Q: How to get V's contact info.
A: You don't even need to try.
Heh.
This fool who dares to use XBDs without hesitation and jam any chip into her head in the game has zero sense of personal information security.
Mercer simply ran automated keyword searches on a few websites and immediately spotted a glaring post.
["I'm V, elite merc from Heywood. Sharp shooter, quick on the job. Contact for hires. Rates vary by difficulty."]
Mercer hacked into the forum's crappy server, got into the backend, and snagged not just the IP address she used to post but all her personal registration details too.
From the profile photo, it was unmistakable. The classic hairstyle and that defiant face. Yep, this V was the same V from the game, the protagonist!
And this female V even used the same character creation data as his streetkid V, right down to the white hair color specially designed to appeal to old-school anime fans like him.
Damn, that face is something else.
No wonder he'd spent so much time painstakingly recreating it from online references when building his character.
But because of this, the idiot basically handed out her personal info for free!
Anyone could get her contact details.
Mercer even knew where she lived now and had casually glanced at her rent price.
What can you say? Miss V is seriously down on her luck these days!
Northside Apartments, the cheapest housing option in the game.
Truth be told, it's not even an apartment; it's just a long-term rental motel!
Mercer piggybacked off some idiot streaming porn online, traced the connection, hacked the motel's server too, and after pulling up the tenant info, he couldn't help but sigh.
Poor Miss V is even a week behind on her motel rent.
No wonder in the game, V eventually decided to leave for Atlanta a few years later, only to fail there and come back...
The V right now is visibly green.
But that's fine. Getting to raise a legendary V from scratch again in real life? Heh, not bad at all!
Mercer shook his head, dialed V's number, and after just a few rings, an irritated female voice answered.
"Yeah? Which dumbass is calling now? Not buying insurance, not buying products!"
"You're the famous V, right? Got a job. Interested?"
Mercer lowered his voice, stifling a laugh.
The voice on the other end instantly turned polite and accommodating: "Ah, a client? I'll take it! What's the job?"
Asking what the job is after already agreeing to take it, anyone can tell you're desperate.
No wonder a few thousand eddies could talk you into charging through hell and back... But don't worry, with a good friend like me around, no one's going to lowball you with chump change anymore!
Look how starved for work my V has become.
"Tomorrow night, 8:30, Afterlife Bar. Be there, V."
After Mercer spoke, the breathing on the other end grew heavy: "Afterlife? You mean..."
"What? Prefer somewhere more your style? Lizzie's Bar? The Coyote Cojo?" Mercer couldn't help but throw some sarcastic remarks her way, "Come on, pull yourself together, you're the V I admire the most! Don't let me down!"
"Ahem, so Afterlife it is, but, uh..." V's voice suddenly sounded a bit hesitant, "Are you sure you're looking for me? I mean, what kind of job is it exactly? Just so we're clear, I don't do any shady stuff, only what a proper merc should do!"
Mercer sighed and finally said bluntly, "Stop overthinking it. We'll talk details when we meet. I won't ask you to do anything beyond your capabilities."
"Alright then, what should I call you?" V asked cautiously, clearly worried the deal might fall through.
"A. Similar to your name. Just say you're with A when you get there, and security will let you in." Mercer had already figured out how to spin this.
After being called a "little brat" by Panam, he wasn't planning on showing his real face to anyone anytime soon. First impressions matter, if people first met the formidable "A," they wouldn't underestimate him even after seeing the real person. But if their first glimpse was of his current youthful, handsome-boy appearance, changing that perception would be tough.
"Great! A it is, then, see you tomorrow!" Her excitement was unmistakable.
Mercer hung up and shook his head. Well, if nothing else, he'd have to find her some work soon, at least to help her cover the rent. Maybe instead of handing that job to Rogue, he could let V give it a shot? Thinking about it, she'd definitely charge less than Rogue, and cutting out the middleman wasn't a bad idea either.
—--
By then, a few replies had come in for the emails he'd sent out. These fixers were efficient, or maybe it was just that not many dared to message them so boldly.
[Wakako Okada: I'm not in the habit of doing business with strangers, especially those who show up uninvited and unknown to me. My office is behind the pachinko parlor in Kabuki. If you're willing to send someone to talk in person, I might consider giving you some work.]
[El Capitán: Hmm, sounds like someone with skills. I could use a new vehicle hijack software. My requirements: fast unlocking, quick vehicle ID verification, and ideally some mobile hijacking features, like being able to take over someone's vehicle system on the move, boot the owner out, and drive off. If you can deliver, payment depends on quality. Send the product via email, and I'll have an expert evaluate it.]
[Mr. Hands: Oh? I do have jobs that require a netrunner. But I never work with people I don't know, Mr. A. I'll find you, and we can discuss work then.]
As for the others, they hadn't replied at all, probably dismissing him as some overconfident rookie and too busy to bother.
The first two were easy to handle, get V sorted and send her to meet Wakako, then write a program for El Capitán. But this Mr. Hands... backed by a Cuban crime syndicate and daring enough to compete with Colonel Hansen for business, he was a different story. With such a sharp retort, the other party even tried to turn the tables and dox Mercer, though the tone was arrogant, Mercer genuinely wanted to see what this person was capable of.
So, he immediately replied with separate messages.
[A: Ms. Wakako, I will send someone to meet with you as soon as possible.]
[A: Send me all the vehicle systems you need cracked, the original versions will do.
Universal unlock software, no updates included: 10,000 eddies.
Vehicle ID verification bypass: 50,000 eddies.
This part doesn't include updates, but I guarantee Quickhacks that won't trigger alarms for any vehicle software within the system version you provide.
Remote hijacking software: 100,000 eddies (foolproof version), brute-force crack, ignores system defenses.
Permanently effective unless corporations patch the vulnerabilities and deploy countermeasures.
Delivery within three days after I receive the materials.]
[A: Mr. Hands, backed by Cuba, let's be honest, if I wanted to, you'd never find me.
Whether you go to Dogtown's sliders or seek experts in Cuba, the result will be the same.
I came to Night City with no intention of leaving. Sooner or later, this city will know my name.
So if you want to cooperate, save the useless tactics. Name a target, I get it done, you pay. Simple as that.
If I were to connect with Colonel Hansen, I imagine that would be very bad news for you, Mr. Hands.
By the way, I've seriously considered making Dogtown my base of operations. If you're sincere, Mr. Hands, why not start us off on the right foot?]
—--
After sending the messages, Mercer stopped replying for the time being. He'd spent the whole afternoon handling all this on his computer, and honestly, it left him feeling a bit frustrated.
If he had an ice tub or a netrunner station for deep diving, he could have finished all this in under half an hour in Cyberspace.
Using a computer or connecting directly via neural link required converting brainwaves into data for upload, then translating network data back for reception. The round-trip delay was high, not to mention the lack of intuitiveness.
For targets close by, it was manageable.
But operating across Night City's entire network through a computer connection meant even higher latency and greater computational demands.
In a deep dive, his consciousness became the data itself in the Net, and what he saw were highly intuitive models built from data.
No matter how abstract or strange it might look to an outsider, to a netrunner, everything in Cyberspace was an intuitive data structure.
Plus, deep diving allowed for accelerated thinking, moving through the Net, getting up close to data entities, and performing zero-latency viewing and hacking.
Not to mention the supporting cooling systems and computational boosts that further unlocked a netrunner's mental capabilities.
It looks like I need to prioritize getting a cyberdeck or a station, Mercer decided.
He used to cruise the web using Arasaka's servers. Lately, it felt like running a weighted marathon through the network, exhausting.
The lack of server computational support was annoying too; this laptop's CPU felt like it was on the verge of overheating at any moment.
But if the CPU wasn't smoking, his head would be. Sigh, the early stages of starting out were always troublesome.
--------
Ty SnowRose for the images you share.
Bonus chapter @1300 power stones.