Late night.
Corporate Plaza, Zetatech Tower, a top-floor office.
A palette of burnt orange and charcoal gray set the tone, modern minimalism giving the space a peculiar elegance. The room, bathed in the city's neon like a second daylight, was vivid yet oddly austere.
A faint iris-glow flickered in Xu Wanxue's eyes, then faded a few seconds later.
The gentle warmth on her face drained away, replaced by a slight frown—wariness, doubt.
"That brat calls out of nowhere and tells me not to leave the office tomorrow… what is he pulling?" she murmured, suspicious.
Unexpected as Lin Mo's warning was, the trust forged over the years made her choose to follow it without question.
Even if the sky fell tomorrow, she would not take a single step past the lobby.
Lin Mo wouldn't say something like that for no reason. For him to use that hard, almost vicious tone with his own sister meant he'd foreseen something.
And after a moment's quick deduction, she could more or less guess: whatever was coming tomorrow, it would involve her.
"Honestly… that kid is nothing but trouble," she sighed. Reclining in her chair, she let it spin lazily in place.
Lin Mo's freakishly sharp intuition—almost prophetic at times—had shocked her more than once. He'd predicted and reasoned out many "big events" ahead of time. Thanks to that, she'd navigated Arasaka-land Night City and the Korporate jungle with ease—even if he kept insisting it was all just "guesswork." She wasn't naive enough to buy that.
And because he was her closest family, she'd never pressed him too hard.
Deep down, she'd long had a feeling: one day he would leave her side like a fledgling hawk leaving the nest to claim its own sky. With instincts like his, who would choose a plain life?
So when he told her the truth that night, it didn't surprise her—only that he wanted to be a merc.
Now, she suspected there was still a lot he hadn't told her. Perhaps he'd already built something sizeable out there.
The feeling inside was complicated: pride that her brother had grown up—and the faint loss of a mother watching a child slip beyond her grasp.
After those thoughts circled for a while, she finally exhaled, pushed the feelings aside, and turned her attention to the monitor on her desk.
Zetatech's intranet product portal filled the screen. On the left: a clean three-view render and model of a compact cyberware unit. On the right: its detailed spec sheet.
Product Name: Zetatech Sandevistan Mk.4 ("Timewalker")
Category: Neural Control System – Speedware
Function: Average time-dilation of 75%. A typical user experiences subjective time slowed to 25%.
• Max active duration: 12 s Max cooldown: 15 s
• Three mod slots; compatible with all current aftermarket plug-ins.
• AI-assisted targeting on activation for finer strikes and longer engagements; avg. combat endurance +10%.
Unit Cost: 13,000; MSRP: 40,000 (with a planned drop to 35,000).
Test Results: High physiological burden. Of 500 NDA'd subjects, 435 developed severe adverse reactions after two activations. The remaining 65 showed milder symptoms.
Observed Adverse Effects (non-exhaustive): nausea/vomiting, neural fatigue, mild psychogenic disorders, slowed reaction time, diminished motor control. Subjects with superior baseline reaction profiles displayed better tolerance and lighter symptoms.
Theoretical Breakthrough: With three next-gen thermal dispersers installed, max cooldown can be reduced to ~3 s, theoretically enabling near-continuous time dilation. This would be the most significant advance in speedware to date—humanity flirting with mastery over "time."
Reality Check: Of all subjects, only five could activate more than three times in a single day. One subject, codename "Zhang San," a former corp operative, peaked at five activations.
Sales Recommendation: Market to world-class professionals only. Overall market potential is modest; expected competitiveness is lower than earlier-generation speedware.
…
Wanxue's cool gaze skimmed their latest, most labor-intensive product. When she reached the end, she couldn't help a wry smile.
"Who would've thought? All those all-nighters… just to ship a lemon," she said, half-mocking herself.
For high-tech, single-operator combat gear—no matter the category—tech content and innovation decide the winner.
As a fourth-generation speedware—Zetatech Sandevistan Mk.4—its raw performance crushed anything on the market.
And yet, reality had other plans. The physiological burden was so extreme that projected sales lagged far behind the lower-gen models.
Sure, it would still turn a profit—Zetatech wouldn't lose money on it. The problem was ROI versus expectations; nobody would be popping champagne at launch.
As for downshifting to focus on Gen-3 or Gen-2? Please. Old-guard competitors had been iterating on speedware for years. Even just the Sandevistan Mk.1 had diversified into a dozen variants tailored to niche use cases—"dual-sport enhancement," "fast-draw optimization," boxing speed, typing speed—you name it.
That's how tech evolves: the computer started as a weapon of war; who imagined it in every household?
Sandevistan's the same. A soldier's tool, yes—but the first gen had already branched into all kinds of SKUs beloved by buyers.
The low-end tracks were long since staked out. Pushing in now would burn time and money for meager returns—twice the work, half the pay.
She had hoped that if the Mk.4 exploded in the market, she, as project lead, might bask in the spotlight.
"Shame," she murmured, closing the page and opening her inbox.
Skimming the memo list, she clicked her tongue. "Head Office wants to pursue a fifth-gen speedware? Didn't see that coming."
"'Project: Reality Warp'… catchy name. Wonder what the end result will be." She spoke to the empty room.
After finishing her remaining tasks, she stood to pour herself a coffee—only for a chime to cut through the quiet.
00:00.
Midnight.
She paused, then shrugged and continued at the machine.
A message pinged into her comms.
[Reception] Ms. Xu, you have a visitor waiting in the lounge.
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