Chapter 102: That Ancient Brain-Deck Needs an Upgrade!
November 6th, 2075. The end of the year was fast approaching.
Thanksgiving was just around the corner, and Christmas was only a month away.
Even a shithole like Night City caught a little holiday spirit this time of year.
People from all over the world ended up here, and Christmas was the one holiday almost everyone celebrated. Rhys was no exception; he'd spent several Christmases with the Mox.
How did the Mox celebrate? Mostly with a metric ton of booze and an all-night rave. Susan usually handed out bonuses to the girls, so it was the biggest event on their calendar.
Infected by their enthusiasm, Rhys had started looking forward to this "gaijin holiday" too.
Watson, Northern Economic Zone Apartments.
Rhys stepped out of his door, fully dressed, cap pulled low. He glanced at the door across the hall, thought for a second, then walked over and rang the bell.
This was a decent apartment complex in Watson, close to both the Afterlife and Lizzie's Bar.
They'd moved here because of Rogue.
This was technically her turf. A lot of her intel brokers and fixers lived in this building.
So, essentially, it was a "company dorm" for Rogue's people.
Maine's entire crew had moved in here—except for Lucy.
Her lease in Heywood wasn't up yet, and being a netrunner, she had a lot of specialized gear to move. It was taking some time.
But she'd already picked out her unit. The building only had four floors, and Rhys's crew had taken over the third.
Rhys was in 314. Sasha was directly across in 307. Lucy had claimed 315.
Rebecca had also snagged a room for herself, 308... she refused to live with her brother Pilar anymore.
Before, they shared a place because they were broke. Now that they had eddies, and Rogue had hooked them up with cheap rent, why the hell would she live with that gonk?
Compared to Santo Domingo or Heywood, rent in Watson was dirt cheap. The reason was simple: location.
Watson was ground zero for the old nuke blast. The northern part was a wasteland of abandoned industrial parks and slums. Add in the rampant gang activity and the high concentration of mercs, and it was the last place a normal civilian wanted to live.
Maelstrom, Tyger Claws, Animals, Scavengers, Mox...
Honestly, aside from the Voodoo Boys isolating themselves in Pacifica, and the Valentinos and 6th Street holding down Heywood and Santo Domingo, Watson was home to every flavor of scum and villainy in the city.
So, despite being next door to the City Center and having hotspots like Japantown and Kabuki, Watson was definitely not family-friendly.
"What is it?"
The door across the hall creaked open. Sasha poked her head out, wearing pink pajamas, her hair a messy bird's nest. She blinked at Rhys, still half-asleep.
"Did you... stay up all night again?" Rhys reached out, smoothing down a stray tuft of hair.
"Mmhmm. Binge-watched a show last night. Lucy recommended it. It was pretty good," Sasha yawned.
Then she grinned mischievously. "I know what she's doing. Recommending shows so I stay up late and don't sneak into your room..."
Rhys rolled his eyes. "Who's sneaking into whose room?"
"You've got the stamina, you make the rules," Sasha murmured, biting her lip. "Can I borrow your bike key? I need to go out."
Rhys had planned on taking her with him, but seeing her swaying with exhaustion, he decided against it. "Where are you going?"
"Going to pick up my car. I closed a deal with Captain Muamar a couple of days ago. Bought a ride for seventeen thousand eddies." Rhys grinned, excited.
A car... he'd been in this world for years, and he was finally getting his own wheels!
He didn't have a license, but... that didn't stop him from driving.
Plenty of people in Night City drove without licenses. Half the cars on the road didn't even have valid registration.
They were either salvaged from scrap heaps or bought from shady dealers.
Who could afford a new car at dealership prices?
"Oh..." Sasha nodded sleepily. She retreated into her room, which was a stark contrast to Rhys's.
The apartment building was old, the interiors drab and gray. Rhys's place looked like a depressed bachelor pad. Sasha's room, however, was warm and cozy.
She was an otaku, after all. Decorating was in her blood.
A moment later, she ran back out, holding a small pink acrylic chip between her fingertips—fingernails painted a soft blue.
"My bike's in the garage. Just press this, follow the sound... actually, too much hassle. Turn around." She tapped him on the shoulder.
Rhys turned. Sasha stood on her tiptoes and slotted the chip into the port behind his left ear.
Her eyes glowed yellow. "Seriously, you need to upgrade your neural link. This thing has almost zero functionality. The Mox really cheaped out on you, huh? Is this model from the 2020s?"
Rhys scoffed. "I was lucky to get one at all. I didn't pay for it."
Korna and Susan didn't know he'd turn into a super-soldier. When they took him in, they just wanted to help a stray kid.
So, he got the budget model.
"This link... hacking you is laughably easy, but any netrunner who gets inside is gonna be confused as hell. Besides the optics driver and basic comms/banking, there's nothing here. I can't even install a daemon or a backdoor." Sasha complained.
As a netrunner, she knew what she was talking about.
The fewer implants you had, the harder it was for a netrunner to mess with you.
Neural links connected your implants to your brain. If you just shoved chrome into your body without linking it to the nervous system, it wouldn't work.
So, hacking a low-tech brain like Rhys's... you couldn't really hurt him. You could shut off his eyes, block his calls, maybe eavesdrop.
Steal his eddies? Ha. That required biometric authorization. You weren't hacking Rhys; you were trying to hack Orbital Bank or Rothschild. Good luck with that.
Deep-fry his brain? Since the link wasn't connected to deep-brain functions or heavy chrome, there was nothing to overheat.
"Done. I installed the driver. Go to your contacts, find the special icon, and tap it. My bike will come to you."
Sasha handled all the crew's network security. She could mess with any of them whenever she wanted.
Like Rebecca. Despite all her high-end chrome, Sasha had set up her firewall. One glare from Sasha, and Rebecca would be bricked.
"Your bike is that advanced?" Rhys asked, surprised.
"Advanced? You're just old-fashioned!" Sasha pushed him away playfully. "I'm going back to sleep. I'm dying."
"Okay, okay. Sleep well." Rhys laughed, letting her shove him out the door.
He headed downstairs.
They'd been back in Night City for over a week. Rhys and Maine had finalized their plans for the future.
First, after consulting Gloria, they decided on two businesses.
Gloria's Shop: She'd return to her old trade—selling weapons and implants—but now with a storefront in Watson.
Rogue had suggested it. For a hundred and fifty thousand eddies, Rhys could open a shop right next to the Afterlife.
A weapon shop next to the Afterlife?
Was there any better location?
Seven out of ten people walking into the Afterlife were mercs!
You could put a pig behind the counter with a price list, and it would sell out. And Gloria was a hell of a saleswoman.
Maine agreed immediately. He emptied his personal savings to buy the lease.
As for stock, Gloria wasn't worried. The net was full of people selling used gear. It was mostly junk, but that's where Pilar came in. He'd repair, refurbish, and upgrade the scrap.
Buy low, fix it up, sell high. Classic.
So, Business One: A shop next to the Afterlife.
Security Company: Gloria suggested they open a legitimate security firm.
The crew was strong. Rebecca, Maine, and Jackie had all leveled up thanks to Tigress's training. Jackie was a natural street fighter, a dead-eye shot even without chrome. With a military-grade Sandevistan? He was a monster.
The netrunners could take freelance contracts, managed by Gloria, who had the corporate contacts.
So, Business Two: A security company in Night City.
Why did Gloria know how to do all this? Besides combat and hacking, she had maxed out her [Business] skill tree.
She'd sent David to Arasaka Academy on a scavenger's income. With Rhys's crew as muscle and Rogue's network as backing, she was unstoppable.
There really is truth to the saying: an elder in the house is a treasure.
(Even though Gloria wasn't actually old; she was about the same age as Maine. She'd had David before she was 18.)
Besides business, Maine and Jackie were recruiting.
Not just mercs, but gangers.
Early this morning, Maine, Jackie, and Dorio had gone to meet that guy... what was his name?
Ah, Bones. Chris Libiston.
Maine was going to recruit him for the security company. Even though they didn't have an office yet.
Who cared? It was a start-up.
In a city where fists did the talking, as long as you had the strength, the rest didn't matter.
Why didn't Rhys go?
Because Rhys wasn't a talker.
Maine called him stoic. Jackie called him mysterious. Pilar said he was just trying to look cool to pick up chicks.
Rhys reached the garage. Following Sasha's instructions, he opened his contacts. There was a new icon: a pink cat wearing sunglasses and an earring.
He tapped it. Five seconds later, an engine roared to life.
A pink, aggressively cute motorcycle drove itself out of a parking spot and stopped in front of him.
Rhys narrowed his eyes. Wonder if I can get this installed on my new car.
He straddled the bike and called Captain Muamar.
"Yeah?"
"Captain, can I come by now?"
"Of course!" Muamar laughed loudly. "Perfect timing. Your car just got prepped this morning. Come to this address in Santo Domingo. I'll wait for you."
"On my way."
Rhys hung up and revved the engine, speeding out of the garage towards Santo Domingo.
"Finally... I'm gonna be a car owner!"