As Mercer returned to the bar, Claire rose from behind the counter, her expression still slightly shaken, and asked with concern, "Are you alright? That was really..."
He waved her off. "Just get me an iced cola first."
"Damn... you okay?" Panam also vaulted over the bar, glanced at Fenrir still twitching on the floor, and kicked him aside in disgust.
She clicked her tongue, thinking Night City was far more terrifying than she had imagined, a lunatic who could snap and go berserk at the slightest provocation was genuinely frightening.
No one had expected an actual fight to break out. This was Afterlife, after all. Who would dare start a shootout here? That would be suicide.
The cyberware of the kicked-aside Fenrir was still sparking from the Initiate Overload, making everyone worry he might burst into flames any second.
"I'm fine... It seems surviving in Night City requires extra caution for a netrunner like me."
Mercer sighed. "If it weren't for V, I'd probably be full of holes today."
"Hey, I told you, these guys are all bark and no bite."
V's tone turned tough again as she sat confidently nearby, raising a hand to Claire. "Get me a shot of Centzon Totochtin, straight, light ice."
Panam stayed silent, though she seemed both annoyed and irritated. She shot a glance at Mercer.
"Daring to start a fight in Afterlife... Even if he didn't die today, Rogue would have someone finish him off later. Hah, this at least gave me a firsthand taste of the Sandevistan's power."
"Honestly, a netrunner like me should really stay far away from the front lines," Mercer remarked, lightly tapping the counter to get the attention of Claire, who still looked like she'd narrowly escaped death.
Claire grumbled but moved swiftly. "You guys really caused quite a scene. How can you still have the stomach to drink?"
She placed the poured cola in front of Mercer.
"Was it my fault? That netrunner tried to hack me sneakily. I just retaliated, and then his buddy wanted to 'talk'."
"So we talked; I figured it'd just be some tough talk, but he just snapped like that."
Mercer shook his head helplessly, picked up the iced cola Claire handed him, lifted his mask, and took a sip.
Claire sighed, then noticed Rogue walking down the aisle from the depths of the bar, her face dark. "What happened?"
"Two netrunners got into it somehow. Then this guy stood up, said a few words, and just lost it. His teammate tried to inject him with something, but before the meds could take effect, Fenrir sliced him into three pieces..."
"After that, this guy called A and the woman over there took Fenrir down."
The security guard briefly summarized the situation. Rogue turned to Mercer, annoyed. "I had a feeling it was you. Really making a splash on your first day, huh?"
"To be honest, I really wasn't looking for trouble."
Mercer spoke truthfully; he felt he'd been pretty low-key. So how had things escalated to this point?
He and Panam both turned to look at V, who felt even more wronged. "Alright, A, I admit I underestimated them at first. But was I supposed to happily say 'sorry' when he asked me to be his drinking companion?"
Mercer also found this quite reasonable, and turned to look at Rogue: "Exactly, Rogue. When a netrunner tries to hack into my brain, I can't just cheerfully open it up for them, can I?
He hacked me, so I hacked back, and then his boss went insane after just one look at me. I'm the one who should feel wronged here.
Next time, I'll strike first, get some distance and lock down all their cyberware. Once they're useless, then we can talk."
"Alright, alright, no one's blaming you. I just think... you're definitely going to cause even bigger trouble in the future."
Rogue was certain of this; she knew some people were just born troublemakers, the type who attract chaos just by walking down the street.
And Mercer...
Rogue glanced at Fenrir's corpse on the ground, thinking: Night City might really be turned upside down again.
"Throw the body out to their own people. Anyone injured, get them to a hospital, fast."
After saying this, Rogue nodded at Mercer. Though it sounded like a warning, there was a hint of concern in her tone: "Don't cause trouble here. Fenrir had some reputation in these parts.
No matter how skilled a netrunner is, they can't stop a bullet, or a shell, flying at them from beyond their line of sight. Let alone a Sandevistan up close."
Mercer nodded in full agreement: "You're right. After this, I'm going to lie low at my netrunner station for a while. Even if I have to fight, I definitely don't want to test the Sandevistan's strength up close again."
After nearly being taken out in one hit by the Sandevistan, Mercer decided it was best to focus his talents on the netrunner station for now.
As for going out and trading fire with these maniacs, isn't that what V is for? He'll just stay in the back, link up with V's network, and provide technical support.
The rifleman, who had been keeping his head down and covering his face, wiped his eyes and silently hoisted the large body onto his shoulder, heading out.
"Please help me load the body into the car," the rifleman said. Two security guards exchanged a resigned glance but didn't complain, bending down to help carry Fenrir and the shotgunner—now in three pieces—outside.
Another guard glanced at the netrunner, who was still breathing: "Should we call an ambulance for you?"
"They have Trauma Team membership. Just leave them outside," the rifleman replied, looking utterly defeated. He didn't even bother exchanging words with Mercer or V, focused only on saving what was left of his crew.
—--
Mercer watched quietly as they left, then shook his head: "That guy's finished."
V, coming down from her adrenaline high, sighed: "No kidding. His crew wiped out in the blink of an eye, and most of them taken out by their own boss..."
"But you're seriously impressive! Just sitting there, and with a few words, the enemy netrunner's head started smoking!? And Fenrir, you hacked him too, right?
Just over three seconds, and a top-tier merc was turned into a cripple!"
V turned to stare at Mercer, full of admiration, and gave a thumbs-up: "I've never seen a netrunner this badass before. Honestly, A, if you wanted to hack me, how long would it take? Face to face, like this!"
Mercer shot her a glance, and suddenly V's vision flickered with garbled code. A crimson progress bar appeared before her eyes.
"[Detected intrusion in progress!]" Then the intrusion progress bar flickered for barely a moment before vanishing, replaced by a little penguin wearing a scarf and puffing on a cigar.
The penguin appeared behind her retina, actually waved at V, then automatically shrank to the lower right corner of her vision.
"Holy shit!" V was so startled she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Mercer took another sip of cola, smacking his lips as if savoring the taste of V's neural link data. "The built-in network protection on your neural link is absolute garbage."
"Though you're not exactly stupid, I'd guess, uh, your intelligence stat isn't exactly high."
After a pause, Mercer continued, "My advice is to install an ICE program in your frontal cortex, just like that Fenrir model, or I could rewrite the program for your neural link from scratch."
"Otherwise, forget about a netrunner at my level, even that four-eyed guy from earlier could hack you in three or four seconds tops."
V looked incredulous. "So you're saying mercs like me are basically free kills for netrunners like you?"
"Not exactly," Mercer explained briefly. "Generally, this kind of direct netrunning requires close proximity, at least close enough for a cybereye to scan your network signal."
"Plus, when most netrunners send programs during a hack, the processing power drain leaves their brains in a state where they can't really think."
"In other words, while running programs, most netrunners become stationary targets."
"As for me... my brain's a bit more efficient. Running one or two programs usually doesn't affect my thinking."
"But in situations like just now, where a netrunner needs to focus entirely on offense and defense, even I become sluggish when fully engaged in cracking the opponent's programs."
Mercer's words eased V's worries a little, and she couldn't help complaining, "You people are just unreasonable... amateurs like me have no idea how to counter this."
"Don't worry, average netrunners aren't that skilled."
Mercer said calmly, "For regular netrunners, just upgrading your neural link model and slotting an ICE program chip into the interface can buy you six or seven seconds."
ICE programs used to guard against netrunner intrusions generally only fit in three locations.
First, in the built-in memory of the neural link. Major brands usually come with proprietary firewalls, which are enough to handle average netrunners.
If you're really worried, get an ICE program chip written by a netrunner and plug it into the neural link's dedicated slot.
Generally, cracking such a pre-written chip program face-to-face would take an average netrunner about ten seconds—plenty of time to emergency disconnect your device from the network if needed.
Second, there's the cyberdeck, which is usually only installed by netunners. It offers larger storage space and a dedicated mini-CPU, allowing you to store multiple ICE programs the same way you'd store quickhacks.
Though ICE is often simply explained as a firewall, its full name is actually "Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics." Its function is to engage in real-time electronic warfare with incoming programs, not just defense, but offense as well. Theoretically, as long as the cyberdeck's CPU and the brain can handle it, it's possible to run multiple ICE programs simultaneously to counter both intrusion and counter-intrusion.
The third method involves installing specialized Self-ICE in the frontal cortex—essentially embedding a dedicated electronic countermeasures hardware unit in your head. This cyberware is packed with ICE programs and high-grade chips that provide computational power, supplementing your brain.
It can be considered the best non-netrunner defense against netrunners.
Even Mercer would need considerable time to perform a face-to-face hack on someone equipped with this ICE cyberware. The speed of his intrusion would depend on the quality of the chips and programs installed.
This made Mercer somewhat nostalgic for his deep dives at Arasaka, when he was connected to large servers, no matter what defenses were in place, if it was online, he could hack it all in a second.
"Alright, so, A," V said, looking at the virtual penguin still puffing a cigar on the edge of her retina display, her expression barely contained. "Can you delete your program now?"
"No."
Mercer chuckled. "Don't worry, what I installed is an encrypted communication software."
"The default comms software on neural links is a cheap slut; anyone with skill can snoop or monitor it. It's not secure."
He paused, then added, "My encrypted comms software latches onto your existing comms software. It only activates when you're communicating with allies. Its background resource usage is negligible; you won't even notice it."
V still seemed hesitant, but Mercer laughed.
He turned to look her in the eye. "Once Rogue gets me the intel I need, I'll formally assign you the mission."
"If you perform exceptionally well, I'll consider bringing you officially into my team to handle all field operations for my affairs."
"In other words, V, I didn't come to you just to hand out a job."
"I want to partner up with you."
"Don't worry about payment, I'm always fair. You'll get paid exactly what the work is worth."
"I guarantee you won't get shortchanged."
V hesitated, studying Mercer's eyes behind his mask. "Why me?"
"I mean..."
"If you were just looking for someone to do a job, finding me wouldn't be that strange. I've got a bit of a rep in Heywood."
"But if you were aiming for a partner from the start, my reputation isn't nearly enough."
"You're someone who can chat and laugh with Rogue. Give it to me straight, otherwise, I won't feel steady doing the work."
Panam was all ears now, incredibly curious, where did Mercer dig up such a fierce and striking woman?
"So you're saying I should only work with professional mercs who can get into Afterlife?" Mercer smiled, but V nodded earnestly.
She spread her hands. "You can see I'm running scrap. I can handle the street-level punks, but against that cyberware monster earlier..."
"If he hadn't been fixated on taking you out first in his frenzy, both of us would probably be dead today."
"A, level with me."
Mercer thought for a moment, then decided to be relatively candid with V.
Whether he could recruit V would largely depend on how well his next words resonated with her. Thus, Mercer looked into V's beautiful cybernetic eyes with a sincere gaze and began to explain his reasoning.