"Done."
Sasha climbed out of the ice-filled bathtub, water streaming off her skin. Maine stood at a forty-five-degree angle to the ceiling, studiously looking anywhere but at her—nothing he hadn't seen before.
Pilar wasn't around. Probably in his workshop tinkering with some new piece of junk.
Dorio draped a jacket over Sasha's shoulders. Everyone was waiting for good news.
Diving into cyberspace was an effective way to chase down leads. Netrunners could also provide real-time support and warnings for teammates in the field.
The catch? Don't get caught by the enemy's netrunner. If you're unprotected, a corporate hacker won't hesitate to fry your brain.
Rebecca—the one that "Barghest idiot" had called by name—was sprawled on Sasha's windowsill with her hands behind her head, eyes closed, completely disinterested.
"Dogtown's network is as broken-down as the place itself. But I got a name on that guy: Ethan Cole."
Sasha smiled, eyes narrowing into crescents. Combined with the whisker-like cyberware decorations on her cheeks, she looked like a satisfied cat.
"Gotta say, he's got some pull—there was a hacker protecting his data the whole time."
"I don't know any 'Ethan Cole.' Don't tell me Barghest actually has eyes on us now?" Rebecca sat up and got right in Sasha's face, prompting Maine to pick her up like an action figure and deposit her on the bed.
Rebecca crossed her arms and buried herself in her oversized jacket collar, sulking.
Sasha shrugged and continued. "Doesn't look like it. Barghest has no logs or operational records on us. But here's the weird part—this guy got kicked out."
"His whole squad got dealt with by Hansen, along with his gambling and drinking buddies."
"As for the rest of the convoy security? That was us."
Hansen cleaning house afterward was standard operating procedure. But why spare this one guy named Ethan Cole? Maine couldn't figure it out.
Whatever the case, this was just business. Edgerunner crew takes a job, everything goes according to plan.
What worried him was retaliation from Colonel Hansen. The man wasn't exactly the cautious type. And now this Ethan Cole was still breathing—
Did that mean Ethan Cole knew something? Was that why he'd been allowed to live?
Maine looked up. Everyone in the room wore the same troubled expression.
"Is Dogtown easy to get into?"
That question settled it. Maine didn't know what Hansen was thinking, but he knew one thing: this "former Barghest" still being alive was a big problem.
"I can work on finding a way in through the outer wall, but it'll take time." Dorio understood what Maine was planning.
Rebecca punched her palm. "We need to handle this ourselves."
Sasha nodded in agreement. "I'm ready whenever."
Five hundred eddies. Five. Hundred. Eddies!
Ethan's heart was bleeding. Fifty rounds of tech sniper ammunition had cost him that much.
And that was after haggling fifty eddies off the price at the Stadium black market.
At least the rifle wrapped in cloth on his back offered some comfort.
If he could quantify his own abilities into stats, did that mean the skill trees from the game could work for him too?
He tried. No luck. Points could only go into base attributes—and even then, he had a concern.
Based on pre-transmigration game mechanics, there was a cap on points. That meant Ethan would have to specialize: blades, netrunning, rifles, pistols—each required skill investment.
Back in his old life, he'd used trainers to experience every build. But that wasn't an option here.
Not that worrying helped. The system's stat bonuses were locked to specific attributes. He couldn't redirect them.
Name: Ethan Cole
Stat Value Body 9 Reflexes 6 Technical Ability 2 Intelligence 4 Cool 5
Wait, why did Body go up by one?
Was it from Hansen's affinity bonus? No, that didn't track. Unless—
He felt a hollow ache and shook his head. Right. The blood-stained tactical gloves, still sitting in his washing machine. Cyrus had given him those.
No time to mourn "friends." Ethan followed the road leading from the Dogtown checkpoint up toward the hills.
Mr. Hands' hacker contact still wasn't answering calls. Who knew what he was busy with.
After passing some unfriendly-looking Animals gang members, a few drunks, and catching part of a boxing match, Ethan arrived at the designated location on schedule: what looked like an abandoned motel.
Beep—
A distorted doorbell chime.
The hacker Mr. Hands called "Hamster" was cautious. By the time Ethan reached the door, a security camera had already locked onto him.
He looked up at the lens. A man's raspy voice crackled through the intercom.
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Hands sent me."
The door opened. The hallway was piled with garbage. What used to be a dining area now had tables stacked against the walls, replaced by several sentry turrets.
From the moment Ethan stepped inside, those barrel-sized cannons tracked his every move.
Hamster's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"Third door on the left. Turn right. There's a maintenance shaft cover on the floor. Lift it, climb down. Close the door behind you."
The tone was flat. Hamster clearly wasn't thrilled about this job.
The underground passage was lit only by emergency lighting—a sickly green glow that felt like a path to hell. The deeper Ethan went, the hotter it got.
Emerging from the pipe, Ethan stepped over a floor covered in cables and wiring. In the center of a room packed with servers, a man lay in a netrunner chair, still jacked into cyberspace.
Too bad. If I could get a netrunner operating system installed, maybe I could dive into cyberspace someday too.
Ethan filed that thought away.
"Did Hands tell you what you're supposed to do?" Hamster's voice cut through his thoughts.
Ethan unslung his rifle. "Stop the edgerunner crew coming for us."
Hamster laughed bitterly. "You make it sound easy. Like you're just gonna stroll over to Clouds for a 'session.'"
"..."
Honestly, with only 4 Intelligence, Ethan felt like an idiot for a second there.
What was he supposed to do when a full edgerunner crew came knocking?
His expression must have been something, because Ethan already knew which crew Hands was talking about. Maine's team.
Mental note: be ready to run. Fast. Can't let street mercs catch up.
"That crew's netrunner is smart. She knows where to find you—I can see everything clearly. But she's only interested in you. Hansen's got ex-military netrunners watching his place. They can't touch him."
"And you, my friend? You're the 'sacrificial pawn' Hands is throwing out as ICE." (Note: ICE = Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics, basically a firewall.)
Ethan nodded. "So what, you're going to train me? Like, what do I say to make an armed edgerunner crew holster their weapons and happily go grab a work lunch at some Westbrook food truck?"
He said it just to needle Hamster.
"Hah! Dumbass."
Hamster actually laughed, then continued: "Alright, quit whining. I'll handle the opposing netrunner. Hands is taking this seriously—I'll upload the fake data. If their assault team comes to flatline you, just hold out for a bit. Barghest will show up when they hear gunfire."
Ethan pointed at himself. Hold out? That person was him, wasn't it?
"It's really just me?"
Hamster's tone was certain:
"What else? Friend, this is cat and mouse. Keep the cat from catching you, and later Hands will set you up with a ripperdoc at the Stadium for some facial reconstruction."
"One more person means one more liability."
"I take my money, you get your new face, and we stay out of each other's business."
PLZ THROW POWERSTONES
BONUS CHAPTER
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