"As long as you can hear me, let's start working!"
Thailia didn't have time to address the surprised look on Lucy's face. There wasn't a convenient explanation for what he had just done, and right now, he had more pressing matters.
Making money was the priority—quickly and efficiently.
Throwing a hood over his head to obscure his appearance, he glanced back. "Stay close. If you're too far, I won't be able to stay connected."
"Hmph. You're the one who wanted to cooperate, remember?" Lucy muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. Still, she hurried to follow. "Hey, wait up, Thailia!"
Lucy directed the selection of targets from behind, while Thailia silently carried out the work ahead.
In that moment, it was reminiscent of a scene from Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.
However, unlike David's reliance on military-grade prosthetics for speed and precision, Thailia moved with quiet efficiency, relying solely on his natural composure and his magnetic abilities.
Thailia walked ahead, his movements calm and silent, while Lucy followed close behind, selecting targets and directing him through their improvised communication link.
Unlike most thieves or edge-runners who might make flashy displays or rush their work, Thailia's approach was deceptively simple. Hands tucked into his pockets, hood down, and posture relaxed, he moved like any other passenger.
Passing by Corpos and etc who is lost in conversation or dozing in their seats, that he struck silently.
Light footsteps. A momentary pause. A quiet magnetic pulse.
It was subtle—undetectable. The only trace left behind was the absence of the chip from the slot behind the target's ear.
Thailia's ability to manipulate magnetic fields worked perfectly here. Though he couldn't yet control large objects, the compact size of the chips, with their integrated circuits, made them ideal targets. By adjusting their magnetic fields to an 'N' polarity and his own to an 'S' polarity, the chips practically leaped into his hand.
Lucy, observing from behind, was both impressed and perplexed.
"Is this guy for real?" she thought.
As they passed through carriage after carriage, the train continued hurtling through the city. Neon lights flickered through the windows, illuminating the two in brief, rhythmic flashes.
In silence, they moved, their figures swaying with the motion of the train.
It was almost poetic—their quiet cooperation, the precise rhythm of their movements.
But Lucy wasn't here to stand and watch. She had one goal: survival.
She watched Thailia's efficiency, her expression shifting from curiosity to something closer to disbelief.
"Six carriages," she thought. "He's not even breaking a sweat. Even if I were at my best, I'd be able to handle seven or eight, tops."
By the time they passed through ten carriages, her amazement turned to suspicion.
"This guy… Is he a pro? A corporate-level thief?"
Finally, the train slowed, and the automated announcement chimed:
"Ding-dong! Passengers, please note: Little Chinatown Station is next. Please prepare to disembark."
"Oh, we're at the station," Thailia said casually, standing by the doors. He turned back to Lucy. "Shall we get off here?"
Lucy quickly masked her astonishment and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."
As the doors opened, they silently blended into the crowd, walking out of the station like ordinary passengers.
The streets of Little Chinatown greeted them, bustling with life. Modern cyberpunk architecture fused with the traditional designs of the China from the past, creating a unique blend of neon-lit chaos and nostalgic charm.
Graffiti marked the walls, and the streets buzzed with vehicles, street vendors, and people from all walks of life.
Thailia led Lucy through the maze of streets, eventually ducking into a quiet underground parking lot. It was the perfect spot to avoid prying eyes.
Once they were alone, Thailia dropped his hood and casually emptied the contents of his coat pocket onto the ground.
Clatter!
A pile of microchips tumbled out, their surfaces gleaming under the dim fluorescent light. Each one bore the unmistakable logo of Arasaka Corporation.
Lucy's eyes widened. There had to be at least forty or fifty chips in the pile.
At a minimum of 1,000 eurodollars per chip, this haul was worth a small fortune—easily 40,000 to 50,000 eurodollars. And that didn't account for the credit chips mixed in, which could contain even more money if decrypted.
Thailia crouched, surveying the pile with satisfaction.
"That should be enough to cover the Frog second trip," he thought to himself, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
In Night City, there was no future in honest work for people like him. But illegal money? That was something else entirely.