"Wuhu! This girl doesn't hold back her punches!"
The prosthetic doctor, lounging on his operating chair, adjusted the Black Chaomeng equipment he had just received. The faint hum of machinery filled the room until the door swung open, revealing David standing there, panting heavily.
"Huh? Is that the Sian Weistein everyone in the city has been hunting for?" the doctor remarked, his eyes gleaming as they locked onto the military-grade prosthetic in David's hands. "What a rare piece of tech."
The doctor's tone shifted, a greedy undertone creeping in. "But I've told you before, kid. This thing is dangerous. You'd be better off selling it to me. I'll give you 10,000 Eurodollars for it."
The offer was a lie, at least in part. While it was true that the Sian Weistein was dangerous, its value was far beyond what the doctor was offering. For mercenaries who lived on the edge, this prosthetic was akin to a second life. He could easily flip it for double or triple the amount.
"I said," David growled, his eyes dark and unyielding, "I want it installed on me."
The prosthetic doctor hesitated, meeting David's glare. The boy's expression was predatory, like a wolf ready to pounce. His desperation was palpable, fueled by a singular purpose: to put the prosthetic on and crush Katsuo Tanaka.
"Tch, you're just a kid who doesn't know the limits of your own body," the doctor muttered, shaking his head. But after a moment's pause, he sighed and agreed. "Fine. I'll do it. But don't come crying to me if you can't handle it."
By the time the installation was complete, the sun had already risen over Night City.
10:00 AM, Arasaka Academy
David walked into the classroom, his pace slow but deliberate.
"David Martins, you are marked late," the monotone voice of the classroom's projection robot announced, its words cutting through the low hum of the room.
The declaration drew the attention of Katsuo Tanaka, who turned to see David entering. A smug grin spread across Katsuo's face.
"Hey, look who finally showed up! Our perfect little honor student, late for class?" Katsuo sneered. "What happened, David? Couldn't drag yourself out of—"
Before Katsuo could finish, David's foot slammed into the chair Katsuo was sitting on, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Are you insane?!" Katsuo shouted, struggling to his feet. "This is a school! Everything here is monitored—"
David's fist cut him off, slamming into Katsuo's jaw with a force that echoed through the classroom.
"If you've got something to say," David hissed, his voice low and cold, "say it to my face. Repeat what you said yesterday. I dare you."
The chilling tone in David's voice sent a shiver down Katsuo's spine. For the first time, the bully felt genuine fear. But fear quickly gave way to indignation, and Katsuo lashed out, his fists moving in a blur thanks to his combat-enhancing chip.
"Ah, da-da-da-da!" Katsuo yelled as his punches flew toward David.
Katsuo expected David to crumple under his assault like he always had before. But this time, David vanished from his line of sight.
Boom!
Before Katsuo could react, David's fist slammed into his face with the force of a speeding train, amplified by the kinetic acceleration of the Sian Weistein prosthetic. Katsuo flew backward, crashing into the classroom wall with a sickening thud.
"Ugh!" Katsuo groaned, clutching his broken nose. "What the hell kind of prosthetic is that? You're finished, Martins! My dad's on the school board, and I'll make sure you're expelled!"
David stared at the once-arrogant Katsuo, now reduced to a trembling mess. The satisfaction he'd expected to feel wasn't there. Instead, he felt empty, almost bored.
"Do whatever you want," David said calmly, turning to leave. "I don't plan on staying in this garbage school anyway."
His revenge on Katsuo was complete. Now, his sights were set on something far more significant: joining Peter's mercenary team.
Elsewhere in Night City
"You scum-sucking organ thieves. You'll even stoop to kidnapping now?"
Jack's voice dripped with disdain as he stood over the lifeless body of a scavenger. He kicked the corpse for good measure, spitting on the ground beside it.
"I hate these bastards," Jack muttered, his tone venomous.
Scavengers were the lowest of the low in Night City. Ruthless and opportunistic, they preyed on the vulnerable, harvesting cybernetics and organs to sell on the black market. Human life meant nothing to them; it was merely a collection of parts to be dissected and sold for profit.
"Jack, that's enough," Peter called from the edge of the balcony, his tone measured.
Peter's target for this mission—a wealthy heiress named Sandra Dorsett—was lying unconscious nearby, rescued but shaken. The team had extracted her from the scavengers' den, completing their job efficiently.
Peter stepped back into the room, his mind preoccupied. This mission was significant. It marked the beginning of something larger, a series of events he knew could change everything.
"Has it started already?" Peter murmured to himself.
V, who stood nearby, noticed the faraway look in Peter's eyes. "Something on your mind?" she asked softly.
"Just thinking," Peter replied, shaking his head. "It's nothing."
Peter didn't elaborate. He was the only one who knew the truth, and there was no point in burdening V with it. Instead, he focused on the present. The team's success today was just the beginning.
For now, all Peter could do was prepare. Night City was unpredictable, and survival meant staying one step ahead.
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