The exact word count is 8,090. Two of you answered 8,000, which I'm accepting. Here's the promised bonus chapter. Well played, Obyren and RagingDrake!
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"V, can you fucking be reliable for once?"
Mercer looked exasperatedly at the disheveled V on the video call.
V responded weakly, "Huh? I'm fine, totally fine... Ugh..."
Kiwi's voice chimed in helplessly from behind V in the video frame, where she was patting V's back:
"A, she came back yesterday all excited, downed a whole bottle of whiskey by herself, and then threw up like there was no tomorrow.
Honestly, you should just let her sleep it off a bit longer."
Mercer rolled his eyes. "That's your alcohol tolerance? Pretty weak. If you're this bad, maybe just don't drink from now on."
"Hey, that stuff was strong, okay?" V's currently soft, groggy voice sounded unexpectedly gentle and pleasant.
Too bad you don't usually get to hear V speak in this tone.
"Alright, stop being stubborn in this state. I'll assign the job to Rebecca. You go sober up properly."
As soon as Mercer finished, V panicked.
She immediately straightened up. "No! A, really, it's fine! I'll just puke a few more times, drink some water, and I'll be good!"
"You knew there was a job this morning and still drank too much. Consider this a lesson. You're off duty today." Mercer said bluntly, giving her no room to argue.
Knowing she was in the wrong, V could only pull a bitter face. She wanted to say something, but another wave of hangover nausea hit her, and she dry-heaved.
"Hanging up."
Mercer ended the call directly but sent a message to Kiwi.
[Mercer: Take care of her a bit. Thanks for the trouble.]
[Kiwi: It's fine. I'm freeloading here; this is nothing.]
[Mercer: I pay her, so it's not freeloading. Feel free to boss her around. But I haven't found a job suited for you recently; you'll have to wait a bit longer.]
[Kiwi: I'm in no rush. I still need a few days to study those materials you sent me.]
[Mercer: I compiled them myself. Some parts might have big jumps in difficulty. Just ask me if you don't understand.]
[Kiwi: Okay... I feel like every time I talk to you, I end up having to say thank you.]
[Mercer: That's a good thing. The old you would probably just suspect I had ulterior motives.]
[Kiwi: You're a truly good person, Mercer. Almost unrealistically good.]
[Mercer: The reality is you can always trust me, and I can trust you too, right?]
[Kiwi: I think, if it's you, then yes.]
[Mercer: Ha~ I'm honored.]
[Kiwi: I'm the lucky one.]
[Mercer: XD~]
Mercer replied with a smiling emoji, then unceremoniously made a video call to Rebecca.
"Good morning~" Rebecca's high-pitched, cutesy voice was a real wake-up call, the kind that gives you goosebumps.
Early in the morning, her outfit in the video was rather revealing, making Mercer unconsciously avert his gaze a little.
But the video was projected directly into his cybereye, so there was no escaping it...
Mercer could only reluctantly take in her petite yet well-proportioned figure.
"Where did you learn that weird tone? Does Pilar ever hear you talk like this?" Mercer said, exasperated.
"Aww, I only talk like this with you~ Calling me so early, did you miss me?" Rebecca giggled, even blowing him a flirtatious kiss in the video.
Mercer just let out an annoyed sigh. "Got a simple job for you. Take it or not?"
"Take it, take it! What is it? How much?" Rebecca immediately straightened up, her tone rising with excitement.
"Yesterday, I wrote a program for El Capitán in Santo Domingo. He tested it himself and thought it worked great, so he plans to "acquire" a batch of used cars to make some cash before the auto companies update their systems.
He wanted to hand the job to me first, as a favor, since it's one of those rare gigs that's easy and pays well.
Considering I'll need some vehicles for team operations later, even though the pay isn't huge, I agreed, especially since he's throwing in discount coupons for car purchases.
For the cars you steal, El Capitán will pay 60% of their secondhand market value. So, you know, when you get there, pick the good ones."
After Mercer finished, Rebecca let out an excited whoop. "I'm in! Mercer, just leave it to me and Pilar!"
Mercer chuckled. "I've sent you and Pilar a Penguin software, it's my own encrypted communication system.
If you run into any problems, open the comms app and message me. I'll monitor your situation through it right away.
Also, I've optimized and updated the software so I can temporarily connect to your cybereye signal and share the feed. Your neural link will pop up an authorization agreement, just hit accept.
Remember, stay sharp. You're representing my Kindling Squad out there. Don't make me lose face with El Capitán, Rebecca."
Rebecca thumped her chest confidently. "You can count on me!"
Mercer watched her with an appreciative gaze for a moment, then nodded. "I know you'll head out to Santo Domingo right away. El Capitán will wait for you to contact him when you arrive to pick up the device that can crack the vehicle systems.
The list of cars to steal is with him too. Just go for the expensive ones. I won't take a cut of what you earn this time, but 20% will go into the team's shared fund.
Since you're taking this side job using the reputation I've built for the team, that money will cover team expenses, base rent, team vehicles, equipment, things like that."
"Aw, come on! I trust you. Whatever you say, 20% is fine by me." Rebecca grinned, then turned and kicked what was probably Pilar lying on the couch.
"Pilar! We've got work! Get up and get ready, now!"
As she kicked, she grumbled in frustration, "You useless older brother. I swear, when will you ever get your act together?"
Mercer couldn't help but smile at the scene, though he quickly added, "Go on. Remember to stop by a gun shop on the way and gear up properly. Look professional.
I'll advance you 10,000 eurodollars; I'll deduct it from your pay later.
My advice is to get to El Capitán as soon as possible. He has other mercs he works with too. If you're late, the good cars might get snatched up by others."
"Holy shit, Mercer, you..." Rebecca was speechless, could only give Mercer a thumbs-up, her eyes practically shooting out little stars: "Mercer! I love you!"
"Hah, alright, go on. I'll hang up now, contact me if anything comes up."
Mercer ended the call and removed the mask from his face.
For the short term, he decided to maintain a bit of mystery, once everyone got a little more familiar, he'd take it off and give them a nice little surprise.
Meanwhile, Lucy, who had been waiting nearby for him to finish the call, looked at him somewhat resentfully: "So, my records really can't be changed anymore?"
"Nope. What if someone notices if we keep altering the data? The virus I left there is still useful, can't risk it being discovered."
Mercer grinned at her.
"And you just openly changed your registered age to eighteen? Look at your face, Mercer, since when do you look eighteen?"
Lucy grumbled indignantly.
"Didn't you set your own age in the Night City files as sixteen? Pot calling the kettle black! You're the one who said you wanted to fill it in yourself, no take-backs!"
Mercer laughed heartily while Lucy sulked.
Yes, from today onward, Mercer was officially an eighteen-year-old citizen of Night City.
Born in Santo Domingo, orphaned at a young age, no educational background, no tax records, the classic résumé of a Santo Domingo orphan.
Mercer hadn't just made up his records randomly. Everything, from his place of birth to his parents' identities, had been carefully selected to be nearly impossible to verify.
His parents were immigrants, confirmed dead by the NCPD a decade ago, and they did indeed have a biological son.
But that eight-year-old child had quickly been declared "missing" after his parents' deaths.
In all likelihood, that kid was long dead. In Night City, going missing meant you didn't even get to keep your body, chances were, you ended up as spare parts.
What Mercer had done was replace that missing child's household registration, the one with a father from Texas and a mother of Eastern descent, with his new name.
Lucy and the others had chosen similar backgrounds for their files. It just went to show how many orphans in Night City had been declared missing.
But though Lucy had entertained the idea of "aging up," she'd only dared to secretly set her age to sixteen.
Mercer, on the other hand, was much bolder.
If he said he was eighteen, then he was eighteen.
And that was exactly why Lucy was so frustrated, she'd thought she could finally play the role of Mercer's "big sister" openly.
Now, it was set in stone: she was the little sister.
And if she'd known this was an option, she would've set her age to eighteen too. Then Mercer wouldn't be able to use "she's still a minor" as an excuse to brush her off.
Mercer hummed a tune and picked up the car keys: "Let's go. I need to apply for a new account at the Eurobank, and then I can get myself a CredChip. From now on, we can all save and spend money out in the open."
"The EuroBank doesn't play by Arasaka or Militech's rules. Even if we blew up Arasaka, they wouldn't touch a single eurodollar in our accounts."
Lucy was still sulking, only managing an "Mhm." "Can't you just do it online? Why go in person?"
"Don't you want to move into our new place?"
Mercer turned his head and smiled at her. Lucy perked up immediately, "You found a place?"
"Nope~ But I figure renting a place is a small matter for our Mr. Hands here in Pacifica."
After Mercer finished, Lucy looked concerned, "You mean have him find it for us? Didn't you say he's not very reliable?"
"He's dangerous. Dangerous and unreliable are two different things."
Mercer paused, then continued, "But there's no other way. Dogtown is only so big. No matter where we rent, we can't avoid prying eyes.
What we need isn't just some rundown shack to sleep in, but a covert, secure base for our team.
We'll be coming and going through Barghest-controlled checkpoints, and it'll be hard to hide our equipment and transport vehicles from everyone.
Not to mention we need to turn it into a production site to run some profitable operations.
With that much activity, there's no way to hide from anyone who really wants to look into us.
So, to survive in Dogtown, we have to pick a side.
Either it's the boss of Dogtown, Colonel Hansen, or our ambitious fixer trying to put down roots here, Mr. Hands."
Lucy asked curiously, "Why not choose Hansen? He's the one controlling Dogtown now. If we're picking a patron, shouldn't we go with the stronger one?"
"Because he's too greedy."
Mercer's face showed disgust. "His ambitions are too big, but his skills aren't up to par. He thinks that with Militech backing him and connections to many corps, he can really declare himself king.
Don't be fooled by how prosperous he's made Dogtown look now, all the major corps, even European and Eastern companies, are using it for large-scale smuggling and deals directly.
Politicians in Night City are all kept happy by him too...
But that's only because everyone needs a thriving Dogtown, not an ambitious Hansen."
Mercer patiently explained the key point to Lucy: "If one day Hansen thinks his wings are strong enough and tries to act like the real boss of Dogtown, seeking greater power to play in higher-stakes games...
What awaits him is only death.
No one wants a Dogtown rigidly controlled, trying to be fully independent. Everyone just needs a free zone where business can be done openly.
It's similar to Night City's original idea, all the corps came here to make money without restraints. Who wants to be governed by some damn Hansen? Follow his rules?"
"The reason the New United States keeps him around is that Militech and the NUSA still need a bridgehead to infiltrate Night City. If war breaks out again, Dogtown will be their launching point for an attack on Night City.
Dogtown and he are just a nail the NUSA and Militech have driven into Night City.
That idiot Hansen really thinks he's tough enough that the NUSA doesn't dare touch him and Militech is just humoring him."
After finishing, Mercer said seriously, "So we absolutely cannot work for Hansen, because once he discovers my true capabilities...
My fate would be the same as the New United States' Songbird.
You might have heard of her? A netrunner who was a big deal in the NUSA back in the '50s, until NetWatch took notice and the NUSA sent agents to recruit her before things got messy."
She had now become a pawn of the new U.S. President, forced to risk her life and even transformed into a cybernuclear bomb.
"My skills far surpass Songbird's. If that idiot Hansen ever realizes how capable I am, he might start scheming against me. I have no intention of being his dog, let alone a controlled cybernuclear bomb."
After Mercer finished speaking, Lucy nodded in sudden understanding, gaining deeper insight into the situation in Dogtown.
Seeing her comprehension, Mercer smiled and said,
"So, we choose Mr. Hands. Don't be fooled by his limited influence in Dogtown right now, backed by the Cuban crime syndicate, he's someone Hansen absolutely doesn't want to provoke lightly.
With his protection, no reckless Barghest thugs will come causing trouble for us in Dogtown.
In return, we can handle some small jobs for Mr. Hands, securing a patron to help us establish roots here.
Once we no longer need to lay low and develop quietly in Dogtown, we can openly leave and pick a prime spot in Night City to build our own mansion.
When that time comes, Mr. Hands can go find somewhere else to cool off."
Mercer finished by patting Lucy's head. Meeting her displeased gaze, he smiled and said, "Trust my judgment, Lucy."
"I never said I didn't," Lucy replied, turning her head away. "Go ahead. It's not like I can help you much anyway."
"Oh, but you can, Lucy. I have a job for you."
Mercer flashed a mysterious smile.
Lucy visibly perked up. "What is it?"
"Raise a child for me," Mercer said casually.
"...Huh?"
Lucy stood frozen in place.
After transferring the Morning Star AI to Lucy and instructing her to strictly monitor whether it was learning online according to his settings, Mercer set off lightly equipped, driving away.
First, he visited a EuroBank to open an account and purchase a personal chip.
This type of personal chip functioned like a specially encrypted USB drive, with pure data storage capabilities. It could hold digital currency, diaries, call logs, and other miscellaneous data.
Normally, these were installed alongside a neural link, an essential part of daily life for ordinary people. But since Mercer had a cyberdeck installed and a Relic chip plugged into his skull, he had never gotten around to adding this chip.
Typically, people had two chipware sockets at the back of their necks for inserting chips.
With the Relic occupying one port and the storage chip taking the other, Mercer would have no slots left.
Still, he decided to install it.
It was too painful to kill someone and walk away empty-handed, unable to claim any rewards.
Now, with the storage chip, he could directly transfer funds from the target's CredChip.
This digital currency used unique authentication encryption. As long as you had a chip with an activated CredChip, you could freely transfer funds via data transmission, incredibly convenient.
Moreover, virtual currency data was stored locally and didn't pass directly through bank accounts, making it ideal for private transactions. To deposit it into a bank, you simply had to transfer the data online. Moreover, this thing essentially gave Mercer an extra storage drive for his brain, saving a lot of data files that would otherwise clutter his cyberdeck and neural link, freeing up more program execution space in his cyberdeck.
As for what to do when all the brain chip slots are taken?
Mercer had his own clever solution.
Without a second thought, he made a call.
The agent rang for a while before it was answered.
Vik's burly figure was bent over, busy with something.
"Mercer, what's up?"
"I'm bringing someone over this afternoon. Is that Sandevistan fixed? I want to install it for her."
After Mercer spoke, Vik looked up from the video call: "I'm working on it right now, but it should be ready by this afternoon. How have you been feeling lately? Any discomfort?"
"To be honest, I've barely used any meds. Just took an anti-inflammatory once on the first night before bed, just in case."
Mercer was in his car during the call, with no one else around, so he wasn't wearing his mask. Vik could see he looked rosy-cheeked and full of energy, if he wasn't on any drugs, that was a good sign.
"Seems your body's tolerance is far better than I estimated. Good, Mercer, it looks like you really have the potential to install more. How about mentally? Any signs of sensitivity or irritability? Especially if you experience things like mental fog, memory loss, frequent dreaming, sudden excitement, or zoning out often, you'd need to start watching out for Cyberpsychosis."
Vik continued questioning.
"Don't worry, everything's OK."
Mercer gave a thumbs-up: "The first thing I do every morning when I wake up is run a simple cognitive test on myself and save the data for comparison."
"That's really good. How did you come up with that?" Viktor grew interested, suddenly sounding pleased. "I should recommend your method to my clients."
Mercer chuckled: "Just playing it safe, Vik. You know there's always been rumors online that corps can influence human thoughts. I'm just afraid of falling victim without noticing, so I check every day to make sure my mind hasn't been subtly tampered with."
"You think those aren't just rumors?" Viktor frowned slightly.
"From what I know, some corps have already applied similar tech in real operations." Mercer's words carried startling implications.
Viktor fell silent for a moment, then sighed: "There were similar claims decades ago. So it's finally come to this. Guess I should learn from you too?"
"Better safe than sorry. Regularly running a cognitive test can also double as a self-psychological evaluation. If the results aren't good, just give yourself a break."
Mercer said with a smile: "But don't worry too much. That tech isn't widely applicable yet."
Yet, Mercer remained deeply wary of this technology, in the game, Night Corp possessed such tech and had covertly hacked a city councilor's mind, turning him into a completely different person without anyone noticing.
In terms of tampering with human consciousness, one could say Night Corp was even ahead of Arasaka. "That's really bad news. Thanks, I suppose this is another secret that can't be casually shared. Listen, Mercer, you really ought to be a bit more guarded around me too."
Viktor advised the young man who was inexplicably open with him.
"Vik, I wouldn't tell anyone my real secrets, but it's true that I don't have much guard up around you. It's not because I'm foolish; it's because I know I actually have no way of defending against you."
Mercer spoke earnestly, "Think about it, you're my ripperdoc. How could I possibly hide the unusual aspects of my body from my own doc?
My cyberware, if laid out, any competent doc would recognize it's anything but ordinary.
If a doct can't even identify what kind of cyberware I have, I wouldn't dare let someone like that operate on me or make modifications to my implants.
And then there's my physiological data, my tolerance for cyberware, details that might seem trivial to most people, but for me, they're a major liability.
Every corp is hunting for a durable 'test subject,' and as you can see, by any measure, my body is a born 'ideal test subject.'
If Biotechnica got their hands on my data, they'd probably want to dissect and clone me dozens of times over.
So whether I trust you or not, you're bound to find out plenty of unusual things about me eventually. That's why, rather than just relying on your medical ethics to keep my secrets, I'd much rather genuinely befriend you.
I don't think you're the type to betray a friend.
The way I see it, from the moment I chose to come to you, there were only two possible outcomes: either we become true, close friends, the kind where I'd entrust my life to you on the operating table, or you sell me out. In that case, whether I say anything or not wouldn't matter, because someone intent on betrayal will always find a way to stab you in the back.
After all, I can't exactly hire a doc, have them operate on me, and then just... eliminate them or wipe their memory, can I?"
Vik listened patiently, then finally sighed, shook his head, and offered a gentle smile. "Seems you're more mature than I thought. Understood, A. We're friends.
Though I have to say, given your face, it feels a bit strange calling you a friend. But being trusted... it's not a bad feeling.
Maybe that's why I chose to run my own clinic instead of working for a corp.
Anyway, you're right, A. I'll keep my patient's secrets. Anyone who wants to know about you will have to pry them from my brain with a knife first."
Mercer smiled as well. "I know, Vik. That's exactly why, from the very start, I never considered pretending or being superficial with you.
Even from a purely self-interested standpoint, I'd have to treat you well. Luckily, you're also the kind of person I genuinely like, no need for fake pleasantries."
"Alright, since you're bringing a friend over this afternoon, I'd better hurry up and fix your Sandevistan. How's your friend's physical condition? Can they handle it?"
Viktor asked with concern, "This Sandevistan is extremely high-grade, much more powerful than standard market models. I ran some tests on its programming, at maximum overclock, it can slow time by up to 68%.
That kind of output, plus the fact we have to bypass its built-in safety protocols to even use it, puts a huge strain on the nervous system. It demands exceptionally high physical fitness.
An average person would even need a Synaptic Accelerator just to keep their mind and body in sync with a Sandevistan of this caliber." "Don't worry, if I'm a genius in intellect, she's a born prodigy with a physique that could surpass even Adam Smasher's level of physical prowess."
Mercer was hyping up V.
Viktor clicked his tongue in amazement, his eyebrows raised: "Really? Alright, I'll run some tests this afternoon and we'll see."
"No problem." Mercer smiled and agreed on the time, then headed straight for Corpo Plaza.
Before, without legal identification, he had needed Panam to accompany him to make purchases, but now he could shop openly on his own.
This time, Mercer was shopping for drones, so he stepped into the Militech store without hesitation.
"Welcome to Militech!"
The clerk inside didn't bat an eye at Mercer's masked appearance, in an era where silver-plating your entire face was considered trendy, wearing a mask was no big deal.
"I need drones."
Mercer got straight to the point: "The reason I didn't order online is that the models sold there are all civilian versions."
"I'm sorry, but according to Night City law, we are only permitted to sell legal home defense drones and home nanny drones."
The well-dressed clerk spoke with a regretful expression.
"I know, but what I wanted to ask is... I heard you sell some accessories here that aren't available for direct online purchase?"
Mercer responded meaningfully: "Like larger battery options, for instance?"
The clerk broke into a bright smile: "Yes, we have newer, better lithium batteries that can support a 40KG drone flying continuously for eight hours without charging.
Even under an 80KG load, it guarantees three hours of full-performance operation.
Besides that, we also sell some other accessories, which you can choose to equip as you like."
Mercer nodded: "Good, I need two home nanny drones, along with two of the new compatible batteries, carrying capacity modules, and the camera with built-in thermal scanning and anti-interference high-magnification.
Also, add two high-altitude flight modules, stealth coating, oh, and silencer modules.
For the weapon systems, I heard you sell some large-caliber machine guns that fire rubber bullets?"
Seeing Mercer list off so many items with ease, the clerk said knowingly: "Yes, we have everything you mentioned in stock.
It seems you're quite familiar with our products, so I'd also recommend adding an upgraded AI automatic fire control chip.
It can automatically scan and recognize your family members and deliver efficient firepower sanctions against any intruders threatening your home."
"No need, but if you have compatible chips without pre-installed programs, I'd be interested in swapping for a more efficient chip."
After Mercer finished, the employee gave a slight bow:
"Of course, it seems you have your own ideas about home defense...
Well, although we don't sell live ammunition for machine guns, we happen to have a machine gun called the 'Home Defender.' Its model is identical to the Mk. 31 HMG heavy machine gun, and the ammunition type is quite universal.
Of course, it is definitely not a Mk. 31 HMG, it just looks the same. If you remove the restrictor components inside the gun yourself, we won't cover it under warranty.
Naturally, the ammunition doesn't have any restrictor components." "However, you must first purchase the Home Defender and have proof of purchase to legally buy its matching ammunition.
The machine gun itself isn't expensive. With the year-end Christmas sale, it's only 23,000 eurodollars.
The machine gun can be paired with various mounts. We offer a premium mount that can load a chip, compatible with the same chip models used in drones.
It comes with a built-in scanning camera, can sync with multiple Militech devices, and can be mounted on a vehicle or installed anywhere in your home that needs protection.
This mount is a retractable, hidden model, and we offer on-site installation services."
Mercer sighed in admiration, "You folks at Militech really know your stuff when it comes to home defense."
The employee mirrored his expression, "Isn't that the truth? In this world, is there any company that understands how to protect your family better than Militech?"
"I'll take it, but I'll need the mount installed later, I have to find a suitable vehicle first."
As soon as Mercer finished speaking, the employee's eyes lit up, but Mercer quickly waved his hand, "Militech vehicles are all too expensive for my taste. Not interested."
"Alright. But I still have to mention our newly released Chevillon Emperor 620 Ragnar Family Defense Edition. Its armor is made from the same high-grade material as NCPD units, and it's very convenient for mount installation.
But it seems you're not interested."
Seeing Mercer's lack of enthusiasm, the employee smoothly shifted gears and pointed to other items, "Take a look, we also have security turrets, cameras, and plenty of excellent protective equipment. Would you like to pick out some more?"
He sized Mercer up and then made a very enticing proposal, "We currently have a 'Family Christmas Frenzy' bundle.
Since you're already planning to buy a drone, why not consider some more protective gear for your family members?
The Family Christmas Frenzy bundle can provide a defense package for up to eight family members, customized by number and size.
The bundle allows you to choose Militech's latest carbon fiber bulletproof jacket, which weighs an astonishingly light two kilograms yet can block three consecutive shots from an Arasaka sniper rifle at ten meters.
Additionally, we'll equip each of your family members with the latest M10-AF Lexington power pistol. This sidearm is sturdy, reliable, battle-tested, and absolutely a cost-effective treasure."
Mercer shook his head, "I don't need miscellaneous weapons, but I am very interested in the bulletproof vests. Can you offer me a more cost-effective option?"
"Yes, of course. If you're very particular and discerning about your selections, I recommend our 'Christmas Holiday Gift Box' bundle. You can choose five different items, and we'll pack them in a Christmas gift box for you.
You'll also enjoy the exclusive 20% discount for the Christmas gift box."
As soon as the employee finished, Mercer nodded decisively.
He realized he might not be cut out for shopping, wanting to buy everything was becoming a problem.
In the end, Mercer boldly purchased two Christmas gift boxes and added a few miscellaneous items before reluctantly heading to checkout.
Two units, nominally home defense drones but actually Wyvern drones, including their built-in machine guns and modification parts.
One heavy machine gun, including its mount capable of supporting smart AI fire control. Bulletproof vests, matching ammunition, grenades, and additional armor plates were purchased according to the current team size.
The prices were incredibly attractive.
With the Christmas sale, it only cost sixty-eight thousand eurodollars.
Among these, the drones were discounted to just eight thousand eurodollars each. With built-in machine guns and other modifications, they came to twelve thousand eurodollars apiece, almost the same price as directly purchasing a combat Wyvern.
The heavy machine gun, along with its mount and five hundred-round ammo boxes, still cost a hefty thirty thousand eurodollars after a 20% discount.
The remaining twenty-four thousand eurodollars covered the bulletproof vests, grenades, extra ammunition, and miscellaneous items.
Mercer did the math and realized that the heavy machine gun ammunition was the most expensive part. Although the wholesale price per round seemed cheap, nobody bought machine gun ammo one bullet at a time.
Standard ammunition had to be purchased by the case, three thousand eurodollars per case, with no discount.
Each case contained a thousand rounds.
The average cost per round was about three eurodollars. But with a heavy machine gun's rate of fire at around 500 rounds per minute, holding down the trigger for two minutes would burn through three thousand eurodollars.
What's more, the ammunition came in both civilian and military versions.
Military-grade armor-piercing ammunitions cost a staggering eight eurodollars per bullet, meaning eight thousand eurodollars per case. Loading a hundred-round ammo box meant each magazine cost eight hundred eurodollars.
As for military-grade armor-piercing incendiary ammunitions at thirteen eurodollars per shot, Mercer didn't even consider them.
In the end, he gritted his teeth and bought two cases of armor-piercing rounds and two cases of standard full-power ammunition.
Expensive... so expensive!
But Mercer had no choice. He wasn't going up against unarmed civilians but ruthless street gangs or well-trained corporate soldiers.
Without armor-piercing rounds, he probably wouldn't even penetrate their subdermal armor and bulletproof vests.
After setting the delivery address to the Aldecaldos camp once again, Mercer headed over to Kang Tao.
He wanted to get himself a more powerful weapon.
The Kenshin, a tech pistol that required charging to unleash its full power, simply wasn't enough for the threats Mercer faced.
In a dangerous situation, who has a full second to charge a shot?
Thus, Kang Tao became Mercer's top choice for a weapon upgrade.
Although smart weapons required a lock-on time, this duration depended on the firearm's internal smart-targeting system.
Most importantly, if you were a netrunner, you could use a Smart Link cyberware installed in your hand, enhanced by your brain computing power, to reduce the lock-on time for smart weapons.
In the game, players could unlock advanced netrunning skills and, while in an Overclock state, turn smart weapons into legendary tools that required no lock-on time and automatically aimed.
In reality, Mercer was confident, he probably didn't even need to activate Overclock to ensure that smart weapons in his hands had zero lock-on time.
Pick it up and shoot; the bullets would automatically track their targets, each one gracefully hitting an enemy's head, with the ability to lock onto multiple targets simultaneously.
This was the weapon of Mercer's dreams.
Mercer browsed around but unfortunately didn't find any high-end custom weapons like the 'Yinglong' SMG he loved in the game.
However, he did come across a smart shotgun that Kang Tao employees hailed as a 'revolutionary' advanced weapon. L-69 Zhuo Smart Shotgun.
This is a shotgun with virtually no competitors.
Its unique magazine design allows it to fire eight independently ignited pellets in an instant, each capable of locking onto and hitting eight different targets under the smart system's guidance.
Not only does it pack immense firepower at close range, but it's also one of the few shotguns capable of precise lock-on hits at medium distance.
Each magazine provides the user with four firing opportunities. While the 0.8-second firing rate isn't blazing fast, it's certainly not slow by shotgun standards.
Reloading is also very convenient, just swap out the large magazine for a new one.
The only drawback is that the pellet-based ammunition has slightly weaker armor-penetration capabilities, but the smart targeting compensates by allowing concentrated fire on vital areas.
"Buy it."
Without hesitation, Mercer placed the order.
Kang Tao's weapons are considered top-tier in the smart weapon market, offering great value for money. For just 8,000 eurodollars, you can get an officially licensed Zhuo shotgun. However, like heavy machine guns, the real expense with smart weapons lies in the ammunition.
Mercer bought five magazines. The magazines themselves cost only 50 eurodollars each, but the ammunition for those five magazines set him back 3,200 eurodollars.
That's because Mercer opted for the higher-grade "Incendiary Ammunition," which generate intense heat upon impact, melting enemy flesh and igniting their cyberware.
Averaging out to 20 eurodollars per round.
He also purchased 500 spare rounds, with no discount, another 10,000 eurodollars gone.
After a stroll around Corpo Plaza, nearly 80,000 eurodollars had vanished.
Mercer then swung by Malorian Arms, a high-end manufacturer specializing in custom-made weapons. After inquiring about the price of a custom firearm, any lingering hopes were completely dashed.
A custom gun starts at 100,000 eurodollars.
The job for El Capitán had only netted him 180,000 eurodollars, and that was only because the old captain, impressed by his skills and as a gesture of friendship, had thrown in a hardware schematic too.
Wakako's Biotechnica heist, barring any unexpected windfalls, would only bring in about 300,000 eurodollars.
Sigh... still broke!
Cutting his wandering short, Mercer grabbed a quick lunch and then called V.
"V, sobered up yet?"
He said with clear annoyance.
V, who was sharing a meal with Kiwi, lit up upon seeing him on the video call: "Yeah, yeah! Ask Kiwi if you don't believe me!"
"Taking you to the ripperdoc this afternoon. Tell Kiwi she's coming too."
After Mercer finished, V paused in surprise before exclaiming excitedly, "You mean..."
"That junk you're wearing is good for nothing. 'A craftsman must sharpen his tools to do his work well.' I'm gonna upgrade your trash."
Mercer paused briefly before adding, "Kiwi needs a new cyberdeck too, along with an immersion pod and a netrunning suit. What kind of netrunner doesn't have that gear?
Don't worry, I'm loaning you the stuff. I'll deduct it from your pay later."
V was too excited to finish eating, immediately setting down her instant burrito: "Should we go now?"
"Don't the docs need to have lunch and take a break too? Meet me in an hour at Misty's Esoterica in Little China. The ripperdoc we're seeing is in the alley behind the shop." "When you get there, just say you're looking for Doctor Viktor, Misty will point you the way, she's a friend of mine.
I'll head over first to chat with Vik about something else. Time it right and come by later."
After Mercer finished speaking, he watched V's excited, expectant guesses over the video call: "So what are you planning to get me? Subdermal Armor? Muscle Enhancement? A cybereye? Or something else?"
"Want to upgrade it all, but this time, we're focusing on the key item, the Sandevistan."
As soon as Mercer said it, V burst out laughing and thrust a thumbs-up at the screen: "Bro! A, you're the realest! Choosing to roll with you is the most badass decision I've ever fucking made!"
"Whatever. Alright, see you then."
Mercer hung up and called Rebecca to check in.
Rebecca was all smiles on the video call, even waving a large shotgun she'd painted green: "Check it out, I fixed up this gun I found, looks pretty cool, right?
I call it Guts! Sounds badass, huh?"
"How'd the mission go?" Mercer couldn't really comment on her colorful tastes; the Animals' shotgun looked like a toy after her paint job.
He wondered if this "Guts" was the same one Rebecca used in the anime after she got her Gorilla Arms.
"Smooth, smooth! We got everything we needed, and we even picked out a sweet target from El Capitán, a corporate dog's sports car, a Quadra Type-66.
We're on our way to the underground parking where the corporate dog keeps it. El Capitán said a car in this condition would sell for at least 110k eddies. After this job, we're gonna be rich!"
Rebecca laughed excitedly: "Mercer, I never thought making money could be this easy! 110k eddies! 110k! We'll split it, uh... Pilar!
What's 60% of El Capitán's buying price?"
Pilar, equally pumped, chimed in: "Over 66k eddies!"
"Haha, even after deducting the 20% team fund you mentioned, we'll still walk away with, uh... over 44k eddies each!"
Rebecca was so thrilled she even blew a kiss at Mercer: "A, if you were here, I'd totally plant one on you!"
"Alright, don't get too carried away. 44k might seem like a lot, but when it comes to getting things done, it's never enough. A decent high-end Subdermal Armor alone costs tens of thousands, and you two still have to split it."
That finally calmed Rebecca down a bit, though her excitement was still palpable: "Once I get my cut, I'm gonna buy some upgrades for Guts, get some new clothes, treat myself to a nice meal!
Heh, I'll upgrade my cyberware too, at least get some Muscle Enhancement. Otherwise, I can't even handle Guts! Took a test shot at the air earlier and nearly got knocked off my feet."
"Good, as long as you're satisfied. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to a reliable ripperdoc. You and Pilar should both get some upgrades. After that, we'll move on to the real big scores."
Mercer's words made Rebecca grin, her white teeth showing: "Mercer, after we wrap up tonight, dinner's on me!"
"Focus on the job first. Don't let success go to your head," Mercer reminded her. Rebecca winked at him: "Oh~ I told you not to worry. I don't want to disappoint you either. Just wait for my good news, that's all I can say. We're almost there, so I need to focus now."
"Alright," Mercer hung up the agent.
With nothing else to do, Mercer decided to head to Little China first, grabbing a bowl of fried rice at a small eatery before making his way directly to Vik's place.
After greeting Misty and cutting through the alley, Mercer pushed open the door to Vik's underground clinic and found him busy repairing a Sandevistan.
"Need a hand?" Mercer's fingers itched with anticipation, he'd taken plenty of courses on cyberware maintenance, modification, and production during his time at Arasaka, but he hadn't had many chances to put that knowledge into practice.
"Nah, I'm used to working alone. Just sit back and watch some TV if you like."
Viktor glanced over at Mercer as he spoke. "By the way, that mask's pretty distinctive."
"Heh, glad you think so. My face is a bit too young, without the mask, I don't exactly command respect." Mercer sighed slightly; he wasn't particularly fond of hiding his appearance.
He didn't actually turn on the TV, instead standing to the side and watching Vik work. After a while, he started fiddling with some of the equipment.
Mercer was fascinated by everything in Vik's clinic.
"How's the Zetatech 3D printer treating you?"
"Works great. The prints aren't quite as good as the originals, but they're more than enough for general cyberware repairs."
"What about the Biotechnica nanocell repair machine?"
"Mhm, good eye. Not many people recognize that one. It's mostly used for neural treatments, real high-end stuff. Don't let its size fool you; one of these costs over 300,000 eurodollars, and you have to regularly refill the nanites and repair fluid."
"The Arasaka blood purifier… This thing's kind of garbage, Vik. I've seen the database records, this model's data was faked."
"Bought it second-hand for the price. If you ever get one yourself, make sure it's from Biotechnica or Zetatech."
Mercer practically toured the entire clinic, and Vik didn't seem annoyed. Few people were as knowledgeable as Mercer, able to recognize many of the seemingly low-key high-quality items in his shop.
"You've got principles, Vik. No sketchy tech from those small manufacturers." Mercer clicked his tongue in admiration.
"Those small-fry machines are a gamble with people's lives. I don't like playing games with my patients' health." Vik let out a relieved sigh as he finally set down the cyberware nanorepair machine.
"Alright, take a look. Should be good to go."
Before Vik could finish speaking, Mercer had already eagerly leaned in.
"Is the programming done? If not, I'll handle it. I'm really interested in Sandevistan software."
As soon as Mercer finished, Viktor chuckled. "Haven't touched it. Was waiting for you, netrunner prodigy."
With that, Vik stepped aside to make room.
Mercer didn't hesitate, taking a seat and picking up the cyberware programming device from Vik's desk. He connected it to the Sandevistan, then plugged in his own data cable.
The device was also from Zetatech, essentially a specialized mini-computer for modifying cyberware software, similar to the portable cyberdecks netrunners used back in the day that didn't require brain implants.
Mercer tapped somewhat unfamiliar fingers across the game-console-sized keyboard, and within seconds, he'd deciphered the machine's code and programs.
Vik stared in astonishment as Mercer, after plugging in, barely moved his hands while complex code scrolled across the machine's screen. "Netrunners are something else. Did you just bypass the operating system entirely?" "Yeah, I prefer getting things done directly with data and code."
Blue light dots flickered in Mercer's cybereye as both the machine and his brain began heating up simultaneously.
In just over thirty seconds, Mercer spoke while multitasking: "Done. The restriction programs inside are almost identical to other Arasaka cyberware. My previously created 'Freelance Assassin' can handle it all."
"But I feel like I can optimize the code inside. Let me try. If I can pull it off, we might even boost the power output a bit."
Old Vik, just watching the rapidly scrolling code on the screen, almost leaving afterimages, felt dizzy and shook his head in amazement. "I don't really get you netrunners' methods. I usually have to follow the operating system step by step."
"Average netrunners don't have my skills. Just figuring out this machine's code would cost them a lot of hair."
Mercer said calmly, continuing to tinker with the Sandevistan's programs. On one hand, he was optimizing the internal code; on the other, he was learning and memorizing the Sandevistan's driver software.
After a few minutes of tinkering, Mercer's brain gradually began to cool down, giving him the leisure to continue speaking:
"All set. My optimized operating system is at least 10% more efficient than before. Though the power increase might be limited, the reduction in neural strain is definitely noticeable."
Vik, who also enjoyed fiddling with tech, couldn't help but lean in immediately. "Let me run a test on it."
After Mercer unplugged the cables, Vik connected the Sandevistan to a dedicated testing computer and ran the diagnostics.
"Impressive. The neural strain is reduced by at least 6%, and the power output has increased by 3% thanks to the optimization! Your skills are truly remarkable."
Viktor wasn't like those ignorant folks, he knew very well that for cyberware operating system software like this, from development to optimization, it usually took dozens of programmers months, even a year or two, of overtime work to develop.
Any optimizations they could make, they would have already tried.
Though Arasaka's Sandevistan lagged behind Mercer's netrunner cyberware and was technically inferior to similar cyberware from Militech or other brands, it was still a lab-grade product, so there were certainly no intentional program limitations left in place.
This meant that Mercer alone, in just a few minutes, had accomplished what dozens of Arasaka programmers might not achieve in months.
Viktor considered himself a genius in the ripperdoc industry, but compared to Mercer's talent in computing...
"There's always someone better, and skies beyond skies. Mercer, you've taught me a lesson."
Viktor sighed, "I still underestimated you."
Mercer just laughed. "I even upgraded the internal protection program!
If a netrunner hacks in and triggers an abnormal signal, this cyberware will automatically enter protection mode to avoid being overloaded or malfunctioning erroneously, twisting itself into a pretzel.
Its previous owner was taken out by me doing just that."
Old Vik set down the Sandevistan, stretched his shoulders, and then turned to look at Mercer. "So what are you planning to install for your friend this time?"
"First, this Sandevistan. Then, we'll need to upgrade her neural link to the latest model, replace her cybereye, and I'm thinking we should add some subdermal armor too." After Mercer finished speaking, he noticed Vik's disapproving gaze.
"Alright, Vik, it's not that much."
"You think everyone has your superhuman tolerance and genius-level adaptability?"
Viktor shook his head and said, "The Subdermal Armor, Sandevistan, and new neural link are fine. For the cybereye, I'll need to review the data first before deciding."
"Install my allocated military-grade Frontal Cortex ICE for her too. I'm not too worried about electronic countermeasures targeting me, but she's a bit of a fool, better safe than sorry."
As soon as he finished speaking, Mercer heard hurried footsteps approaching the door. The only cyberware on Vik's body, his cybereyes, flickered with light:
"A pretty girl with white hair, and a tall one with short hair. Both friends of yours?"
"Yeah, the white-haired one is V, the other is Kiwi."
Mercer grunted in acknowledgment, and only then did Vik activate the automatic door switch.
The door slid open with a whoosh. V poked her head in, her face beaming with excitement. Seeing Mercer and Vik, she greeted them warmly: "Hey! Mercer, Dr. Viktor, I'm here!"
Kiwi slowly entered behind her, merely nodding at Mercer. She glanced around the cyberware clinic with a somewhat complicated expression.
Seeing this, Viktor chuckled lightly: "Your friend really is cut from the same cloth as you."
Mercer looked puzzled: "Me? And her?"
V overheard this and also looked uncomfortable: "Huh? Dr. Viktor, how am I anything like him?"
"Yeah, look at her, she looks like she's got an Intelligence stat of eight at most. Don't even go there, Vik."
As soon as Mercer finished, V immediately put on a confident expression: "Intelligence eight? No way! Absolutely no way! I've been sharp since I was a kid!"
"Well, why not test it and find out?"
Viktor smiled and pointed to the operating chair: "Who's going first?"
Kiwi showed little enthusiasm for cyberware installation. In the end, V stubbornly declared: "Well, of course it's me!"
She fearlessly sat down on the chair, leaned back, and said brashly: "Every time I've gotten cyberware installed before, which doctor didn't say I was exceptionally gifted? They just didn't have specialized testing programs to measure it. This time, you'll get to see my stats!"
Vik was also very interested in the so-called 'wage-slave physique' Mercer claimed could match Adam Smasher. Without further ado, he eagerly connected V to the system and began scanning her with the instruments.
When the scan results came out, Vik couldn't help but widen his eyes slightly.
Holy shit.
You two...
You're both for real?
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Pictures:
Mercer
Kiwi
Lucy
Rebecca
Pilar
V
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Bonus chapter @1200. The next chapter is bigger than this one...
I also recommend reading HxH: Dying Makes Me Stronger it's a true hidden gem.
patreon.com/AstartesTL