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Over the next few days, Lin Mo carried a laptop with him everywhere, using the compact device to stay constantly connected to the Net and monitor the stock market.
As a market whale who had poured a massive amount of eddies into stocks, he did have a personal investment manager—but due to the need for secrecy, all trades and transactions were executed by Lin Mo himself.
The so-called manager was really just an assistant.
Lin Mo understood one key principle: never put all your eggs in one basket.
To minimize risk, he'd gone through considerable effort—getting even Wakako to lend a hand—to set up five anonymous bank accounts.
His entire fortune was split across these five accounts, each with a different purpose. One was dedicated solely to stock trading.
Whenever he had downtime, Lin Mo would go online to check stock market trends and keep tabs on global high-stakes betting events.
Sports betting, in particular, was a lucrative source of income for him.
After several days of obsessively tracking the stock market and gambling results, even David began to wonder if his friend had lost it—he was glued to his tablet after every class.
Yet despite all the effort, the simulator didn't show any updates about stock market movements or betting outcomes for the next day.
"Making money isn't that easy," Lin Mo muttered after two days without receiving any useful data from the simulator.
It almost felt like the simulator was deliberately messing with him. For two days, it showed nothing related to stocks or gambling trends.
Text entries like, "You wasted a day observing the market, with no gains," or "You glanced at the stock trends, but nothing significant changed," casually dismissed his actions.
Still, Lin Mo wasn't in a rush.
Using the simulator to earn cash was a case of "nothing for years, then a windfall." If he raked in big money every day, someone would eventually take notice.
Especially NetWatch—the digital watchdogs of the Net. With their eyes always on large-scale financial movement, consistently huge profits would raise red flags of AI involvement.
So Lin Mo stayed patient. He could run the simulation once a day, and checking the stock market during his downtime wasn't exactly a chore.
Eventually, his persistence paid off. On Wednesday night, the simulator finally gave him the intel he was waiting for.
He bought shares of a stock that was projected to rise, and by Thursday, sold them at a peak.
The returns weren't staggering—just three or four percent.
Still, that translated to a few million eddies in profit.
With that deal wrapped up, Lin Mo set aside the laptop, paused his trades, and didn't try to chase the next opportunity.
Doing something like this once a week was already pushing it—any more and it would be greedy.
...
Friday came, and Lin Mo took a rare day off to stay home.
Xu Wanxue had come back the previous night. After a short chat, she hurried back to her company.
"Tomorrow, that woman will come to implant the remaining bio-components. You're skipping school—I already got you excused. Be sure to treat her properly... Actually, if she dies, don't bother. And don't get tempted by that 'femme fatale' face of hers! Even if she strips in front of you—Don't! Get! Interested!"
That was Xu Wanxue's parting warning.
It was also the first time Lin Mo had seen her so serious. Combined with her words, it was like she was scared her precious cabbage was about to be devoured by a red-haired pig.
Lin Mo had no choice but to swear up and down that he would act like Tang Seng from Journey to the West—pure of heart and mind—unshaken by the seductions of any red-haired temptress.
Still, Xu Wanxue didn't seem fully convinced. She even threatened his place in the household.
If Lin Mo got entangled with Liu Ruoying, he'd be kicked out for good.
After some more discussion, Lin Mo finally managed to persuade her to go to work without stressing over what might happen at home.
From her, he also learned that she wouldn't be coming back for the next few days. Her research on cyberware had hit a bottleneck, and she needed to be physically present at the development site.
Lin Mo recalled her saying something similar two weeks earlier—something about the Qiantai Sandevistan Mk.4 nearing completion, and that she'd have more time for him soon.
But based on his understanding, that kind of "soon" usually meant at least a month or two.
"Looks like I'll have to wait a bit longer for my precious Qiantai Sandevistan Mk.4," Lin Mo sighed.
The more advanced models didn't just slow down time—they also came with auxiliary features not available in the game.
His current Dynalar Sandevistan Mk.3 came with muscle tension boosters and combat assist protocols.
The Mk.4 wasn't the highest-end version—there was also the Mk.5 'Reality Warp'. But in truth, the Mk.4 was the most practical speedware.
Its biggest selling points? Long duration and short cooldown.
Add a few extra internal cooling vents, and you could theoretically stay in a permanent time-slow mode.
Sure, in-game mechanics don't always translate perfectly to reality. But a cyberware mod that useful in-game couldn't be complete trash IRL.
"If I'm just dealing with low-level gang punks, the current speedware is enough. But if I want to become top-tier... it's still far from enough."
Sitting on the second-floor balcony, Lin Mo gazed out at the road beyond the estate walls, waiting for his guest and thinking deeply.
Even with Sandevistan active, he wasn't invincible.
Large-caliber smart turrets with AI targeting, tech weapons, electromagnetic rifles, smart guns, homing missiles—all of them could still do serious damage.
Tech had evolved. The days when a solo cyberwarrior could dominate the battlefield alone were long gone.
Lin Mo couldn't even be sure he'd last long against Night City's most infamous legend—Adam Smasher.
"Still, there's time. The main storyline hasn't kicked in yet. By then, I should have leveled up my attributes," he thought.
Ding!
A soft horn sounded at the estate's gate. Lin Mo looked up and saw a dark gray Mizutani Shion Harrier parked outside.
"Well, my guest is here," Lin Mo said with a smile, linking to the estate's network to open the front gate.
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