After finishing his meal early, Lin Mo parted ways with Rebecca and made his way to the bottom level of the megatower.
Outside, dusk had already fallen. The last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, and the streetlamps began flickering on, one by one.
A Delamain cab, which had been waiting in the parking lot all afternoon, finally stretched its wheels and rolled up in front of him.
Once inside, Lin Mo gave the command without hesitation:
"Lizzie's Bar."
"Destination updated: Lizzie's Bar. Estimated time of arrival: 15 minutes. Please sit back and relax, sir."
This particular megatower in Little China wasn't far from Lizzie's—both were located within Watson District.
"Sir, you appear a bit tired. Would you like me to play some radio music to lighten the mood?"
Staring out the window as night crept over the skyline, Lin Mo chuckled.
This AI can read expressions now?
Tired? Well… maybe just a bit. After running around all day socializing and building connections, it was only natural to feel some fatigue.
"Do you have Bo Bo Chicken?"
"Voice command recognized. Best match located. Now playing: PONPON SHIT."
The cabin filled with that brainworm of a song he used to hear constantly while gaming. As the familiar melody played, Lin Mo finally started to relax.
"Sir, your schedule today has been rather packed," the AI remarked out of nowhere.
No shit it's been busy. That damn simulator's rating wasn't flattering at all…
——[Time Management Master]
That was the title the simulator had given him after wrapping up the previous day's run.
A phrase with slightly sarcastic undertones back on Blue Earth, and Lin Mo wasn't happy about it—nor did he get it.
Sure, he'd spoken to a lot of people that day. But it was all for the sake of building his organization. What part of that deserved such a mocking title?
But the simulator didn't take feedback. The evaluation was final. Lin Mo couldn't do anything to change it.
He continued staring out the window, suddenly not in the mood to talk.
Sensing this, the AI went silent. The cab fell into a calm, wordless atmosphere.
When the Delamain pulled up to the curb, Lin Mo stepped out and immediately spotted the familiar neon glow of the braindance club.
Just like always, a few members of the Mox lounged around outside—some standing, others sitting—chatting amongst themselves.
Closest to the door stood a woman holding a bat, her hair tied up in two buns, synthetic skin reflecting a faint plastic sheen. It was the same woman he saw the first time he'd visited Lizzie's.
Seeing Lin Mo approach, the bun-haired woman gave him a welcoming smile and stepped forward with a sultry tone:
"Mr. Lin, haven't seen you around all week. Been too busy to stop by?"
I think her name's… Rikki? Lin Mo tried to recall.
Unlike his first visit, where he was sized up and dismissed, Lin Mo was now considered a regular—especially since he often came by with Falco and Pilar.
Every visit, he dropped generous amounts of cash and tips. Naturally, that made him a VIP in the eyes of the Mox working here.
"Yeah, been pretty busy lately, so I haven't had a chance to swing by. But someone asked to meet tonight, so here I am." Lin Mo answered casually, casting a glance sideways as if checking the time.
"Time's tight—I'll head in now."
Rikki gave a sweet laugh and stepped aside. "Then I hope you have a wonderful dream tonight, Mr. Lin."
Lin Mo nodded silently and stepped through the door.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the deafening music of the bar hit him like a wall—worlds apart from the quiet outside.
At the counter, a Mox bartender recognized him instantly and lit up with a smile.
"Welcome back, Mr. Lin. The usual? A private booth?"
He nodded. His eyes lit up with a soft blue glow as he silently transferred the payment to her.
"This is for the room," he said.
"And this is your tip."
Her smile widened even more.
If she weren't already familiar with him—and aware that he didn't like excessive flattery—she'd have been showering him with compliments by now.
As he stepped deeper into the bar, the crowd was just as packed as usual. Lin Mo scanned the sea of faces, looking for the person he was supposed to meet tonight.
No sign of Pilar or Falco—his usual drinking buddies. Maybe it was for the best. Fewer people meant fewer greetings to deal with.
Soon enough, he spotted his target.
In a corner booth, a broad-shouldered man lounged with one leg crossed over the other, nursing a glass of liquor. Rugged face, man-bun hairstyle, a heavy black coat with a red-lined collar—he gave off instant "steel-jawed badass" energy.
His posture seemed calm and relaxed, but subtle tells gave him away: the bouncing foot, the way he sipped his drink while his eyes wandered restlessly.
Seeing him there on time, Lin Mo's lips curled into a smile.
Jackie Welles.
In the game, your ride-or-die choom. In Night City, a true legend.
Lin Mo took a moment to fix his appearance, then walked toward the booth with a sincere smile.
Jackie spotted him and grinned. The two locked eyes.
"Well, well—our golden boy finally shows. Took your sweet time, huh?" He scooted over to make room.
"Sorry. Had a lot on my plate today. Got held up and couldn't make it on time. Hope you don't mind, big bro Jackie."
Lin Mo sat down casually beside him.
"No worries. You're the guest of honor tonight—I'm just playing support. We're barely off schedule anyway."
Jackie laughed and leaned back, draping his arm across the top of the booth seat.
Then his gaze softened, voice dropping as he spoke with a touch of emotion:
"Y'know... if I hadn't seen it myself, I'd never have believed it. That punk kid I once bumped into at Misty's shop... look at you now. A guy even I gotta show respect to."
Back in the day, when Lin Mo first got to know Viktor and Misty, he also got introduced to Jackie.
In fact, to win Jackie over, Lin Mo had deliberately spent time hanging around Misty, playing the innocent kid, pretending to seek advice and spiritual healing.
Eventually, Misty saw him as a kind of kid brother. And through that connection, he got to know Jackie, who often dropped by the shop.
Because of that bond, Jackie had always treated him like a younger brother—not super close, but with a thread of familiarity between them.
Now it was time to rekindle that thread—and build it into something stronger.
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