Rebecca drove that weather-beaten Goodwood, engine emitting near-tearing roars, carrying Cairo and herself racing madly toward Night City.
Cairo's massive frame nearly filled the passenger seat, dark red robes clashing with the vehicle's chaotic interior.
The servo-skull hovered quietly in the back seat, ghostly light in its eye sockets flickering in the dim interior.
Rebecca's heartbeat almost synchronized with the engine's roar.
She gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, occasionally glancing through blurred tear-filled eyes at that silent red figure beside her.
Cairo remained exceptionally calm, optical sensors coolly scanning the rapidly passing desolate scenery outside gradually replaced by dense, dilapidated yet neon-flashing megastructures.
The air began mixing with ozone, exhaust emissions, cheap spices, and some indescribable urban metabolite complex—this was Night City, gradually overlapping with fragment information in his database and distant gaming memories, but more real, raw, oppressively tangible.
"Almost there... Watson District, 'Thousand Needles' clinic, Glen's place..." Rebecca's voice still trembled.
She jerked the wheel hard. The car charged into an alley piled with garbage, dimly lit, screeching brakes drawing several wary dog barks and peering from a window.
The car stopped at an inconspicuous shop's back door, neon sign flickering with misspelling—"Thousand Needles Modification & Repair."
Rebecca practically leaped from the car, stumbling as she shoved open that reinforced metal door requiring force.
Cairo bent to exit the vehicle, servo-skull silently following.
His towering figure immediately attracted several ill-intentioned gazes from the alley's shadows, but those crimson optical lenses merely swept casually—the cold inhuman aura made those gazes instantly shrink back.
The clinic interior was more cramped and chaotic than outside. Air mixed with strong disinfectant, burnt circuits, cheap lubricant, and a trace of unmaskable blood scent.
Various unknown model, suspiciously sourced second-hand or scrapped cyberware parts piled on shelves or in boxes, nearly filling every corner.
An old medical chair and simple operating table occupied the center, covered in new and old stains.
A tall, thin man with disheveled hair and sunken eyes frantically operated a life monitoring device, trying to stabilize the dying Pilar on the operating table.
He wore a filthy leather apron, arms exposing crude homemade data interfaces.
Dorio was also there, arms crossed leaning against the wall, face grave. Seeing Rebecca and Cairo enter, especially Cairo's attire, surprise and doubt flashed in her eyes.
Pilar on the operating table was paper-pale, breathing shallow, abdomen covered with thick, blood-soaked gauze.
He was connected to several humming crude devices showing extremely unstable vital signs. The air retained strange smells of burnt tissue and melted metal.
"Glen! How is he?!" Rebecca rushed over, voice shaking.
The ripperdoc called Glen raised his head, face full of anxiety and helplessness, sweat soaking his temples.
"Rebecca... thank God you're here... I... I did my best! Bleeding temporarily slowed a bit, but internal organ damage too severe, neural bundles completely fried, infection index off the charts! Plus those damn inferior cyberware fragments... I can't do anything here... unless immediately sent to major hospital, with highest-grade..."
His voice cut off abruptly, gaze fixed on Cairo behind Rebecca, especially that hovering servo-skull, mouth slightly agape showing disbelief.
"This... who is this?"
"Glen, don't ask! This is the boss, he can save Pilar! Boss, please!" Rebecca practically sobbed, placing all hope on Cairo.
Cairo ignored Glen's astonished gaze, walking straight to the operating table.
His optical lenses rapidly conducted comprehensive scans of Pilar. The visual interface instantly cascaded with damage reports detailed to nanometer level: situation critical, consistent with Rebecca's description, slightly worsened by Glen's crude preliminary treatment.
Cairo raised one hand, interrupting Glen's potential questions.
His voice transmitted through the face mask, steady without ripples: "Situation assessed. Can be handled. Need to clear area, maintain absolutely sterile environment."
"Sterile... sterile? In here?" Glen looked at his chaotic, bloodstained clinic, thinking the other was joking.
Cairo didn't explain.
Blue light flashed in the servo-skull's eye sockets. An invisible low-power bacteriostatic UV field and air purification waves rapidly spread from it as center, precisely enveloping the entire surgical area.
Simultaneously, several slender, precise mechanical tentacles elegantly extended from beneath Cairo's robes, tips flickering with various precision medical tools: high-frequency laser scalpel, nano-sutures, tissue regeneration induction probe, microscopic matter extraction claw...
Glen and Dorio's eyes widened, shocked speechless by this technological display beyond their comprehension.
"Servo-skull, assist scanning, real-time vital sign monitoring, provide optimal surgical path planning." Cairo ordered.
"Instructions confirmed." The skull responded, jaw opening and closing, projecting clear holographic images perfectly displaying Pilar's internal damage in three dimensions with astonishing detail.
Cairo's surgery began.
His movements were faster than human visual capture yet carried mechanically absolute precision and elegance.
Laser precision cutting, nano-probes skillfully removing fragments, regenerative energy stimulating tissue to heal rapidly, nano-machines even repairing and optimizing damaged neural networks and antiquated inferior cyberware interfaces at microscopic levels.
Glen was completely stunned, his tool clattering to the floor.
Like an apprentice, he greedily yet bewilderedly watched each incomprehensible operation, unconsciously murmuring: "Impossible... this precision... this technique... unheard of..."
Dorio also held her breath. The scene before her completely clarified Rebecca's confidence source.
Rebecca tightly covered her mouth, tears silently falling, but eyes filled with rekindled hope.
The surgery lasted less than an hour.
When Cairo retracted his last mechanical tentacle, the terrible wound on Pilar's abdomen had vanished, leaving only barely visible traces of new skin.
His complexion returned ruddy, breathing steady and strong, even appearing healthier than before injury.
Cairo retrieved an injector from beneath his robes and handed it to the servo-skull—inside was his self-made synthetic agent rich in nutrients and energy matrix, injecting into Pilar's neck vein: "Wake him."
The agent took effect extremely fast.
Pilar's eyelids trembled several times, slowly opening.
He first looked blankly at the ceiling, then unconsciously touched his abdomen where a massive hole should be.
"I... I'm not dead?" His voice was somewhat hoarse but clear and strong.
"Pilar!" Rebecca lunged to the operating table edge, crying and laughing.
Pilar tried sitting up—this action made Glen gasp—but Pilar easily did so, even surprisingly moving his limbs and waist: "My God... feels... feels amazing! Like a new person! All those little problems before seem gone?"
He looked at Cairo, eyes full of awe and gratitude: "Boss... it was you..."
Cairo nodded slightly: "Part of the transaction. Remember the 'medical fees' your sister promised."
Only then did Glen recover from extreme shock. He excitedly stepped forward, voice trembling: "Sir... Master? You... how did you do that?
This technique... this is simply miraculous! I... I've been in Watson for over a decade, never seen... dare I ask you..."
His gaze burned with desire for knowledge and reverence for absolute technique.
Cairo's crimson optical lenses turned to Glen, calmly appraising him.
This ripperdoc's technique was crude, environment shabby, but he seemed to have tried his best, and the thirst for technology in his eyes was genuine.
Perhaps... cultivation potential, an acolyte who could execute his will here?
But he didn't immediately respond to Glen's excited inquiry, merely saying flatly: "Your methods urgently need standardization, knowledge requires updating."
With that, he no longer looked at Glen, instead addressing Rebecca and Dorio: "This place isn't suitable for staying. Take him back for twenty-four hours rest, adapt to new neural interfaces."
His attitude was cold and direct, as if what he'd just completed wasn't a miraculous revival but merely routine equipment maintenance.
This contrast further highlighted his unfathomable depth.
He said no more, turning toward the door, dark red robe hem sweeping the floor.
The servo-skull silently followed.
Rebecca quickly nodded, helping the still-adapting Pilar up with Dorio.
Glen stood in place, watching Cairo's red figure disappear outside the door along with that pale hovering skull, heart surging with tremendous waves.
He knew that what he'd witnessed today completely overturned his understanding of cyberware medicine.
That mysterious master's last words were like cold water, yet also like faint starlight guiding toward unknown realms?
He opened his mouth, ultimately unable to say anything, heart unable to calm for a long time.
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