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When Lin Mo said with complete seriousness, "I want to become a legend," Xu Wanxue froze for a few seconds. Then, she couldn't help but burst into laughter.Her reaction was much like that of any typical parent watching their child say something like, "I'm going to be Ultraman and defeat all the monsters."
Amusing, endearing, and somehow heartwarming.
"Oh? And how exactly do you plan on becoming a legend?"
Xu Wanxue hugged her knees, a playful smile lighting up her face as she looked at Lin Mo.
She remembered those times when Lin Mo used to sneak off to some secret hideout, training in what he considered "serious." But to her, it was nothing more than child's play. In an era where cyberware ruled everything, physical conditioning felt pointless and outdated.
Even the Animals, those muscle-bound cyberpsychos obsessed with raw strength and animalistic instincts, didn't train like that. Sure, they were jacked beyond belief, looking like walking walls of muscle. Xu Wanxue often joked to herself that their brains were probably made of muscle too, judging by how dull they seemed.
But even the Animals weren't foolish enough to rely on old-school physical training. Their methods were much more extreme—relying on synth-steroids, combat stims, and neuro-boosters to build strength rapidly, paired with brutal electroshock exercises that forced their bodies to adapt at hyper speeds.
This reckless use of tech and drugs resulted in them gaining the strength of literal beasts—brutal, unstoppable forces of nature.
When Xu Wanxue first caught Lin Mo "training" physically, she worried he might eventually resort to using similar dangerous enhancements.
Fortunately, he never did.
Otherwise, she couldn't bear to see her little brother transform from a sharp and smart kid into some bloated mass of muscle—a twisted version of himself.
Faced with Xu Wanxue's amused skepticism, Lin Mo didn't bother explaining. Instead, he simply turned and walked back into the house, returning a few moments later holding a ruler.
"Hold the top. I'll put my hand at the bottom. When you let go, I'll catch it," Lin Mo said.
"Measuring reflex speed, huh? Not bad. We do tests like this all the time at work," Xu Wanxue said.
She immediately recognized the purpose of this little game and was happy to play along.
With both of them ready, Lin Mo positioned his hand at the bottom of the ruler, eyes focused and attentive. Xu Wanxue gripped the top, waiting a moment before suddenly letting go.
To her astonishment, the ruler didn't fall. It remained suspended in midair, as if gravity had been momentarily disabled.
She looked down.
Lin Mo had caught it effortlessly, his fingers grasping the bottom of the ruler almost instantaneously. It hadn't dropped even half a centimeter.
"Reflexes that fast… Did you get a Kerenzikov implant? No, your spine shows no signs of cyberware installation," Xu Wanxue muttered, her expression shifting to disbelief.
Kerenzikov, known as a "reflex booster," was a piece of cyberware that had been around since the Time of the Red, much like the Sandevistan.
If the Sandevistan was a merc's sharp sword, the Kerenzikov was their defensive shield, enhancing their ability to dodge with heightened reflexes.
The Kerenzikov took the form of a long spinal module, often nicknamed the "cyber-centipede" because of how it wrapped along the spine like a segmented metal insect. To install it, you had to replace parts of your original spine, which left a very noticeable ridge down your back unless you had syn-skin grafted over it.
In the Cyberpunk universe, the Kerenzikov allowed users to slow down time in high-stress moments, though not to the same extent as the Sandevistan, which could offer more precise control over time-slow effects.
Lin Mo was intimately familiar with it. But as with many things from the Cyberpunk 2077 game, the real-world functionality of these implants wasn't quite as black-and-white as the game's numbers and rules.
Where the Sandevistan granted complete, player-controlled time-slow, the Kerenzikov passively heightened your reflexes, making everything around you appear slower only when your body went into fight-or-flight mode.
"Kerenzikov only kicks in when you're in a heightened state of stress. But for me, my reflexes are naturally this fast," Lin Mo explained.
Setting the ruler back on the table, Lin Mo suddenly felt a chill. Glancing up, he noticed his sister eyeing him intensely, her gaze full of excitement.
"My brother is truly exceptional. If the researchers at QianTech had half your talent, we'd be lightyears ahead in cyberware development," Xu Wanxue said, her voice brimming with admiration.
If she'd found anyone else with such talent, she wouldn't hesitate to pull strings to get them enrolled in the company's experimental trials. But this was her brother, and there was no way she'd let him be used as a guinea pig.
Lin Mo blinked, curious. "Wait... Does a person's natural talent really affect their ability to use cyberware?"
Xu Wanxue twirled a strand of her hair, sipping her wine before deciding to indulge her brother's curiosity.
"It does. And it's one of the hardest challenges we face in R&D. Every person's physiology is unique, which makes it difficult to standardize cyberware performance. Our data shows that individual talent—especially in reflexes or neural capacity—directly impacts how well someone can handle certain cyberware."
"For example, people with exceptional reflexes are far more compatible with Sandevistan or Kerenzikov. While most users can only trigger these systems a few times per day, the more gifted individuals can use them dozens of times without issue."
"And that's not all. People with high neural reflexes can even experience heightened time-slow effects when using Sandevistan. While a standard Mark II might slow time by 50%, for a more gifted user, it could reach 60% or even 70%."
Lin Mo furrowed his brow. "Why is that?"
Xu Wanxue shrugged. "The human nervous system is incredibly complex. Do you think the world works like a video game? You can't just assign stats to people and expect consistent results."
She continued, "The standard Mark II Sandevistan is calibrated based on a broad spectrum of test subjects, averaging their abilities. So, while it says it slows time by 50%, that's really just an average. For some, it's less. For others, it's more."
Lin Mo nodded thoughtfully, understanding.
He had been thinking about cyberware as if it operated the same way it did in the Cyberpunk game, where everything had fixed values. But humans weren't machines—there was always variability.
Time-slow effects weren't going to be a guaranteed 50% every time.
Suddenly, a thought struck him. "So, does this mean that the higher-tier Sandevistan models, like Mark III, would be too much for most people to handle?"
Xu Wanxue gave him a surprised look, as if wondering how he had figured that out.
"Your instincts are sharp as always," she chuckled.
No, it's just game knowledge… Lin Mo thought, keeping his face inscrutable.
In Cyberpunk 2077, higher-tier cyberware required certain stats to equip. Based on what Xu Wanxue was saying, while anyone could technically install advanced cyberware, their ability to handle it would vary depending on their natural talent and physical limits.
Xu Wanxue sighed, swirling the wine in her glass. "You're right. The higher the model, the more strain it puts on the body. There's a huge difference between the Mark I and Mark II Sandevistan, and the Mark III is in a whole different league."
"We've run countless tests, not just in our labs but with data we've gathered from other corps. No one—no matter how gifted—has been able to handle the Mark III Sandevistan without suffering severe side effects."
Lin Mo frowned, thinking back to the game.
In Cyberpunk 2077, the Mark III Sandevistan required a 12 Reflex stat to equip—a level of skill that was beyond human limits without the help of other cyberware.
In this real-world context, it meant that only those who reached that level of talent could use such cyberware without breaking down from the strain.
He suddenly realized that this might be true for other cyberware as well, not just the Sandevistan.
Lost in thought, Lin Mo barely noticed when Xu Wanxue came over and gently ruffled his hair.
"Mo, you don't need to burden yourself with all of this," she said softly. "You've got me, and you don't need those dangerous implants to get what you want."
"If you wanted the stars, I'd find a way to bring one down for you. So why take unnecessary risks?"
Her eyes were full of warmth and concern as she looked at him.