Rebecca rapidly scanned the forced window's contents.
Clearly listed: detailed component analysis of a bestselling painkiller Biotechnica marketed years ago, undisclosed failed clinical trial data, plus internal email exchanges—iron-clad evidence the company had long known the drug caused neural degeneration and eventual death in users, yet deliberately concealed this for massive profits, continuing sales.
Bottom of the window displayed partial known victim information in bold—anonymized, but behind those cold statistics lay countless shattered families and silently extinguished lives.
"Fuck..." Rebecca cursed quietly, but her heart accelerated uncontrollably.
She instantly understood what this was—the "Blackwall Announcement" the boss promised! He'd actually pulled it off, in this all-consuming, unstoppable manner!
While Rebecca reeled internally, she noticed Kiwi across from her was extremely off.
This usually calm, even cold netrunner now had fine cold sweat beading her forehead, face pale.
Her fingers rapidly tapped and swiped in midair—clearly conducting fierce countermeasures through her neural interface.
But her movements lasted barely three seconds before abruptly stopping, like invisible force viciously gripping her throat.
She grunted, body leaning back against the chair, chest slightly heaving, eyes filled with incredible shock.
"It's you... no, not you..." Kiwi's head snapped up, gaze shooting toward Rebecca like knives, voice carrying barely detectable trembling. "Just now... something... came through the Blackwall..."
Her words fragmented from shock.
As a netrunner constantly navigating network edges, she understood far better than most bar patrons what just happened.
That wasn't ordinary netrunner intrusion—that exploited Blackwall protocol characteristics itself, executing a near-miraculous global broadcast!
The instant she attempted countermeasures, what she felt wasn't ordinary firewall resistance but seeming to directly face a vast, boundless dark ocean composed of rules and code.
Her intrusion tricks before that power were minuscule as trying to topple skyscrapers with toothpicks.
Just the information flow and authority pressure feeding back from that contact moment nearly fried her implant's protection circuits, causing immediate "brain death."
Using the Blackwall for intrusion? This was completely beyond her knowledge system!
This transcended "exceptional skills," touching realms she couldn't comprehend.
While Kiwi remained shocked, brain racing through which legendary netrunner or nation-state-level force had acted, preparing to immediately flee this dangerous place—Rebecca muttered quietly, tone carrying pride-by-association excitement: "Holy shit... worthy of the boss! He actually pulled it off!"
Those words struck Kiwi like lightning.
She whipped around, staring hard at Rebecca. Previous panic replaced by intensely burning curiosity and investigative desire.
"Boss?" Kiwi's voice dropped low yet carried undeniable urgency. "Rebecca! You know who did this? Just now... that Blackwall thing... your 'boss behind the scenes'?"
Rebecca froze, realizing she'd slipped up.
She instinctively tried deflecting, gaze somewhat evasive: "Huh? What boss? I dunno what you're talking about... probably just some big shot who doesn't like Biotechnica making moves?"
But Kiwi couldn't possibly be fooled by such crude performance.
She leaned forward across the table, gaze practically boring into Rebecca's eyes: "Don't play dumb! That sentence just now, plus your current reaction... you definitely know inside info! Tell me, Rebecca—who just made that move?"
Rebecca felt annoyed being pressured by Kiwi's stare. She raked through hair, knowing she couldn't hide it.
Moreover, seeing Kiwi's extreme interest in the "boss's" technical display—a thought rose in her mind. Maybe this was an opportunity?
"Fine, fine!" Rebecca seemed surrendering resistance, but cunning flashed through her eyes. "Yeah, that just now was our boss's handiwork. Pretty badass, right?"
She deliberately used boastful tone.
Kiwi ignored her tone, pressing: "Who is he? What kind of existence? How could he... how could he do something like that?"
"Boss is boss, y'know." Rebecca shrugged, beginning to bullshit while mixing in some personal "sales pitch." "A... well, technically brilliant guy, bit of a weird temperament, but generous when it counts.
We're working for him now. Wanna know more? Simple—accept recruitment, join us. Maybe you'll get chances meeting him personally, asking face-to-face."
She paused, recalling Cairo's emotionless mechanical face and equivalent exchange principles, adding: "But fair warning—boss's temper isn't great, and he never lets anyone freeload.
You want getting anything from him—knowledge, tech, equipment—you gotta pay sufficient prices as trade. No free lunches—that's ironclad with the boss."
Kiwi fell silent.
Face beneath hood hidden in shadows, expression unclear. Only slightly pressed lips showed her fierce inner struggle.
She felt irrepressible curiosity toward Rebecca's "boss" plus technologists' instinctive longing when facing cognition-transcending tech.
Ability exploiting the Blackwall—the technical prowess and knowledge systems behind that were unimaginable.
If she could gain even scraps of guidance, or just close-range observation and learning, her netrunning career might experience qualitative leaps.
But on the other hand, her deep-rooted solo wolf habits instinctively rejected and guarded against things like "joining crews" or "swearing loyalty to someone."
That meant losing freedom, meant entrusting personal safety to others—what she'd avoided for years.
Risks versus opportunities frantically weighed in her mind.
Lizzie's Bar music had resumed. Surrounding patrons recovered from initial shock, beginning buzzing discussions speculating that citywide "data storm's" source and purpose.
Biotechnica's scandal exposed this explosively—foreseeable that Night City's public opinion and underground world would soon face no small earthquake.
Amid this gradually recovering clamorous background, Kiwi finally raised her head. Her gaze recovered previous calm but held deeper glimmers of determination.
"Alright." She looked at Rebecca, voice clear and steady. "I'm in."
This time Rebecca was somewhat surprised: "You sure? Thought it through? Our boss has lots of rules, plus upcoming jobs probably won't be easier than today's business."
"I'm sure." Kiwi nodded. "But I have one condition, or rather... request. I hope you'll arrange for me meeting this 'boss' soon. I need confirming whether he's... worth my loyalty."
She used the word "loyalty," not simple "cooperation."
Rebecca understood—for someone like Kiwi, making this decision was incredibly difficult.
"Gotta ask Maine and the boss himself about that." Rebecca didn't immediately guarantee. "But rest assured—since you nodded, you're one of us now. I'll get you word ASAP."
She raised her half-full glass, gesturing toward Kiwi: "Welcome aboard, Kiwi. Though future days might be even more fucking intense."
Kiwi didn't raise glasses, just nodded slightly.
She picked up her comm device, silently changing Rebecca's contact notation from "Potential Client" to "Crew Member (Under Observation)."
Toward the future, she remained full of uncertainty and wariness, but that thirst for supreme technical knowledge temporarily overrode everything.
She wanted knowing—that "boss" who could leverage the Blackwall, exactly what kind of existence was he? And where would this choice lead her?
Outside the bar, Night City's neon continued flickering, as if that brief data storm never happened.
But certain people's fate trajectories had already, silently and soundlessly, completely diverged.
------------
2 chapters coming at 12!