[TN: Happy Holidays, guys, have a gift for you all]
The afterlife was way too lively.
The issue wasn't the crowd—it was that ever since Leo stepped through the door, nobody coming in could be called a small fry. Even Rogue found her mood getting complicated—
On one hand, they were all corporate executives.
On the other, none of them were here for her.
Militech and Arasaka came together, and they left together.
Still, an old acquaintance showed up as well.
Kang Tao sent someone again, hoping to sponsor Leo—and that made things complicated.
[Little Octopus: Boss, the medical analysis is back. V's nervous system is indeed showing signs of regeneration.]
That was unexpected—and it instantly removed any reason for Leo to accept Kang Tao's stingy sponsorship.
In most cases, adult neurons couldn't regenerate. Once neurons died, the damage was permanent.
A large part of why V's Sandevistan couldn't break past the theoretical 20% acceleration limit lay right there.
Her last cyberpsychosis episode had burned out a significant number of neurons. To compensate, the Sandevistan diverted computation and reinforcement currents to other muscle groups, ensuring the necrotic neural regions wouldn't cause paralysis or loss of motor precision.
In simple terms, neural tolerance to electrical and other stimulation had been converted into functional compensation—preventing the pseudo–time-stop effect from increasing further.
But during the fight against the Slaughterhouse full-body cyborgs, Little Octopus noticed that V's ceiling had loosened. Leo immediately sent her to Viktor for a checkup.
And this was the result.
Kang Tao's proposal was straightforward:
Help us test a new generation of reality-distortion chips and technology.
Even in a cyberpunk world, neural damage was a bleeding-edge medical problem—
But not an incurable one.
There existed a method using nanobots and nanomaterials to permanently repair damaged nerves—essentially replacing tissue at the cellular level with cybernetic equivalents.
It was usually extremely expensive, and almost always a long-term treatment plan.
Most importantly, it was technology monopolized by a few Japanese medical giants.
Arasaka was the prime example.
"So what—you have this tech too?"
"It's a prototype chip. Not mature yet. But considering you freaks shove anything into your bodies, I figured you'd be thrilled."
As he spoke, the Kang Tao representative glanced at the mechanical arm attached to Leo's body.
Cyberware that visibly altered one's silhouette—cheap, industrial-looking, openly mechanical—wasn't considered respectable in high society.
It was the cyberpunk equivalent of grotesque piercings or excessive tattoos in the Marvel universe.
The difference was that for the working class in Night City, cyberware was how you worked.
Ugly shapes often meant black-market or self-assembled low-grade products.
Meeting demand meant sacrificing appearances.
Kang Tao's chip was unusual. Its surface sheen differed slightly from standard chips. Under nanoscopic scanning, one could see electrically responsive nanomaterials embedded inside.
"This thing works like a capsule. You slot it into the neural interface. Current floods the nerves, the capsule dissolves, and the materials bind to the damaged neural paths. If everything goes right, the nerves will fully regenerate within six months."
The Kang Tao representative made no attempt to explain where the tech came from.
Leo was ninety percent sure it was stolen from Arasaka.
According to the original timeline, Kang Tao should already have been in contact with a senior Arasaka engineer by now.
Seeing Leo unmoved, the man in black arrogantly put on his sunglasses.
"It's a prototype. If this tech stabilizes, it might save your girl's life. Think it over."
In other words—
Use V as a test subject.
Someone with abnormally high reaction metrics meant a more active, complex nervous system. A perfect experimental candidate.
Leo's short lifespan wasn't exactly a secret in Night City. Kang Tao clearly thought this was a win-win.
However—
Just as the man stood up to make a dramatic exit, a voice came from behind.
"Get the fuck out."
Who knew how many traps a corporation would bury inside a so-called "gift"?
Clack.
The poorly latched case hit the floor, nearly spilling the chip out.
The Kang Tao representative's face darkened instantly. The bodyguards at the door stiffened, a low hum emanating from beneath their suits.
"Bastard—"
"Ahem." Rogue leaned against the wall across from the door. "Exit's that way."
The representative gestured to his guards. They picked up the case, and the group left.
Rogue turned to Leo inside the booth. "That much attitude? That was an easy payday."
"Not everything's worth taking."
Leo opened the portable gear case beside him, pulled out a neural activator, and injected it directly into a port next to his neural interface.
This was newly installed cyberware. A special pressure-channel structure accelerated drug distribution, boosting effect and reducing onset time.
Extreme Metal—the no-limits race—was massive. Every gang working under him had their own style. Managing them all was a serious mental load.
He was currently receiving signals from every district at once. The data density wasn't high—but things you couldn't offload to code always burned more brainpower.
Most importantly—
There was a lot of work happening in another world as well.
Seeing Leo like this, Rogue suddenly said, "When I first met you, you were a sickly meat-body. A few months later you're like this. You're pushing yourself hard. Even without your condition, people like you don't live long."
"Living too long isn't always a good thing."
"Not many would agree—but a lot of people are lining up to gamble their lives now."
Rogue's information network was impeccable. If Leo was the most well-connected among gangs, she was the most well-connected fixer.
Without corporate interference, once they cooperated, information flowed easily.
Like how hot the black market and underground clinics had become lately.
Honestly, if the corporations and the non-participating groups were skeptical at first, they'd now learned to embrace Burger King—
The money was bloody.
But damn, it was good.
After forwarding the data, Rogue asked, "You've done all this—but why? You don't look like someone who wants to be a corp dog. Thrill-seeking? Or… hunting AI?"
"Word travels fast."
Leo packed up his gear and walked out of the room.
The moment he stepped into the main hall, the club went noticeably quieter—
More precisely, the chatter stopped.
A long, alien mechanical arm.
A black cooling leather jacket.
Two mysterious cases full of unknown tools capable of flipping the table at any moment.
Leo looked at Rogue—the current queen of Afterlife, once a merc who shook Night City.
Time hadn't spared her.
Not just the aging features she could barely hide, or the white in her hair—
But something deeper.
Leo smiled at the Queen of Afterlife.
"Of course it's to become the boss."
As Leo left the club, conversation slowly flooded back into the roaring rock music.
Rogue sat down at the bar—a place she hadn't sat at in a long time.
Back when she was still a merc, she used to sit here often.
Claire, the bartender, looked at her boss with slight hesitation. "Drink?"
"One. Johnny Silverhand."
The kind of pull Leo had—
She knew one old friend who'd done something similar.
One concert that summoned tens of thousands and completely gridlocked Arasaka Tower.
But—
This one was even harder to read than Johnny.
Johnny did it with something mystical called "charisma."
What Leo was doing now was far more opaque. He wasn't wild or flamboyant like Johnny.
"…But just looking at the current situation—he's crazier," Rogue muttered, downing the cocktail in one go. She glanced at Claire. "By the way, did he leave a recipe?"
"Jackie did. V's got one too… probably a joke. He himself never mentioned one."
"Curious what he'd leave behind."