With the raw materials finally delivered, Rocky can start refining stimulants. He loads the alchemy table with ingredients for twenty secondary potions. After selecting the recipe, he finishes twenty bottles tuned for acceleration twenty minutes later. He then brews twenty bottles focused on recovery.
He combines one of each secondary potion on the alchemy table, adds the final fusion reagent, and produces twenty full doses of stimulant after another twenty minutes. He moves the container of finished liquid to the synthesis bench; the scanner's analysis matches the description, so everything checks out.
He switches the bench to synthesis mode, feeds metal and glass stock, and lets it run until twenty drug tubes are formed. He takes up the laser engraver and marks each tube:
[Ascension Technology Manufactured]
[Power Stimulant Type I]
He transfers the stimulant into autoinjector syringes and seals them. Green fluid rests quietly in each tube. The first batch is done. He shelves the product and starts thinking through sales channels when a new visitor requests to ping the clinic.
Through the door cam, two visitors appear. Large blocks of Asian-style tattoos and the katanas on their backs make the ID easy: Tyger Claws. Likely a referral from Wakako. He approves the request, and the door unlocks.
One man's right cyberarm has torn synthskin, exposing metal framing. The internal prosthesis shows heavy trauma, and even the Mantis Blades housing is hanging open. His right abdomen is clearly injured; he clamps it with a makeshift pad that cannot stop the blood trailing onto the clean clinic floor. The other man looks unhurt — the escort.
That fits the pattern. No one with injuries walks alone into an unfamiliar back-alley clinic, especially someone cromed up. More than one ripper runs dirty and sells patients to Scavs. Gangers and mercs usually have a trusted ripperdoc, and if they try a new one, they bring a watcher.
Rocky guides the patient to the operating table and injects a strong hemostatic near the wound."Sent by Wakako?" he asks.The escort nods. "Yeah. Got hit nearby. Wakako said there's a ripper here we can trust, so we came."
The escort eyes Rocky's young face and doubts creep in, but Wakako's name carries weight. The boxing trophies on the counter add a little more. He decides to watch the work before he judges.
Rocky gives the damaged Mantis Blades a quick exam. They are broken but not beyond repair."The arm prosthesis is damaged. Repair or replace?"
"How much to repair?"
"€2,000 for the arm. With surgery and treatment, €4,000 total. Wakako's referral gets you €3,600."
The patient nods. Fair price, even cheaper than his usual clinic with the discount."Do it."
"Treatment first." Rocky strips the ruined forearm off cleanly, sets it aside, and applies local anesthesia. He removes two bullets, disinfects, stops bleeding, sutures, and bandages. Two years in the craft have made work like this routine.
He moves to the bench, lays out tools and parts for the prosthesis repair. A ripperdoc is a surgeon and a tech in one, and sometimes even a tattooist. Repair sits in scope.
He peels back the synthskin, exposing the mechanical skeleton, takes up a driver — and pauses. He remembers a better option.
"Repair will take some time, but not long. Wait here," he says. He asks the escort to watch the patient, then carries the damaged arm into the production room.
Out front, the escort frowns when the door closes. The tools were ready. Why take the arm inside? Planning a swap? He keeps the thought to himself and decides to give Wakako her face.
On the table, the patient tests his breathing and nods. "Feels better already. Wakako trusts him, and I think his hands are good. Better than my last ripper, anyway.""Maybe. Good hands don't mean he won't run a scam. We'll see."
Inside, Rocky sets the damaged prosthesis on the module anvil, adds the required metal stock, and selects repair. The anvil hums. A moment later, a restored Mantis Blades forearm sits in front of him.
So convenient. Traditional repair is obsolete when the anvil can restore durability as long as you feed it the right materials. The cost drops to almost nothing. The only snag: the repair looks too new. Even the inner blade shows no wear marks.
Fortunately the arm wears synthskin in normal use, so no one will notice the internal finish. Looking new is not exactly a crime, and if someone does notice, it is easy to explain.
He waits a reasonable time, then carries the arm back out.