"When you've got time, we'll talk more, Miss Lucy. Now that you're part of the crew, you don't need to overthink things. When there's no work, just relax—I'm a pretty good boss, you know."
Lin Mo smiled lightly, resting both hands on the railing. He lifted one hand to wave toward the people downstairs.
Down in the lobby, Maine and the others—looking a bit lost at first—spotted Lin Mo standing on the spiraling staircase and waved back cheerfully, calling out as they made their way up.
"Um…" Lucy seemed like she still had something she wanted to say.
But before she could speak, Lin Mo cut her off with a knowing smile.
"It's dinnertime, Miss Lucy. Whatever it is, we can talk about it later."
And with that, he turned and headed back toward the second floor without looking back.
Lucy watched his retreating figure in silence, then sighed softly.
The banquet was in full swing. With a table piled high with food and all kinds of entertainment available, it was impossible not to have fun.
For mercs who usually roamed the streets and took on one dangerous gig after another, the dishes laid out tonight were on a completely different level—something they'd only ever heard of, never seen.
A fruit platter carved into the shape of a castle; tender, juicy cuts of meat that dripped with fat at every bite; cakes made from real, pure honey.
Even the drinks were special—grain-brewed liquor and freshly pressed fruit juice instead of synth substitutes.
The moment the party began, the energy shot straight to its peak.
Faced with such a feast, nobody wasted time with small talk—chatting instead of eating felt like an insult to the food.
The room overflowed with laughter and warmth.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, they began to relax in their own ways.
The clinking of glasses came from Maine and Jack, who were shouting and laughing as they drank each other under the table. A string of curses and insults rang from the arcade area—David and Pilar were locked in a heated match, each trying to outscore the other.
From the gym section came the rhythmic thuds of fists hitting a sandbag—Dorio, as always, couldn't sit still. Even after eating, she was pounding away at the punching bag, her love for boxing too strong to ignore. No one tried to stop her.
And of course, not everyone was loud.
At the bar counter, Falco and Kiwi were quietly sipping their drinks, chatting easily.
Across from them, dressed like a bartender, Kitagawa Hiro was expertly mixing cocktails for the guests.
Meanwhile, the "girls' section" was just as lively—Rebecca, Sasha, and Lucy sat together on the couches, giggling and gossiping about who knew what.
But judging by the way they kept sneaking glances his way, Lin Mo had a pretty good guess that he was their topic.
He smiled faintly, eating slowly, savoring the food before him. When he finished, he picked up a bottle of liquor and decided against joining the chaos inside.
Outside on the balcony, it was much quieter.
Even though the sounds of laughter and conversation spilled through the glass doors like the chime of bells or distant drums, Lin Mo preferred the night air.
He stepped out beneath the dark velvet sky, holding the bottle loosely in one hand. He wasn't as wary of alcohol as before—he raised the bottle and drank deeply.
"Tonight's… really something rare," he murmured, a hint of a smile curling his lips as he gazed up at the moon and let the sea breeze wash over him.
Night City—a place of freedom, chaos, and sin.
There was still so much to come in this city.
He'd been living as an edgerunner for a while now, and his growth had been nothing short of rapid. Yet this was still only the beginning. He knew it. The road ahead was long, and nights like this—peaceful, celebratory—would only grow rarer.
"Why drink alone out here?"
A hearty laugh cut through his thoughts. Lin Mo turned to see Maine approaching, holding two bottles of liquor.
Like he'd done it a thousand times, Maine handed one over as if offering a cigarette.
Lin Mo didn't refuse. He set his empty bottle aside and accepted the new one.
"Sometimes quiet's nice," he said with a small smile. "The noise belongs to you guys. I've got nothing."
It was a line from an old essay he'd once read, but it fit perfectly now.
Maine chuckled and didn't press further. He leaned against the railing beside him, staring out at the dark river where faint ripples shimmered under the moonlight.
"Thanks for the feast tonight," Maine said with a grin. "Not gonna lie—after eating like that, I could die happy."
"No need for that kind of talk on a good night," Lin Mo replied lightly, glancing at him—then his eyes narrowed.
Even slightly buzzed, he knew he wasn't imagining it.
The hand holding Maine's bottle—the same hand built thick and solid like a damn tree trunk—was trembling faintly, unnaturally.
Maine noticed the look and tried to play it off. His grin stiffened, and he slammed his free fist against the shaking arm, as if trying to "fix" it the old-fashioned way—by hitting it.
It worked, at least for a moment. The trembling stopped.
"Ah, drank too much. Guess I'm even having trouble holding the bottle," he said with a forced laugh.
"How long has this been happening?" Lin Mo asked quietly, not letting it go.
"What're you talking about?" Maine snapped back, feigning ignorance, irritation creeping into his tone.
"Did it start after you got that Sandevistan installed?" Lin Mo pressed, his gaze cold and sharp.
Maine gritted his teeth. The question clearly got under his skin.
He'd heard it before—from fixers, medtechs, random mercs—always the same warnings, the same concern. It was like someone criticizing your habits mid-game or mid-job. Even if they meant well, it grated.
Still, this was Lin Mo's party. Maine owed him respect—and didn't want to ruin the mood.
"I'll handle it," he said finally, exhaling a long breath. "Don't worry about me. Been living like this for years. You're still young, kid—you don't need to think about stuff like this yet."
Lin Mo stared at him, eyes still cool. Then, after a long pause, he said softly:
"That road you're on… it only goes one way—and it ends in hell. Think about that before you go too far."
Maine's face darkened, his eyes narrowing slightly at the words.
Lin Mo sighed, then let a small smile ease the tension.
"But hey—you should be grateful," he added lightly. "You've got a friend who's faster than a peregrine falcon. If you ever go too far, he'll catch up—and kick your ass back to safety."
Maine blinked, then let out a short, rough laugh. "Oh yeah? And what if I'm the one who kicks his ass instead?"
Lin Mo grinned. "Then you can give it a try—when the time comes."
They raised their bottles, the glass clinking softly under the moonlight.
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