"This world's wild. The bigger the jungle, the weirder the animals. Never thought I'd see a robot using optical camo and mantis blades to go on a murder spree. Really opens your eyes."
Listening to Oliver mix up idioms in a chaotic stream, Karl considered correcting his Chinese… then thought better of it.
Because honestly? The situation was bizarre enough.
Are robots rare?
Not at all. They're everywhere.
But robots with cyberware?
That's a first—even for Karl and his crew.
In this era, cyberware means human augmentation: mechanical components implanted into the body to enhance or replace functions.
Sounds simple enough—"enhancement gear"—but it's always meant for humans.
Even the Maelstrom psychos and Adam Smasher are still biologically human at the core. But a robot? What's the point?
A robot doesn't need to be retrofitted with human-shaped cyberware. It can be built with whatever components it needs from the start. And honestly, there's no reason to make them look human. Most of them don't need legs—treads are often more efficient.
So grafting cyberware onto a robot?
That's like saying cats are naked without clothes and deciding to put pants on them.
If it's just for aesthetics, fine. But this bot wasn't designed to look cool. Its gear was clearly for combat. And giving it human-style cyberware—especially complex ones like mantis blades—just made it even weirder.
"Exploding mantis blades. Rotating detachable arms. What the hell?" Jack muttered, shaking his head. "Good thing T-Bug didn't see this. She'd probably want to upgrade Ball-Ball the same way."
"I was wondering how it had optical camo and subdermal armor… turns out it was just camo. Underneath, it's all metal."
V frowned, watching Karl extract data from the robot using a monowire. "Still, its data defenses were trash. Karl gave it a mild prod and it shorted out."
"Humans at least have a brain. Some resistance," Jack shrugged. "But robots? Fully mechanical. Makes them easier to take over. Some rogue AI could probably hijack this thing even faster than Karl did."
"Now I get why megacorps still use humans over robots," Oliver said.
Then, noticing Sesen move slightly, he quickly stepped over. "Mr. Sesen, please don't wander off. We're not done scanning the area."
"I understand." Sesen nodded, then glanced at the closed door nearby. "I was just thinking… with all that commotion, the person I came to meet still hasn't responded. I'm starting to wonder if something's happened to them."
"Scan's complete," Karl said, retracting the monowire.
"The robot's memory was wiped clean. All I could recover were directives: kill, search, and clear ambush sites. When I checked its encounter log, I found something you'll want to know, Mr. Sesen."
Karl turned toward the door the robot had exited.
"That robot killed someone in the hallway—probably your contact. Then it dragged the body into that room. But it made a mistake: it entered the wrong apartment. It was supposed to go to the one across the hall."
"Since it couldn't find a bed to use as a 'dump point,' it got stuck in a loop. It just kept waiting, trying to fulfill its 'cleanup' directive. Then we showed up ten minutes later, and it resumed Directive One: eliminate witnesses."
"So… by coincidence, we avoided an ambush?" Sesen asked.
"Pretty much," Karl nodded. "If we'd walked in and found your contact's body laid out on a bed, we'd have been distracted. That thing could've launched an attack while cloaked, and things would've gone very differently."
Karl had only reacted in time because of the blood trail. Without it, he wouldn't have died—but it would've been messy. Jack had been point man. Even with his sharp instincts, his bulk would've made him a target.
"Is that all the robot contained?" Sesen asked.
"That's all I could access. As for its manufacturer or cyberware supplier? That's not my area. You'll need someone else to dig deeper."
Sesen paused for a moment, then nodded. "I want to see the room."
As they approached the unit the robot had emerged from, the metallic tang of blood thickened.
When they finally stood at the doorway, they all went silent.
The room was bare—no furniture, no decor. Just walls and dust.
In the middle of the floor lay a mangled corpse—torn, broken, smashed. It had been flung around like a ragdoll. The dull gray surroundings were splattered with deep red.
Clearly, the robot had been searching for a bed and—finding none—had repeatedly lifted and dropped the body, smashing it into pulp in its attempts to "complete the cleanup protocol."
"Damn…"
Jack exhaled, face grim.
"Now I really get why the corps fear AI and robots."
No matter how cyberized a person becomes, there's still some trace of humanity left—even if it's madness, even if it's rage.
But machines?
They're rigid.
And cold.
-
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