"These are all the models I have. Nothing stronger."
Maine scans the display case and shakes his head. Rocky can only spread his hands. Most of his cyberware comes through Vik's suppliers. It is reliable stock, not the exotic, high-load chrome that flows through the black market channels. The truth is simple: top-tier hardware shows up on cyberpsycho corpses more often than in legal catalogs, and Vik fronted the procurement eddies. Rocky is not about to buy expensive toys that only a handful can use.
For most edgerunners and gangers, what he carries already meets their needs. Maine's standards sit higher than most.
"If you are not satisfied with the inventory, you can bring your own cyberware, and I will handle the install," Rocky says. "I also do medical work, upgrades, refits, and repairs. Immunosuppressants and other standard meds are in stock."
Maine nods. The shop reads clean and serious, better than most back-alley outfits. "If I get something worth installing, I will come back. If you land anything good and strong, call me."
"Sent you a contact request. Ping me any time." The request lands, and Maine accepts.
Two light taps knock Rocky's left hand. Rebecca tilts her chin up. "Are you going to ask what I want? I have been standing here forever."
"Oh. I thought you were just here with Maine. Do you need an install?"
"Not an install. I want an ocular software update."
Rocky resets the chair to a normal profile after sizing it for Maine, then connects the surgical terminal to Rebecca's interface. He pulls her Kiroshi data, filters a set of compatible upgrades, checks the latest stable builds, and adds a few useful extensions to the queue.
"The update list is on the screen. If it looks fine, I will start. Your vision may go black briefly. It will pass."
She nods. He restarts the ocular. The update completes fast. Resolution calibrates cleanly; the analyzer runs better than before.
"Feels great. Thanks." She pulls the jack behind her ear and hops off the chair.
Maine points at a shelf lined with green syringes. "What is that?"
"Combat stimulant. Power Stimulant Type II. Inject, and for sixty seconds your movement speed rises by one third. Price is €230 per dose. Need some?"
He is interested. "Tested?"
"Tested. No side effects."
"Ten for me, and a month of immunosuppressants."
Rocky packs the order and receives the transfers from Maine and Rebecca. Before they go, he sends Rebecca a contact request; she accepts without thinking. No one refuses a reliable ripperdoc.
…
Vik's clinic.
Cans clink. They tilt their heads back and drain the energy drinks. Vik crushes his empty and tosses it aside. "How was your week? Business okay?"
"Okay. Japantown knows the name now. Wakako helped a lot."
A week has passed since Rocky opened the clinic. Other than the first day's deliveries, he stayed in the shop and worked, even turning down Jackie's commission. Running into Maine and Rebecca was just a small episode.
Tonight is sparring night with Vik. Rocky closed early and came over to lace the gloves.