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Chapter 2 - Bulletproof Beauty

I'm back in my apartment.

Shopping spree: complete.

I bought the essentials — jeans, shorts, jogging pants, T-shirts, panties, bras, boots, a nightgown, and enough girly stuff to fill an entire dresser.

Perfume, too. Floral, with a hint of spice. I may be made of chrome and plastic, but damn if I don't want to smell divine.

And yes... I bought a dildo.

What? A girl's gotta unwind.

No way am I letting some sweaty man stick his rod into this expensive, precision-crafted body. But a silicone substitute? That's fair game.

Now, onto the more important purchases:

IRBS — Impact Resistant Body Suit

A sleek, full-body outfit that looks like black leather sprayed on with a paint gun. Made from non-Newtonian material, it remains flexible until struck—then hardens instantly. Perfect for absorbing blunt force. It's my last line of defense.

KFA — Kevlar Fashion Armor

Stylish enough to pass as regular streetwear. Comes in two parts: the jacket and jeans. Bullet-resistant, lightweight, and tailored to fit like a second skin. It'll stop standard rounds from piercing through—but not the force behind them.

Which is why IRBS + KFA = essential combo.

One stops bullets.

The other absorbs the impact.

Because let's face it—my cybernetic body is bottom-tier. Entry-level. Civilian-grade.

Compared to military or battle-class models, I'm basically walking scrap metal in a sexy shell.

Weaknesses?

Armor-Piercing Bullets (APBs): Deadly. KFA and IRBS won't help. If someone's packing AP rounds, I better not get hit.

Blades (especially Katanas): I can survive about twenty slashes from a high-carbon blade before the fabric starts tearing apart.

Solution?

Carry my own katana. Parry or die.

---

Now I'm lounging on my couch, legs elegantly crossed in a soft, silky nightgown.

A thin charging cable is plugged into the USB-C port on my navel, quietly powering up my systems.

I take a sip of my nutrient drink — grape-flavored, with a medicinal kick. Manufactured by Mino Cybernetics specifically for hybrid organs like mine.

I don't need real food.

This drink contains all I need to nourish what's left of my organic tissue. But I can pretend to eat, if I want. Taste simulation is built-in.

Though let's be real—my body turns real food into slush and ejects it later.

Gross.

Speaking of bodily functions:

Yes, I pee.

Not often, but enough to remind me I'm still somewhat human.

Using only my thoughts, I open my internal system menu and bring up some soft ambient music.

Only I can hear it — streaming directly to my mind.

I scroll through the user manual, still trying to learn every quirk of this body.

> "Cyberbrain is integrated with the brain casing..."

"Real brain interfaces with the cyberbrain... Cyberbrain controls the cybernetic body."

Neat.

I search for sleep protocols.

> "Real brain still requires rest. Sleep is recommended."

"During sleep, the cyberbrain enters standby mode. In emergencies, it will temporarily take full control to protect the brain."

So yes, I still need to sleep.

Even in this body, I'm not completely machine.

I unplug the charging cable, the port on my stomach sealing shut with a soft hiss. Then I slip into bed, synthetic sheets brushing against my new skin.

Tomorrow, I go back to bounty hunting.

Back to chasing criminals, dodging bullets, and cashing bounties.

But tonight?

Tonight I rest.

Cybernetic or not, I've earned it.

....

Next day.

I drove through the outskirts of Neoz City, watching its skyline loom through the window.

Neoz — a city of contradictions.

A place where hope shines in neon and despair hides in the shadows beneath.

Eventually, I arrived at the Bounty Hunter's Guild.

I stepped out of the car, already suited up:

IRBS under my clothes — my invisible second skin, built for impact resistance.

KFA jacket and jeans — stylish, but bulletproof.

A short katana sheathed at my left hip.

A standard handgun holstered on my right thigh.

An automatic rifle slung across my back.

I walked through the front doors, and instantly felt the room shift.

Eyes turned. Conversations paused.

I was the only woman here — and the only one dressed like a walking arsenal.

I made my way to a login terminal and scanned my ID.

A guild staffer rushed over almost immediately.

"Hey, lady! Are you sure you're… Jake? This is his account," he said, confused.

"I was Jake," I replied. "Now I'm Jane."

I showed him my updated ID.

> Name: Jane Winchester (formerly Jake W.)

D.O.B.: 2967/04/09

Gender: Female (formerly male)

Special Tag: Cybernetic Body – Class C

The staffer blinked. "You're a cyborg?"

"Yeah. Can you update my profile and unlock the hunt selection?"

I added a polite smile for effect — not flirtatious, just... cooperative.

"S-sure, Jane," he replied, already typing.

With my profile updated, the terminal menu unlocked.

A list of available bounties appeared — sorted into two simple categories:

Wanted Alive

Wanted Dead or Alive

The "Wanted Alive" board was filled with small-timers — pickpockets, fraudsters, bar brawlers.

Low threat, low pay.

But "Dead or Alive" — that was where the real work was.

High-risk criminals. Dangerous modders. Killers.

Bringing them in alive was possible... but difficult. So most bounty hunters settled for "dead."

That's when I saw him:

---

> WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

Name: Rogmus

Crimes: Robbery. Murder. Rape.

Description: Male. Muscular build.

Note: Modded human — cybernetic right arm with enhanced strength.

Reward: 50,000 credits

---

Fifty thousand credits.

Enough to live comfortably for two months without taking another job.

They really want him gone.

I pressed [Apply for Hunt].

A few seconds later: [Hunt Granted]

My inbox pinged with an encrypted email — full bounty details, target history, and last known location.

"Nice," I said quietly.

So, Rogmus was a modders.

Modders — humans with cybernetic enhancements.

Not full cyborgs. Usually about 70% still organic human, with hardware augmentations.

Unlike me.

The only human parts left in me are my brain and spinal cord.

Everything else is machine.

"Let's go find this Rogmus," I muttered to myself. Still solo. No sidekick.

Yet.

I got back in the car and synced the bounty data to my AR display. The city map blinked to life in front of my vision.

Target: locked.

Time to work.

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