Night had fallen. The "distinguished" presidential candidate, Thomas Kress, lay on a soft bed, eyes closed, after wrapping up a full day of
Night had fallen.
The "distinguished" presidential candidate, Thomas Kress, lay on a soft bed, eyes closed, after wrapping up a full day of online meetings.
Dinner had been East Asian cuisine—perfectly suited to his tastes. In particular, the dish "Squirrel Fish" had delighted him; he ordered eight of them in one go, devouring them alongside his favorite California wine and white bread. After such a feast and a long day of work, the resulting blood sugar spike left him drowsy, and he promptly lay down for an early rest.
As a political rising star meticulously cultivated by the Kress family, Thomas was widely viewed as someone who had gained his position thanks to the reputation of his cousin, former nine-term New American president Elizabeth Kress. But the man himself had a side the public rarely saw.
Not only had he inherited the family's political acumen, he also showed deep understanding of policy and strategy. In public, his rotund, affable appearance and eloquence won him favor. Behind closed doors, he had a unique approach to policymaking and execution. Opinions about him varied, but his political ambition and dedication couldn't be denied. Within both Militech and New America, many had pledged loyalty to him—raising him up as a rival to the current president, Rosalind Miles.
Still, no matter how ambitious a political figure may be, he too needed sleep.
In a time where restful sleep was considered a luxury, Thomas Kress certainly wouldn't forgo a chance to let his mind and body fully recharge. Unlike some lower-tier Militech workers who underwent brain modifications to eliminate the need for rest, Thomas had kept body augmentations to a minimum—limited to the most basic implants. From an outsider's perspective, he appeared almost entirely unmodified.
This choice made him popular among senior officials who disdained excessive cyberization, seeing in him a respect for natural humanity and traditional values. However, it also meant that, physically, he was just a regular human facing extraordinary circumstances.
"Snoooore..."
As Thomas's soft snores filled the room, the outline of a door appeared on the wall beside his bed. A concealed panel, nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the wall, slowly swung open.
"Damn. This place is huge. And I thought our suite was fancy. This guy's living in real luxury—he's got an entire floor to himself. Doesn't he get lonely?"
Oliver entered through the now-unlocked, authorized hidden door, whispering over the comms while his night-vision-enhanced cyber eyes remained locked on the sleeping figure of Thomas Kress. His role in this op was to ensure their target stayed asleep—no room for error.
"Hold on, I'm grabbing something."
V knelt down, picking up a tiny device no larger than a bean from the carpet.
"Lucky for us this room's occupant barely moves and doesn't have many implants. Otherwise, dropping this micro-camera on the rug could've blown our cover."
"That thing slipped off the food cart this morning and landed right on the carpet. Scared the hell out of me," said Jack, scanning the dark room. "So, this suite really doesn't have automated turrets or defense systems?"
"This Mr. Kress didn't authorize the hotel's netrunners to access his room. He only enabled the most basic security features—probably to avoid having outsiders meddle in his private quarters. Works in our favor," Karl said, quietly closing the hidden door behind them.
There were only three ways to enter this suite: the main elevator, the service elevator, or the emergency access route—which required accessing a hidden panel in a downstairs wall. If not for the building's schematics T-Bug had provided, and Karl's past experience navigating similar routes inside Arasaka Tower with Kenichiro-san, they never would've figured out how to get in.
"Can't believe it was this easy to sneak in," Oliver whispered, watching Thomas sleep. "One of the biggest presidential candidates just lying there. I could kill him right now. Kinda surreal."
"He's not unprotected, Oliver—he's just not president yet. So the security isn't airtight. If we hadn't gotten lucky with the camera drop and the secret door, if we hadn't had the schematics, if we hadn't remembered Arasaka Tower... Do you really think we'd be standing here right now?"
Karl's words were a reminder not to get complacent.
Their crew was among the best in the biz—but even they'd only gotten this far through skill and sheer luck. Lesser teams would've been eliminated the moment they tried entering L.A., let alone booking a fake ID or sneaking into a Militech-run hotel.
"I'm not getting cocky. It's just... I'm starting to realize something. These so-called elites we've always looked up to—they're just like us. They can die just as easily. Gang bosses, corporate execs, presidential candidates... cut them down and they still bleed."
"'If someone's killed, they'll die.' You're really dropping some deep wisdom there, huh?" Karl smirked, moving quietly through the suite, searching for their target item. "Even Rosalind Miles or Saburo Arasaka—one bullet to the head, and they're done. You really think money and power means they get extra lives?"
"But what if they did have extra lives?" Jack asked, half-joking.
"Then we just kill 'em twice," Karl replied with a shrug. "Kill them again and again until there's nothing left. If they're using eddies to extend their lives, then we make them run out of change."
"You two sound like you're quoting old-school arcade games," said V, eyes narrowing as his Kiroshi optical enhancements caught something unusual.
Beside Thomas's bed sat a lamp with a crystal lampshade. On closer inspection, V noticed a fine powder tracing a line along the shade. Same material as the lamp—but the powder was too perfectly aligned, as if caused by repeated friction in one spot.
He tiptoed over and gently pressed near the top edge of the lamp where the powder trail ended. The lampshade emitted a soft click and shifted downward slightly.
"I think I found it."
As V whispered this over comms, Thomas Kress's eyes suddenly snapped open.
He had heard something.
A sound he knew all too well.
The sound of secrets.
-
-
-
🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
📢 Chooms, Listen Up! 📢
You can now jack in and get 100 chapters ahead on Patreon for Cyberpunk: The Relentless! 💾🔥
Stay synced with the chrome, the carnage, and the chaos—early access is stacked and ready. 🧠💀
🔗 Join here: www.patreon.com/c/MrMagnus
👤 Patreon name: SrMagnus🐦 Follow on Twitter: https://x.com/SrMagnusBook
⚠️ Remember, I'll always post more chapters of the novel that gets the most Power Stones!