Night City’s Club Afterlife was too bustling.
It wasn’t about the crowd size, but ever since Lille had entered, no small fry had shown up, which left Rogel feeling rather conflicted—
On one hand, all the visitors were corporate executives, on the other hand, none were there for her...
Military Technology and Arasaka had arrived together, and they left together as well.
Still, an old friend had also made an appearance.
Once again, Kantao Company sent soone to sponsor Lille, which complicated matters...
[Little Octopus: Big brother, the physical examination report is out; V’s nervous system indeed shows signs of regeneration.]
This was unexpected and directly gave Lille no reason to accept Kantao’s stingy sponsorship.
In most cases, an adult’s nerve cells can’t regenerate; once nerve cells die, the damage is permanent.
V’s Si Anweisitan’s inability to break through the 20% theoretical acceleration limit was largely due to this reason.
The last bout of Cyberpunk-induced ntal illness had burned a significant number of neurons, causing much of Si Anweisitan’s computing power and enhanced currents to divert to other muscle areas, ensuring that the necrotic nerves wouldn’t result in partial paralysis or movent inaccuracies.
Simply put, the ability of nerve cells to tolerate electrical and other stimuli was converted into functional compensation, preventing any further improvents in the Ti Stop Effect.
However, in the battle against the Full Body Cyborg at the Slaughterhouse, Little Octopus noticed that V’s limit seed to have loosened, prompting Lille to imdiately have old Vic run a check on V.
And that’s what they discovered upon examination.
Kantao’s proposal was straightforward: Test our new Reality Distortion Chip and technologies for us.
Even in the Cyberpunk World, nerve damage is a very advanced dical problem—
But not incurable.
There is a thod involving the permanent repair of damaged nerves using Nano Robots and nanomaterials, essentially a prosthetic replacent at the cellular level.
However, it’s usually very expensive, and typically part of a long-term repair project.
Most importantly, this technology is exclusive to a few Japanese dical giants...
Arasaka is one representative of those.
"What, you have this technology too?"
"This is a prototype chip, immature, but since you freaks keep inserting things into your bodies anyway, I guess you’d be dying to have it."
Having said that, he glanced at Lille’s chanical arm; obviously, such conspicuously body-altering and cheap-looking prosthetics are not sothing to be proud of in high society.
They were akin to the bizarre earrings and tattoos of the Marvel World.
However, for the working masses of the Cyberpunk World, prosthetics were their tools of labor, and many were oddly shaped largely because they were black market or self-assembled low-grade products.
To et demands, sotis sacrifice is necessary.
The chip from Kantao was quite unique, its scan-reflective hue slightly different from normal chips. A nano-scale scanner would reveal electrically responsive nanomaterials attached inside.
"This thing is like a capsule. You insert it into the neural interface, and when the current flows into the nerves, the materials inside are released and adhere to the corresponding nerves with the current. If everything goes well, the nerves should recover fully within six months."
The Kantao representative speaking didn’t bother to explain the technology’s origin.
But Lille was 90% certain that they had stolen this technology from Arasaka.
According to the original storyline, by now they should have started making contact with a senior engineer at Arasaka.
Seeing Lille unmoved, the representative arrogantly put on his sunglasses, "It’s a prototype. If this technology stabilizes, it might save your life, so think carefully."
In reality, he was suggesting that Lille use V for experintation.
A person with clearly high reaction values ans her nervous system is more active and complex than the average person, making her a pri experintal subject.
Lille’s short lifespan in Night City is no secret, so obviously, Kantao considered this a win-win.
However...
No sooner had the man in black got up to make a suave exit than a voice ca from behind him.
"Go fuck yourself."
Who knows how many traps they embed in their "gifts"?
Snap.
The improperly locked box smashed onto the ground, narrowly missing knocking the chip out.
The expression on the Kantao representative’s face turned grim in an instant. The security guards at the door, witnessing the scene, grew stern as well, slight buzzing emanating from beneath their suits.
"Careless fool..."
"Cough, cough." Rogel leaned against the wall opposite the door, "The exit is this way."
The representative gestured to the security guards at the door, who picked up the items, and the group left the place.
"Such a temper, huh?" Rogel addressed Lille in the private room, "Isn’t this a golden opportunity to make a score?"
"Not everything is worth scoring." The chanical arm opened the personal equipnt box beside him, and Lille took out a neuroactive agent and injected it right next to his neural interface.
This was a newly installed prosthetic, its special pressurized pipeline structure accelerating the spread of the drug into the body, enhancing its effects and shortening the ti it took to work.
The Unrestricted Full tal Racing had a large scale, and the various gang factions working for him each had their own style, so managing them was indeed a brain-taxing affair.
He was now receiving signals from various city zones simultaneously. Although the data density was not high, sotis these things that couldn’t be thought through with code were more ntally draining.
Most importantly, a lot of work was going on in another world as well.
Seeing Lille like this, Rogel suddenly said, "The first ti I t you, you were a sick atbag, and in a few months, you’ve turned into this. You really work yourself to the bone, even if you weren’t sick, your kind doesn’t live long."
"Sotis, living too long isn’t a good thing either."
"Don’t know how many would agree with you there, but a lot of people have started joining the ranks of the death-defying."
Rogel was well-inford. If Lille was the most open among the gangs, she was the most connected among the middlen.
Without corporate interference, once the two sides cooperated, gathering information beca quite easy.
For instance, how bustling the black market and the illegal clinics were recently.
It had to be said, if the corporations and others who had no intentions to race still harbored doubts about this plan at first, they had now learned to embrace Burger King—
the money might be blood-stained, but it sure was easy to earn.
After transferring the data, Rogel asked Lille a question, "Why go through all this trouble? You don’t seem like soone who’s content simply toiling for a company. Is it for the thrill? Or... to catch an AI?"
"You’re quite inford." He packed up and walked out of the room.
The mont he stepped out of the private room, the nightclub quieted down a bit—
To be precise, the voices stopped.
Long alien chanical arms, a black heat-dissipating leather coat, two magical boxes filled with tools that could turn defeat into victory.
Lille looked at Rogel, the current Queen of the Afterlife, the once formidable rcenary who had made waves in Night City.
Ti had not spared her; as the wheels of ti rolled over, she, too, had aged.
This aging wasn’t only evident in the increasingly undeniable signs of age on her face and her white hair.
Lille looked at the Queen of the Afterlife and smiled, "Of course, it’s to be the big brother."
As Lille left the nightclub, the sounds of conversation once again filled the frenetic rock music.
Rogel sat down at the bar she hadn’t sat at for a long ti—
Back when she was still a rcenary, she used to sit here often.
The bartender Claire looked at her boss with a bit of restraint, "Drink anything?"
"Give a... Johnny Silverhand."
The influence that Lille demonstrated, she had an old friend who could do the sa long ago—
A single concert drew thousands, jamming Arasaka Tower until no one could move.
But...
What Lille was doing now was much more indecipherable than Johnny.
If Johnny achieved all that with sothing mystical called "charisma," the things Lille did now were even more enigmatic - he wasn’t wild and charismatic like Johnny.
"...But just looking at the current situation, it’s crazier." Rogel downed her cocktail in one gulp and looked at Claire, "By the way, did he ever leave his own cocktail recipe?"
"Jack left one, and V has one... but that was probably a joke, he never ntioned it himself."
"I’m curious about what kind of recipe he would leave."
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