshop for next to nothing compared to its actual value. That meant Lev was working overtime, hiring staff, bringing in engineers, and sourcing supplies from the local scrapyards to get things running. Ciri was still deep into her studies, finally learning about the world without needing to ask a question every five minutes. She stopped by now and then, but way less often.

    Gloria, meanwhile, was back to regular shifts, keeping things steady. She sometimes mentioned how her coworkers gossiped about David and the Arasaka Academy¡ªhow jealous they were, how David was supposedly growing into his corpo role. But Vik knew better. David was playing the part, but whether he¡¯d actually follow that path was another story. If it weren¡¯t for all this symbiote, Klyntar¡ªwhatever the hell it was called¡ªmaybe he would. But with his gigs straddling both sides of the law, Vik wasn¡¯t betting on him becoming the next Yorinobu.

    Aside from that, the clinic had been quiet.

    Vik leaned back in his chair, slid his glasses on, and turned on the entertainment system. The Boxing Prize Fighters League was on. Had nothing to do with the WBA or WBC from the last century. These days, almost every boxer had chrome¡ªpain nullifiers, speed boosters, strength enhancers, reaction implants. Hell, some didn¡¯t even bother with real training anymore, just slotted a chip and moved like a pro overnight.

    Vik exhaled through his nose. No use dwelling on the good old days. They weren¡¯t coming back.

    Vik sighed and reached for the remote to turn off the screen, thinking about grabbing a snack to pass the time¡ª

    ¡°Viktor!¡±

    Misty burst into the clinic, but before she could say anything else, a group of people shoved past her. Vik recognized them instantly. And they weren¡¯t alone.

    They had two people in terrible shape.

    ¡°Vik, these people¡ª!¡± Misty started, trying to explain.

    ¡°They need help. Now.¡± Maine didn¡¯t wait for permission, just carried Rebecca straight to the recliner.

    Vik¡¯s casual demeanor vanished in an instant. Rebecca wasn¡¯t in any condition to wait.

    Pilar, struggling to stay on his feet, made his way to the cabinets, rummaging through them in search of medical supplies. ¡°Here, take this,¡± he muttered, shoving a pack of tools toward Vik. ¡°Just¡ªjust make sure my sis stays alive. We¡¯ll pay good eddies for it.¡±

    Vik took the tools but shot him a look. ¡°You need to sit down. Now. You keep moving around, you¡¯ll bleed out before I even finish patching her up.¡±

    ¡°But I¡ª¡±

    Dorio cut him off, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. ¡°Sit. You¡¯re not proving anything by dying of anemia in a clinic.¡±

    Reluctantly, Pilar sank into a chair, grumbling.

    Vik focused on Rebecca, quickly assessing her condition. A missing forearm. An eye gouged out. A broken leg. Some first-aid had been attempted¡ªsloppy work, but better than nothing.

    He grabbed a syringe, injecting anesthesia near her leg before carefully setting the bones in place. That part was straightforward. What worried him was her eye. One wrong move, one twitch of his hand, and he could hit a vein or, worse, cause a tumor.

    ¡°Steady hands, Vik. No room for mistakes.¡±

    He cleaned the wound carefully, using a fine-tipped tool to check for any debris. It wasn¡¯t just about stopping the bleeding; it was about making sure no infection would set in.

    He could feel the weight of Maine¡¯s presence nearby, watching closely. Vik didn¡¯t blame him. The kid was in bad shape, and even though Maine wouldn¡¯t say it, he cared.

    ¡°How¡¯s she lookin¡¯?¡± Maine finally asked, voice low but tense.

    ¡°She¡¯ll live, but she¡¯s gonna need serious work after this,¡± Vik muttered, focusing as he secured the dressing over Rebecca¡¯s eye socket. ¡°I am a ripper, with proper gear. I can stabilize her, but I can¡¯t rebuild her now.¡±

    Pilar let out a shaky breath, glancing between his sister and Vik. ¡°We¡¯ll get her whatever she needs. Just¡­ just don¡¯t let her die, alright?¡±

    Vik nodded. ¡°Not on my watch.¡±

    Dorio crossed her arms, glancing at the doorway. ¡°We can¡¯t stay long. Corpo heat might still be looking for us.¡±

    Vik didn¡¯t look up as he moved to Rebecca¡¯s arm, disinfecting the severed stump. ¡°Then you better figure out where you¡¯re heading next while I finish this.¡±

    The clinic was silent for a moment, except for the quiet hum of equipment and Vik¡¯s steady movements.

    Then, from the hallway, Misty¡¯s voice cut through the tension.

    ¡°There¡¯s movement outside,¡± she said, peeking at the cameras.

    ¡°What kind?¡± Vik asked, injecting meds into Rebecca¡¯s arm.

    Watson wasn¡¯t exactly known for heavy activity unless it involved gangs. Even then, gangsters tended to leave rippers alone¡ªholding grudges against medics was bad business when you might need patching up later.

    ¡°The kind we don¡¯t like.¡±

    Corpo suits, moving through the streets, asking questions. And not nicely.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Pilar muttered, trying to stand, but he underestimated how drained he was. His legs gave out, and he fell right back onto the couch with a grunt.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. You two should go. I¡¯ll handle them,¡± Vik said, nodding toward the door. ¡°You¡ªget to the back room. No one goes in there, so you¡¯ll be safe.¡±

    Pilar didn¡¯t argue this time.

    Maine took a moment to assess the situation in silence before nodding. ¡°Make sure they live.¡±

    Dorio followed him out, leaving Vik to his work.

    ¡°Sorry for the trouble, Misty. And thanks for the help,¡± Vik said with an apologetic smile.

    ¡°You need any help?¡± she asked, stepping closer. ¡°Never seen someone this messed up up close.¡±

    ¡°Then you haven¡¯t spent enough time around me,¡± he joked. ¡°But no, she¡¯s stable. If I do any more, her body¡¯ll get stressed and won¡¯t heal properly.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that work?¡±

    Vik sighed. ¡°Push her too far, and her body could reject the treatment¡ªcybernetics and all. She needs rest, food, and time to rebuild blood levels before anything else.¡±

    Vik glanced at the closed door. ¡°Same deal. He lost a lot of blood, but he¡¯s not critical. Just needs time.¡±

    Misty folded her arms. ¡°And if those corpos come knocking?¡±

    Vik sighed, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Then I tell ¡®em what they wanna hear¡ªnobody¡¯s here, and I¡¯ve got a business to run. Most suits don¡¯t like getting their hands dirty unless they have to.¡±

    She didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°And if they do have to?¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll cross that bridge when we get there.¡±

    Misty shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re way too calm for this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had worse,¡± he said, rolling his shoulders. ¡°You should get back to the Esoterica, make it look normal. Last thing we need is them thinking we¡¯re hiding something.¡±

    Misty hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t do anything stupid, Vik.¡±

    ¡°No promises,¡± he said, before turning back to Rebecca and checking her vitals.

    Stable, just as he said, but weak. Now, what could have caused this level of damage? If Vik recalled correctly, Rebecca didn¡¯t have any major cyberware¡ªno reinforced limbs, no subdermal plating. Her optics were standard, but nothing that justified tearing one out. Scavs usually went for biomonitors and neural ports, things they could resell later.

    Vik scanned her remaining eye, and there it was¡ªthe answer.

    A memory probe.

    Ripped straight from the socket.

    So this wasn¡¯t just a ripperdoc gone bad¡ªsomeone had tried to interrogate her. Torture her. And when pain didn¡¯t break her, they¡¯d gone for the brute-force method: direct memory extraction. Corporate methods, designed to shatter a person beyond repair. But there were signs she fought back. Vik noted the bruising on her knuckles, the hairline fractures in her ribs¡ªnot from the torture itself, but from taking hits. Bullet grazes, shallow cuts, and marks on her neck told the rest of the story.

    Rebecca fought like hell to get out.

    And that complicated things.

    Vik set the scanner to analyze her neural activity, searching for deeper trauma. Sure enough, her frontal lobe had taken a hit. It wasn¡¯t a concussion¡ªhe could¡¯ve handled that easily. This was worse. It meant potential personality shifts, impulse issues, maybe even permanent aggression. He could fix it¡­ but it wouldn¡¯t be pretty.

    For now, all he could do was let the meds work.

    Leaving Rebecca to stabilize, Vik grabbed his med bag and stepped into the back room where Pilar was resting.

    ¡°How is she?¡± Pilar asked the second Vik appeared.

    ¡°You want my professional opinion or my honest one?¡± Vik set the bag down beside him. ¡°Take off your shirt.¡±

    Pilar pulled it off, wincing slightly. ¡°Just tell me straight. She gonna flatline, or is she good to put a few rounds in some gonks?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll live.¡± Vik started prepping anesthetic. ¡°But there¡¯s a risk.¡±

    Pilar didn¡¯t like the sound of that. ¡°What kind of risk?¡±

    Vik injected the anesthetic before cutting into his skin, extracting the first bullet. ¡°Her brain took damage. From the torture. Not a concussion¡ªthose are easy. This? She¡¯ll need surgery. The kind that might change how she thinks. She could become aggressive at the slightest provocation.¡±

    ¡°Hah¡­ then you don¡¯t know my sister,¡± Pilar said, forcing a weak chuckle. But he didn¡¯t laugh. This wasn¡¯t funny. ¡°How bad is it?¡±

    ¡°Bad,¡± Vik said, dropping the bullet into a metal tray. ¡°Feel anything?¡±

    ¡°No. Numb as¡­ hell, I dunno.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Vik moved on to the next bullet. ¡°The risk is high. That¡¯s why I¡¯m asking you. I can¡¯t make this decision for her.¡±

    Pilar exhaled sharply. ¡°Can¡¯t we wait until she wakes up?¡±

    ¡°Short answer? Yes. Long answer? Yes, but if we do, the damage might be irreversible.¡± Vik met his gaze, dead serious. ¡°She could end up infant-minded, trapped in a coma, or¡ªworst case¡ªa conscious vegetable. If we wait too long, there¡¯s no undoing it. We have to decide now.¡±

    Pilar removed his weird glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

    This was his fault.

    He¡¯d talked her into being bait.

    ¡°Why the fuck did I think that was a good idea?¡±

    David could¡¯ve taken the role. Hell, Sasha would¡¯ve been an even bigger target for Biotechnica.

    ¡°Except we didn¡¯t know it was Biotechnica.¡±

    Fuck. Hindsight was a bitch.

    But now? Now he had to make a choice. Risk her life on the surgery or risk her mind by waiting. Could he live with himself if he did nothing? Could he live with himself if he did?

    ¡°¡­Do it,¡± Pilar said, voice firm. ¡°Please. It¡¯s better than nothing.¡±

    Vik nodded. ¡°Alright. Stay put. I¡¯ll finish patching you up, then get to work once her vitals are stable.¡±

    Pilar swallowed hard. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Now, all they could do was wait.