Street-level prayer chants wove through cigar smoke and incense, the mixed scents making Kasper's enhancement ports burn hotter. He pressed his forehead against the Bounty Hunter Association bar's cool window, watching neon-lit processions thread through Costa del Sol's twentieth floor catwalks. Different enhancement signatures pulsed through the haze – Circuit's warm gold tech, Ghost's ancient war hymns, Team Vector's predatory crimson.
His hands trembled as he reached for the aguardiente Santos offered. The rejection was getting worse.
"Setenta y dos horas, mi amigo." Santos steadied Kasper's grip, tactical cores painting blue light across old scars. "Most rookies don't last this long. Especially not with parliament blood on their hands."
The wall screens kept replaying their victory – corrupt officials stumbling as Rivera's strike team breached their defenses. Team Vector whooped as their entry point collapsed in perfect sync.
"Finally put those parliament dogs down," Rico from Team Phantom growled. His enhancement signature flared angry red as he spat.
Carmen's crystal mods caught neon as she cuffed him. "Show some class, pendejo. We're professionals."
"Some of us, anyway." Circuit slid onto the stool beside Kasper, her hands steady for the first time in hours. Her eyes caught his tremors. "The rejection's getting worse."
"I've got it handled." Another port flared. He couldn't hide the wince.
"Like Sarah had it handled?"
The glass creaked in Kasper's grip. Circuit touched his arm, their enhancement signatures harmonizing. "Lo siento. That was cruel."
His comm pinged, neural pathways burning with each message:
"These rich kids think daddy's money makes them fast." Sean's text crawled past his retina. "Should see their faces when they lose. Miss having real competition, hermano. Don't let those Costa del Sol shadows eat you alive."
"Your readings are critical." Maria's clinical tone cut through data noise. "Lucas modified the suppressants. We're swamped but monitoring. Por favor, be careful."
Ghost dealt cards for Last Stand, enhancement signatures shifting odds. Circuit read power fluctuations like poker tells, cleaning house. Team Phoenix's dancing drew others in, tech pulses painting light shows through smoke. The celebration felt unreal after weeks of pain and preparation.
The balcony's night air hit Kasper's ports like ice water. His call connected instantly.
"Parliament's still bleeding." Valerian's aristocratic drawl carried an edge. "Not bad for a rookie hunter."
"Save it." A Crimson gunship rippled past, stealth systems bending light. "Your warning saved lives. Why help the guy who complicated your Sarah case?"
The silence stretched until Valerian's voice dropped its polish. "The Syndicate was watching her. I played politics, kept quiet. You found her first." A breath. "Some debts don't wash clean. But I'd rather not watch another friend die because I played it safe."
Kasper let out a short breath, ports flaring. "Can't deny good intel when it saves lives. Thanks." His fingers traced the scar where Sarah's first enhancement had gone in. "Still watching you though, you aristocratic bastard."
"Wouldn't expect anything less." Almost amusement there. "The storm that's coming... you'll need those trust issues."
His father answered next, exoskeleton humming. "Your mother hasn't left the feeds. That parliament hit..."
"New calibration working?" Kasper touched burning ports.
"Better. Isabella's got your touch for mods." Heavy pause. "Girls miss you."
"Soon." The lie tasted like metal.
"Terrible liar, hijo." Softness beneath worry. "But we're proud anyway."
Inside, Ghost painted air with battle maps, ancient protocols making windows hum. Circuit's technical edge kept her winning at cards. Three teams had joined Phoenix's impromptu dance party, enhancement signatures weaving light shows.
"To seventy-two hours." Ghost raised his glass, war hymns joining salsa beats.
"To the team." Circuit's warm gold pulse.
"To justice served cold." Santos's tactical blue.
Kasper watched celebration lights play across his trembling hands. Tomorrow meant more hunts, more pain, more questions about Sarah's fall. But tonight was for victory, for his new team, for surviving when others hadn't.
His comm pinged one last time. Unknown sender.
"Congratulations on the parliament raid. Sarah would be proud of your progress. Looking forward to meeting in person. - Director"
Kasper's ports burned white-hot as enhancement rejection hit full force. The celebration sounds faded beneath sudden static.
Some victories were measured in hours lived.
Some shadows watched and waited.
And Costa del Sol's void hungered for fresh sacrifice.