Michael 'Magos' Sobronov
The Dogtown black market was bafflingly lively even in the early afternoon, appearing more as a grand shopping center than the clandestine exchange it was supposed to be. It was located within the walls of a mostly finished stadium where the residents made good use of the planned in house shops to position their own businesses.
It wasn't as crowded as a gabuilding floor, but it was still just as loud, and just as violent as there was at least one gunshot per couple of minutes, at least in the corners not directly watched over by BARGHEST mbers.
The gangoons in question eyed suspiciously but tried nothing as I slinked deeper into the structure, keeping my posture coiled and ready while window shopping without a care in the world in truth.
There was sothing to be said about the absurdity of that statent but it would have to stay a hypothetical as my Optics zeroed in on a large smattering of stalls taking up nearly an entire section of the stadium wall, lined with weapons stacked up on top of each other.
And behind the counter stood a man so cyberized I was almost tempted to call it respectable if not for the fact most of it looked like flimsy show ware at best, and poorly maintained at that.
The man was dressed in bright colors and jamming to sothing only he could hear, but the mont I approached he perked up, twitching minutely as he did.
"Welco, welco." His cheerful voice was synthesized, coming from a modulator on his jawless tal face "You look like soone who knows his way around the big guns." He spreads his arms "And Harold is happy to provide."
But despite all the 'interesting' bits, my focus remained on his digital presence "You are... connected to every single weapon on display, with direct feedback." I pointed out slowly.
"Well yes!" He jerked/hopped up, raising a finger into the air "Can't have gonks stealing my stock! Terrible for business."
"That... doesn't seem healthy."
"Haha-ha." His laugh turned slightly nervous by the end "Don't worry about it. What can I get ya?"
Well if you want to kill yourself, who am I to stop you?
Not answering imdiately, I gave myself a mont to look over the stock, finding mostly tech weapons with charged munitions, and most of them of good quality.
"Get that Nekomata." I pointed at a well maintained sniper rifle "And bring out those launchers you got under the counter."
Harold giddily acquiesced "You have a keen eye my friend." He placed the sniper on the counter before crouching and plopping a drum fed grenade launcher and a square rocket launcher next to it "The Nekomata is a standard model, but it sells for a good reason. So long as you set yourself up you'll smash through anything thinner than an armored AV."
"Preem." I nodded "Know about any modifications to push it past the AV?"
He giggled like an excited schoolgirl, rubbing his hands "Oh there were a bunch of attempts at turning this bad girl into a cannon, and so even worked! But the internals just weren't made for that kind of stress so it usually ends up exploding in a person's face or becoming too heavy to use as a sniper."
'Rebuild the whole thing out of titanium, got it.'
"Nah, this baby is already optimized." He patted it before adding conspiratorially "Though if you manage to make sothing work, be sure to send pics, I adore a creative soul."
"Sure, I'll take it. What about the launchers?"
"Ah, these two beauties." He shoved them a bit further forward, giving a better line of sight and revealing the rocket launcher to be a four barrel one "The Ironhand Mk 3 grenade launcher, and the Groundhog RPG. Gifts from my buddies in BARGHEST, old style war horses. Not a bit of software in them."
"So no guidance systems but also no hacking."
"Exactly." He snapped his fingers "You can load these bad boys up with anything that fits and chances are they'll be able to send it flying. Most folks don't like them cos they can't sinc in with them but I'd bet my next BD a profesh looking fellow like you would be able to make it work."
I gave him a dry look but still wired him the price stated on the shop's localnet "I'll take them."
"Supreem!" He clapped and brought out a duffle bag "I'll toss in the bag as a freebie since you are such a big spender. Blow so Scavs for , won't you?"
I grinned at that "It would be my sincerest pleasure."
Twenty minutes later while I was eyeing the scrappy little park in the stadium field proper, I felt an odd unfamiliar sll and stopped, turning to see a small shop nestled in a secluded corner with an alert goon trooper guarding the entrance.
She didn't say anything as I approached and passed her but the implicit threat in her stare made it clear no fucking around would be tolerated.
What I found inside was... definitely not whatever I was expecting, as I found myself standing surrounded on nearly all sides by slly narrow cages holding... were those actual chickens?
"Ah good day my brudda!" A heavyset man beckoned "Couldn't miss the delicious sll of Eduardo's rch, eh?"
"It is certainly a sll." I said absently, still looking at the cages "I'm surprised this place exists."
NC was strict about birds for incredibly stupid reasons, as due to a no doubt fabricated plague scare every single bird anywhere near the city had been annihilated, making this place sothing straight out of a history book.
And a dealer's wet dream.
"Dogtown has its advantages my man." He grinned "Ya lookin' to buy? Is good quality brudda. Only 10k eddies per head, Eduardo's seal of approval!"
"I wouldn't even know how to defeather the things." I thought aloud. There was no point in even asking him to sell live ones, that would be incredibly stupid on his end.
"Ah, no problem, no problem." He waved down "Eduardo will do da thing, ya just need to say da word." He leaned in and winked "Won't find betta cock anywhere in Night City."
"That was fucking terrible." I held back a groan "I'll take three."
"Aha!" He grinned, pointing at "Knew ya looked like good biz de mont ya walked in."
"Got a portable freezer for sale too?" I asked "Won't be leaving imdiately and I don't want these spoiling on the way."
"Nah." He shook his had and then pointed outside "But my other brudda does, hes the one with tha scrap shop."
"Got it." I nodded "Be back in a bit."
"Ah, not so fast brudda." His brows furrowed "Can't be cuttin if you wonder off. Bad for biz."
'Not sure if I won't just fuck off after rethinking the price, huh?' I quirked an eyebrow but shrugged "Fair enough, Ed. I'll wait."
His grin returned and he got to work.
By the ti I was done with my shopping trip, the sun had mostly set and Dogtown had transford from a scene of devastation to a bright colorful ss, the skyline of towers now joined by an exceedingly long AV with Kurt Hansen's face plastered onto large displays to its sides.
"Soone has a bit of an ego problem." I chuckled as I drove up to the gate and left Dogtown behind , for now.
-----
The apartnt was empty when I got back, it was sunday so Gloria was free, mom was chilling over at Regina's 'hidden' base doing bodyguard work, and 'Becca was off doing a solo gig for Wakako.
Sothing she had been doing more and more often in recent weeks.
I felt very silly when I found out the two had known each other for years, the old Fixer having helped her and Pilar out at one point or another.
The old coot might not be willing to stick her neck out for the pair again but she was still all too happy to toss gigs Rebecca's way, so at least I could be secure in the fact no overeager Tygers were going to bother her when she was off galivanting on her own.
Because for all she would deny it if I ever said it aloud, ever since her upgrades, and since she moved back in with , she had started slowly distancing herself from her crew.
It was not intentional, or even conscious, on her part, but what with spending her ti in the relative luxury of my ho, and being able to complete ti sensitive gigs much more efficiently and risk free than the slow clunky rhythm of a crew, she simply... drifted.
Well, drifted from most of them anyway, because after a while Yakovleva started following her around on the jobs and it looked like they made for a good team on their own, already developing sothing of a reputation between the two of them.
Even if it wasn't one for any degree of subtlety.
I had felt zero sha in admitting I was all too happy at this developnt.
The fact I had made peace with Maine did not matter, the man was still a futureless hothead, destined to et the sa fate all the rest of Night City's rcenaries inevitably did and an obvious chro junky besides.
I preferred my partner nice and alive, and for a very very long ti thank you very much.
Seems my thoughts were still tainted by my first impression of the guy...
How childish.
Placing the portable box freezer next to the fridge, I flicked through my notifications, my eyebrows rising as I saw a ssage from Ward, informing he got promoted to Lieutenant in the NCPD after his boss had a case of the corruption blow up in his face.
"Looks like you took my advice after all." I muttered and quickly typed out a congratulatory ssage, inviting him for a few drinks when he had the ti so we could celebrate, quickly getting his agreent followed by a raincheck.
Good, he wasn't stupid enough to believe no one would try and imdiately smack him down.
Hopefully he manages to keep rising, having an ally in the higher echelons of the NCPD will never not be useful.
Still typing away I strolled down to my workshop, tossing my weapons onto an empty table, set a compiler to work finding viable Nekomata mods, before approaching the separate section dedicated to my drone work and pulling out the proven Vigile Mk 1.7 model from my backpack, and placing it between a pair of Servitor Mk 3.6 models.
They took so real finagling to get to work, and they weren't even fully finished yet...
But I wasn't so impatient as to make tiny AIs for them. Fuck that noise.
"Begin disassembly sequence on object no. 1773." I voiced and the two drones, about twice the size of the Vigile but similarly shaped with two added claw hands hanging off their front, got to work thodically ripping their 'cousin' into its constituent parts.
And to my satisfaction, they managed it without damaging any of the components, even if they ended up splayed out without any sense of order or organization.
Still I reminded myself, progress was progress.
"Might be ti to start work on actual combat models." I muttered as I began examining the hacker drone's bits for any damage or strain, finding nothing worth a redesign in the process.
But by this point my mind was already drifting to possible combat designs.
Right now I could place anything I wanted onto a modified platform, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, heavy machineguns, big bombs, I could beco about a hundred tis as deadly while just sitting on my ass a click away, sipping beer.
"One step at a ti." I cut myself off from another thought spiral "A simplified Wasp design will do for now. You can make a grey goo event happen later."
"Begin reassembly sequence." I voiced and turned away from the drones, uploading a string of designs to my free 3d printers for my first combat model before moving to a separate workshop within the workshop that I had walled in with only myself having the access to what was inside.
And I was right to be paranoid, as the components splayed out across the squeaky clean table were worth over three mil, five mil now that I added my most recent purchase.
Hell, I used gold for so of the larger bits of circuitry and that was for the auxiliary components.
The case containing the borom alloy chipwork hit the table with a satisfying thud, and I got to working my art.
Thankfully I had already planned out and compiled all of the necessary software months ago, and the design was simply waiting for the final addition so assembling the... cyberzikov? kerendeck?-
The yet unnad implant.
-it was relatively simple. Needing only a few adjustnts for the extra space efficiency I got from the 'miracle alloy' before the finished product stood before .
Grinning widely, I very nearly jumped the thing if not for the sudden spike of irritation at the reminder I was still wearing my skin.
It was like a bucket of cool water poured directly onto my head, and just in ti as I rembered to go through multiple structural checks and software boot cycles while I got rid of the useless sli sticking to .
Before the hour was out, I was back in my trusty old servo chair, and I felt my Artifex remove the Umbra from the back of my head, ripping away my connection to the net with it.
I had not felt this naked since I got a facefull of EMP.
Just barely I managed to keep my composure, taking a deep breath before commanding the chadendrite to complete the process.
Every second I waited felt like an hour but I remained patient, and then with a jolt that nearly made rip my way out of the chair, I felt myself reconnect.
The connection was raw, violent, so much so for the briefest mont I felt the entire weight of the net's data press against my mind, a weight that disappeared just as quickly as I saw a familiar notification appear in my mind's eye.
[Umbra Mk 2.13 'Minerva' Cyberdeck/Kerenzikov hybrid installed successfully.
Cyberdeck: 54 Tb RAM, Direct Net Interface, Self VoidBlackICE, Ergency Heatsink, Daemon Autocompiler.
Kerenzikov: Passive Perception Enhancer, Passive Reaction Booster, Active Perception Accelerator.
Companion Shell: 4 Super Processor Clusters, Self Contained Persona Core, Ergency Disconnector, Ergency Data Scourge.]
I gave myself a minute to get used to the clearer sensation of connection before attempting my first test.
I didn't even have to fully focus on the simpler commands, I rely thought about wanting to disconnect from the servo chair and the machine detached with an imdiate click, the stream of data cycling back to my Cyberdeck before dispersing.
Grinning my true grin, I moved on to the Kerenzikov.
I removed a shotgun shell from my combat bandolier, tossing it into the air and not pushing the active part of the implant yet.
And I felt a wave of profound satisfaction rush through at the effects of my work.
Ti still moved at the exact sa pace, but I could follow each and every twitch of the shell, each tumble through the air as it ascended, stopped, and began to plumt, it went so far I could observe the tiny indents left in the plastic shell by my Cyberarms when I grabbed it.
Catching the shell, I breathed out, closed my eyes, and tossed it up again.
And then I activated the Kerenzikov properly.
Ti slowed to a crawl, each second feeling like a small eternity as the shell sailed up, and yet my mind remained perfectly clear and active, able to move at the sa pace despite the dilation.
Feeling a wave of excitent, I moved on to the next part of the test, and pushed my hand up, willing it to grab the shell.
What happened next would have probably torn my fleshy cheeks to pieces as a downright deranged grin spread on my face when I realized my hand moved quicker than it should be able to.
Not perfectly in tune with my accelerated perception, of course, it wasn't nowhere near that level, but still beyond specifications, and beyond all reason as I felt no protest from the cyberware as the shell ended up in my grasp before finishing its ascent.
Just then I heard a loud warning beep in the back of my head and the implant deactivated on its own, purposefully programd to do so for this first test.
I ignored the twinge of annoyance and braced myself, but aside from a tiny wave of nausea no great headache struck , which only made more suspicious about potential damage if I was being honest.
Things were supposed to follow common sense!
...But just because it was common didn't an it was universal.
Or such was the excuse I gave myself.
Now for the final part of the Minerva, the processors were multipurposed and could work with the Cyberdeck perfectly well, but that was not their main purpose.
They had not been designed for my direct use.
No, they were there to be used by my future... 'companion'.
Alongside half a dozen failsafes and backups ant to murder every single trace of said companion if it decided to get ideas about free will of course.
I was of course talking about an on board AI.
The reasonable expectation was that it would be a very long term project once started but with my connections and ability to purchase the relevant infoshards, the process of creating an artificial intelligence was deceptively easy, if not particularly simple.
Almost suspiciously so, as it took only three months to set everything up without triggering too many alerts in any curious observers.
I was still reluctant, but I also needed a weapon to face all the world could offer when I tried reaching for more, angry corporations, rogue AI's, whatever the fuck was buried under Dogtown... Even the Voodoo boys if they turned out to be stupider than I expected.
But trusting a superintelligent infant to watch my back was simply not acceptable.
In the end, there was only one person I could trust with this.
With gritted teeth and spiteful determination I plopped my ass back into my chair.
And injected my brain with a stream of advanced nanites, beginning the scanning process.
-------
Moar-o rock!
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