As a seasoned netrunner, Sasha's expertise needed no introduction. In her "introductory course" on hacking fundamentals, she explained every
As a seasoned netrunner, Sasha's expertise needed no introduction.
In her "introductory course" on hacking fundamentals, she explained everything to Lin Mo in a way that was both accessible and insightful, turning complex knowledge into easily digestible information. Lin Mo learned a great deal.
He also came to understand one key thing—hacking as portrayed in games couldn't be applied directly to the now-real cyberpunk world.
Even without Sasha's guidance, he could've guessed as much. After all, game mechanics are no match for the intricacy and unpredictability of reality.
Still, many foundational principles carried over—like RAM, network access ports, and quickhacks. These concepts, though adapted, remained largely intact.
In the real world, netrunners needed to adapt their infiltration strategies depending on the type of enemy.
Quickhacks, as a brute-force, one-click offensive method, aimed to breach a target using the simplest and most effective route.
The actual "method" varied from hacker to hacker.
Some crashed ICE barriers like a battering ram, while others slipped stealthily past defenses.
The method used affected RAM consumption—more skilled hackers had more efficient methods, consuming less RAM.
At this point, Lin Mo couldn't help but recall the concept of "Intelligence" as an attribute.
The more skilled the hacker—in other words, the higher the Intelligence stat—the less RAM was consumed per hack. It mirrored game logic surprisingly well.
"Alright," Sasha said softly, seated with elegance, her posture accentuating the alluring lines of her figure, like a pampered Siamese cat. "What else do you want to ask?"
Lin Mo straightened up seriously, like a model student. Raising his hand, he asked, "Teacher, I want to know—what exactly is Self-ICE?"
Back when Sasha tried hacking into Bruto's neural processor, she'd been blocked by something called Self-ICE.
Lin Mo knew Self-ICE was a cyberware mod in the game, but what exactly was its principle in the real world?
Seeing him act like an obedient student, Sasha couldn't help but smile. She rested her elbow on the armrest, fingers lightly against her temple, and looked at him gently.
"Self-ICE, short for Self-Integrated Countermeasure Electronics, is a cyberware implant located in the prefrontal cortex—right next to the user's neural processor."
"Its function is simple. It's a compact mechanical module embedded with multiple ICE systems. It protects all of the user's cyberware across their body."
She paused, her chin in hand as she looked into Lin Mo's eyes with a trace of regret.
"If it were just a few extra layers of ICE, it wouldn't be a big deal—just a tougher shell. But what makes Self-ICE brilliant is its ability to swap ICE networks on the fly."
"When a hacker attempts a quickhack, Self-ICE instantly swaps out the user's defensive network, nullifying that specific attack."
Lin Mo's eyes lit up as he pieced it together.
"So it's like a rotating gate. The hacker tries to breach it, and the system swaps in another gate just in time, making the attack useless?"
"Exactly," Sasha nodded, smiling approvingly.
"That's the most annoying part of Self-ICE. It switches ICE the moment an intrusion is detected. Unless the hacker breaches during the short switching window, the user is immune to the quickhack."
"Once that attack is nullified, can the hacker still use another daemon?" Lin Mo asked.
From earlier, he'd learned that each quickhack—whether it succeeded or failed—would enter a cooldown, requiring the netrunner's port to reconstruct the daemon before it could be used again.
Meaning, if an attack failed, unless the cooldown ended, the hacker would need another type of quickhack to continue.
Sasha twirled the end of her black hair and thought for a moment. "Yes, but that only works if the hacker has multiple quickhack modules. And that's easier said than done."
Lin Mo frowned slightly, puzzled.
Why did she make it sound like quickhack modules were rare?
Back in the game, he remembered most daemons were easy to get—as long as your Intelligence was high enough and you'd unlocked the relevant perks, you could just craft them.
Worst case, you could buy them in a netrunner shop.
Seeing the confusion on his face, Sasha smiled knowingly and said:
"Maybe you've misunderstood something. For real netrunners, quickhacks are our trump cards. Do you think people just hand those out like candy?"
Lin Mo nodded slowly. "Right, they wouldn't be exposed so casually."
Sasha's smile grew wider as she propped her chin on her hand and looked at him intently.
Every time she smiled genuinely, her eyes curved with amusement, revealing soft pink eyeshadow and lashes that framed them perfectly.
"Let me ask you something," she said, playfully taking on the tone of a teacher. "Quickhacks are physical instantiations of daemon programs, loaded into our access ports. If a hacker can't make them personally, how else do you think they can acquire them?"
Lin Mo thought hard, searching his memory for the answer.
Finally, with a hesitant and slightly awkward look, he guessed, "Buy them on the black market?"
Sasha blinked—once, twice, three times—clearly not expecting that answer.
She sighed and shook her head. "You rich kids really think everything can be bought with money? Buying shady hacker gear off the black market—aren't you worried about viruses? And real quality wares? You're not going to find them so easily."
Seeing his innocent look, she decided not to tease him too hard and continued explaining.
"In Night City, any self-taught netrunner will inevitably walk the same path—into the Net. Into cyberspace."
Lin Mo raised an eyebrow.
Now that was something he actually knew a little about.
After spending a good amount of time in this world, he had a basic understanding of cyberspace.
Beyond traditional access points like terminals, computers, or personal connection cables, there was another path for netrunners.
With a special neural port and custom goggles, a netrunner could directly perceive and connect to the 3D network interface known as the Net.
But this visual experience came with a price—enormous data transfer rates.
Anyone without proper training could suffer neural overload in seconds, their body temperature spiking, cooking their own brain from the inside out.
Even trained netrunners needed external assistance to survive in cyberspace.
One common method? An old-school tub filled with ice—cheap, practical, and life-saving.
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