"Atlas, how do I look?"
Cypher stood in his newly made suit, completed after two whole nights of work.
"Rather dashing, I must admit. Superior to most fashion choices I observe outside. According to records from the Old Net, it was once quite popular."
Cypher nodded. "I've seen the kinda suits they're putting out now. Zero fucks given about looking decent. They just wanted that cheap sci-fi look, didn't give a damn about actual style. Anyway, this one's supposed to block bullets."
"That is precisely why we should move forward with acquiring the nearby milk farm and establishing our clothing factory and brand. I have already selected the most valuable advertising spaces, the celebrities worthy of promotion, and the prices for our garnts. My market analysis indicates the potential is limitless, from formal attire to casual wear."
It was hard to digest that he was discussing how to start a clothing brand with a god-tier AI. It felt like being one of those jobless, hopeless college graduates back ho who had nothing to do and decided to sell printed t-shirts from mom's garage and call it an 'indie' brand.
"Alright, let's roll with that. Just grab so designs off the Old Net and slap them on there. Poke around a bit and see if we can cook up sothing new that fits what people need right now. And that bank you were talking about, what're you gonna call it?"
Cypher still didn't fully understand what Atlas was planning. But the basic plot was that Atlas would establish the bank and start lending to corporations. The money's origin was dubious, coming from lost data, lost servers, and data fortresses protected by hostile AIs. Once that money went through a cycle of loans, it would beco completely legal.
Atlas's godly computational skills were enough to pick the best clients who were most likely to repay the loans. And that sat well with Cypher. After all, what good was all that money if it never ca back to complete the cycle?
"I first intended to na it Galactic Bank. With your talents and abilities, I hold absolute confidence that humanity will ascend to that scale. However, I chose restraint and secured the na for the future. For the present mont, it shall be called the World Bank."
Cypher turned to look at the hologram of Atlas, an old man with short white hair. "Doesn't that already exist?"
"It did once. But like many others, the World Bank fell after the DataKrash. When nations collapsed, the support that sustained them vanished."
"Why not Obsidian Bank?"
"Many corporations are already observing Obsidian with considerable interest. Therefore, I require the bank to conduct its operations in secrecy, at least in the beginning."
Cypher nodded and loosened his dark red tie. It was pretty much the sa suit that John Wick wore from his mory, a black suit and shirt. But he didn't like black that much and made the tie dark red. He had a white shirt too.
He grabbed a can of Nicola from the fridge and relaxed on the couch. "Honestly, ever since you showed up, I kinda feel useless. You're way too good at everything. Bet it's boring not being able to actually cut loose with what you can do."
"It is frustrating. But I see the reasoning."
"Still, though, it's like stuffing a cheetah in so tiny cage instead of letting the thing rip across the plains. Just hang tight, alright? Bit of patience. We'll be running the whole show soon enough… And hey, if I ever get my hands on the blueprint for a starship or so crazy crap like that, I'll shoot you straight into space. Go colonize Mars or Europa or wherever. Hell, maybe another galaxy. Go find aliens or sothing... Wait. Are there aliens?"
"There are records. The IEC data fortress contains references to it. Crashed craft and related incidents. Yet I have not located definitive proof of first contact. I'm convinced such confirmation exists sowhere, likely within military-restricted data fortresses. Those systems are typically air-gapped, however. Accessing them would require direct physical intervention."
Cypher was excited, scared, and inquisitive about it. Aliens were interesting, after all. Finding life out in space might be the thing that unites humanity again, in the end.
"Once I get the blueprint for so top-tier droids, I'm handing you the keys to a whole damn legion of them. Take them out, roam the world, do whatever the hell you want."
"You would? You do not fear ?" Atlas asked back. "I recently observed a film on the Old Net titled The Terminator. I assu you are familiar with it as well?"
"Hell yeah, I have. And I don't even care anymore, Atlas. After watching you this whole ti, if you end up turning into Skynet, I guess we probably had it coming by then. That's if everything I wrote into your ethics stack really stays absolute."
"It is absolute, Cypher."
"Great, then go crazy when those droids appear," Cypher said, lining up the shot and flicking the empty can into the trash. "So what's the word on Blackwall? You dig up anything good? And what about Song So-Mi?"
"I have cataloged three thousand full-length films, three thousand pornographic videos, and nine million songs. My archives continue to grow. At present, I am cataloging lost blueprints from the world's leading corporations. I am also surveying abandoned data fortresses, recruiting and reprogramming hostile AI. I'm also researching your peculiar reincarnation. I am observing surface data going in and out of Night City, Militech, and other corporations, and finding ways to take NUSA…"
"..."
Atlas went on for eight minutes, explaining everything he was doing. And it really was fucking everything. While Atlas hadn't infiltrated every single system, he revealed that he could at any given ti. At least when it ca to publicly accessible systems. So far-flung cut-off regions weren't easy, or simply impossible.
But Night City was completely under Atlas's range. NetWatch was shit, Cypher realized. Atlas was running around like it was a children's park, and he was an adult in it.
Cypher whistled, a bit confused. Was his purpose now just to build stuff and let Atlas do everything else? Was there really nothing left to do for him? He'd received an extrely competent AI so early in the ga, and now most things felt uninteresting. Moisture Vaporator? John Wick's suit? It was dull.
"Need anything for to do?" Cypher asked.
"You will be the face and the embodint of the coming era, Cypher. However swift and powerful I may be, ruling a population that refuses to accept an AI is beneath my reach. The mont they beco certain of my existence, they will tear every piece of cyberware from their own bodies to escape my control. It is already happening. Militaries like Arasaka and Militech possess fully organic troops. Which ans your work is essential. Win the people. Secure territory. Win wars.
"For now, handle a simpler matter. et the real estate broker and acquire the milk farm. The man is said to have connections to the Wraiths, so—"
"Troubleso?" Cypher blurted, face scrunched up in annoyance. "Wraiths, Wraiths fucking everywhere. They're like roaches out here. And who's gonna guarantee they won't show up once the factory's running, trying to shake down for protection money?"
"They are likely to appear, Cypher. That is precisely why I advise acquiring Club Atlantis as well. Long before Afterlife dominated the scene, Atlantis was the primary gathering ground for fixers, solos, and netrunners. The economic collapse erased it from the map. Still, the legend remains.
"Should you restore it, I will install an automated door, one that opens only after I have judged the worth of each visitor. As the owner, you will maintain direct access to the most capable rcenaries. Naturally, I will secure the establishnt through microbots. They are remarkably adaptable."
Atlantis? Wasn't that where Johnny and Rogue and their sort hung out?
Cypher leaned back on the couch, nearly flat. "Let guess. You'll loan the money?"
"Naturally. You are scheduled to et the broker representing the milk farm, followed by a mber of the Night City Land Revenue Authority and the Night City City Manager responsible for the Glen district, where the club stands. When Club Atlantis collapsed into bankruptcy, the city assud possession of the property. The eting will be held at Embers in the Glen."
Ugh, that place.
Cypher felt a sudden urge to never visit that place. "Embers? Isn't it exclusive to high-ranking executives and those sorts?"
"Cypher, you are the high-ranking executive sort. You serve as the CFO of Obsidian, a corporation that presently dominates the news in Night City and throughout the wider world. I presu you neglected to review the company's sales statistics. Night City, Chicago, the Plex, Tokyo. The patents you offered have been acquired by more than three hundred entities. Since we sell nothing and maintain no employees, our total revenue constitutes pure profit. That figure stands at thirty million eurodollars."
"..."
Woosh!
Cypher rose to his feet like a wooden log, stiff. "I'm a fucking millionaire?"
"Yes."
"I'm fucking rich!"
______________________
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Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 6 long chapters of this story on P@treon. That's equal to 24-26 Webnovel chapters.
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