STZZZZ!... STZZZ!... STZ!..FWICK!.
"Alright." Vik muttered, his tools whirring as he sealed the last incision. He'd just finished installing Teo's COX 2 Cybersomatic Optimizer within his frontal cortex, a cutting edge piece of cyberware designed for basic quickhack integration, but to hyper optimize neural pathways for pure lethality.
It wasn't about data processing anymore, it was about weaponizing thought, accelerating the neural impulses responsible for delivering devastating quickhacks straight into an enemy's wetware.
This optimizer allowed Teo to push far more complex and damaging quickhack payloads, drastically reducing resistance time and amplifying their debilitating effects, essentially turning his mind into a precision guided missile launcher for the Net. Some pream shit if you ask him.
It had been a few days since the brutal ambush at the Night City Zoo. The operation had been a success, the controlled chaos that left a grotesque scene of shattered synth steel and atomized flesh in its wake.
Everyone had made bank, too, a full $25,000 eddies payday per person. And After the immediate adrenaline had faded, Jackie and Teo had wasted no time visiting their favorite resident ripperdoc, Viktor Vektor, to get their wounds patched up and stray bullets removed. The lingering scent of antiseptic and ozone was now a familiar comfort in Vik's clinic.
Teo sat in the worn, comfortable ripperdoc chair once again, using some of his recently acquired funds to harden his defenses. After taking a few hits during the zoo gig, he'd decided it was time for some discreet, defensive chrome.
He had two new implants installed. The first was Reinforced Subdermal Weave (Light Combat Grade), a fine, flexible mesh of hardened polymer and metallic threads woven just beneath his skin, primarily across his torso and limbs. Unlike bulky combat armor, this weave offered a subtle, light layer of protection designed to absorb kinetic impact and deflect glancing blows without hindering his agility or profile.
It was enough to stop most small arms fire and blunt force trauma, a crucial safeguard for a netrunner who preferred to avoid direct physical confrontation but often found himself thrown into the thick of it. The second, as Vik had just finished calibrating, was the COX 2 Cybersomatic Optimizer in his frontal cortex.
Vik, who'd just finished closing the subtle seam in Teo's forehead, watched as Teo's SpecterNet Optics rebooted. The emerald orbs, moments ago dim and clouded, flickered, then flared to a bright, almost incandescent luminosity, his slitted pupils going from dilated pools back to their sharp, focused form. "Never will get over that," Vik said, a low rumble in his chest, watching the high-grade cyberware calibrate with microscopic precision. The process was always unnerving, the mind-bending fusion of human and machine.
As Teo's vision snapped into focus, he saw Vik's face, etched with a familiar mixture of professional detachment and slight concern, swimming into clarity. Teo blinked, trying to clear the residual fuzz from his brain, a phantom hum vibrating behind his optic implants. His left hand, resting on the armrest, gave a slight, almost imperceptible tremor, a faint, rhythmic pulse. He quickly clenched it into a fist, hoping Vik hadn't noticed.
"Here, take the immunal blockers. Two implants in one day will take a lot out of you," Vik said, holding out three green pills.
Teo stretched his hand, his fingers slightly stiff, to slowly grab the pills. As he reached, a barely discernible tremble ran through his forearm, extending up his arm. He quickly popped them into his mouth, swallowing them with a gulp. "Gracias, Vik. How much I owe you for this?" Teo said, pushing himself up slightly in the chair. He felt a weird, buzzing energy, not unpleasant, but alien, coursing through his new chrome.
"9000 even for the chrome." Vik replied, his eyes, however, lingering on Teo's form for a moment too long. "You're shaking a bit, choom. Everything okay? The implants shouldn't give those side effects after install."
Teo, already swinging his legs off the chair, forced a nonchalant shrug. "Nah, just the usual post chrome jitters, Vik. Nothing I can't handle." He hopped up, the slight tremor in his leg quickly suppressed. He accessed his OS with a thought, navigating his account. The screen flashed, and a notification confirmed the transfer, $9,000 eddies drained from his balance. His remaining funds now stood at a solid $47,000 eddies. A good chunk, but worth it for the added security and lethal edge.
"Thanks for the discount, Vik. Always a pleasure," Teo called out, already heading towards the stairs that led up from the clinic. The money was a lot, but this was Night City. You invested in yourself, or you ended up in a meat wagon.
He climbed the worn steps, the familiar smell of antiseptic fading as he neared the street-level exit. Just as his hand reached for the door, a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift ran through his SpecterNet Optics.
It wasn't a visual distortion, but a, cold sensation that briefly intruded on his thoughts, a foreign presence at the edge of his awareness, then receded, leaving a chill in its wake. "The fuck." he muttered shaking his head sharply, trying to clear his mind, and pushed open the door, stepping out into the grimy Night City night.
Teo stepped out of Vik's clinic, the sterile scent of antiseptic quickly replaced by the familiar Night City air, a dizzying cocktail of exhaust fumes, stale synth food, and distant ozone. He began his walk back to Heywood, passing the usual urban ballet of desperation and ambition.
Headlights blurred into streaks as aero cars zipped overhead, casting fleeting shadows that danced with the flickering neon signs below. A few blocks down, he passed Gale's old noodle bar, now a brightly lit, garish kebab stand blasting synth pop. "Szechuan noodles," he muttered, a phantom taste of the spicy broth on his tongue, almost mourning the comfort food he'd lost that one day. The city throbbed around him, a living, breathing machine that cared little for individual woes.
After ten minutes of navigating the grimy streets, avoiding the stares of lurking gangers and the glint of chrome in shadowed alleyways, he made it back towards the Coyote. The neon sign of the bar, a faded but still vibrant coyote howling at a permanent digital moon, offered a familiar comfort. He walked up, slid the door open with a soft hiss, and stepped inside.
Ir was noon, and the bar was lightly populated at this time of day, a low hum of chatter and clinking glasses filling the space. The air was thick with the scent of cheap beer and even cheaper synth smoke. He walked toward his usual spot at the bar, and just then, his Aunt Mama Welles emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her sharp eyes, usually warm, held a slight frown when they landed on him.
"Teo, miho, Jack told me you went to Vik again," she said, her voice laced with a concern that cut through his usual indifference. She walked towards him, her brow furrowed. "Mijo, you are chroming up too fast. It has only been over a month since you started in person merc work. Take a break from the implants." She reached out, her hand gently touching the subtle, healing seam on his forehead.
Teo met her gaze, his own vivid green eyes holding a deeper, more vulnerable light than he usually allowed. He nodded, looking up at her. "I know, Tia. I hear you. But... that netrunner I fought last time? He was good. Better than me, maybe. He almost cooked my brain. I don't ever want to feel like that again. I need to be ready, prepared for the next fight. I don't want to have trouble next time, you know?" His voice was softer now, the edge of fear and the raw drive for survival a thin veil over his usual composure. The faint tremble in his hand, a residual jitter from the new chrome that he tried to suppress, underscored his words.
Mama Welles looked at him, her expression softening with understanding. She sighed, a deep, weary sound. "Hahh, okay, mijo. I understand. But take a break from the chrome for a while, sí? Your body needs time to adjust." She patted his shoulder, then continued, "You look hungry. I'll make you lunch." She disappeared behind the kitchen door, leaving him with the lingering warmth of her concern. Teo leaned forward, resting his head in his arms on the bar, and sighed, the hum behind his eyes a low, constant companion.
He raised his head again, a new thought overriding his exhaustion. He pulled out his tablet from behind his back, unhooking it from a magnetic clasp with a soft click. His SpecterNet Optics immediately synced with the screen, a low latency display of data flickering into existence.
He navigated through a series of secure browser tabs, eventually landing on a page filled with high performance vehicles, the Arch Nazare. He looked at the listed price, $71,000 eddies. "Sheesh, that's Jackie's ride, right? The fuck," he muttered to himself, a pang of nostalgic aspiration. "I'm going to need more scratch to afford something like that."
He scrolled further into the page, looking at more bikes, weighing cost against performance. Just then, Mama Welles re emerged from behind the kitchen door, carrying a steaming plate of Chili Colorado Burritos with a side of Arroz Rojo, the rich aroma of slow cooked meat and spiced rice filling the air.
As he was about to thank his aunt, a sharp, insistent ringtone cut through the bar's ambient noise, a call coming in through his comm line. Mama Welles glanced at his glowing emerald optics, noting the active comm link, and with a knowing nod, she turned and walked away, giving him space.
He answered the call, his voice shifting back to its usual controlled, street wise tone. "This is Teo."
"Mateo Welles," a smooth baritone, layered with a faint, almost imperceptible digital reverb, responded through his comm. "My name is Silas. I manage... acquisitions. Your recent work, particularly that little spectacle at the Zoo, has come to my attention. Impressive. Efficient. My kind of choom."
Teo didn't reply, just listened, a mental note made of the new fixer's presence on his comm channels. 'word travels quick huh.' he thought taking a bite of his burrito.
"I have a matter requiring your unique skillset. A vehicle. Not just any vehicle, mind you. A custom built Rayfield Caliburn. Black with crimson underglow. A true work of art. It belongs to a rather... particular individual. A mid level Corpo exec by the name of Marcus Thorne, who believes his possessions are extensions of his very soul." Silas paused, the faint reverb making his amusement almost palpable.
"Thorne keeps it in a private, subterranean garage beneath his penthouse in the Azure Plaza, Corpo Plaza. Typical Arasaka tower security, but Thorne's added a few personalized touches. High grade alarm systems on the vehicle itself and within the garage, probably a few remote turrets, and he's paranoid enough to have a basic Netrunner monitoring the local feeds. Nothing you can't handle, I'm told."
Teo's mind was already pulling up data on Azure Plaza, pristine, high security, a far cry from the Badlands.
"My objective is simple, I need that vehicle, pristine, delivered to a secure drop off point in Northside, Watson, within the next 24 standard hours. Don't scratch the paint, Mateo. And no unnecessary fatalities, if you please. Cleanup is always... inconvenient."
Finally, Teo spoke, his voice calm. "Payout?"
"Ten thousand eddies," Silas replied instantly, no hesitation. "On delivery. Clean data, no fuss."
Teo whistled softly, a low note of genuine appreciation. $10,000 for a single car, that was good scratch. "Alright, Silas. You got yourself a deal. Send me the coordinates."
"Excellent. You'll find all necessary schematics and access points for the Azure Plaza garage routed to your systems now. Pleasure doing business with you, Mateo Welles. Try not to cause too much of a stir in the Plaza." The comms clicked off, leaving only the city's hum behind.
As the data packet uploaded, Teo's SpecterNet Optics momentarily flared with a subtle, internal luminescence. For a fraction of a second, he felt that familiar, cold, alien touch, a foreign presence at the very edge of his awareness, a flicker of something vast and ancient observing the incoming data before receding, leaving a faint chill in its wake. He shook his head sharply, trying to clear his mind. The challenge was clear, the payout sweet. Just another day in Night City.
"Alright, what the fuck was that." He muttered running a system diagnostic, the scan ran through his system, the resault... nothing? Ok something is up no more shrugging of the shivers, something is wrong with him, and he can't figure that shit out.
A/N: Funny goofy car theft time!