Kael sat at his workbench, the internal components of the Kenshin tech-pistol spread before him like a high-tech puzzle. With his "Technical Genius" trait active, recalibrating the electromagnetic rail guides was child's play. However, focus was a luxury he didn't possess. Lucy, fresh from the shower and smelling of ozone and jasmine, slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Stop messing around, Lucy," Kael said, though his hands had already stopped moving. "I'm in the middle of a delicate calibration."
"I'm just a silent observer," Lucy whispered, her iridescent eyes shifting with a playful, dangerous light. She straddled him, her damp hair brushing against his skin.
The moment was interrupted by the doorbell shrieking—followed by a sharp, childish voice screaming through the metal plating. "Hello?! Package delivery! Come out and pay up or I'm leaving it in the trash!"
Kael opened the door to find Rebecca. She was holding a heavy industrial crate, looking bored. When she saw Kael, a grin split her face. "Hey! It's the Pancake Vendor!"
"It's Kael now. I've retired from the culinary arts."
"Pity," Rebecca said, standing on her tiptoes to pat his shoulder. "I'm Rebecca. My brother Pilar said these were for some 'kinetic assist' rig. Tens of thousands of Eddies for a bunch of metal scrap? You better know what you're doing, Techie."
Kael inspected the custom-machined servos and micro-thrusters. He transferred the remaining balance plus a 500-Eddie tip. Rebecca's eyes lit up. "A tip? In this city? You're a rare breed, Kael. If you need an Edgerunner who actually hits what she aims at, call me."
After she left, Kael turned to the crate. With the Power of Three guiding his hands, he began the assembly. The blueprint from Titan-Kael was etched into his mind: the Jump Kit. It would allow for double jumps and wall-running, alongside a high-tension Grapple Hook.
The only missing piece was the power source. He had pre-ordered military-grade drone batteries from a seller in Northside, but the fixer, a Maelstromer named Six-Eyes, was ghosting him.
"I need to go have a 'talk' with him," Kael said, checking his Kenshin.
"I'm coming with you," Lucy insisted.
"No," Kael said, kissing her forehead. "Stay here and keep an eye on the local feeds. I'll be back by dark."
Kael arrived at the Northside Industrial District (NID), a sprawling graveyard of abandoned factories. He approached the warehouse using the alias "BT"—a tribute to his old Titan partner.
Inside, the warehouse was a cathedral of machinery. Six-Eyes sat on a throne of stripped car seats, his entire face a cluster of six glowing red optics.
"My batteries," Kael said, his hand resting on the grip of his tech-pistol. "Or my Eddies back. Your choice."
"In Night City," Six-Eyes hissed, his voice a digital rasp, "a deposit is just a fee for my time. You aren't getting either, little boy. We need some fresh 'ganic' parts anyway."
Kael sighed. He had hoped for a professional transaction, but Maelstromers only spoke one language. "Lucy," Kael whispered into his link. "Blackout."
The warehouse lights killed. In the sudden pitch black, the Maelstromers' red eyes glowed like embers. They thought they had the advantage with their thermal optics. They didn't know about the Pilot instincts of a man who fought in the dark of deep space.
Bang. The Kenshin barked. A tungsten round punched through Six-Eyes' primary sensor, turning his titanium-alloy skull into a smoking crater. Kael moved like a blur, a "Calculating Survivor" in his element. He unleashed a flurry of rounds, picking off the remaining gang members with clinical efficiency before they could even raise their rifles.
Kael retrieved the military-grade batteries—four of them, pristine and high-capacity. As he prepared to leave, he spotted a shipping container holding a sleek, red and white ARCH Nazaré motorcycle.
(I got them,) Kael messaged Lucy. (And I found a Nazaré in their garage. I'm taking it as 'interest' on my deposit. Rent an unregistered warehouse.)
He opened the valves of the warehouse's alcohol fuel and dropped a flare. Before the flames could reach him, he kicked the Nazaré into gear and roared out of the factory gate.
Back at the apartment, Lucy jumped into his arms. "You certainly caused a stir. The Maelstrom is already claiming the Tyger Claws did it."
"Can't blame me, Luce. They tried to turn a simple trade into a harvest."
He finally slotted the new batteries into the Jump Kit. The indicator lights flashed from amber to a steady, glowing blue. Later that evening, they headed to a secluded stretch of beach to test it.
Kael pressed the trigger on his glove. A sudden, violent burst of kinetic energy launched him meters into the air. He hit a vertical sea wall, his boots magnetized, and he ran along the surface as if gravity were merely a suggestion.
"Awesome!" Kael shouted, looking like a kid with a new toy.
"Had enough fun, Pilot?" Lucy asked, sitting on a nearby reef.
"It's a field test, Luce! Very scientific." Kael walked over and took her hand. They strolled along the shore, leaving parallel footprints in the sand as the neon lights of Night City flickered in the distance—a city that was about to find out exactly what a Pilot could do.