This kind of thing?
Well, damn!
Reading the events on the simulator's screen, Lin Mo first felt surprise and confusion—then a rush of unexpected delight.
What a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. After so many days of running through this job over and over in the simulator, tonight it had finally paid off.
It was like grinding a game endlessly and finally breaking through the boss stage. To say he wasn't happy would've been a lie. Lin Mo actually breathed a sigh of relief.
Even if it wasn't his own strength but a fluke that got him inside, it was still the payoff of countless daily simulations.
And lucky, too—if he'd skipped tonight's run, he would've missed the perfect timing for tomorrow.
"Can't wait any longer. Tomorrow night's the best chance. If we hesitate, after this attack Arasaka Waterfront will double down on defenses, and trying again will be ten times harder."
He pressed his chin and thought carefully.
Because it was an unforeseen event, "he" in the sim hadn't been prepared. When he reached the Waterfront perimeter, the suspected Animals crew was already locked in a firefight with security.
If he'd been ready, he would've acted at the very start of their assault.
The beginning meant the first stage.
If he had his team waiting there, then once the Animals hit, all of Arasaka's alertness would spike. Normally, bad for a stealth op. But with "decoys" facing them head-on, heightened alert meant all firepower would focus on them.
For infiltrators, that was good news.
"Strike while the iron's hot; delay weakens the blow." Lin Mo knew the saying well.
To maximize this twist, he had to launch the infiltration right as the decoys started their assault.
With that, he jumped up, went to his desk, and began revising the plan.
On the margin of the paper he wrote Lucy, circled it, and added a big question mark.
"Judging from the simulator's text, Miss Lucy's hiding quite a few secrets..."
She could bypass Arasaka ICE like it was nothing.
That meant, without doubt, she'd had some connection to Arasaka in her past.
Given her apparent age, her hostility toward Arasaka, and her solid netrunning skills, the guess wasn't hard:
Lucy was likely trained by Arasaka—or, at the very least, hurt by them badly enough to have studied their systems for revenge.
But everyone had secrets. If they didn't want to talk, Lin Mo wouldn't pry.
Even with Sasha's Biotech incident—if she hadn't told him herself, he wouldn't have asked.
He only cared about one thing: whether they were useful to him.
After a few more adjustments, a yawn hit him. He dropped onto the bed.
The next evening. Twilight painted the sky in golden hues.
Corporate Plaza. Arasaka Academy. Classroom.
The bell rang; the AI teacher spoke the last word of the lesson, then instantly bowed out with mechanical courtesy. Its projection blinked away.
Lin Mo exhaled, face relaxing like someone finishing a grueling trial. Torture over at last.
He stood and glanced at David beside him. Without hesitation, he smacked David's ass hard, earning a pained glare.
Grinning, Lin Mo asked:
"Well? Ready for tonight? Your mom won't be breathing down your neck, right?"
"You're the boss, I'm the employee. How could I not follow orders?"
David's reply dripped with mock annoyance. Taking advantage of Lin Mo's smirk, he tried to slap back—but Lin Mo easily caught his hand.
Foiled, David sighed, pulled back, and muttered, sulky under Lin Mo's smug look:
"I already cleared it with my mom. It's fine if I come home late."
"Good. Let's go. Everyone's probably waiting at Lizzie's."
Lin Mo patted his shoulder, and the two quickened their pace to the parking lot.
Moments later, a Caliburn tore down the road toward Watson.
Lizzie's Bar.
The dance floor blazed neon, light beams weaving a tight net. The crowd was buzzing—some dancing in the flesh, others sunk into BDs on couches, lost in another world.
In a place like this, everyone could find their fix: real dancing, virtual escape… or a quiet corner to talk shop.
Inside a packed VIP room, the air was oddly silent as everyone sized each other up.
The sofas split the space cleanly in two: Maine's crew on one side, Jackie's ragtag bunch on the other.
Two heavyweights stared each other down across a sunken glass table.
One wore shades, face grim.
The other smiled politely, calm.
Their shared trait? Both were built like slabs of meat.
Sasha sat behind Jackie, posture straight, hands folded neatly, a helpless smile on her lips. She met Dorio's gaze across the way.
The blonde shrugged and spread her hands: nothing she could do.
Meanwhile, Rebecca, pigtails bouncing, stood between the two men, gleefully playing referee. With mock-serious authority, she shouted:
"Ready… go!"
Jackie slammed his beefy arm down. Maine matched him, equally fierce.
Their hands locked, their arms like tree trunks, straining side to side.
"Maine! Don't tell me you skipped dinner! Put this big lug down already!"
"Big guy, you can't lose! C'mon, Little Lin Mo looks up to you! If you lose, he'll be crushed!"
Rebecca's devilish voice fanned the flames, eyes sparkling with mischief.
But the competitors stayed focused. Jackie's smile faded; sweat beaded on his brow.
Maine wasn't exhausted, but surprise flickered across his face.
At first, they were dead even. But slowly, Jackie began to falter.
No surprise. A flesh-and-blood arm, no matter how trained, had limits. Cyberarms didn't.
Maine's arm was chrome. The synthskin couldn't hide the faint scrape of metal under strain.
In the end, Maine won.
Jackie's bitter smile appeared as his arm was forced down. He shook his head, regretful.
But Maine's look held no arrogance—only genuine respect.
"Holding me off that long with meat alone… You're Jackie, right? No wonder Lin Mo rates you. Hell of a 'bro.' Damn shame they don't let you into Afterlife. Guess the bouncer doesn't know shit."
He laughed loud, clapped Jackie on the shoulder.
"Man, I've trained this arm over a decade," Jackie said with a grin, self-deprecating. "Lin Mo jokes it's got thirty years of cultivation. But against chrome? No contest."
"Nah, don't downplay it. Chrome's got its perks, but you? Not bad at all. I bet even in Afterlife, there aren't many like you."
Maine then looked toward a lanky green-skinned guy with ridiculously long cyberarms. Sneering, he pointed:
"And him? That's Pilar. With those skinny twigs, he wouldn't last three seconds against you."
Called out, Pilar snapped back:
"These are precision cyberarms! For experts, not meatheads like you! Why don't we test handiwork instead of brute force, huh? My hand speed leaves him in the dust!"
Rebecca snorted, cruel as ever:
"Yeah, 'hand speed'… Everyone knows you waste your days jerking off at home till you're hollow. And now you brag?"
"Rebecca! Whose side are you on?" Pilar shouted.
Their bickering reignited the room, laughter breaking the earlier silence.
In the corner, Kiwi, the red-haired netrunner, sighed. To Dorio, who was smiling at the scene, she muttered flatly:
"Too loud. I'm getting air."
Dorio nodded. She knew Kiwi didn't hate noise, but rarely joined in.
Kiwi left. The hallway outside was a wash of neon.
Without soundproofing, the pounding club music hit her ears hard.
"Loud as hell..."
She lit a cigarette, leaning against the wall. Smoke curled from her mask filters.
She was halfway through when she noticed a commotion.
A shy-looking boy approached, led by a Mox girl. Before leaving, the Mox traced a teasing finger across his chest.
"Hi, I'm David. Lin Mo told me to come here."
Kiwi recognized him—she'd seen him once before.
"They're inside. Go on."
She nodded at the door. As David moved to enter, she asked:
"By the way… where's the client?"
"He drove me to the station, then told me to take the train alone. Said he had to pick someone else up."
Kiwi nodded again, saying nothing.
David scratched his head, steadied himself, and entered.
The door opened and shut, and Kiwi heard the noise inside cut off sharply—everyone's attention drawn to the boy.
She could imagine the questions he'd face. Not her problem.
She finished the cigarette, stubbed it out, and turned back—
Only to catch, in the corner of her eye, a familiar figure approaching down the hall.
That familiar white hair.
Kiwi stopped, turned, and watched her come closer.
"Lucy? You too?" she asked, surprised.
"What else? The boss told me to come. I'm not about to ignore him." Lucy's voice was calm. She countered: "Why are you out here?"
"Fresh air." Kiwi smirked. "Didn't think you'd be working for that kid too. Guess we're all here for the same reason tonight."
"Yeah. He told me on the way." Lucy's eyes stayed flat.
"And him?" Kiwi asked.
"Chatting up the receptionist. Said he'll be in later. Told me to go ahead."
Arms folded, Kiwi leaned back.
"I've heard bits about him in the team. Curious—what's he got you doing?"
Lucy's face flickered, a trace of discomfort crossing her features. The pay was good, sure… but the work itself? Not something she liked to talk about.
Still, it beat scavenging trash. At least this was a normal gig.
"Don't want to say?" Kiwi pressed.
"It's confidential," Lucy cut off.
Kiwi's eyes narrowed. If not for the mask, she might've smiled.
"Shame. You've got talent. When Maine brought me in, I thought of recommending you as backup netrunner. Too late—he got you first."
"Thanks," Lucy replied evenly.
"Don't mention it. In this city of lies, I don't have many friends. You're one of them. Remember what I told you?"
Lucy sighed.
"I remember. Don't trust anyone here. Anyone can betray you. The only one you can trust is yourself…"
"Good. Keep it close," Kiwi said.
"What are you two talking about? Not going in?"
The sudden voice cut them off.
A boy walked toward them with a steady stride and a polite smile.
-
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