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Lin Mo sat on the worn steps of a dim back alley, absentmindedly fiddling with his katana. Every now and then, his thumb nudged the guard, just enough to draw the blade a fraction out of its scabbard, the soft metallic ting reverberating like a subtle warning.
A handful of vagrants and low-level gang members hung around, casting uneasy glances his way. The sound grated on them, but none dared complain.
Since getting his muscle grafts and those organic bone enhancements, Lin Mo had bulked up, though his frame still kept that lean, deceptive look. He was in that sweet spot—appearing slim in clothes but carrying a solid wall of muscle underneath.
Normally, someone like him wouldn't register as a threat to these street-hardened survivors. A knife to the gut, a lead pipe to the head—around here, that's all it took to drop even the toughest guy. Everyone carried something sharp or dangerous in these alleys.
But Lin Mo wasn't just another kid with a blade. The way he moved, the quiet calm radiating off him—it screamed danger. A predator among scavengers, and none of them wanted to test him.
Clang!
The blade slid out a hair more, before snapping back into place. The sound echoed, sharp and clean in the filthy alley.
In the flickering light, a faint blue-green shimmer traced the air—a blur of motion, then nothing. The few brave enough to watch squinted, wondering if they'd even seen it. The blade was already sheathed, like it had never left.
But Lin Mo's cold eyes told a different story. A fly, neatly cleaved in half, fluttered to the ground.
Seeing this, a couple of the bolder vagrants packed up quickly, fading deeper into the alley. They wanted no part of the guy who could slice a fly out of midair like it was nothing.
Lin Mo sighed, looking up at the swarm of flies and mosquitoes lazily hovering above him. To him, they moved in slow motion, their paths predictable, their wings sluggish.
"Guess it's true what they say," he muttered. "The rich get tech, the poor… mutate."
That was the power of his new Kerenzikov implant. It boosted his reflexes, making everything around him seem to crawl. His reaction time had to have jumped at least a few points, and his physical stats were probably pushing six.
Kerenzikov had another trick up its sleeve—an emergency boost during high-stress situations. A burst of heightened reflexes, slowing down time in combat for a couple of precious seconds.
And then there was the Dynalar Sandevistan, sitting at the base of his skull. He hadn't pushed that one yet, but he knew when he did, even the flies would look like they were standing still, ready to be turned into insect sashimi.
He resisted the urge for now. Wasting his new toys on bugs wasn't worth it.
Another flick of his wrist, another fly split in two.
The pile of dead insects around him grew, tiny victims of his reflexes and cyber-enhancements. Each perfect slice was a reminder of his rising abilities, of how far he'd come. This wasn't like the game, where controlling V and slicing through enemies was casual fun. This was Night City. It was real. And while he wasn't at full capacity yet, he could already feel himself getting closer to the sword master style he idolized.
As visions of the chaos he could unleash danced in his mind, he felt a surge of excitement. But he calmed himself. There was no need to get carried away.
He glanced at the entrance to Viktor's underground clinic. The operation had been done for a while now, but Hiro was still inside, getting his own cyberware checked out.
With nothing better to do, Lin Mo pulled out five injectors from his pocket, inspecting them. Immune suppressants. Vital to keep his body from rejecting the new implants.
At this stage, the drugs were like candy to him. His body still had a long way to go before it fully adapted to the tech. For now, these suppressants were a daily necessity. And with how heavily augmented he planned to get, they'd likely become a permanent fixture in his life.
Viktor had warned him—the Dynalar Sandevistan and Kerenzikov were some of the most taxing cyberware out there. These injectors wouldn't last forever. He'd be back for more soon enough.
"Why was it so easy for V to install cyberware in the game," Lin Mo muttered, injecting himself with one of the suppressants. "But in real life, it's hoops after hoops."
Viktor had told him to take it slow—one dose every half hour. It had been that long since Hiro went in.
Just as Lin Mo readied himself to slice another fly out of the air, the clinic's metal door slid open with a mechanical hiss.
Hiro stepped out, looking refreshed, like he'd just gotten a spa treatment rather than a tune-up. His eyes scanned the ground, noticing the graveyard of dead flies at Lin Mo's feet. He frowned in confusion.
"How'd it go? Viktor find anything?" Lin Mo asked, standing up and brushing the dust from his clothes.
Hiro blinked, snapping back to reality. "Viktor said some of my implants are getting old. He tuned them up, but he suggested a few high-end combat augments too. Not that I can afford them."
"Broke, huh?" Lin Mo chuckled.
Hiro shrugged, acceptance clear in his voice. "Yeah. Taking care of my sister, covering bills… it all adds up."
Lin Mo clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, offering a half-smile. "If you need cash, you know you can borrow from me."
Hiro started to protest, "I couldn't possibly—"
Lin Mo cut him off with a smirk. "Please. You'd be doing me a favor. I've got so much lying around, I can't even spend it all."