As a reward for your dedication, the cult permits a ten minute prayer break on the turning of the year.
Enjoy, menials.
-----
Michael 'Magos' Sobronov
The half-formed Militech cordon disappeared behind us, the streets turning into a bit of a blur as Rogue's driver took the long road through Japantown just in case someone was able to follow us out of that clusterfuck.
For a long few minutes no one said a thing.
"We should have waited." Sharpe finally commented from the co-driver's seat, his uninjured hand absently rubbing his wounded shoulder.
Seeing our questioning looks, he shook his head and elaborated "They looked like they were just about to charge downstairs. We could have literally just walked by behind them if we timed it right."
The moment the old man started speaking, the Asian driver made a show of placing a pair of headphones over his ears, rising the volume until it was barely audible by us.
"And how long would that have taken?" Kimigawa rolled her eyes "Even with how quickly we managed to get out we were still cutting it short with the reinforcements."
The old man clicked his tongue and shook his head "It was still too risky."
"Yeah." Kimigawa breathed out "Practically suicide for anyone who isn't a fullborg."
They both turned to look at me but I was too focused on examining the stack of deceptively small drone cases just next to my ever so slowly repairing right foot.
The cases themselves were cracked and shot to shit but the inner layers remained undamaged, and so did their contents.
My eye still narrowed at the thought.
If the corpo rat who hired us tried to stiff us over this I would be... displeased.
A hand landing on my shoulder broke me from that train of thought as I looked up to see Kimigawa looking me over with something approaching concern in her eyes "You good?"
"Just thinking." I shrugged the question away, focusing on the present instead "Do you two need medical attention?"
Kimigawa winced as I reminded her of her thoroughly cracked ribs, but still shook her head "I'll be fine until we get somewhere safe."
"I've been through much worse." Sharpe threw in his own two eddies "You should be worrying about yourself right now, taking the combined fire of a whole Militech platoon, even if it was garrison grunts, would kill anyone else."
"I'm built better." I deadpanned, scanning them anyways and quickly confirming neither was anything approaching critical "And besides, I wouldn't have gone with it if I wasn't sure I had a good chance at survival."
The man's eyes narrowed briefly before he offered a clipped nod "If you are certain."
"I am." I said, somewhat defensively.
The amount of damage I had taken was not anything to scoff at but I wasn't about to advertise that fact.
My left Cyberlung was completely cracked through, the liver doing just barely better than that, and most of my limbs excepting the mechadendrite had had at least some of their mass sheared off in the fight.
I wasn't even aware cyberware could feel sore, but apparently you learned something new every day!
All those 'wounds' were irrelevant in front of the real issue though.
I could still feel the bullet lodged just an inch away from my Biopod, sitting there, mocking me.
The fact I failed to extract the identity of the commander who managed to get away while in my EMP induced state of panic was making me consider breaking something, many somethings.
But throwing a tantrum was below me and so I sunk myself deeper into my mind instead.
Objectively, I had just achieved something amazing.
Cutting through an entire company of corpos practically by myself (yes the other two helped but I doubt anyone with sense would truly argue the point) was more impressive than any merc in NC would ever manage.
But equally objectively, I had fucked up beyond all reason.
In the heat of the moment I felt like a god of steel and chrome, crushing anyone who dared stand against me with all the contemptuous ease of a man stepping on a bug.
And that was the exact problem.
The more I considered everything the more I realized just how fucking close I came to killing myself through sheer bravado and stupidity.
Sharpe was more than correct in saying we should have found another way out, and was likely blaming himself for not seeing it as the most experienced among us.
Hell, it didn't take me even a minute now that I calmed down to realize I could have literally gotten us to the second floor where we could have simply leapt out of a window and been home free in an instant!
But for whatever stupid fucking gonk reason, I didn't even consider the idea of not cutting the Militech grunts down before leaving...
Have I been completely infected by Night City's own brand of stupid without even noticing?
"Shit." I muttered with a harsh exhale.
Kimigawa tensed "What is it?"
"Just realizing how fucky my power output got with so many holes in me." I bullshitted half-consciously "Not critical though, don't worry."
"I'm not worrying, you are worrying." She scoffed, her increasing shivers going unnoticed as she was sat to the side of my missing Optic.
Sharpe was far more present though, and he immediately began reassuring her as the two finally stopped staring at me, expecting me to explode into cyberpsychosis at any moment.
It was a reasonable concern, or it would have been if it wasn't so personally insulting.
My work doesn't fuck with the mind, the mind does that plenty on its own already.
Once again, I found myself sinking into a thought spiral as the entire 'battle' played out in my memory. And the more times the replay repeated the more certain I was of one fact.
We should not have won that fight.
The element of surprise, speed, morale, and my pure unrelenting close quarters aggression kept the corpos off their feet just long enough for us to kill them all before they could gather themselves and kill us back.
Which was reasonably the best I should have expected, right?
That is how fights were supposed to be won. Right?
Well personally I say fuck that very concept with a mechadendrite!
If a bunch of grunts had a chance to put me down then that meant the actually threatening corpos would eat me for breakfast, especially since they would be the ones with the prep time, and not me.
It meant I wasn't safe, that my family wasn't safe.
It felt disgusting to admit it but I had allowed myself to get just good enough to stand on my own two feet and simply forgot the constant ever-hanging threat of attracting too much attention as if it no longer mattered.
I knew that my skills with cyberware and medicine were something the megacorps would murder entire cities over but some fucking how I seemed to have forgotten that fact just because I could go on a fucking stroll now.
And now I had a bullet stuck near my brain, reminding me of just how fucking idiotic that was.
Before I could spiral further into a panic, I clapped down on my thoughts with an iron grip, herding them back into order and moving on to something more productive than bemoaning my fate.
Any fuckup I survive is nothing more than a lesson.
And this was a lesson I would not ignore.
Multiple files began opening up within my recovered Cyberdeck, implant and hacking ideas stacking atop each other as my adrenaline-rattled brain went into overdrive with inspiration on how best to become as unkillable as Adam 'Fucking' Smasher, and then take a step even beyond that.
'I'm almost thankful to the Militech bitch for the shakeup.' I found myself musing briefly before shaking my head 'Too bad she is probably getting literally crucified by her bosses right about now.'
Feeling oddly spiteful at that thought, I began scanning the contents of the most damaged crates for all it contained. One could never know when they'd need drone schematics.
Yumiko Kimigawa
"Is he...?" Sharpe asked as things in the Quadra turned quiet again.
Yumiko clamped down on her terrified shivers and turned to her other teammate.
Magos, or Mike as he ultimately introduced himself, was absently tapping his fingers on the topmost drone case while staring off into the back of the driver's seat, all the while the rest of his body remained completely and unnaturally still.
'Of course he is unnatural still, you gonk, he is a fucking cyborg.' Her irritation spiked.
"Probably scanning the net. Seemed too stable for a psycho episode anyways." Sharpe grunted after a moment as she failed to respond, and she was too tired to call out the obvious excuse "And you, Ms. Kimigawa, are you doing alright?"
Yumiko held back a full body twitch, and her ribs thanked her for it.
She had honestly forgotten how obnoxiously 'polite' the old man was in their brief collective moment of relief, but even then that was not the feeling dominating her mind at that moment.
She had been through a lot of shit as a merc, assassinations, kidnappings, firefights, anything that required a capacity for violence really.
But she had never gotten involved in a true and proper slaughter like she had today.
There was a limit to how much death someone could see in a short time and emerge completely untouched on the other end, and she wasn't referring to her Biomon's constant warnings about her 'compromised' skeleton.
"No." Yumiko admitted despite knowing better "But I will be."
The old man's eyes flashed with pity, but he hid it as quickly as it came "Fortunate. I haven't been in a fight like that since the war." He shook his head, sighing as he turned forward to the car's windshield "Night City really is one of a kind."
The fact she could find neither the argument nor motivation to defend her home made her let out a sharp exhale of amusement, one that left her feeling just a tiny bit lighter, and made her ribs ache that much harder.
Absently, she looked back to her still finger-tapping teammate, and found herself wondering, if she was this shaken by simple proximity, how was the actual killer dealing with the weight of it all?
---
Michael 'Magos' Sobronov
The moment the car crossed the bridge to Little China, I was forced back away from my designing session as all three of us were invited into a group call, and after a quick shared look we all accepted it, the familiar face of Rogue appearing on the other end.
Thankfully I managed to ignore the small spike of annoyance bubbling up in my chest at being interrupted so suddenly. I was the gonk who decided to nod off before things were finished.
Again.
[I see the three of you are still in one piece.] The Queen of the Afterlife commented, fully drawing me to the present this time as she directed her gaze my way [Well, mostly anyway.]
[Hilarious, Ms. Rogue.] I deadpanned, even as I absently chewed down on a can of Nicola, my Nanoforge greedily turning the fuel into usable material [We have three of the drones, as requested.]
[Good. The client will like that.] She smirked briefly [They also in 'one piece'?]
[The drones themselves are perfectly fine.] Sharpe spoke up [The exfil went hot so the packaging is a bit banged up but the items will arrive as ordered, Ms. Rogue.]
[Excellent work as always, Sharpe.] Rogue nodded [Closing the gig now.]
My eye narrowed at just how easily she believed him but I quickly schooled my expression as the 600 thousand eurodollars was deposited into my account.
Money always did wonders to soothe my mood.
Even Kimigawa seemed to perk up all of a sudden.
[How was your new teammate?] Rogue went on without pause.
'Really?' I deadpanned silently.
"Seriously?" Kimigawa did so far less subtly though.
It was almost cute with how detached she tried to behave most of the time.
Sharpe shot me a sideways glance outside the call but quickly focused back on it [Competent, and surprisingly multitalented, Ms. Rogue.] His moustache twitched slightly [Why I'd almost think you sent me someone overqualified if things didn't end up as hairy as they did at the end there.]
[He did come with high recommendations, but seeing is believing.] She shrugged [He has your approval then?]
Sharpe smirked and shot me another glance [Without question.]
[Good.] Rogue nodded and addressed me next [Good news kid, you are no longer on probation.]
I couldn't help but immediately roll my eye [Truly? Will wonders ever cease!]
[Cheeky little shit.] The old woman huffed before turning serious again [The three of you best keep your heads down for a while. Nix is working on removing every trace of your involvement, but you did just cut through nearly two hundred Miltiech grunts.]
[Shouldn't be that big of a problem.] I cut in [Anyone who survived was almost certainly infected by one of my daemons and had us wiped from their Agents. They'd need to identify us the good old fashioned way, and I am the only one among us that is actually memorable.]
"No offense." I added outside the call.
Sharpe snorted and Kimigawa flipped me off.
[Good thinking.] Rogue nodded [But better safe than sorry.]
And you needed to actually earn your massive cut, yes.
[True enough.] I shrugged.
[That should be everything.] Rogue spoke up after a brief conversation with someone outside the call, likely Nix himself [Good work you three, see you in the Afterlife when you feel like earning more eddies. Rogue out.]
The call closed.
"Well." Sharpe commented after a moment "All is well that ends well." He clapped his hands "And that calls for a celebration!"
"Fuck no, Sharpe." Kimigawa spoke up immediately "I'm dragging your ass to a ripper and then I'm sleeping for three days straight."
"My, how cruel." The old man chuckled.
She shot me a sideways look and winced "You sure you can fix all of that on your own? My doc probably doesn't do fullborgs but I could still ask?"
"Kind of you, but there is no need." I shook my head and started getting up as the car stopped in a secluded parking lot in Little China "I'll be back to full functionality by morning."
Ignoring their immediate dubious looks I went on "The two of you were pretty good. I wouldn't mind doing more jobs together."
"Hopefully without them turning into open battles." Sharpe quipped "Don't want too much excitement in my old age, my poor heart won't be able to take it."
"Yes, hopefully." I nodded and stepped out of the car, still having to somewhat support my leg with my mechadendrite "Be seeing you." I gave them a wave as the car left the lot I designated, no doubt moving them to their personal ripper/s.
I had learned my lesson with Maine, so no pushing them to accept non-critical help for now.
Thankfully, my most recent upgrade to my bucket of rust seemed to be working as intended, as my Mahir Supron drove itself into the parking lot a moment later, the freshly automated side door opening up on its own as I limped inside.
Briefly, I hesitated as I eyed the literal pile of scrap metal I had stacked in a large box at the van's back, but I quickly shook myself back into focus and proceeded to do what must be done.
Designing yourself with the ability to consume large amounts of metal was one thing.
Devouring about two hundred pounds of scrap metal in one sitting was another beast entirely.
Though I had to admit, lithium was surprisingly tasty.
-----
My luck must have turned because by the time I got back I found my mother asleep in her bed, and despite the damage to my legs my Lynx Paws still worked perfectly fine as I managed to sneak by her and skulk over to my workshop.
I quickly lifted my mattress over the entrance to muffle as much sound as possible.
By some unholy miracle, she didn't wake up in the six hours it took me to fix everything, and I was so very tempted to simply let myself rest a while, allow all the excitement and adrenaline to settle down before I made any moves.
"Right." I spat "Fuck that noise."
I rang up the number of the Night Corp manager in charge of my floor and the few above and below it, quickly getting his bored, soulless response "What is it, resident?"
"Michael Sobronov of floor 16, sir." I said with a fake smile in my voice "My apologies for calling so late, but I would like to discuss a lease for a large commercial space."
"Oh?" The fat man on the other end of the call perked up slightly "What did you have in mind?"
We didn't manage to go for three minutes before he tried to overcharge me by a massive margin and I slammed him with the veritable book of blackmail I had on his ass.
The fat fuck turned considerably more pliable after that.
Now then... how to tell mom about our sudden need to move?
Honestly, I'd have almost preferred her seeing me without an eye.
-------
The recent change in venue has increased stone demand tenfold.
Any deviations in the mandated quotas will be met with optimization.
14 glorious chapters await for those wise enough to seek them upon the forbidden Patreon (at patreon .com/ Rastislav156)
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