A Hard Knock Life: Someone I Used To Know (ch. 15) (Patreon)

"Mano?" Jackie spoke up as we both swallowed a groan the moment we slumped into the couch, the news playing as it detailed hundreds of arrests made, hundreds of millions stolen, and the whole scale collapse of the ABB.

"Hm?" I hummed, resisting the urge to close my eyes and sleep forever.

"I think you might be the craziest motherfucker I've ever met," Jackie told me, his tone honest but he said the words with the same tone as a compliment.

"Hm… Who’s crazier, though? The guy that's crazy or the guy who follows the crazy guy?" I questioned, practically melting into the couch. Jackie let out a small chuckle at that as he did the same. Now that the adrenaline had left my body, everything was really starting to hurt. I think the first thing I would replace will be my ribs. They seem to bruise too easily otherwise.

There was a small silence after that as both of us reflected on the events that had transpired. From start to finish. The day ended with far less of a bang. We got away clean. Very clean. There was no mention in the news about a tinker, so the PRT was suppressing my involvement. No surprise there. They would want to get their hands on me themselves. That was fine by me.

Though… “I just realized… no one will know that this was us,” I said, gesturing wildly at the TV. All of it. With the PRT suppressing my involvement, they had to run with a different story. Wild theories of a disgruntled ABB thug or a Tyger Claw netrunner releasing all of the info. As far as the general population knew? We had no hand in the ABB’s abrupt downfall.

“Ehh, something like this? You don’t want your name attached to it. Not yet. Not at our level,” Jackie shrugged, dismissing the idea. “There’s standing out, then there’s standing out.” He had a point, I had to admit. If the headlines said I had brought down the ABB? I wouldn’t be sitting on the couch right now. I’d either be running for my life or being hauled in a container truck for one corp or another.

We continued to watch the news for a long minute before Jackie’s phone went off. He swallowed a sigh and answered the phone, “Misty? Er… Yeah, I can head over. Nah… Nah, just a bit of a long day. No reason I can’t come over to see my girl… Sure… yeah, I’ll pick some up. Nadoos sauce? Alright. See you in a bit.” Jackie finished the call and, for a moment, he sunk so deeply into the couch it was as if it was conforming to his body to not let him go.

Even still, despite the day that he had, Jackie pushed himself to his feet. “Got a hot date. Try not to burn the city down while I’m out,” Jackie said, pointing a finger at me and giving a stern look.

“Can’t make that promise,” I answered with a smirk, “Tell Misty hey for me. And let Vik know that I’ll probably be stopping by when I can feel my legs again.” Jackie offered a thumbs up before he dragged a hand over his face while he headed for the door. He paused at it for a moment, glancing back at the living room.

“Later Skitter,” he said, knowing that she could hear us. His dark eyes drifted to me, a smirk tugging at his face. “We did it,” he said, making a slow grin spread on mine.

“Yeah… we did it,” I agreed. With that, Jackie headed out for his date with Misty. That fact hadn’t really sunk in yet. It probably wouldn’t until I was standing in front of all the loot again. Then, I’m guessing, it would click that it was ours. The guns, the tools… mine. I could use them how I saw fit, I could make with them what I saw fit… hell if I wanted to, I could just melt it all down and use them for materials.

At that moment, I became all too aware of the duffle bags of money that were underneath the very couch that I was sitting on. We hadn’t even counted them out yet, but I’m guessing it was a lot. A whole lot. I don’t know how much casinos usually stashed as on-hand funds, but… yeah. I was officially rich as far as I was concerned.

Minutes later, I heard steps coming down the stairs. Looking over, I saw Skitter. Her hair was damp from a shower, but she was back in the same costume that she had worn before. She lingered on the steps as if she wasn’t sure what to do. We had brought her back because there just hadn’t been a good time to split up. Plus, wasn’t like she didn’t know who we were at this point.

“Got your pay,” I told her, finding the will to shift about ninety degrees to grab a stack of somewhat crumpled bills. Three stacks of them. The money that I had stuffed down my shirt. The rest, unfortunately, was back in the car. And I resolved to give Vik the rest because if it wasn’t for him going out of his way to give me gene camo…

For a moment, Skitter still lingered at the steps before she cautiously approached, “For what?”

What did she even mean? For what? “For the gig. For coming out. I mean, usually, we’d split whatever we picked up during the gig, but you don’t seem to have much interest in guns.” My eyes drifted to the garbage one at her waist. The kind that you got out a vending machine. “So, cash. I’m not sure how much it is. Let’s just say you earned it.”

Reading her face was impossible with that mask on but her head bobbed in a nod before she accepted the stack of bills. “You really don’t care about money, do you? You really just gave away a billion eddies?” I couldn’t read her tone. It was carefully flat, neutral, so I couldn’t guess what she thought of that.

All I could do was shrug, “Don’t get me wrong -- I like what money can do for me. What it can get me. But money itself? Nah, not really. More of a way to keep score than anything else.” Though, that was probably because I was flushed with cash for the first time in my life. I’d probably care a lot more if I was broke. And not riding high on success. “Those eddies that the ABB had? They didn’t belong to me so I didn’t want ‘em. Not my style. So, I gave ‘em to who they belonged to. Much as I could, at any rate.” There was a lot that I couldn’t have given their fair amount to.

Victims that just hadn’t been mentioned or who I couldn’t find. That sucked, but I did what I could. Wasn’t doing it to save the world or anything. I just did what I wanted to do. No more, no less.

Skitter fell silent, “What is your style, exactly?”

“Dunno yet. Still finding that out, you know? I’m still pretty new to all of this. This last gig was my second one,” I told her, and… holy shit, this was my second gig. The first had me butting heads with Lung and the second had me ending his gang. What the hell? Were all of them going to be balls off the walls fucking crazy?

Skitter let out a breath that could have been a laugh. Was hard to tell with the mask on. She glanced down at the money for a moment, “What do you think will happen to those people?”

“Honestly?” I scratched at a cheek, wondering the same thing. “Depends on if the banks or IRS decide to scoop up the money or not. If they don’t? I’m guessing most of them are going to be hooked on drugs. That kind of shit can’t be easy to live with, so I can’t say that I really blame them,” I answered. It certainly didn’t help that they were probably addicted to whatever the ABB had been giving them.

It was entirely possible that I gave them that money to kill themselves with.

I shrugged, “But, maybe some of them will turn their life around. Use the money to… I dunno… create a new corporation that’s not shit? Doesn’t matter. What they decide from there is all on them.” They got a second lease on life and millions of eddies. They decide to let it end in a drug-filled haze? Or make the most of it? Either way, more power to them. I did my part.

To my surprise, Skitter sat down on the couch with me. She looked down at the stack of bills in her hands, holding onto them like a lifeline. “I’ve… always walked down the same streets my entire life,” she spoke up, her voice quiet but hard. “Always the same roads. From home, to school, to Emma’s house…” Skitter shook her head, the bundles crinkling in her hands. “You hear all the time how awful this city is. And…” She trailed off, but I heard what she meant.

It was different seeing it.

“People stay in the same lanes for comfort. Familiarity. It’s why some people are born, live, and die in a megabuilding without ever once stepping outside. Because they convince themselves that they have all that they need so there’s no reason to. Hell, maybe they’re onto something there,” I admitted, really settling into the couch. “But the city is a lot bigger than a few highways. And the world is a lot bigger than this city.”

“It’s shit,” Skitter voiced, not disagreeing with me.

“Yeah. It’s pretty shit,” I agreed completely.

Skitter sat on the couch for a minute longer, letting the TV fill the silence for us. I tried not to pay attention to her because she was clearly doing some soul searching. If she found her answer, she didn’t say when she stood up without a word. I watched her walk away, heading to the door. For a second, she paused before leaving, only to shake her head to herself before continuing. I heard her leave -- she would likely find an alley to change in since she didn’t trust me and Jackie with her identity.

With the place to myself, I allowed my brain to turn itself off. I should be in school right now, but I didn’t have it in me to go. Too tired. And it felt like my brain had been running on full cylinders since… since Lung, really. The time between then and now was filled with tinkering, constantly working on a project.

So, naturally, that’s when my phone buzzed. An unknown number. I let it ring once. Then twice. Then a third time. As the fourth ring came, I swallowed a sigh and answered. “Lisa?”

“You blocked me,” Lisa snapped at me. Well, not really snapped, but I could tell she was still pretty hung up about that.

“Did I? Did it sound like this?” I questioned, hanging up and blocking the number. There was blissful silence for a long moment and in it, a slow smile grew on my face. A few seconds later, my phone rang again. I answered.

“You are sooooo not funny,” Lisa told me, her tone decidedly annoyed.

A sigh escaped me, my smile whittling away to a slight grin. She could say what she wanted, but I was certainly amused. “Is there a reason you’re calling me?” I asked, deciding to get to the point. I could guess why, though. “Does it have something to do with our bonus?”

I heard Lisa take in a deep calming breath as if she would lose her shit without it. So, it was about our bonus. Sweet. “Despite you making an absolute… catastrophe of the job, our boss was… impressed by your… initiative.” Wow.

“You okay? You sound like you’re in a lot of pain,” I remarked idly, swallowing a laugh when Lisa made a noise of frustration. I guess it was good to know that her power worked over the phone as well because she could clearly tell how much I was enjoying myself.

“V…” She trailed off, making my name sound like a threat. One filled with murderous intent. “Just tell me what you want. Same with Jackie and Skitter,” she sighed, sounding like she was pulling teeth rather than asking me what I wanted for my bonus.

It was an easy choice for me. “Skill shard,” I answered instantly. “High level medical shit,” I added, settling on my next skill to download. Out of everything I had requested, that was easily the most useful and-

“I wouldn’t,” Lisa warned, her tone serious enough to make me pause. “Skill shards aren’t something you just knock back one after another. Do too many too quickly, and you’ll end up having a mental breakdown if you’re lucky. If you’re not, you’ll have a brain aneurysm.” It didn’t sound like she wanted me to not have them because for the sake of not having them. “Give it some time. A month or so. Then you can hit another skill shard.”

A finger tapped on the arm of the couch, considering that. Trying to think of what she -- or her boss-- would have to gain by not letting me have another skill shard. There was a list of reasons, but most of them didn’t with what I knew of Lisa or seemed like reaching. “Okay,” I agreed after a moment. “No skill shard for me. For now.”

“In that case… I want an implant. Fortified tendons,” I decided, my eyes drifting to Cerberus. I took it with me to get used to the weight, not because I expected to use it. I couldn’t. Not without losing the arm I shot it with.

“For that thing you shoved in my face?” Lisa questioned, her tone snarky.

“That’s the one,” I agreed. I had the materials now. I could craft my bones… though, there was one issue. “I would also like to buy another mod. Dense marrow,” I told Lisa, knowing that her power was going to have a field day with that. And I was right.

“Planning on becoming a full borg?” Lisa remarked, making it sound more like a statement. I couldn’t blame her for thinking that, but… actually…

I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me, “Not trying to, but if better options are on the table, then I’m going to take them, you know?” And with my power, I would almost always have a better option. With a new skeleton filled with dense marrow? Not only would my bones be unbreakable, but my blood production would skyrocket, so bleeding out would be a lot more difficult. Getting my carotid severed would take minutes for me to bleed out rather than seconds.

“For a full skeleton, it’s going to cost you a pretty enny. I’d recommend letting our boss foot the bill,” Lisa advised.

I frowned, “How pretty?” It wasn’t surprising that she knew I meant a full body transplant, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a little annoying.

“If you cut quality? Try half a million,” Lisa informed, and that was a real gut punch. From the smile in her voice, I’m guessing she knew it would be one. “Impants don’t come cheap, V. Not the good ones, at least.”

Alright… so, I was holding off for a little bit. Unless? “Am I sensing a job lined up to help me with this situation I’m in?” I asked, realizing that I was getting baited.

"In a sense," Lisa hedged. "I'm sending you a location. Be there." She hung up on me before I could ask for details. A second later, I was sent a location in Wellsprings, the district next to Heywood and below Downtown… then she blocked me so I couldn't call her back. I deserved that, I could admit to myself. Still, that left one major issue -- I had to get off the couch.

I refused to for a long ten minutes, not even watching TV. Just sitting there and relaxing. However, in the end, practicality won out over laziness. Swallowing a low groan of pain, I pushed myself to my feet and started making my way up the steps to get a shower.

Taking off my shirt, I glanced at myself in the mirror. The pills Jackie recommended were already starting to show results. I hadn't been particularly scrawny before, but I hadn't been muscled either. Now I could see the beginnings of pecs, more defined abs, and my arms bulked up a little too. I'm sure it would look more impressive if it wasn't for the giant bruise that covered most of my chest.

Tenderly poking it, I winced before I opened up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror -- Jackie kept a well-stocked medicine cabinet. A trait of the trade. There was the neural booster that I had hit -- not doing that again -- and a health booster. I took a deep huff of it, then taking another as I held the medicine in my lungs. The pain in my chest lessened. The bruises, which would take a few weeks to fade normally, would be gone in a couple of days.

Much to my annoyance, it seemed that Skitter had taken the bulk of the hot water, so I was left with lukewarm stuff that slowly got colder. It prompted for a quick shower, at least. After that, I dried off, got dressed, and started heading out, only to pause at the doors like the others. I spared one look at the couch, looking through it to see the money that was hidden underneath. The cold hard eddies that came from a crazy day.

Not to mention… stepping into the garage, I headed to my laptop. Popping it open and bringing up a video feed of a storage warehouse that Jackie and I had paid for in cash. Inside was the transport truck -- it was visible from several angles. The storage place was in Watson, located in the No-Tell Motel equivalent to storage units. Inside was the loot we had earned -- not everything that I had wanted, but given the circumstances, it was probably more than we should have gotten.

That being said… I pulled up my algorithm to find that it was much more complete when it came to tracking the movements of what was left of the ABB. Every member of the ABB was hooked up into the ABB subnet on some level. Now that it was gone, the quality of the information would certainly take a hit as ABB thugs ditched their phones, scattered, and so on. Still, it gave me an idea of where they were going.

Most, I expected, would roll into the Tyger Claws. Others would drop the gangster act. Some would become their own gangs. The latter were the types that were already in positions of power. And given that I had gone out of my way to empty their bank accounts, I'm guessing that they would be looking to offload whatever toys they had to keep afloat.

It was something worth keeping an eye on, at least. The ABB had a cornerstone on the black market, so there were all kinds of things that I wanted and were floating around in what was ABB territory.

"I…" I began, looking at my laptop and looking around the garage for a moment. "Need to get some wheels," I finally decided. Something that was mine. I could just steal something again. Wasn't like it was any trouble anymore. Still, stealing when I could buy some wheels felt tacky. I could just wait for Tattletale’s boss to foot the bill, but I was planning on getting implants.

And… based on what Lisa said, Tattletale’s boss seemed very willing to sink a lot of money into us. I wasn't sure how flushed he was with cash… and it could still all be a trick, but when he's willing to invest millions into me, it was hard to imagine he'd just stab me in the back and kill me. No, if he was going to do anything, it would chip me and reel me in so I couldn't act against him. Like Bakuda. Or worse.

Setting to issue aside, for now, the garage was too small for a car. So, I looked up bikes for sale. A Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X caught my eye -- cherry red and gold for twenty-two thousand. Cash only. There were a bunch of pictures of it looking like it was a preem bike, but… given the price tag, and given that the bikes were one of the fastest allowed on city streets… the thing would be an absolute junker.

Even still, I sent a message saying I had cash and I was willing to buy now. I got an address -- even better, it was nearby.

I was right. The thing was a hunk of junk and every photo had been edited to hell and back. The paint had faded and chipped, half of the guts were filled with rust… the only good thing about the bike was the fact that it ran. Even if it sounded like it was dying. I didn't say anything about it when I tossed over the cash to the guy, and he didn't say anything to me when he tossed me the cyber key.

There wasn't anything to say, really.

Taking my seat on the bike, I revved the engine, instantly identifying the rattle in the roar. The bike wasn't anything that I couldn't fix. More importantly, it ran. Gently turning the gas, I started to move -- the guts of the bike were rotten, but the software was still solid. It balanced itself and resisted any move that would tip me over and crash. Despite it being the first time I rode a bike, I was able to fly down the streets with the wind in my hair. Basically, I was driving with training wheels, but that was okay with me for now.

When I got good and was used to the bike, then I could think about taking the training wheels off.

It was a freeing feeling, I decided as I drove to the meet. The wind in my hair was nice. That, and having the ability to just cut around cars was also a major perk. In the city, Downtown, Corporate Plaza, and Wellsprings generated the most traffic by far. It clogged up the streets, and no number of overpasses could get rid of the bumper to bumper traffic.

Because of it, flying cars darted around overhead to avoid the traffic entirely. Most people talked trash about the corpos that flew in them, hating them for thinking that they were too good to slum it on the streets with the rest of us. I didn’t. If I had a flying car then I wouldn’t bother with the traffic either.

Eventually, I arrived at my destination. Parking on the side of the road, I got off my new bike and paid no attention to it driving off on its own, heading to a parking garage that would charge me out the nose for the privilege. I rolled my shoulder as I looked up at the sizable building -- Night City really was divided by sectors, I found. Heywood was a rough but strong community. Watson was generally a blend of dirt and charm.

The building before me? All flash. Sleek architecture that stood proudly amongst the skyscrapers that made Night City’s skyline. It wasn’t the tallest building around, but it didn’t have to be. Holograms of various advertisements scrolled down its walls, trying to fit as many as possible based how quickly they flashed by-

Because I was looking up, I saw a blip come off of the building. My eyes zoomed in on reflex, and I saw it was a man. His back was faced towards me, so I couldn’t see his face. With my optics, I saw that he was dressed in a fine suit that probably costs the same as my bike. I tracked him all the way down until he impacted the sidewalk with a loud splat. His body crumpled on impact, hopefully dying to.

People flinched at the noise, the comers and goers looking around for the source of the noise. Their eyes found it, blood seeping out into the sidewalk. Finding the guy that was either pushed out a window by someone or by stress of the job. Given that he hadn't been flailing around? My bet was suicide.

Then they kept walking. I couldn’t blame them because I did the same.

Walking past the corpse, I headed inside the building. The interior was… clean. The kind of clean that I could eat off the floor and know it was cleaner than some plates I’ve been served. Marble flooring with leather couches lining the walls. The name of the building was in bold letters, but they didn’t mean anything to me. Though, they did clue me into the fact that the building was a living space.

A woman worked the front desk -- she was either an android or she was chromed out. In place of skin, she had silver chrome that covered her from head to toe, her hair was black and also metal. Instead of clothes, there was a hologram of a business suit. Upon entering, neon green eyes met my own as I strode into the building after I stopped gawking. She watched me approach, unblinkingly, until I arrived at the central desk.

“Mrs. Wilbourn is expecting you,” she spoke, her voice sounding normal if a tad too pleasant on the ears. To my left, an elevator opened up. “Company policy is to hand over your weapons,” she said, gesturing with a metallic hand at the shotgun at my ribs and Cerberus at my hip. “They will be returned to you when you leave, Mr. V.”

“Can you send ‘Mrs. Wilbourn’ a message telling her that there’s no way I’m willing to get in that elevator unless I’m armed to the teeth?” I requested, hitting the woman with a Ping. And she was a woman -- just one chromed to the point of being a borg. Mantis blades in her arms, her upper arms and shoulders were just slots for weapons. Everything else of her was tailor-designed to be both a bodyguard and the ultimate receptionist.

Breach revealed that she was in direct contact with Lisa via an open line. So, when Ashely -- the borg -- seemed to refuse, I sent the message for her. A tense moment passed before Ashely nodded.

“You may keep your weapons. Mrs. Wilbourn also requests that you ‘eat shit.’” She informed, earning a small smirk from me as I turned to the elevator. Stepping inside, I leaned against the wall and crossed my arm, probing the systems to make sure that no one tried to cut the breaks and have me plummet to my death. The number on the elevator climbed higher and higher and it only stopped after it had passed over a hundred.

The doors slid open and I realized it was a penthouse because instead of seeing a hallway, I saw a living room. An utterly massive TV was on the right wall, so large that it practically was the wall. I saw someone sitting on the couch with a headset on, the couch itself seemed to act as some kind of divider for the open space. I think the floors were made of real wood. it was a dark color, clashing with the creamy white walls or the metallic fixtures  The place looked outrageously nice. So nice that I really wondered what I was getting into.

Lisa stepped into view, dressed comfortably in a skirt and a dress shirt -- just looking at the clothes, I knew they were expensive. Lisa wore a crooked grin, "I thought someone who gave up a billion eddies would be more immune to wealth," she remarked, cocking her head at me as I took the place in.

I wish I had a witty reply to that, but she had a point. I thought I had money… my ass was broke. "Immune to money, not wealth," I responded flippantly, stepping out of the elevator to get a better look at the place. It was a penthouse, alright. The left wall was made of tinted glass, highlighting… "Is that a kitchen?" I questioned, looking at it without really understanding what I was looking at.

I've never seen one before. Not in a home, at least. The closest thing I had at my apartment was a microwave.

"Yup. I even got orange juice just for you. Made with real oranges," Lisa remarked, striding into the kitchen.

"Did you poison it?" I was compelled to ask, still looking around the place. The air smelled odd in a way I couldn't really identify. It took me a moment to figure out why -- the air was clean. Filtered of pollution, smog, and whatever else filled the city streets.

"Drink it and find out," Lisa said, opening a door -- a refrigerator -- and poured me a glass before sliding it over to me. I looked down at it for a moment, very tempted to do exactly that. However, instead, I took a seat at the counter and chose to ignore it. For now.

"How can you afford a place like this? The gigs don't seem to pay this well," I remarked. To that, Lisa offered a smirk.

"Stock market," Lisa answered simply. "With my power, it's basically just free money."

I bet, I thought to myself, taking another look around. Looking back, I saw the person with the headset shift, turning to look at me and I saw it was Alec. He looked bored as hell and went back to his headset without even saying a word.

"And the Corpos haven't snatched you up because…?" I asked, turning back to look at her. The smirk on her face seemed a little stiff, but she didn't seem to mind the probing question.

She offered a small shrug before she reached out to take my glass of orange juice back. The absolute bitch. "Started out as a small-time thing and I was smart about it when I first got my powers. I lost as much as I made, but when I needed cash, it always timed up well with a surge in the stock price. No one pays attention to peanut league stock manipulation." She smiled at me as she took a sip, taunting me. "By the time I came to Night City with big dreams, my boss took notice and…"

"Snatched you up," I offered when I saw her brief hesitation. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, telling me that I had guessed right.

"Recruited me," Lisa finished, correcting me. "Started off in a little place in Kabuki, but with his contacts and my power, I managed to get the Undersiders this cozy place within a year." Lisa was a gifted actor, I figured. If I hadn't already decided to doubt every word that she said, I probably would have believed her.

I chose to not remark on the lie. Because, if she was lying… then I had to assume it was because her boss was listening. "The Undersiders?" I questioned instead, "Is that the team name or something?"

"It is," Lisa confirmed with a nod. "Brian is the unofficial leader, me, Alec, then Rachel -- Bitch --... Lastly, there's Aisha." So, five capes. That was quite the ace to have hidden up your sleeve.

I nodded, mulling that over. That also meant that I was here with five capes. "So, why am I here?" I asked, leaning my prosthetic onto the counter. I was armed. If I had to shoot my way out, then I would, but I was really hoping that I didn't have to. Lisa's eyes dipped down to it, and I wondered what her power told her about it.

"You don't have to worry so much, V. If I was going to betray you, I would have done it already," Lisa stressed, setting down the glass of orange juice. That wasn't as reassuring as she wanted it to be. I trusted Jackie because he had my back. I trusted Skitter because she was willing to extend some limited trust back. I didn't trust her boss because I never met the guy. I didn't trust Lisa because she seemed determined to keep secrets. "You're here because of what happened today. What you did."

That was a loaded statement, "You'll need to specify. It's been a busy day."

"The data castle," Lisa clarified. "Look, in general, tinkers can code circles around normal netrunners so long as their specialty brushes up against software. That's why we had you jack into the server… but, for as long as there have been powers, people have been waiting for powers like yours." She began, her voice low and grave.

"The first was Andrew Richter," Lisa began, her gaze never leaving mine. "His power? AI development," she said, and try as I did, I couldn't keep an expression of surprise off of my face. That was… AI development? What would that even look like?

AI's have been a thing for a long time. And, in general… nothing good came about them. The Blackwall was put up because of them. According to Netwatch, without it, humanity would be long gone. With or without powers. It was easy to see why. AIs were a part of the Net… and humanity was completely dependent and hooked into it.

"The details are fuzzy, and even what I know is mostly guess work from rumors and shit posting from tinfoil hats but… allegedly, Richter can create truly sentient AIs. No question about it or theoretical questioning about it. Real sentience. He used them to start up a company in Newfoundland -- selling them out for whoever had the money to buy them. Combat AI that made the stuff from the Corpo Wars look like a joke, AIs that can subvert Black ICE like nothing…" She continued, and I noticed something.

Something that didn't make sense, "If the guy can do that, then why are you making it sound like he's still alive?" If he could do that, then the Corps wouldn't stand for it. No way. They remained in power by being untouchable. Some random guy with a power like that? They'd sink Newfoundland if it meant taking him out.

"Because he is," Lisa confirmed. "I'm not sure how, why, or where -- but Richter is still alive. The company he made? Care to guess what it is?" Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to. Lisa didn't seem to care. "Brother Eye."

"Fuck me," I cursed, the words slipping out. Brother Eye was the Canadian equivalent to Netwatch. It appeared roughly twenty years ago, going from being an absolute no name to a corporate giant recognized by the UN and NUSA. It was established with AIs? That would explain some things, but it was still insane to think about.

That… that dragon in the Net. Could it have been…?

"The point is that people with powers like yours that can interface directly with the Net? They're rare. Because of that, the moment a corporation like Arasaka realizes what you can do, they are going to do whatever it takes to either kill you or make you theirs," Lisa stressed. "Because you will either further secure their grip on the throat of the world or you're a dangerous threat that needs to be killed."

And I good as announced that I was that kind of tinker.

"I get what you're getting at," I spoke up, seeing where this conversation was leading. "But my goal hasn't changed. Not in the slightest. Can't become a Legend if I avoid the spotlight."

Lisa's lips curled into a frown as her eyes narrowed into a glare, "Everyone wants to be someone, V. Most of them aren't so eager to die for it."

"That's why most of them don't become someone," I argued before I shook my head. "I appreciate the concern, Lisa. I actually do. Nice to see that you have some layers beyond incredibly irritating and sassy sarcasm," I told her with a smirk when she scowled at me.

"I'm not just asking on your behalf. Our boss has decided to take a special interest in your development. He wants you to work for him," Lisa explained, and I'm guessing what she said about Corpos also applied to him as well. So, now that he saw what Optimization meant, he was intent on digging his claws into me.

"I am working with him," I answered. "He has my price and so long as he keeps paying it, I'm on retainer. But, the thing is, I will only do things my way. I fuckin refuse to become a Legend any other way. If I have to compromise on that, I'll stick some iron in my mouth and blow out the back of my head first," I swore to her and the blood seemed to drain from her face because she saw that I was deadly serious.

It was just as I told Taylor -- I was still feeling out what my style was, but that was the core of it. I wanted to do things my way. Always. If I wanted to pick a fight with Lung? I'd pick that fight. If I wanted to give away a billion eddies? I'd give 'em away. If I died doing it? Then I fucking died doing it.

I'll live how I want to live. If death was the price I paid for it then I'd pay the piper.

"Now… I gotta ask, Lisa. Did you call me here because you knew what I would say and you wanted me to be surrounded?" I asked, leaning in, my tone as sharp and deadly as a knife.

Lisa shook her head, "No. I just wanted you to start to understand the value of your own life," Lisa snapped at me. "You're here because I want to hire you for a job," she continued, her tone frosty.

I searched her face for any sign of deceit but I found none. I gestured for her to continue as I leaned back into the chair.

"The ICEbreaker? I want it," Lisa said, and there was an edge in her voice. "I'm willing to pay the cost of your Dense Marrow implant. Top of the line quality stuff."

My ICEbreaker? She meant Breach? That… was a potentially very dangerous combination. A woman with deductive skills as a superpower and an ICEbreaker that could crack most non-tinker tech grade ICE?

"Can I ask why?" I questioned, mulling the offer over. If the bottom shelf stuff was half a mill, then what would I be looking at with top-shelf stuff?

"You can. You won't get an answer, though," Lisa responded, her gaze meeting mine unflinchingly.

Well… it wasn’t like it would work on my systems. Breach… right now, it was probably the beta version. When I completed my coding language, that would be the first true Breach. Same for all my other spells. So, for the most part, I didn’t have any real skin in the game. Still… something was bothering me.

Was it Tattletale’s boss asking me for Breach or was Lisa asking for Breach?

One way to find out, really. I hit her with Siren Call, then a Breach. Her implants were laid bare -- Arasaka Optics Mk. 4, Netwatch MK. V OS card that was custom made, subdermal armor under her skin…

Oh.

"Alright," I agreed, giving a careless shrug. "Deal."

There was one final implant that scared the absolute hell out of me. One that I had heard about, but never really gave much thought about. It was an implant that told me that it was her boss that was asking.

Because Lisa had a doll implant in her head. Her boss was in control of her every move, the way she spoke, the way she acted… Lisa was his puppet in absolutely every way. Every time we spoke, every interaction… Lisa was just acting out a script that was uploaded into her doll implant.

I've never met the real Lisa.