Twenty-seven and a half million Eurodollars was not a sum that could be taken lightly by the vast majority of the human population. Not even Fei-Fei, whose own family’s company raked in enough money to dwarf that sum, in their hey-day at least.

Now, while her family faced the imminent bankruptcy of their company, they prepared to shore up their assets and live the rest of their lives comfortably somewhere out of the way, with a wealth that would not nearly have the same growth-rate as before. She had heard whispers of contracting with OrbitAir and going to space to live there. It sounded like a nightmare, honestly. She’d much rather use her money to buy herself a nice place far, far away from this dungheap of a city.

But now, she had options that didn’t hinge on the approval of anyone in her family. Her money was hers to do with as she pleased, and no one could police its use. That was far more important. She’d rather have twenty-seven million that she was free to do whatever she wanted with, than even ten times the amount if it meant her family getting an input on how she used it.

As she entered the cavernous expanse of her manor, it felt like diving into a tub of vintage wine. Everything was red. The furniture, cushions, the décor. Unless it was gold. The soft, dim light left gaps around the red parts, showing off the shiny golden scrolls or busts or vases sprinkled here and there, to make sure the enormous space didn’t feel too empty, even though it was. The staff outnumbered her family almost ten to one—it was more their house than hers. Which made it her least favorite of the houses her family actively lived in.

This was just another corporate building in the end, that doubled as a guesthouse for their more discerning business partners. Not a home, though.

Fei’s heels clicked softly against the lacquered hardwood floor, a noise that drowned out the soft, whispering breaths of her too-too big house’s staff. She could hear them, breathing, even from twenty or thirty meters away. When they got close enough, eight feet away, she could hear their hearts beating. If she turned on infrared on her mil-spec Kiroshis, she could see their bloodstream in the heat that travelled across their skin, like cars in a highway at night.

Fei didn’t get what David was so worried about. This was preem. She was more alert, more agile, more powerful. She could muster up a violent response in a blink, taking out any gonk that thought they could try her just because she was a little small.

She took the elevator up to the floor that Qiang had sequestered himself in: a bachelor’s pad that managed to actually be limited in some of the excesses that most rich young men in Night City reveled in.

His bedroom was bare, minimal. He had a room dedicated to the collection of random junk—expensive collectible figurines, cards, even BD chips signed by whatever superstar had starred in them or whatever director had helped produce it.

Those were the only spaces that were really his in this entire floor. Every other area had been built for networking. A wide kitchen where almost thirty to forty people could fit comfortably at a time, and in reach of refreshments at a moment’s notice, a dining room that not even their father would feel ashamed of bringing their guests to, and a media room slash balcony floor that could comfortably seat fifty people, before a twelve-foot wide screen that hung over the balcony.

Qiang was at the balcony, enjoying himself a measure of… apple juice. The goof. More importantly, he was watching the races.

“This is a good one,” Fei said as she approached him from behind. He didn’t look away from the screen for one second.

“You watch races?” Qiang asked, befuddled.

“Not really. Just this one. Came from the Country Club just now—thought I’d spend some of those executive lounge privileges before our family tips over into the shadow realm.”

“Not gonna happen,” Qiang muttered.

Fei felt a moment of pity for her brother. She herself had reckoned emotionally with the possibility, and she knew that the family already had an exit strategy worth several hundreds of millions.

“Why’d you watch the races?” Qiang asked as he watched David and Hiroto driving in a complex tangle of lines in which they would take turns to be the first, each time only snagging seconds or even milliseconds of the spotlight.

“A friend of mine was in it.”

“Oh. Cool,” Qiang said. He then finally looked away from the screen, and to her. His mineral-plated jaw reflected the light of the screen in a matte white shine, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Wait, they didn’t die, did they? Think eight people did this time around.” He turned back to face the screen with a morbid grin. “He wasn’t named Daniel Bolt, was he?”

Fei shook her head, trying not to let her brother rile her up.

She failed.

“And what if he was, Qiang? What would you say then? Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.”

Qiang ignored her and stood up. “Well, you got lucky tuning in when you did. This race… was not like any of the other races in recent memory, at all. It was an insane upset. You see that one in the red and white car? That’s Hiroto Nakamura.”

“The Toge Oni, mountain pass demon, scary guy, I know,” Fei rolled her eyes.

“He doesn’t lose. He hasn’t for almost two years now. You know about those freak talent athletes you read about in the history books? Take Raiden Tameemon, for example. Bigshot sumo wrestler from the seventeen hundreds. His record throughout his career was two-hundred and fifty wins. Ten defeats. That’s Hiroto. An outlier. A freak talent. And once he decides to head to Europe, he might really metamorphose into a world champion.”

“And he lost, today,” Fei frowned. Was that… really such a big deal? Well… that was what all the TV people said. Still, it felt unimaginably strange that she was so close to all this. She knew David. Knew about his goofiness. How he liked to pretend that he was tougher and scarier than he actually was. How he had such a tender heart despite his upbringing. “Well, my friend did well for himself, I think.”

Qiang picked up his glass of apple juice and shook his head contemptively. “You couldn’t pay me to give a shit.”

Fei laughed. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He was challenging her. Trying to get her speech skills up to snuff, and worthy of a corp heiress.

Right as Fei opened her mouth, Qiang, still staring at the screen, held up a hand behind him to forestall her. “Wait. David Martinez. He… he goes to Arasaka Academy. Wait… no, no way,” he muttered. He was putting it together well enough. The newscasters had been quite vocal about his origins. Qiang turned to her with a sigh. “So. How well did this… friend do?”

“Really well,” she said. “He’s got you obsessing over him. Reading his data, watching him on repeat.”

“No way. Him?” he pointed at the screen.

“Yep,” Fei nodded. “Him. Also, he, uh… asked me for something. For a chance to get the QianT board’s ear on a product that he wishes to sell, and an investment opportunity. Eight figures.”

“Him,” he repeated.

“The same one.”

“Alright,” he said with a nod. “Next question: does Arasaka own him?”

“No, not really,” Fei said. “He’s chafing under this kid… the son of Arasaka finance.”

“Masaru’s boy? Wait, so he doesn’t own him? He hasn’t secretly been trained for years? He’s not theirs?”

Fei shook her head. He was no one’s.

Well. He was one girl’s. Remembering it stung. She wished that she hadn’t.

“Alright, then. I want to speak with him.”

“Wait,” Fei chuckled. “You’re supposed to be dead, right?”

“David’s more than—what, you said an investor? Why even? Doesn’t matter. It works for me. He wants to throw his lot behind us, and he looks like the type of guy that can get shit done. How fast can he be here?” Qiang laughed, shaking his head. “Probably very fast. I… want to test that.”

“What?”

“Give me his number. I’ll call him right now. Ask him to be here within ten minutes. If he can’t show up,” Qiang shrugged. “But if he can… he might be worth considering.”

Fei sent David a text as quickly as she could. Then, she sent Qiang his number.

000

To stay conscious, I started making calls. First one went to Lucy.

D: How’s Kiwi?

Lunacy: She’s good. Trauma got here with time to spare. Stabilized her before she even made it to the med-center.

Good.

D: And the others?

Lunacy: Five dead, but the rest all made it.

Yorinobu laughed and shook his head. “Fifty thousand down the drain. I wonder, does it sting?”

Didn’t feel like anything. Then again, very little did for me at this moment. I felt so… cold.

D: Last asshole got away. I’m sorry.

Lunacy: It’s fine—we fucked their shit up good, D. You should have seen their fucking faces! None of them expected to pull up to a random warehouse with fifty fucking mercs just hanging around. No need for a long face.

The last guy…

D: He’s probably gonna die anyway, Luce. Doesn’t matter.

Hopefully he didn’t have Trauma.

If he did, it would explain the muzzle flash I had seen, from the Burya that had shattered half my chest bones and riddled my lung with gashes. Someone had come to save that rat fuck.

That indicated one thing at least—he was a bastard worth saving. Perhaps even the one in charge.

Which made my failure to kill him all the more painful.

Lunacy: You good, D?

D: No, not really. I need to—go. To see this corpo about some investment.

Lunacy: The fuck? Are you serious?

D: Big break stuff, Luce. I promise I wouldn’t have gone if this wasn’t incredibly important. But you’re all good, right? If not, I’ll… I’ll turn around…

Lunacy: No, no, it’s fine, David. Take care of biz. We’ll talk later, alright? Love you.

D: Love you too.

She finally hung up, granting my mind a sweet reprieve from the effort of thinking.

The Delamain let me through North Oak without much fuss at the toll booth. The guards hadn’t even asked me any questions. They had just scanned me to see if I was on the Mei estate’s guest list.

After that, the Delamain skirted the speed limit, racing me towards my destination, practically at a snail’s pace compared to what I was used to. Had I been in a better condition, I’d have kicked up a conversation with it, to see if it was somehow also a genius racer. Probably.

Nakajima. The moment his name popped up in my head, I gave him a ring.

Nakajima: What’s up, man?

David: Scored a client. QianT. Got invited to a meeting. Going there now. Come, or show up on call.

Nakajima: Waitwaitwait hold on, did you just say QianT? How the fuck?

David: Gotta make it there quick. Only got two minutes left to talk.

Nakajima: HOW?!

David: Got a choom. From QianT. Hooked me up.

Nakajima: Hooked you up with who?

David: the board.

Nakajima: Fuck!

David: Things moved quick. Talked to her thirty minutes ago. Meeting’s now.

Nakajima: The fuck’s wrong with you anyway? Are you having a panic attack? Why are you talking like this?

David: Gunshot wounds. Gonna have to walk ‘em off. For this meet. You coming?

Nakajima: David, I’m… I’m under contract. It was different when we were considering shitcorps. That’s just sidegig-level at best, Saka doesn’t give a shit. But I can’t be making tech for a rival megacorp.

David: Shit. Now what?

Nakajima: Ask ‘em to buy up my contract. If you hype me up enough, and impress ‘em enough—wait, fucking hell David, did you say gunshot wounds?

David: Stable. Not gonna flatline.

Nakajima: Small mercies, holy fuck. Anyway, they can buy me out if you ask real nice. Come on, what do you say?

David: How much?

Nakajima: Even for a drone like me, Saka contracts don’t come cheap. I signed a thirty-year loyalty contract. Each year left is fifty k. I’ve got twenty-nine. Do the math.

David: You do it. Can’t think.

Nakajima: One point four five mill.

David: Sorted.

I hung up a moment later. Nakajima wasn’t joining us, not physically or on-call. Not while that Saka contract continued breathing down his neck. Shit, but that was life.

‘Sorted’ was right, anyway. If they weren’t gonna pay for the contract, then I might as well. Nakajima was… an opportunist, but he was my mentor, someone I slightly trusted, and someone that I could make beholden to me via chains of debt, which would ensure his trust level further. He was an extra body. An ally even, depending on how well he behaved in the coming months.

In this world, those were… important. That was the whole reason for the honor system that involved vassalization. Otherwise, everything would fall into a free-for-all. A fair, and egalitarian free-for-all, but a chaotic one nonetheless. And chaos was bad for business.

Except when it wasn’t, of course.

End of the day, having Nakajima around me was a boon that I couldn’t go without. I’d get him onboard somehow.

Delamain split off from the main road and drove up towards a manor guarded by a pair of gates made of vertical metal beams, plated in gold.

“Nanny,” I muttered. “Brain problem. What’s the—what’s the sitrep.”

I felt a barrage of despair and hopelessness from our link. Not what I wanted to hear. [I put it in a cage, but… David, I’m out of my depth, here. The physical conditions that give rise to something as complicated as psychosis are so manifold, so precise, so small that I… I’m finding myself at a loss on what to do. I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know if this will work. If the cage will hold. At least for the time being. You need rest. None of my efforts are guaranteed. This cage… I don’t know if it will even succeed.]

Or if it will even have its intended effect. What if it tried to whisper into my mind in my voice? Trick me into entertaining and considering thoughts that weren’t mine?

Wait—was that… something it could still do? Why had I made that inference in the first place?

Had the whispers come from inside Nanny’s… mindscape cage?

What the fuck was going on? I was missing too much.

D: How did this even happen?

[Your recent upgrades may have contributed. That and, today was the first time we ever pushed the Sandy to this extent. Overuse may have contributed to your psychological strain. Your neural strain seemed within tolerances to me, but clearly I’ve missed something, an important factor. One that I have yet to identify.]

“Fuck,” I whispered. We had gotten completely blindsided. She had gotten completely blindsided. Then again, she had been dealing with something new. Or, not new. We had already dealt with something similar once before, weeks ago, when the Sandevistan started acting up.

Right after I almost died in that data fortress.

Back then, I had skirted the line to 100% critical progress as well. That was one similarity. But that time, the only immediate consequence had been my Sandy acting up.

It had continued to do so until the discomfort had reached a peak the day after.

But this was different. Yes, I had pushed the Sandevistan hard, but my back felt… not fine, but certainly not outside of my expectations of how I should feel after getting thrown off several moving vehicles within minutes of each other.

Christ, what a fuck up.

D: Brains are hard.

[Yes. Very much so. In any case, you should be more energetic and alert by the time we make it to this meeting. Currently, that is all I can do for you.]

D: All I can ask. Thanks for looking out, Nanny.

[Looking out isn’t good enough. You need rest. Days of it, at least. And I need…]

D: What?

[I need more knowledge on cyberpsychosis itself. Remedial technology, management and treatment regimes. Especially for advanced cases, fullbody borgs and conversions of the type Raven Microcyb does—which are the closest parallel to your case. Otherwise, I can’t see how I can keep implementing your upgrade regime. I might even need to pare back some of it.]

D: No.

D: I’ll think of something. Later.

Once the Delamain had finally pulled up in front of the manor, I shoved my mask into my inner jacket pocket, opened the car door, and hobbled out while a pair of wide-eyed, somewhat panicked butlers led the way into the house.

Each step was… not agony. Just difficult. Everything was difficult. Breathing was difficult. Everything I had felt inside that bathroom in the Country Club felt magnified by an entire order of magnitude. My pant-leg had a hole near my shin, my blazer was torn up on my side, and there was blood all over my face. I looked like shit.

I stumbled after the servants, ignoring their offers for aid or medical attention. “Meeting,” I muttered. That had the effect of refocusing their minds on the task at hand—getting me to that damned meeting.

The QianT head family’s manor was big in the way that every high-end location was. The inside looked more like a swanky mall or maybe a museum than an actual home where you lived, where you could walk around the living room in your underwear without any consequence. The enormity of this space made everything a shoes-on affair, even going to the fucking bathroom. I couldn’t imagine living that way.

Entering the air-conditioned environment felt like diving into a vat of dark-red cherry Nicola. Everything was uncomfortably dark red, reminding me of blood, like a constant reminder of my waning health. Red everywhere, or gold in a few tiny places, as befitting their Chinese theme.

Though maybe that was the point: this wasn’t a home. This was a house, in the medieval sense of the word. A locational symbol of status, a stronghold, and a meeting area to receive guests while their… face was at its highest. This building was a video game buff for social stats.

My thoughts and recollections were so heavy that I could recall some words someone had said to me, when my mind had brushed upon the video game association. That… kid, Allister, who had acted as Jin’s XBD gofer before I had come along, had called alcohol a debuff towards the statistic known as ‘social defense’.

Conversely, this place was like a shrine that emitted an aura that boosted ‘social offense’.

Not that I had even the slightest mental werewithal to appreciate the environment. Instead, I focused on the people. Suited corpos hanging about some seating area, security guards casting me rough glances, a… bar from which a trio of corpos were busy shinnying the place up.

They blended together to form an impressionistic, indescribable vista of… society at its most orderly. The security became red zones, or… spikes. Environmental hazards, never to be crossed. When I blinked, everything resolved into the literal, rather than interpretations. Like I was waking up from half a dream.

D: Really gonna need that energy boost, now. I’m almost falling asleep on my feet.

[Any second.]

The two servants finally led me to an elevator.

I stole a few precious seconds of rest while standing, essentially travelling forward in time.

Once the elevators opened, the servants led me through the floor, and towards a balcony floor with a giant screen on one side, and the manicured nature of North Oak just hanging besides us, though now it was all dark and washed gray-blue by the moon as opposed to verdant green.

On a seat surrounded by a wide, low table, sat two people. One, whose face I didn’t recognize at a glance, and another, who didn’t need any introduction. Seafoam hair, a beautiful blue dress that she hadn’t changed out from since the race, and eyes that were wide with terror. What—what was wrong?

“David!” She stood up. “Oh my god, are you… are you okay?”

It took a moment for me to connect the dots. I felt stupid for a moment before giving a nod. “I’m fine.”

This content has been misappropriated from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The other guy stood up. He was dressed modestly: just a pair of black dress pants, black leather shoes, and an onyx button-down, but no jacket or tie or anything else, not even jewelry. He had some fashionware on his face, mandibular implants instead of a natural jawline, giving it a stone finish. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses as well, even though it wasn’t all that bright here. Just moody orange lighting that barely lit up the red furniture. So much red, though. And gold.

The man narrowed his eyes at me. “…What took you so long? Aren’t you supposed to be this bigshot racer?” he grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes. A fan. “That why you called me here without any notice?” I asked.

“David,” Fei walked up to me. “You—you need a doctor. I’m calling Trauma Team—“

I held up a hand. “Stop. No. I’m good. Stable. I’ll take care of this later. Listen, I have pain editors. I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

The man stepped towards me and gave me his hand. “I’m Qiang. And you’re David Martinez.”

I shook the hand.

“Firm grip,” he said. “As expected of a top racer.”

I nodded.

“Fei did tell me you were caught up in some business,” Qiang said.

“Choom got in trouble,” I said.

Qiang looked up and gave a grin, before raising his index finger. “Question—did it have anything to do with the carnage that just occurred around fifteen minutes ago? An explosion in Rancho Coronado, a gang-clash also in Rancho, and finally a car-crash that involved multiple injured policemen in Arroyo?”

I shook my head. “No. Choom got caught fucking a gang boss’ girl,” I said. “Saved his life. Now I’m here.” What, was he gonna fact-check me or something? How much of Night City’s underbelly was ever truly visible for a guy like him?

Qiang’s eyes widened and he nodded. “That is… truly something.”

“I have things to tell you,” I said. “But first off, I wanna say… thanks for the chance to chat. I would have arrived in a better condition if I had time to prepare, but—“

“You’ve certainly made an impression,” he said, before gesturing at one of the seats. “Have a seat. I’ll get some of the good stuff brought in. You need any chems?”

Chems? “No thanks, I don’t do drugs.”

“I meant for your abysmal form. Do you want them?”

D: Nanny?

[We’re good for pain management and we’re no longer bleeding.]

I shook my head. “I’m totally stable,” I said as I took my seat. “Lost a bit of blood, broke some bones. Got… a projectile or two, hanging around somewhere.”

“And yet,” Qiang said as he took his time sitting down, “You rushed here with all your waning strength at my call. Either that,” he said with a tilt of his head, “Or you decided to do all of this to yourself, just to impress me.”

“I can’t even… begin to imagine the upsides to having done this to myself,” I said. “I’m surprised you even could.”

“Sister,” Qiang said, looking at Fei. “Do you know what David’s business was?”

“He… told me his friend was in trouble,” Fei replied honestly. I nodded. “Didn’t stick around to explain. Just rushed out. David, your… friend.”

“Fine,” I said.

“And what if he hadn’t been?” Qiang asked. “Would you still have dropped everything to come see me, just for a chance at unimaginable wealth?”

My dream…

…was worth nothing without my people.

“No,” I said.

“Not even for an irresponsible friend that nearly got you killed?”

“Not even,” I said.

He stared at me for a long moment. A few seconds that felt like minutes to me, especially given my form. “Loyalty. It’s a pretty concept. Can’t be taught. Only… harnessed. Your loyalty is a power that must be directed for maximal effect.”

“Can’t be taught, can’t be bought,” I said. “I’ll never bend to you because you flashed me some edds, Qiang. That’s not how you win me over—if that’s even in the books.”

Qiang’s grin widened. “What makes you think I want you?”

“Inductive reasoning,” I said. “Also known as pattern recognition. I’m wanted. Got courted by Militech and Kang Tao not even an hour ago. Thought you’d want a piece of that pie, too.”

“Doesn’t Arasaka already have it?” Qiang asked.

“I kindled a friendship with one of its lesser sons,” I said. “A favor… for a favor. I raced on his behalf, and we benefitted. That… doesn’t mean they own me,” I grimaced.

Qiang looked… baffled by that. “Wait. What… what do you mean?”

“No one owns me, Qiang.”

“David Martinez, seventeen,” he said, with the tone of someone reciting something from a document. “Current resident of Arroyo, student in Arasaka Academy. No living parents. One that died just two months ago. You’re a ghost. Nothing about who you really are is accessible anywhere. You went from nothing, just another spawn from the muck of this city, to this. And you say that you are not owned by anyone.”

I narrowed my eyes and gave that idea some thought. Who owned me?

Who truly had a claim so strong that if I was met with it, I would have no choice but to acquiesce?

My family, back in Tijuana?

I… loved them. In a way that I didn’t love mom, or Lucy, or the crew. I loved our connection, how it transcended time and space, and allowed us to be trusted allies towards one another without much great effort.

But I was their helper. My generosity with them knew no real bounds—materially, at least. But they didn’t own me. They never even entertained the notion that they did. And that was perfect, because that was the truth.

The truth was, when I looked at it a certain way, that was the one thing I truly appreciated about them.

Once upon a time, Maine would have had a decent claim. He… I owed so much to that man. He gave me an in to this world, and he gave me people. The latter was what I was most concerned with, and what made me the most grateful to him.

I hadn’t had this talk with him yet, but… he likely knew that he didn’t really have all that much authority over me. I chose to be around him and the others because that was where I wanted to be. Did he have influence over me? Of course.

But did he own me?

No.

I ran the list down one by one: Jin, his old man, Nakajima, all of Arasaka.

And all of it was an emphatic no.

Lucy.

Yes, actually.

She owned me. And I owned her. We belonged to each other. And there would be no exploitation of that contract, because we loved each other.

Maybe that wasn’t the pristine freedom that I had always pictured for myself, but it was enough. True freedom was impossible, anyway. Unless you were a complete psychopath. For a person, who valued human bonds, freedom was an impossibility.

But that didn’t have to be an unpleasant notion. It certainly wasn’t in my case. In fact, I was grateful.

“No,” I told Qiang. “If you’re referring to my corporate sponsor, that would be… no one. I go to Arasaka Academy, but I haven’t signed anything with them as of yet.”

Qiang blinked. “Who taught you how to race?”

“Not a corp,” I said. “Or anyone worth mentioning, really.” Sorry, Falco. “The gist of it is—I’m homegrown. I heard a constant stream of absolute nonsense during my time right after I had won my race. Something about my secret origin as a corp experiment, a lab-grown racer. Bogus, all of it.”

A waiter arrived with three lowball glasses, empty but for smooth, spherical glass inside—no, ice. My eyes were just… trash, right now. The tray with the glasses also contained a squat bottle of whiskey. Fifty centiliters.

[Do not expect to fight anyone in your condition. Certainly not corp security.]

D: Why the fuck is this house so big that it even needs corp security walking around indoors? Fucking weird.

I hoped for Fei’s sake that she didn’t actually live in this gold-plated, diamond-studded shithole.

Qiang grinned in interest. “Are you, now? Well, that remains to be independently verified. But don’t worry, you have very much piqued my interest.”

I bit back a hot retort. Didn’t need to be honest right now, just intriguing. And while that didn’t require strict politeness, rudeness was a whole other beast. “If you have any more questions, feel free,” I said, “Though my coming here had more to do with what I wanted to achieve with you.”

“With me?” he asked.

“With QianT,” I amended.

“Public record shows that I’m currently dead. How come you’re not… surprised, at all?”

I cracked a grin. “I did think I was moving on to the afterlife after I caught sight of you. I’m glad to know that you’re real, at least.”

Qiang laughed. Fei, who had been sitting away, leaned forward to pour me a glass. I gave her a grateful nod, took the glass, and enjoyed a sip. It wasn’t going to numb me any better than Nanny already could, but it would probably make me feel more joyful at this moment.

“Did you know?” he asked.

“No,” I told him. “I also didn’t think it mattered. I’m here to—”

“Did you know that you can pay for Arasaka Academy to give you copies of their CCTV footage?” Qiang asked.

“I mean… it tracks,” I said with a shrug. Tiger corpo parents had to get their kicks, somehow. Or just pedos or something. Fucking weird, though.

I wish I’d never learned this.

“You seem… mighty friendly with my sister,” Qiang said, pointing towards me. Ah, so he did shell out for the Pedo Executive Tier subscription with Arasaka. Good to know.

There were tons of places where they didn’t have cameras. Anyone who went to the school for long enough would know of those spots: bathrooms, changing rooms, and a select few janitorial closets and classrooms on campus—all defunct and scheduled for renovation of course.

Anywhere else, privacy wasn’t an expectation, but a dream.

“What’s the pause about?” Qiang asked.

I spoke without thinking, “I’m just… so concerned about the implications of… what you just said. Parents buying surveillance footage of their kids while on school grounds. Jesus.”

“Are you trying to fluster me?” Qiang asked. “You think I care about your esteem and how you view me?”

“Okay,” I muttered. “That was uncalled for. I’m just having a moment. I actually go to this school.”

“He’s right,” Fei jumped to my defense. “It is unimaginably creepy. And quite frankly, dehumanizing.”

“It’s also thorough,” he said. “Now I have a deeper understanding of your relationship, and I was also treated to a most fascinating time-lapse of you growing, what, five inches taller and several dozen kilograms heavier, in a few months.”

“It’s not chrome,” I said with a smile.

“I figured it wasn’t. You’re quite light, after all. Your frame is quite broad, but you yourself are still only at ninety-two and a half kilograms, with the only discernible chrome on your body being a neural link—or perhaps just a spinal implant. Some data suggests that you are the holder of a Kerenzikov system, which you used to successfully counter a QianT Sandevistan while in battle.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Kang Tao’s security division sent us that diagnostic data while fuming.” Kang Tao?

My fight with that fucking Kung Fu bitch. Hou Ken.

Diagnostic data? What, had they reported my fight as evidence that the Sandevistan Hou Ken wore had been malfunctioning or something? Sounded rather petty, given that his Sandy had worked perfectly. It just hadn’t been enough to beat me.

But what must they have discerned from me based on that diagnostic data? I knew that they probably had a full recording of the fight, a braindance, even. They’d have endless opportunities to dress my fighting style down, and tease every single secret out that they could.

Shit.

Shit, shit, fucking shit.

Was that why he had called me here? To figure out my secrets?

And I had just served myself up on a platter, walking in here all weak and battered.

“Let me guess,” Qiang said, raising one finger, “A Techtronika Kerenzikov, and an Arasaka Synaptic Accelerator. Soviet and Japanese—a marriage of practicality and pure performance. Am I close?”

What game was he playing at? What did he actually know? Was my Sandy still a secret?

Why the fuck had I come here?

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“Yes,” I lied. Those two—whatever.

“Hah!” Qiang clapped his hand. “Excellent choice. You limit the neural strain by splitting the load between two cyberware instead of one working overtime. The Kerenzikov is the passive effect of always slowing down time, and when you just need an extra boost, you activate your Synaptic Accelerator.”

“Good system,” I shrugged. In fact, if I got out of here alive, I might recommend that set-up to the family back in Tijuana. Sounded pretty solid—permanent time dilation, aside. If Hiroto could deal with it, I’m sure others probably could.

“How have you not lost your mind yet?” Qiang asked. Ah, guess that set-up wasn’t that sensible after all. “Well, really, since you arrived in this way, I must also ask—do you still have your wits about you?”

No, not really. “You mean, did I almost die for no reason but because I freaked out? No.”

“Alright then, let’s circle back to what I said earlier. You and Fei,” he said. He hadn’t skipped a beat before that response, either, like he wouldn’t so much as let me question the fact that he knew, knew everything, knew—

Fei?

“She’s… a friend,” I said. The sudden shift to Fei had completely blindsided me.

“How long?” Qiang rapid-fired.

“Qiang,” Fei growled.

“Few months,” I said.

“All those weeks and weeks for this very moment, I presume? Her putting in a good word for you, giving you an in to our family? Where else did that ambition take your mind? Probably nowhere pure.”

“Are you here for my idea—” I said, but he interrupted me before I could.

“I’m here for you. Nightmare Rally racer, champion. From zero to hero. An anomaly. One that has intrigued me endlessly since I first heard of you about two hours ago, when the races kicked off.”

Fuck being famous. This truly sucked. It was like everyone in the world now had ample time to sharpen their knives before lunging at me where I least expected it.

Had all this bullshit happened because of the Nightmare Rally?

Was my secret identity compromised? The weight of my mask laid heavily in my inner jacket pocket. I was one strip-search away from being exposed, while I could physically do nothing about it if the issue was forced.

And what pissed me off the most was none of that.

It was this piece of shit brother, who thought that familial ties were enough to excuse this sort of bullshit—creating a humiliating environment for his own sister, making her out to be an idiot, granting zero respect to her. Instead, just doubt. The same doubt and lack of belief that had led to her initial circumstances to begin with. The doubt that she was no better used as a bargaining chip for her family than anything else.

A non-entity whose feelings needn’t be regarded.

“I didn’t use Fei-Fei,” I said. “I asked her for a favor, one that I intend to repay one day. Moreover, she’s been a good friend, who showed me kindness and acceptance when no one else did. You wanna talk about purity? How ‘bout you stop trashing your little sister in front of company like she’s some nobody whose feelings you can just walk over?”

Fei’s eyes widened. “David, please don’t—“

I ignored her, and instead focused on Qiang. “I’m fine with mindgames, a bit of light torture here and there. You couldn’t say anything about me that I haven’t already heard a million times before? But the moment you go after the people I actually give a shit about, we’re gonna have some problems.”

Qiang’s jaw clenched. “I’m only interrogating your motives, here. Not my sister’s.”

“Casting her as some naïve fool who needs to be rescued by you, while I’m just a piece of shit that scammed her, because she’s that stupid. But how stable is your assurance of her safety, anyway? Where the fuck were you when Katsuo almost killed her? That’s right—you damn-near got your brains blown out at the zeroth second. Left her all alone while you could do nothing.”

Qiang’s eyes widened. Fei put a hand over her mouth.

And I… was starting to regret coming here, in this state.

D: Nanny, what the fuck.

[Don’t look at me, David—this was entirely you.]

“You are… fucking ballsy,” Qiang laughed. Then he started cursing in Mandarin. “This fucking kid’s got no brains.” I cast a glance at Fei, who was glaring at Qiang. Qiang shook his head and finally sighed. “Loyalty. I have to respect it. Not just any loyalty, but a loyalty that extends so deeply towards the people you care for, that you were willing to bomb a deal. And most importantly, a loyalty that extends towards my sister.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. But I wouldn’t stop to appreciate the win. I needed to look closely at it.

Provoke. “Or maybe that was my entire plan from the start,” I said, casting doubt on his oh-so-amazing intuition. “Dazzle you with continuous demonstrations of ‘loyalty’, something you apparently place great value in, until you started to like me?”

Qiang shook his head. “I doubt it. You’re not that good an actor. Certainly not in your current state. And yet, there’s so much to appreciate about you. How did you and Fei become friends?”

“Can we just… talk about the deal?” I pleaded.

“I like… you, right here, right now,” he said, pointing at me. “You, with the blood-drenched face, walking with a limp, breathing so loudly that it’s all I can hear. I want to have you here, in this way, for as long as possible. At least until I’ve gotten to know you better.”

“Brother, that’s not okay,” Fei said. “He needs rest. He needs medical attention. And he came here, in spite of all that has happened, to give you a pitch. You need to hear him out, and then let him go as soon as possible.”

Qiang nodded at her sister, then turned to me. “Well? What’s the story between you two?”

“Literally none of your business,” my words were laced with a slight, manic giggle.

There were no couth ways to really broach the nature of Fei and I’s first meeting, and subsequent relationship, which had only today transformed into something else entirely.

“He’s right,” she said. “It isn’t. If you want an answer, you can ask me.”

“Alright then. How did—“

“Go fuck yourself,” she said flatly.

Qiang chuckled and nodded. “Fine.” He turned to me with a sigh. “Alright tell me. What’s the plan?”

“I want to buy in.”

Qiang frowned. “Why?”

“I want to implement a product, a software. Get your logistics issues sorted.”

Qiang narrowed his eyes. “Where did you hear about those?”

“Through the grapevine. My stake would be ninety, by the way.”

Qiang laughed. “Ninety. As in… thousand?”

“As in… million,” I aped him sarcastically, lowering my voice. “Why would I even come to you like this, if I wasn’t here to do real business?”

Fei-Fei widened her eyes at me. Ninety? She mouthed at me. Right, she… never even knew how much I had bet on myself. Shit.

Well, if she changed her mind about spotting me the twenty-seven, I’d be down to only what I had won in the Rally.

Qiang blinked at me. “Our value’s in a freefall.”

“That’s why I’m serious,” I said. “I know that coming to you with what I have, without putting down an actual stake, would be stupid. It wouldn’t show commitment. Now, listen—I won… a lot of money from the Nightmare Rally. I bet a lot of money on myself, and won even more. Seventy times my stake of a million.”

“What about the rest?” he asked. “You said ninety.”

I cast Fei a quick glance, and her eyes moved in a nod-like way. Though it took me a moment to decrypt her message, I looked back at Qiang and gave a nod. “Sorted. But… it is all I have.”

“And what are you even selling?” he asked.

“Better logistics, more efficient workflows. It’s a top-down software with a far greater range of inputs, that uses a mathematical model that I—and a friend of mine—developed. I’m confident that there’s nothing like this on the market.”

“Wait—you’re a programmer?”

I sent him a picksocket Quickhack. After a few seconds, it broke through his ICE and caused a chip to fly off from his neck. Before it could fly too far, I got up and quickly grabbed it from the air, before sitting down, to find Qiang holding a gun over his lap, like he was daring me to try something.

I flicked the ejected chip back to him.

“I’m a programmer’s programmer,” I said.

“What about racing?”

“I spent about as much time perfecting my car control as I did coding my line algorithm in the first place,” I said. “I’m not just a programmer, Qiang. I’m an actual genius.”

“Is your software done?” he asked. “Does it have a name?”

“No, and… just the skeleton’s there. Still got a lot to build, a lot of… adapting to existing systems. The nature of my product is that it must be integrated into a corp’s operations, to an invasive extent, honestly—“

“Like any workflow algorithm worth its salt.”

“But! The idea is there, already. The bones, the DNA

. It’s there. And I’d bet my life savings that it’ll pay off. And as you may have noticed already, I’m… kind of a winner.”

Qiang sighed. “Ah… Well. Ninety million would have been a drop in the bucket at any other point, but now… that might be exactly how much is needed to fund your little venture. And if you screw up… I hope you have an exit strategy in handy.”

Fuck. Thank god.

“Why not… a hundred million?” Qiang asked. “Is coming up with ten more million too much of an ask?”

With Fei’s loan combined with mine, I’d actually be able to muster an additional eight million if push came to shove. I would just much rather have that value be liquid, so that I could make whatever purchases I wanted without getting a loan leveraged against my stock portfolio.

Ninety million aside, I was too broke to try fucking around with the banks. I’d wait until I had made my first billion, and I stopped being meat to the banks.

Seemed solid.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Hm. I do pity your situation,” he said.

I laughed. “You’re the first person I’ve met who would ever pity me for just having ninety million.”

“And if you were happier about where you were in life, then perhaps I would share in that joy. But I know that ninety million is… it doesn’t become you.” Ah. Go ahead. Tell me how much you think you know me. “After all, why would you even bet this money if you weren’t confident that you stood to gain so much more? Tell me, David.” Alright, so he had been slightly accurate. But it was barely anything, really. Certainly not a true cold read.

“I might be a gambling addict,” I said blithely.

“How much have you lost gambling?”

I consulted my memory, and came away with nothing. Just a grin. “Can’t say I have, really.”

“Gambled?”

“Lost.”

Qiang brought his lower lip forward, seemingly impressed. He hummed and nodded. “Ten million. To make your share a hundred.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what would the interest on this loan be?”

“Interest-free, and not a loan. Just take it.”

“Ten million?”

Qiang grinned. “That is… precious, truly. I appreciate your presence here. It makes me more… grateful, for where I was born.”

“Qiang,” Fei groaned. “Stop it.”

“Alright, alright,” Qiang waved his hand at her before turning to me. “Ten million, making your stake a hundred, which would… turn you into the seventeen-year-old kid that signed a nine figure deal with a megacorp. The press are gonna love it.”

“Press?” I grimaced.

“Oh yes! What, you thought you’d be investing in pure silence? No, besides, the firm needs the publicity. You’ll have to do, for this stage of things.”

I nodded. “Alright. I have more that I need to talk to you about,” I said.

“Come when you’re less… malformed,” Qiang said with a shrug.

My eyes fell on the gun on his lap, that he finally withdrew and re-holstered. “Lots of vigilance for a malformed enemy.”

“I didn’t enjoy being taken by surprise that time,” Qiang said to me, his expression tight. I had definitely struck a nerve with that comment, reminding him of how he’d eaten shit at the start of Katsuo’s shootout. “And it won’t happen again.”

“Certainly shouldn’t,” I said. “You’re QianT. Your sandies are legendary. I’m sure you must have the Warp Dancer, right?” Or perhaps… he had another Dragon Spine. Another one of mine.

I’d get to the bottom of that. Eventually.

Qiang stood up. “That’s all the time I have for you. We will discuss more once we’re through the whole buy-in business. Next Saturday. Does that sound good? Perfect. Until then, try not to piss away your ninety million.”

That was… rather unlikely.

How did one piss away ninety million within seven days?

[You would find a way.]

Probably.

“Stay away from the casinos,” Qiang said. “And the betting. Remember the only bet that matters to you now is the one you made in me.”

“You mean… your company,” I said.

“Same difference. One day,” he said, winking at me. Then he proceeded towards the elevator. “You two can finish your drinks. Close the deal, Fei.”

Then he disappeared down the elevator.

Fei immediately lunged towards a chair closer to me, scooting closer still. “David, are you okay?”

“I’m not gonna die,” I said.

“But… otherwise?”

I gave her a grin, that must have looked rather savage. “All my friends are safe, Fei. That’s all that matters.”

She gave a sigh of relief. “And what about you? Doesn’t it… isn’t it scary?”

I did come pretty close to dying, actually.

But that fear couldn’t touch the shame of having let one asshole get away in the end.

Then I finally remembered something, and cursed. “Need to call your brother.”

He picked up immediately.

David: I have a friend in Arasaka who helped me—

Qiang: You want me to buy out his contract. The answer is no.

David: He’s an important—

Qiang: Ally of yours.

David: He’s part of the talent.

Qiang: He’s your responsibility.

Fuck!

Qiang: Choose whether to bring him in at your own expense, or to abandon this dear friend of yours for selfish needs.

David: Fine. Thanks. Goodbye.

Qiang: Don’t be sulky.

David: I’m not being sulky. You’re just not letting me finish, and it is rather frus—

He hung up.

“Fei, why is your brother—“

“Like this?” Her eyes glittered. “He… is annoying as fuck. But he’s good at it. At everything, really. But especially that. But you should ignore it—he does like you.”

“He’s… interested in using me,” I said.

“No,” she shook her head. “Not really. I think you made a positive impression on him. You did a good job, David.”

I nodded. “Thank you—“

“But,” she said sternly. “That thing? You said about my brother getting shot in the head?”

“Oh—Fei, I’m sorry.”

“You’re… not in your right mind right now, so I’ll forgive you, but I still have to say: that was fucked up. Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was.”

“I forgive you,” she said with a roll of her eyes before sitting back on her chair. “Now… would you mind telling me… how you got this way? Was any of what you said to Qiang real?”

I sighed. “Didn’t involve a gang-boss.” Then I frowned. “I think. Truth is, it was just… garden variety random violence. No cause, no reason, just… Night City.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Like… in my head?” I asked. The truth was, I didn’t know. Nanny was having to deal with this thing. “Yeah,” I said.

“Anyone can be traumatized, David.”

I chuckled. “It’s fine. You should see the other guy,” I laughed. “My only regret is letting that fucker even get away. That’s when… your bro called me. Had to choose. Finish the job, or go see him.”

“Finish… the job?”

My mouth went dry at the admission. “Wait, Fei-Fei, it’s not…”

I couldn’t say anything. For several eternities, I couldn’t. “Not what?” Fei asked.

I could only shake my head and look down at the glass of whiskey on the table. “Nevermind. It… is. It just is.”

“You were going to kill a man, tonight?” Fei asked.

“Trying to keep my chooms safe.”

“I’m sorry,” Fei backed away. “Um… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That had nothing to do with you, I shouldn’t have talked about it.” I stood up. “It was nice, seeing you again. I need to go, now.”

“Can I walk you out?”

I had lost enough progress towards critical imperfect cell replication, that I could just fire up the Sandevistan while walking, and it would make me feel a whole lot better.

But it was best to wait until I was well and truly clear of the area before then.

“Sure,” I said.

The elevator ride down made me acutely aware of how fucked my body was, even if the Gs of my descent made me feel lighter. Not nearly light enough.

“Ninety million, huh?” Fei asked.

“I won seventy two,” I confessed. “I just… factored in your winnings. For the ninety figure. But if you don’t wanna—“

Fei giggled. “No, David. It’s fine. I was just surprised.”

Shit. “Listen, Fei, if you’re rethinking the loan because I won big, that’s understandable. Frankly, I should have told you the amount earlier. I wasn’t hurting for eddies at all and—”

“I didn’t offer you that money because I thought you were ‘hurting for eddies’,” she said quietly. “I offered you that money because I was grateful, and because I felt like you deserved it. And I still am. Grateful. And you deserve it.”

She took my arm and hugged it. I almost staggered at the sudden force. She quickly looped her left arm around my left armpit, keeping me upright. “Thanks,” I muttered.

She just giggled. “It’s just… crazy. I can carry a grown man.”

I laughed. “It’s… yeah. It’s a nova feeling.”

She closed her eyes and grinned, before headbutting my face softly.

000

Fei couldn’t believe her eyes as he watched him try to keep upright.

He was… just covered in wounds. Cuts all over his face, blood that should have congealed his eyes shut by how it abundantly covered his face, and a breathing that sounded disconcertingly similar to a kazoo. A fucking kazoo.

David was not doing well at all. And yet he could ignore it so easily. Like it didn’t matter. But it had to. He was human. Everyone was.

And everyone had a breaking point.

“So,” Fei murmured. “You can rely on me to lift you up. No burden is too much for me to hold up, you know. Not anymore.”

David chuckled in a sickly way. “Thank you, Fei-Fei. I already called a Delamain. It should be out near the gate in a minute. I’m really sorry about the bother, about… showing up this way. I didn’t think I had a choice, and I panicked and…”

“David,” she said. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. It isn’t healthy.”

He got up to his feet, relieving Fei-Fei of most of his weight. He didn’t say anything, however.

Fei spoke instead. “David… why are you doing this? Why are you investing?”

“Money,” he said. “And I know it sounds bad but… really. I did see an opportunity through you. And I asked you.”

“For how long?” she asked.

“I’d been searching for corporations to sell to for weeks before that point. Weeks while I had known you, by the way. I didn’t… find you just to pull this con, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I know,” she growled. “I don’t care what anyone says about that.”

“I have dreams, Fei-Fei. I have goals. Ambitions. I want to make it big. Really big.”

“Becoming a full-blown megacorp shareholder right off the bat, though?”

“Yeah, I gotta prep a bit first. But… I prepped for the race, and look where that got me.”

Fei giggled. “You can’t be serious. Driving a car isn’t as difficult as trying to reach for the board of executives at a megacorp, no matter how down on their luck they are.”

“Let’s see where the dice roll,” David grinned at her. Fei grimaced.

“Can we… maybe visit a bathroom before you go? Get you washed up, at least on the face?” The elevator finally opened.

David sighed and nodded. “Thank-thank you.” They started walk towards the bathroom, her taking the lead.

Fei smiled, though she felt a spike of sadness at his gratitude. It was literally the least she could do.

Would he even go to the Med-Center after this? Or would he rather choose to get treated by some third-rate medcorp because of his beef against Trauma Team?

She didn’t want to sour the moment, but she couldn’t in good conscience just let him go like this. “David… let’s call an ambulance instead.”

David chuckled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’m not bleeding, I’m not even hurting. And I will get fixed. Not putting on any chrome, either. I’m strictly bio, unless it’s my brain. Then it’s… synaptic accelerators and cyberdecks. But I am fine.”

Fei frowned. Rather than continue pushing him while he wouldn’t budge, she tried to make a joke instead. “I wonder if I could kick your ass.”

David laughed. “The way I am now, hundred percent. But trust me, Fei, I’d pack your ass up in a heartbeat if I was okay.”

Fei laughed in shock. “You’re fucking crazy, David.”

“Let’s… go shooting sometime.”

Fei’s heart skipped a beat at the date proposal. “Are you sure?”

“You want to defend yourself—feel safe and all. I respect that a whole lot. And if I can help, I’d be really glad.”

“Alright,” She nodded. “Let’s go sometime.”

She opened the door to the bathroom. They washed him up in solemn silence, herself fighting the impulse to blush as she felt at his skin, cut up in some places, but smooth and warm in others.

She wished she could take it farther.

But right now, helping her friend… was enough for her.