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Chapter 66 c
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 16:40:38 +0000 UTCChapter 66 c
V felt truly satisfied, and Viktor, as her ripperdoc, also felt a surge of pride.
“Of course you are—it’s a Kiroshi Eye Type-3, top of the line,” he explained with a smile. “This latest Kiroshi system is designed for the most demanding user. It incorporates cutting-edge breakthroughs in neural connection technology, giving you unprecedented visual support. It’s also got the strongest scanning algorithms on the market.
“In plain English, you’ll see farther, sharper—and you get a ten-year warranty.”
A few days earlier, after Leo and Jackie left the clinic, V had returned later that same afternoon to talk with Viktor about upgrading her optics—ideally to the latest model from Kiroshi. Old Vic had the connections to make it happen, after all; *Kiroshi Optics* was a company renowned for high-quality eyeball implants and scanners, leading the field in optical design and manufacturing. They’d love the entire world to buy their eye mods.
So, after a routine eye exam, Viktor had told V to rest for a few days: avoid taking merc jobs, computer use, or phone use if possible, and wait for an update from him. Then, this morning, V got the call—Viktor had successfully obtained Kiroshi’s best product currently on the market.
So she grabbed Leo, who in turn called Lucy, and the three of them had come to Viktor’s clinic.
…
“How much do I owe you?” V asked. “I can wire it over right now.”
“No need,” Viktor replied. “Leo already paid for it.”
At that exact moment, Leo began making frantic eye gestures at Viktor, hoping he’d realize his slip and change the subject. Viktor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Er, can I take that back? If not…maybe, V, you can just pretend you didn’t hear anything.”
But V had definitely heard. She stared at Leo. “How much? I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s fine,” Leo said simply.
Biting her lip, V tried force-transferring 100,000 eddies to Leo right then—but was immediately met with an auto-rejection notice. Her face froze; she hadn’t realized he’d already blocked that approach.
“It’s really all right,” Leo told her. “You’re part of my team. This is what I should do.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“No buts.”
V bit her lip once more, gazing down. “I’ll repay you eventually.”
“Sure.”
“…Thank you.”
“No need.”
Watching this exchange from his stool, Viktor couldn’t help shaking his head. *Kids these days…*
Then his gaze fell on the other young woman Leo had brought: Lucy. “Your turn, miss.”
Ever since they arrived, Lucy had kept her distance, hugging her arms around her torso. Maybe it was the clinic’s gloom that unsettled her, or just a natural distrust of letting someone operate on her body—but from the moment they walked in, she’d worn a subdued and distant expression.
At Leo’s gentle prodding, Lucy shifted uncomfortably. Her short, white hair swayed with the movement. She shook her head. “I don’t need it. I’m not planning on installing any new chrome.”
Leo countered, “Then at least let Old Vic do a checkup.”
“I…” Lucy ran a hand over the back of her head, her face clouded with a look of reluctant resignation.
Sensing her unease, Viktor spoke calmly. “Kid, you know that implants are like potted plants on a balcony—they need proper care. You wouldn’t want your gear to fail during a critical job, would you?”
Lucy bowed her head, silent for a few moments before giving a faint nod. “…All right.”
With a grim sort of resolve—like someone off to an execution—she walked to the operating chair and jacked her personal link into the device. Viktor studied the scan data as it filled the screen, and soon his brow creased.
“Huh… ‘Yuanfan,’ ‘Shengyu Jishu,’ ‘Military-Tech Science’… Girl, you’re practically built of knockoffs.”
Alarmed, Leo rushed over to see the holographic display of Lucy’s body. Nearly half of it was marked in red—indicating unlicensed, bootleg cyberware.
“What the hell? Lucy, you…”
She turned away, letting her hair hide her face, too ashamed to meet anyone’s eyes. Lucy had grown up in an Arasaka facility; beyond hacking skills, Arasaka hadn’t taught her much about surviving in the outside world. She’d been just a teenager, no money whatsoever, when she fled.
And it cost a lot to evade Arasaka’s pursuit as she drifted across various countries. With no savings, she had little choice but to sell off her original Arasaka implants piece by piece.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t even have made it out at the start.
Seeing Lucy withdrawn, Leo and Viktor chose not to push further. The rest of the checkup proceeded in suffocating silence. The moment it was done, Lucy yanked out her cable, didn’t say a word, and bolted out, head down, heading up the stairs.
“You’re not gonna follow her?” Viktor asked, noticing that Leo stayed put, brow furrowed in deep thought.
“Vic,” Leo said, “if we wanted to replace all that knockoff junk with legitimate gear—even if not top-of-the-line, maybe just a tier below—how much would that cost?”
“Well…” Viktor rubbed his chin. “If you’re not insisting on absolute peak gear, then the money you’ve fronted might do it. But it’s not just about eddies. A lot of these implants can’t be sourced through normal channels.”
“Not even you?”
Viktor gave a crooked smile. “I’m just a ripperdoc, not some omnipotent fixer. I can try to secure a small chunk, but for the rest, you’ll have to hire someone well-connected.”
He paused, then added, “A top-tier fixer, in fact.”
Leo sighed. “All right, then.”
He decided he’d reach out to Regina, Wakako, and Padre—the three top fixers he knew in Watson, Westbrook, and Heywood, respectively. If anyone had the best chance at hooking him up with high-grade stock, it would be them.
Right then, footsteps clattered down the stairs. The three left in the clinic glanced over, half-hoping to see Lucy returning, but instead in stepped a group of biker-jacket punks, all dressed in an aggressively flashy style.
These newcomers spread out as soon as they entered, forming a line that blocked the exit. They brandished katanas or spiked baseball bats, their biker jackets emblazoned with four Japanese characters: (“Unrivaled Under Heaven”). Only one gang in Night City had this kind of aesthetic:
The Tyger Claws.
The leader, sporting a side-swept fringe and a striking blue hannya mask, stepped forward and swept his gaze around, sizing up Leo, V, and Viktor. His thickly accented voice asked, “Which of you is the ripperdoc here?”
“That’d be me,” Viktor answered, giving them a calm once-over. “Why come all the way out to Watson? Doesn’t the Tyger Claws have their own ripperdocs?”
One of the gang members behind the masked man barked, “Less backtalk! When we ask, you answer—got it?”
The masked leader raised a hand to silence his subordinate. Then he turned his eerie mask back toward Viktor. “A few days ago, a woman came here with a little girl. She asked you to remove something. Am I right?”
