Roughly two to three hours later—
T-Bug finally arrived at the MaxTac experimental complex.
At first, the look she gave Roqi wasn't exactly friendly. Only after confirming that there truly was no threat did she breathe a visible sigh of relief and start dismantling all the precautions she had secretly set up—precautions that even left Roqi stunned.
From bulletproof armor to an armored vehicle for escape, from smokescreens to vision-blocking drones pumping out electromagnetic interference...
Roqi had every reason to believe that, if she hadn't already made these preparations well in advance, this two-to-three-hour delay would've easily doubled.
That's when he noticed a detail—
As meticulous as T-Bug was, she wasn't flawless. Take Konpeki Plaza, for example. Back then, she'd been completely lured in by Dex's grand promises and lost the one trait every top-tier netrunner must always hold: absolute composure and unshakable judgment.
If it hadn't been for Roqi insisting she leave behind an emergency backdoor, those few seconds that had made the difference between life and death would've been lost.
T-Bug understood that too.
Since then, her caution had leveled up again. Every time she took on a job, she came with full safeguards and backups.
Which was why stepping into the headquarters of MaxTac felt so utterly wrong to her.
These weren't your average gangers behind these doors.
If someone tossed a double-barrel shotgun into hell, the devils would scramble to flee.
But if you pissed off the people behind this door, even those same devils would get hunted down by armored gunships and dragged back to the underworld.
MaxTac.
To T-Bug, that word represented lethal force capable of wiping out a city block with just a handful of agents.
She knew her combat power wasn't much better than a goose's.
Sure, her hacking was top-notch—she could quickhack multiple MaxTac agents face-to-face.
But the top-tier implants and defensive systems these agents had meant her hacks would take too long, with significantly reduced effectiveness.
No matter the job, netrunners knew to steer clear of people with high cyber-resistance and high physical threat levels.
And now?
She was surrounded by them.
Staring.
Studying her like she was some rare zoo exhibit.
T-Bug: ...
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to slam Roqi's head into the nearest desk and run at lightspeed out of this cursed place.
Even being stared at was making her body shake.
Dammit, I believed you!
But once she realized both Roqi and Mower were part of MaxTac, and that she couldn't possibly beat either of them, she was filled with a deep sense of regret for voluntarily walking into a lion's den.
Her already dark skin couldn't show her paling expression, but she was definitely not okay.
"Relax, relax. They're all friends here."
Seeing T-Bug being circled and gawked at like some rare creature, Roqi quickly tried to smooth things over.
MaxTac's intimidation tactics were simple—
Just stand next to someone, say absolutely nothing, and let your mere presence scream, "I can tear your head off at any moment."
T-Bug was surprised by Roqi's words.
In her mind, Roqi had always been the type of freelance merc who lived in the gray zones—skirting the edge of the law every day.
Sure, he didn't do evil, but he was never exactly on the same side as the cops either.
Now? He wasn't just standing with them—he was one of them.
In a brief panic, T-Bug checked her criminal record again.
That was the 30th time since Roqi's call.
Still no charges severe enough to warrant MaxTac attention.
Only after the surrounding MaxTac agents backed off did she finally feel like she could breathe again.
"You can start working now, netrunner."
After delivering their tactical intimidation, the agents walked off, boots echoing.
T-Bug didn't move. Her eyes followed them all the way to the door, watched it close, and only then did she visibly relax.
Roqi silently raised his hands: Not my fault.
He hadn't expected MaxTac's hospitality to be… so special.
Exactly like their law enforcement style: intense and direct.
Still, the intimidation had worked perfectly.
Other than the three technicians who had developed the training chip, there were two full MaxTac operatives standing guard.
Technicians in MaxTac couldn't be underestimated either—most of them could fight. But even so, full combat personnel were still tasked with guarding them.
Meanwhile, Melissa Rory sat off to the side, sipping tea like a literal guardian deity—immovable, unshakable.
Even Roqi couldn't help but glance at her several times—only to be met with a warning glare.
Mower had exited training mode, removed the test chip (one of many versions), and handed it to T-Bug.
"I personally think this chip is quite excellent."
She emphasized the value of recompiling the chip, clearly approving of its potential.
T-Bug just nodded silently.
In terms of risk, whether this was a training chip or an 18+ erotic visual novel didn't matter—it all posed the same hacking challenge.
Still, her nerves had calmed—Roqi hadn't lied. This place really was secure.
As long as she didn't do anything stupid.
Like, say, hacking into MaxTac's systems.
Even in 2077, there were still idiots who didn't understand the threat of netrunners. MaxTac wasn't one of them.
T-Bug pulled out a device.
Then another. Then some data cables.
Then another device.
A flurry of operations followed—none of which Roqi could understand—but the machines came online flawlessly.
Then came the key moment.
T-Bug inserted the training chip into a slot.
It began reading.
Ironically, that was the only step Roqi could follow.
"Let's see…"
T-Bug's eyes glowed blue as she jacked her wrist's data line into the machine.
"Ah, it'll take a bit. The chip's tech is top-tier, and it's made from some seriously new materials."
One of the MaxTac technicians watching nodded in approval—clearly pleased his work had impressed someone.
For the first time, Roqi saw something human in these strange tech staffers.
They'd always given him "mad scientist" vibes.
But in truth, everyone in MaxTac was a little odd—it was part of the hiring process.
"Say, why can't we just plug the chip into someone's brain?"
Roqi asked during the waiting period.
"What kind of question is that?" T-Bug chuckled.
Still, Roqi was a layman—stupid questions were fair game.
"We're reading the chip, not using it. That involves heavy data throughput—hardware handles that better than brains."
Top-tier netrunners usually had powerful internal control systems and high-speed neural processors.
Netwatch's OS chips were the industry gold standard.
From Seocho Electronics to Biodyne, Stephenson Tech to Tetratronic Rippler…
Even the infamous "Raven Microcyber"—developed by the Maelstrom psychos in Watson—was favored by many wild netrunners.
Simple. Brutal. Reliable. Durable.
But elite netrunners like T-Bug?
They sought military-grade, highly confidential, Militech or Netwatch-only OS chips.
Like the best cyberware, without a solid framework, installing one of these chips into a regular brain was like strapping a jet engine onto a golf cart.
Except the thing that exploded wouldn't be the engine—but your skull.
T-Bug once said: that kind of crash would deep-fry your brain.
All your synapses bursting like bacon fat in a frying pan. No torture compared to that level of agony.
Yet netrunners used these systems for speed and precision—like neurosurgeons performing real-time operations.
Their job wasn't to brute-force ICE with raw data.
It was to find weaknesses—and surgically exploit them.
Every netrunner had their own hacking style.
But one thing remained constant: offense and defense were both a race against time.
Elite netrunners operated in milliseconds.
In cyberspace, there were no cover systems.
Screw up once—leave yourself exposed for even a moment—and you were done.
You wouldn't even have time to react before your brain was fried.
Just like sniper duels—except more lethal, more layered, and more personal.
Penetrate defenses. Plant traps. Mask your presence. Exploit vulnerabilities…
And do it all yourself.
No team. No support.
Every elite netrunner was a tactical mastermind.
And their OS chips? Their lifelines.
Only clueless scrubs thought OS chips were "overrated."
Trying to pit a bargain-bin neural chip against a black-market military implant was like racing a scooter against a supercar.
Not everyone was Takumi Fujiwara, and not every OS chip was an AE86.
That's how crucial operating systems are to netrunners.
But when it comes to analyzing and recompiling a chip?
You don't need precision—you need brute computing force.
Think of it this way—
Recompiling a chip is like grinding a ton of rock-hard meat.
The elite netrunner is a chef with surgical knife skills. The devices? Industrial meat grinders.
Nobody uses a chef's knife for this.
Save your skills for where they matter.
After T-Bug explained all that, Roqi slapped his thigh. That makes sense now!
"Weren't you planning to learn some hacking yourself?" T-Bug suddenly asked.
"Huh? Was I?"
Roqi scratched his head—then remembered.
"Oh right, that was V. He's the one who needed it."
"Did he go? I recommended someone for basic training."
"Uh… I kinda forgot."
Roqi grinned awkwardly.
T-Bug sighed.
Minutes ticked by. Her shoulders finally relaxed.
Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.
"Here's my current plan—use a braindance headset and editing gloves. The headset's just a player. The gloves let you interact with it."
She pulled out a box.
It was bright and colorful. Clearly new packaging.
"This is a pair of editing gloves made by Fuyutsuki Electronics. They're two years old, but better than newer models in terms of responsiveness and feel."
She handed it to Roqi.
"Took some digging to find warehouse stock."
Roqi looked at the box and got a weird vibe.
Like someone had just handed him a brand-new Xbox controller.
It looked... fun.
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MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW?
🤖💘 MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW? 💘🤖
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📢 LOVE MEETS CYBERPSYCHOSIS! 📢
My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew? has 100+ chapters ahead available on Patreon! 💘💥
Romance is already complicated.
Now add:
🌃 Night City🦾 Cyberware🔫 Gunfights💀 Cyberpsychosis💥 Property damage❤️ And a girlfriend who might snap at any moment
Love hurts.
In this case, it might also come with bullets, broken walls, and emergency trauma care.
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