The girl held a cup of dark red liquid in each hand. Her fair, bare legs swung lightly in the moonlight, and her skin shimmered with a silve
The girl held a cup of dark red liquid in each hand. Her fair, bare legs swung lightly in the moonlight, and her skin shimmered with a silvery glow, making her look like a dark elf bathed in moonlight.
Maine patted Lin Mo on the shoulder and gave it a rough squeeze, grinning to reveal his white teeth.
"Make sure you enjoy yourself tonight. I won't get in your way."
Lin Mo didn't react much. He glanced sideways at Maine and calmly listed off his dinner order.
"Don't think you're off the hook. I've made up my mind. Go grab me some oden—cabbage, meatballs, bean sprouts, tofu skewers, sausage… if there's any meat, bring some slices too. For the main, grab me some noodles. Big portions—I'm starving."
"You're really fixated on squeezing me dry, huh?"
Maine groaned, hands in his pockets as he walked toward the food stall, leaving only a broad back behind.
"Fine, I'll get it for you, big spender."
As he left, he crossed paths with Rebecca. They didn't say much—just exchanged a greeting and continued in opposite directions.
So she wasn't looking for Maine... which means she's probably here for me. Lin Mo calmly watched as Rebecca approached him, holding the two cups.
"Yo, thanks for backing me up at the factory earlier," she said, extending a plastic cup toward Lin Mo.
He accepted it with a smile and didn't hold back. Glancing into the cup, he saw tiny bubbles rising to the surface of the drink.
"This doesn't have alcohol in it, right?" Lin Mo asked after a moment's hesitation.
"What, our stone-cold little killer's scared of a drink?" Rebecca smirked, plopping down beside him.
Lin Mo chuckled softly and looked back toward the stalls.
Maine's large frame was now squeezed in front of the oden stall. His thick fingers pointed at various bubbling ingredients, apparently ordering on Lin Mo's behalf.
Seeing Lin Mo remain quiet, Rebecca didn't mind in the slightest. She gave him a playful slap on the back and said boldly, "Don't worry. If you get drunk, the old man will take you home."
She gestured toward Falco, who was seated nearby. Her voice was clear and girlish, matching her petite frame and delicate, adorable face. If she hadn't mentioned she was an adult, Lin Mo would have assumed she was just a kid.
But on the ride back, Kitagawa had already told him about the specialties of each member of Maine's crew.
This seemingly sweet and fragile girl was described by Kitagawa as a ruthless, bloodthirsty sharpshooter who never missed a headshot...
Frankly, Lin Mo found it hard to match that description with the cheerful girl beside him.
"It's kind of funny. I'm actually allergic to alcohol. If I drink too much, my whole body gets itchy. I try to avoid it when I can," Lin Mo said, handing the cup back to her with a smile.
Rebecca frowned and let out a small sigh, finally saying in defeat, "It's just soda. Drink up."
"Soda, huh? As long as it's not spiked with anything." Lin Mo accepted it and downed it in one go.
He let out a small burp, set the cup aside, and said in slight surprise, "Not bad."
"Of course," Rebecca grinned proudly.
Lin Mo smiled but didn't continue the conversation, instead quietly listening to the distant bustle like a bystander.
Cars rumbled along the road nearby, but the noise didn't dampen the atmosphere in the parking lot. Edge-runners gathered around, chatting about the day's events, occasionally laughing loudly and crudely.
Dorio and Falco sat at the same table, smiling as they watched Pira clowning around.
Sasha, the netrunner, sat quietly at a stall, eating slowly and methodically.
Everything was peaceful. After the intense fighting, everyone was relaxing in their own way.
Rebecca sipped her soda, tilting her head slightly as she curiously observed the boy beside her.
"Did you come to talk to me for a reason?" Lin Mo suddenly asked.
Rebecca tilted her head, glanced at him sideways, and replied, "What, can't I just come over for no reason?"
"No, that's not what I meant. It's just that we haven't really talked much before, so I thought you might've had something to say," Lin Mo replied with a faint smile.
The subtext was clear—they weren't familiar enough for casual chatting yet.
Even if they wanted to chat, Lin Mo didn't know what to talk about. He couldn't very well bring up topics like "100 ways to kill a person" or "how to finish enemies quickly and cleanly."
Rebecca stared at Lin Mo for a while longer before sighing heavily, seemingly annoyed by his absolute lack of social skills.
"You really are no fun. Sitting here like a statue. You don't know how to have a normal conversation," she muttered.
"Hmm… I thought I was being pretty normal." Lin Mo stroked his chin and looked at her. "What about you, Rebecca? Why did you come talk to me?"
"I figured since we'll probably be working together more often, I should get to know you a little."
"That's not the real reason," Lin Mo said bluntly, calling out the lie.
"Tch." Rebecca leaned back against the flowerbed, arms behind her head, clearly annoyed at being exposed. After a pause, she shrugged and said, "Fine. I just thought you were interesting. Not many kids your age can kill without flinching. Plus, you're good at it. Took out so many people."
She glanced at Lin Mo with a teasing smile.
"You're kind of a psycho."
"Is this mutual recognition between two psychos?" Lin Mo chuckled.
If it came down to being a psycho, she was just as unhinged as he was.
"Something like that. I don't really get it either. You're a rich kid—how'd you end up mixed in with people like us? I used to hate your kind," Rebecca muttered.
"I can answer that. Want the truth?" Lin Mo asked with a grin.
"You planning on lying?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow.
Lin Mo looked up at the sky, choosing his words carefully. "I guess… I just like you guys. Plus, you're the only crew I know."
After all, if he was going to call in backup, it made sense to work with familiar faces.
Wakako had recommended Maine's crew, and they'd even met once. All things considered, there was no reason not to choose them.
Rebecca, however, seemed disappointed by the answer. She glanced away and said dryly, "So that's it. I thought you admired our skills."
"Can't really admire your combat skills without seeing them in action. We've only met once. But there's time. I'm sure we'll work together again."
"Let's not talk about that. I'm not in the mood. Let's talk about something else. You like target practice?" she asked, turning to him with interest.
"Target practice?"
"Yeah. Want to hit the range at a gun shop sometime? I'll teach you how to shoot." Rebecca grinned proudly.
"Sure, I'm down," Lin Mo nodded.
Rebecca seemed ready to keep chatting, but her eyes caught sight of Maine approaching, carrying a steaming plastic box with wooden skewers sticking out.
"Guess that's the end of our chat for now. We'll talk next time, Little Lin Mo!"
"I kinda like that nickname," Lin Mo said with a smile.
Rebecca hopped down from the flowerbed and skipped off toward the stall without looking back, waving goodbye as she went. Her mood seemed quite good.
Maine approached with a scowl, shoving the oden box into Lin Mo's hands.
"Here's your damn oden. I'm paying, but I feel like your goddamn delivery boy."
"Thanks," Lin Mo said cheerfully, taking the box and digging in with a pair of disposable chopsticks.
"Have a nice chat?" Maine asked casually.
Lin Mo picked up a fish ball. "Not bad. Didn't talk about much."
"Then let me ask—were we up to your standards tonight, Mr. VIP?" Maine joked.
They'd fought side by side, after all. He figured they were close enough to joke around a bit.
"Good enough. I'll definitely call you guys next time I've got a job. And if you've got something going on, you can call me too," Lin Mo said between bites.
Maine looked at Lin Mo, not taking the second half of that sentence too seriously at first.
But then he thought back to Lin Mo's performance that night—moving like a ghost through the battlefield, cutting down enemies with terrifying precision—and he suddenly grew contemplative.
It was true.
If they had a reliable ally like him, someone who not only had a Sandevistan but wielded it like a damn pro, a lot of their jobs would be much easier.
Speaking of Sandevistans, Maine had once considered getting one himself, but never found a way in.
He had no interest in the basic Tier 1 or 2 versions, and the military-grade Tier 3 model was hard to come by. As a result, no one in his crew had a Sandevistan yet.
He had installed other neural-response systems with similar effects, and they gave him a fighting chance against enemies with speed implants. But still...
"I'll think about it," Maine finally replied.
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