So that was it.
Lin Mo focused intently on the streams of flickering information before him. Lines of tiny text scrolled past like neatly arranged data sheets on a computer screen, the collected intel sorted into several sections and displayed across his data panel.
He read for over ten minutes straight before finishing, carefully sifting through the mix of useful and irrelevant details.
Well…
Lin Mo thought as he continued to scroll.
Last night's action had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. It started simply because the simulator displayed an event log, alerting him that someone of unknown identity had been spying on him.
At first, his intent had only been to ask Kitagawa Hiro to identify this gray-white-haired man.
What he hadn't expected was that Hiro would infiltrate the man's home and practically strip the place bare.
Clothes, jewelry, rings, cash, personal firearms, a Moore Technologies combat suit, several fine ornaments…
Lin Mo knew Hiro had looted the place, but he hadn't thought the man—who usually seemed like nothing more than a cold, ruthless gangster—would have a habit of ransacking homes.
Still, the "spoils" were plentiful.
For Lin Mo, however, they were ultimately useless. He made a mental note to tell Hiro next time to just hand such things over to David's mom.
The rest was all information-based intel: the blonde woman's testimony, data from Goodwin's study computer…
With Sasha's summary, Lin Mo now understood the whole chain of cause and effect.
It all went back to that night when he'd killed the cyberpsycho outside Lizzie's Bar. By ruining Moore Technologies' field test of their product, he'd attracted their attention.
"No wonder the simulator showed them sending someone to tail me. They must've been trying to confirm my real identity."
"Luckily I took him out first. With the trail cut, even if Moore wants revenge, they won't find me so easily."
He let out a breath of relief.
"The most valuable thing we got last night," Lin Mo thought, "was probably the live body Hiro dragged back."
After all, any important research data—Goodwin, as a director, wouldn't have been dumb enough to keep it at home. The rest was trivial chat logs and scraps.
At least Hiro was sharp enough to grab Goodwin's secretary.
After what happened last night, that woman, Livia, had nowhere else to go. She would have no choice but to join their crew.
Think about it: her boss invites her out for dinner, and by night's end his house is looted, and he himself assassinated. She, the secretary, somehow survives unscathed.
From any angle, that was suspicious. If she ever showed up near Moore's investigations, the corporate agents would never let her slip away.
So during class today, in between zoning out, Lin Mo had arranged her future role: she would stay quietly in the workshop, assisting David's mother.
After another cursory check of the shard's records, confirming he hadn't missed anything critical, Lin Mo ejected it from his neural port and set it on the table.
The data panel text vanished, and the real world came back into view.
"…Weird. Where'd everyone go?"
The three seats beside him were empty. Just moments ago they'd been filled.
He turned his head, only to find his vision filled with yellow-brown skin and sculpted abs.
Lin Mo rolled his eyes upward, taking in the dark, square face above him, sunglasses perched on it, and a sharp, geometric golden flattop haircut. The man's average-sized head sat absurdly atop a gorilla-like frame, the disproportion creating a comic "tiny-head dad" effect.
"Maine… you here for me?" Lin Mo asked, smiling faintly though confused.
Maine's expression was grim. His already dark skin seemed even darker now, the sunglasses hiding his eyes but not the pressure radiating from him.
Without a word, he dragged out a chair and dropped heavily beside Lin Mo, the scraping sound loud enough to feel like suppressed anger.
Thanks to Maine moving aside, Lin Mo could see the others.
David, face bruised but grinning, sat at a plastic table with Jack and Hiro, food scattered across it. The boy already looked at home, beer in one hand, skewer in the other, chatting away like he'd always belonged.
Sasha and Rebecca were over at a food stall beneath a neon [鉄板焼き] sign. Oil sizzled audibly as the cheerful vendor worked the grill for three women.
Yes—three.
Beside Sasha and Rebecca sat another in a dark red coat—Maine's new netrunner, Qiwei.
Lin Mo didn't know much about her. Tonight was their first real meeting, beyond exchanging names.
What the hell happened while I was jacked into the shard? Lin Mo wondered.
"Done reading yet?" Maine's voice cut through.
Startled, Lin Mo noticed two beers had appeared on the table.
Maine stared silently for a long moment, then sighed with a helpless smile, lips curling upward in something almost paternal.
He lifted his bottle, the liquid inside sloshing. His deep, rough voice followed:
"Not much else to say, Lin Mo. Let's call this a toast to Sasha joining your crew. May your team keep growing stronger."
Lin Mo blinked, dumbfounded. "You know already?"
"Of course I do. Sasha told me everything. Honestly, I never thought you'd pull a stunt like poaching from me."
"When I first heard, yeah, I was pissed. Who'd have guessed you, with those honest brows, would sneak behind my back?"
"But then I thought: if you hadn't saved Sasha that night, she wouldn't even be here today. In Night City, having someone you truly know and trust is rare."
Lin Mo stared, realizing Maine's earlier scowl had been half an act.
"You're not angry?" he asked.
"Do I look like the type? I'm generous. And besides, it's you. Truth is, Lin Mo, both Dorio and I—and the rest of the crew too—we believe you'll build something powerful."
There was no blame in Maine's tone, only sincerity.
He swigged his drink, then offered his own bottle to Lin Mo.
"Tonight, let's drink proper. Rebecca told me you're not allergic anymore. So—cheers, kid. May you go far. At the very least, don't end up worse off than me."
Lin Mo hesitated, then clinked bottles with him.
"Thanks for the blessing."
He tilted back, gulping… and immediately choked, coughing hard.
"The hell, Maine?! You gave me the strongest stuff on purpose, didn't you?!"
He'd expected beer—or fruit wine at worst. Instead, it was liquid fire. His throat and lungs burned all the way down.
Maine just laughed harder. "How was I supposed to know you couldn't handle it?"
Grimacing, Lin Mo shoved the bottle aside and returned to Rebecca's fruit wine instead.
They talked on for a while, though the conversation—two men drinking quietly—soon felt dull. Maine eventually excused himself, heading off to Dorio.
Lin Mo didn't mind. With a partner, he wouldn't want to waste time talking with another guy either.
He sipped his sweet-and-sour wine, watching the lively scene like an audience member at a play. Everyone here was familiar, and the warmth of it softened his mood.
But the calm didn't last. Soon, another familiar figure appeared.
White hair again.
Unlike Sasha's pure silver-white, this hair shimmered with a gradient glow, strands falling by her temples in tinted hues.
Her face was pale as moonlight, adorned with crimson eye shadow. She moved cold and elegant among the food stalls like a moonlit spirit wandering into the mortal world, unnoticed by the crowd.
"…She came tonight too?"
Lin Mo was stunned. It really was like a reunion—every acquaintance of his seemed gathered here. Even Lucy, the outsider netrunner he'd once casually hired for a side job.
Was this restaurant really that magnetic?
Her instincts were sharp.
Barely had Lin Mo's gaze lingered on her before she scanned the lot warily, soon spotting him alone in the corner.
Their eyes met. Lucy's brows furrowed, her look complicated. Then, with quiet steps, she approached.
"Heh. The moment I saw that kid here, I knew you'd be around too."
Her cool voice drifted out, clearly referring to David.
"Mind if I sit?" she asked, pointing to the empty chairs at his table.
"Go ahead." Lin Mo gestured.
"Well, well. Our young master has time to dine in a place like this?" she teased as she sat.
"Call it the workshop's first gathering. I'm not here for the food. If you're jealous, you could always go official. Next time, I'd invite you too." Lin Mo's tone was calm.
"And call me Boss."
Lucy smirked, unfazed. She fished out a cigarette.
"Mind if I smoke, Boss?"
"I don't force my preferences on employees. Smoke if you want. Just a reminder—it's bad for you."
Lucy chuckled. "Still people spouting that crap in 2075? Hilarious." She looked at him a moment longer, then tucked the cigarette away.
Leaning back in his chair, Lin Mo asked evenly: "So. Why are you here tonight?"
"What, I can't be? This place isn't yours."
"If I wanted, it could be," Lin Mo said simply.
"Tch…" Lucy muttered, but then answered properly:
"My place is nearby. I also know people around here. Thought I'd stop by."
Lin Mo arched a brow, remembering her address info from before—it had indeed been near this restaurant.
"…'Know people'? Introduce me?" he asked casually.
"Sure. But don't bother trying to recruit her. She's already got a crew." Lucy turned her head, pointing.
"The woman in the red coat over there."
Lin Mo followed her gaze—and saw Sasha, Rebecca, and Qiwei seated together.
This world really was small.
After all the circles, it always came back to friends of friends.
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MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR
🧠💻 MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR 💻🧠
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