I sat on the edge of my bed, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through the bounty board projected into my AR display. The neon-blue UI floated in the air before my eyes, flickering slightly as the guild's database updated.
> "Show me the juicy ones…"
Plenty of small-timers. Petty thieves. A few gang runners. Not worth the time or ammo.
Then I saw him.
> Target: Vaska Rul
Crime: Illegal cybernetic surgery. Organ harvesting. 14 confirmed victims.
Bounty: 65,000 credits.
Status: Dead or Alive.
Note: "Warning — survivor states: 'He moved like smoke. Bullets missed him even at point-blank.'"
I leaned forward.
> "Well, aren't you slippery."
Just as I clicked "Accept Hunt," Harry, my loyal metal hound, barked. A soft electronic beep followed as a message popped up in my HUD.
> [MESSAGE FROM: HARRY]
"Enemy reflex exceeds prior targets. You need better weapons."
I blinked. "Did… my dog just tell me I need to gear up?"
Harry barked again. His tail—a segmented rod tipped with a small LED light—gave a mechanical wag.
"Alright, fine. Let's go shopping."
---
Weapon Shop – The Edge of Neoz City
The air was thick with synth-oil and ozone. My favorite weapon dealer ran shop out of a converted bunker beneath a ramen stall. The stairs down buzzed under my boots as I descended into the world of killing tools and shiny prototypes.
> "Jane Winchester! You still breathing?"
The owner—Krohn, half-scar tissue, half attitude—grinned from behind a glass counter.
"Or should I say… not breathing, considering that new metal body of yours."
"Still got nerves, Krohn," I said, giving him a quick smile. "Need something special. High-speed target. Full modder. Reflexes beyond normal human range."
Krohn tapped a few keys, and a compartment behind him slid open.
> "Then you'll want this."
He handed me a gun—sleek, matte-black, with a short barrel and a flat top. Unusual. No normal magazine, no bullet chamber.
> "CWL-G1. That's Constriction Wire Launcher, Gen 1. Fires a monowire coil—diamond-threaded, self-guided. Wraps around the target and—" he snapped his fingers, "—zaps 'em hard."
"How hard?"
> "Enough to drop a mid-grade cyborg or give a modder a seizure. Shock nodes on both ends. Stun, burn, or loop mode. Entirely silent."
I holstered it on my right thigh. "I'll take it."
"Three coils in the pack," Krohn added. "You miss? Well… don't."
---
Back at Base
I dropped the rest of my gear on the table. Auto-rifle, loaded. Katana, sharpened and synced. CWL-G1, locked and holstered.
Harry was stretched out on the floor, charging. His AI blinked online as soon as I stepped near.
> "Systems green," he beeped.
I opened the bounty packet in full. Vaska's last known location: abandoned cyber-surgery ward, District 7. Quiet. Forgotten. Perfect for a butcher shop.
I slung my rifle, zipped my jacket, and adjusted my gloves.
> "Alright, Harry. Time to go carve up a ghost."
He barked once, a spark flashing across his integrated turret module.
We stepped out into the night. The city lights glowed like fireflies, and my AR map lit the way like a trail of bread crumbs.
---
> "Vaska Rul. Organ thief. Blade dancer. Let's see if your blood still runs when I come knocking."
--------------------
Harry and I arrived at what intel suggests is Vaska's hideout — an old, abandoned, cyber-surgery clinic buried in the decaying edge of District 7. The building looked like it hadn't seen a legal procedure in decades. Its walls were cracked, windows half-boarded, and its neon sign still buzzed with the word "CLINIC," missing a few letters.
We'd parked the car a few blocks away and made our approach quietly, undetected under the cover of twilight.
"Harry, scan the place," I said softly.
> [Command received. Launching scout drone.]
A side compartment on Harry's back clicked open. A small, palm-sized recon drone lifted off silently and zipped toward the derelict building. It entered through a cracked third-story window, its hull adjusting for stealth and thermal masking.
The drone zipped ahead, hugging walls and shadows. It scanned the perimeter, then slipped through a narrow crack in a second-story window.
As soon as it was inside, the drone began its work — pulsing infrared beams and LiDAR bursts, mapping every corner in real time. It hovered through stairwells and hallways like a phantom.
A few moments later, my AR HUD lit up with data:
3D tactical map acquired — structure mapped.
One enhanced target — Vaska Rul, confirmed by body mod scan was on the second floor, while five armed men, each carrying SMGs, patrolled the first floor.
I activated our encrypted intercom with an inner digital command.
> "Harry, the drone can't be everywhere. Redirect it to focus on the first floor and tag all hostiles. We'll eliminate those five first — that should draw Vaska down."
> Understood, Harry replied via text, appearing in the corner of my vision.
> "Live data linked to your combat system," Harry messaged.
"Positioning synchronized."
Red silhouettes outlined the enemies blinked into my AR HUD overlay. Their movements tracked in real time. It was like seeing ghosts through concrete — some sat around idly, others patrolled. They had no idea death was about to knock.
I approached the front of the clinic and crouched near the rusted door. A small, breaching charge explosive slid from my palm and stuck to the lock.
Harry and I backed up slightly. I gave the signal.
> Boom.
The lock popped with a muffled blast, and the door creaked open.
Harry surged in first, turret flaring to life — a controlled storm of bullets tore through the left side of the room.
Two men dropped instantly.
While the remaining draw their attention to Harry, I moved in followed from the right, my rifle trained, firing short, precise bursts. Two targets — all hit clean.
Another tried to raise his weapon — my system marked his head. I fired a blindside burst using the AR's predictive trajectory. Hit confirmed.
Before he spun and crumpled, he managed to squeeze off a few wild shots, but my cyberbrain had already calculated their trajectories. I twisted, rolled, flipped—dodging their fire with fluid, inhuman reflexes.
Then, a blur of motion.
Vaska was there, already in front of me, lunging at me with a surgeon's precision, twin scalpels flashing silver in the dim light trying to reach my neck.
I evade precisely.
Blades in his hands. Scalpel-sharp. He went in for a gut stab.
I parried his second strike with my katana, metal screeching on metal, the clash of steel ringing through the room.
He was fast — faster than most modders I'd encountered — but not faster than me.
He flipped backward mid-swing and came in again, low this time.
My combat mode kicked in.
Evade. Parry. Counter.
I didn't even think — my cyberbrain took over, dodging his movements with acrobatic precision.
Harry opened fire. Vaska twisted his body mid-air, evading with impossible grace, then retreated several meters in a blur of motion.
We paused.
A standoff.
Two versus one.
He studied us. Calculating. And I studied him right back.
> "Didn't expect a pet and a pretty girl to clean house," Vaska said.
"You're not the usual guild scum," he said.
"Nope," I replied.
Harry fired again. Vaska danced between bullets, parrying some with his scalpels like they were extensions of his fingers.
Then he charged — zigzagging erratically, unpredictably, using walls and debris to confuse our targeting systems. But my rifle and Harry's turret kept him pinned in a storm of bullets.
Finally, he lunged upward, aiming to strike me from above with his scalpel blades.
Mistake.
He may have been fast, but not fast enough to escape my fully integrated cyberbrain.
"Combat mode: Execute," I commanded mentally.
I raised the CWL-G1, aimed mid-air, and fired.
> THWIP—ZAP.
The tether wires wrapped around him in mid-air like constricting snakes. The clamp nodes on either end locked tight — then delivered a powerful electric shock through his frame.
He dropped like a puppet with cut strings, convulsing.
Before he could recover, I approached calmly and fired two shots into his cybernetic arm and leg. Metal and blood sprayed across the broken tiles.
I linked into the Bounty Hunter Guild system.
> Target: Vaska Rul — Status: Alive, Immobilized.
Select: [Hunt Complete]
The confirmation ringed back within minutes.
Three bounty drones descended from above like chrome vultures. One calmly fired a paralytic dart into Vaska's neck. He slumped completely limp.
They scanned Vaska's body, and confirmed the capture.
> "Target secured. Containment team arriving shortly. Stand by."
We waited.
Minutes later, a secure transport arrived. Agents in matte-black armor loaded Vaska into a reinforced coffin of a container sealed it with several biometric locks.
The drones followed them, lifting off into the night sky.
A soft chime lit up in my HUD:
> [NEOZ CITY BANK – Deposit Received]
+65,000 credits – Vaska Rul Bounty
I flicked open my account screen.
> Total Balance: 105,841 credits
I turned to Harry. "We should buy more ammo tomorrow. Maybe a few grenades."
> Agreed, his message flashed.
I smiled. "What do you want as your reward?"
> A video game.
I chuckled. "You like playing, huh?"
> Yes I do.
"Alright, video game it is."
We turned from the wreckage and walked away under the flickering buzz of the city lights.