The iron gate of the basement rattled as it slid open, the sound sharp against the dim, reddish glow of the underground room.
A rugged-faced man sat calmly in a chair, his gaze fixed on a small television.
The screen showed yet another boxing match. The middle-aged tough, now well past his prime, had always loved these bouts—years ago, he himself had been in the ring, drenched in sweat, earning glory with his fists.
The older you get, the more you dwell on the past.
Lin Mo understood that feeling. Even back on Blue Star, people clung to old games, outdated graphics and mechanics be damned. Nostalgia always had its hold.
The noise of the door caught the man's attention. He turned, the coffee-tinted glasses still hiding his eyes, but his expression brightened when he saw Lin Mo.
"Well, look who it is. What brings you here, kid? Things not going well at Afterlife? You've sure been taking your time to visit an old man like me."
Viktor smiled warmly, shifting his chair to face the boy who had just walked in.
Of course he'd heard about Lin Mo's recent exploits.
After all, he'd been the one to personally install his Sandevistan. Helping raise a merc sharp enough to step foot in Afterlife—that was a point of pride.
"Mostly I've just been tied up," Lin Mo shrugged helplessly as he perched casually on Viktor's desk. "Too much happening at once. And you know, Uncle Vik, I'm still technically a student. I still have to show up for classes."
Viktor chuckled, clearly unconvinced.
"Is that so? Hard to believe someone who's already running with the big dogs at Afterlife is worried about a class schedule."
He tapped a finger toward Lin Mo's back, smiling.
"I might be old, but I haven't forgotten the day you begged me to slot that speedware and a Kerenzikov. You pushed through the side effects without blinking. And now you expect me to believe school rules can rein in a top-tier merc?"
Lin Mo gave a bitter laugh.
"Don't tease me, Uncle Vik. I only just set foot in Afterlife. I'm no 'top-tier merc.'"
He hadn't told Vik or Misty about his other identity. Only his own crew, along with Maine's gang, knew the truth. Wakako had her suspicions, but no proof—not yet. Still, with her network, she probably had already guessed.
A little camouflage, a fake face, a decoy identity—sometimes that was all it took to keep prying eyes at bay.
And in Night City, unless you'd gone and killed Saburo Arasaka himself, even the corps had a hard time tracking you down.
Viktor just smiled at Lin Mo's modesty. He didn't press.
"So, tell me—what brings you here today?"
"I brought a friend. He wants to get some chrome, and I'd also like you to run a maintenance check on my Sandevistan." Lin Mo kept it brief.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Didn't think you'd be out there drumming up business for an old ripper like me… But sure, I'll check your ware. Only one thing—have you been taking the meds I prescribed?"
"Of course. When have I ever ignored Uncle Vik's advice?" Lin Mo answered with a playful smile, all innocence.
"Heh. If you really listened, you never would've installed that chrome in the first place. But that Japanese guy was right—you've got your own ideas, and I can't stop you. Kids these days… we old-timers just don't get it."
Viktor's shoulders slumped slightly, his tone tinged with nostalgia.
Who could have guessed?
Barely after installing the speedware, the kid had skyrocketed—fame spreading across the streets like wildfire. Even Jackie, whom Viktor had held in such high regard, seemed far behind in comparison.
"Well, as long as you've been taking your meds… Any discomfort? Dizziness, nausea?"
"None. If anything, I feel more comfortable with the Sandevistan every time I use it."
That much was true. Apart from the first time—when he'd nearly collapsed after pushing it too far—he hadn't suffered any negative effects.
Maybe it was his stats. With a Reaction of 15, his body was built for this. Maybe he was simply born for it.
"Good. Lie down on the bed. I'll run a quick tune-up."
Viktor flexed his chrome hand, swapped out the vial in his pneumatic injector, and readied the neuro-boosters. The maintenance procedure began smoothly.
Everything was routine—until he pulled up Lin Mo's usage logs.
"What the… unbelievable. Kid, how the hell are you doing this!? How can you use the Sandevistan this many times in a single day?"
For once, Viktor looked shaken. The man who was usually unflappable now stared at Lin Mo like he was a freak of nature.
Maintenance meant reviewing every data log: activations, cooldowns, body strain. And the screen laid it all out in plain numbers.
"I… honestly don't know," Lin Mo said evasively.
Viktor's eyes narrowed at the data. He exhaled heavily, muttering like he was seeing the impossible.
"Anyone else would've wrecked themselves by now. Their body would've collapsed. But you? Nothing. Not a scratch. Lin Mo, don't lie to me—are you sure you feel absolutely no side effects?"
"Absolutely none. I'd never gamble with my own body," Lin Mo said firmly.
Viktor searched his face, waiting for a flicker of deception. But Lin Mo's vitals were all clean, every metric perfectly within range.
At last, Viktor had to accept it.
"…Then you really were made for this chrome." He shook his head in disbelief. "I've slotted chrome into a lot of people, but I've never seen anything like this. The only ones who could push their Sandevistan like you are the cyberpsychos you see on the news."
His hands moved steadily as he finished the tune-up, though his voice carried uncharacteristic awe.
"No wonder you've already carved a spot at Afterlife. With talent like this… kid, you've got the potential to become a legend."
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MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR
🧠💻 MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR 💻🧠
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