What a fast blade! Seeing Lin Mo's calm expression—showing no emotion as he drew his blade and sliced a fly mid-air—Maine's eyes widened. Th
What a fast blade!
Seeing Lin Mo's calm expression—showing no emotion as he drew his blade and sliced a fly mid-air—Maine's eyes widened.
The atmosphere grew tense. Lin Mo unsheathing his sword and cutting down a fly was completely unexpected; no one had imagined he'd pull off something like that.
But once everyone regained their composure, their reactions varied.
Rebecca didn't seem overly shocked. She found Lin Mo's flashy maneuver momentarily impressive, but ended up shaking her head with a smirk, her eyes filled with a hint of helplessness toward the younger man.
What era is this? And people still rely on such archaic techniques?
As the team's sharpshooter, Rebecca was a master of near-perfect marksmanship. Melee combat like Lin Mo's—discarded long ago in the age of smartguns and implants—seemed absurd.
The others had similar reactions. Pilar, arms crossed behind his head and a cigarette dangling from his lips, leaned back and watched Lin Mo with amusement, thinking he might teach the kid a thing or two if the chance came up.
But someone saw more than just a flashy display in Lin Mo's swift blade.
North Kawahiro didn't need to say anything. After all they'd been through, he wouldn't be surprised even if Lin Mo used his sword to cut a pile of crap. He knew every move Lin Mo made had a purpose.
But it was Maine—closest to Lin Mo—who immediately sensed something deeper in the motion.
It had been so fluid. So natural.
Lin Mo unsheathed his sword with the ease of someone picking up chopsticks. He hadn't even looked directly at the fly—just tracked it with peripheral vision, then sliced it mid-air with deadly precision.
So accurate… so effortless. Even a halfway trained fighter with that level of speed could dispatch most enemies with ease.
And at this close range, Maine—battle-hardened and heavily chromed—felt a chilling premonition. If this kid turned hostile, few of them would make it out alive.
What really caught Maine's attention were the ancient symbols etched into the blade. He didn't recognize them, but he felt the weight of old power radiating from the katana.
The blade glimmered faintly, almost like it had LED circuits running through it. But up close, the glow came from the runes themselves.
"Mr. Lin Mo, if I may ask… what kind of implants do you have?" Maine asked after a long pause.
Lin Mo nodded slightly. "Just call me Lin Mo. No need for titles. As for implants… I've got a Dynalar Sandevistan, a Kerenzikov, and a few minor biological mods."
Everyone's expression changed—except for North Kawahiro, who already knew.
"What!? You implanted a Sandevistan? No way. Your body shouldn't even be able to handle the side effects!" Pilar blurted out, his metal gibbon-like arms twitching restlessly.
As the tech expert of the crew, Pilar knew full well how dangerous Sandevistans could be if misused—or used too often.
Maine, his tone serious but calm, didn't doubt Lin Mo. He simply asked, "What version?"
"The Mark III—black market model from Dynalar." Lin Mo answered coolly. "That's why I believe no one here is better suited for the infiltration than I am."
Maine stared at him silently.
Pilar kept muttering, "This is insane…"
Lin Mo stood firm, unfazed. His tone wasn't arrogant, just confident.
"Lin Mo," Maine finally said, "as the employer, you've got the right to make demands. But you should know how things work for edge runners. We decide the mission structure—our lives are on the line out there."
Is he rejecting my proposal? Lin Mo frowned slightly.
Maine's tone was ambiguous, and the others seemed to interpret it as a soft 'no'.
But then, Maine removed his sunglasses, looked Lin Mo in the eye, and smiled slightly.
"…But since you're that confident, I might reconsider."
"Are you sure, Maine?" Dorio asked, her voice low, a hint of concern in her expression.
"Absolutely. I'm the leader. You follow my lead," he said firmly, raising a hand.
Then he looked at Lin Mo again. "How many times do you think you can activate that implant?"
"About ten times. More, if needed. It won't be too taxing," Lin Mo replied with sincerity.
Ten times? That's… reasonable, Maine thought.
"Bullshit! There's no way! Your body can't handle more than three activations. You'll pass out or worse!" Pilar interrupted, his face full of disbelief.
Lin Mo sighed and replied evenly, "I'm risking my life alongside you. Why would I lie about something this serious?"
Pilar grumbled but said no more. His logic couldn't argue with that.
Maine rubbed his chin, weighing everything.
Lin Mo didn't strike him as arrogant. And Kawahiro's trust in him said a lot. If a sniper like him was convinced, there had to be good reason.
Each member of Maine's crew had been handpicked. He trusted his instincts.
Finally, he nodded.
"All right. I'll leave it to you. Let's rework the op plan."
The new setup was simple: Lin Mo and Sasha would lead the infiltration. Pilar and Rebecca would cover the retreat. If things went south, Maine and Dorio would draw enemy fire.
"Any objections?" Maine asked.
"I do!" Rebecca raised her hand, glaring at Pilar. "Why do I have to be with this idiot?"
"Hey, just don't slow me down," Pilar said smugly. "But if you call me 'big bro' in a sweet voice, maybe I'll help you out."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed. She raised her pistol and aimed it right at Pilar's chrome-plated head. "Wanna die today?"
"No, no! I get shot at enough already. I don't need it from you too," Pilar grinned, unbothered.
"If there are no further objections," Dorio said, stepping up and patting Rebecca's small shoulder, "follow the plan."
Rebecca gave her brother a withering look, then glanced at Lin Mo, who seemed amused by the bickering. She sighed.
"…Fine."
"Good. Let's move out," Maine commanded.
The team mobilized immediately.
Falco dropped a travel bag on the floor and unzipped it, revealing a full spread of weapons and ammo.
Rebecca moved first, stuffing several magazines into her jacket. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth and started chewing.
Pilar reached in next, his mechanical arms snatching eight grenades, which he tucked into his belt with a wicked grin.
The rest of the team grabbed their gear.
Maine armed himself with a Crusher—a semi-auto shotgun from Budget Arms. Its recoil was laughable for someone with his size and chrome-enhanced strength.
Dorio took a Malorian Arms revolver and a custom Arasaka kinetic rifle, a prototype labeled HJSH-18.
"These are some big guns…" Lin Mo commented.
Compared to typical street punks and mercs, this crew was packing serious hardware.
Once armed, Maine synced the team into a secure comms channel.
As everyone headed downstairs, Lin Mo lingered behind, watching North Kawahiro as he adjusted his sniper rifle.
Kawahiro noticed the glance, locked eyes with the young man, and gave a short, respectful bow.
"I will not fail in this mission."
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