He finished speaking and handed Vik a chip containing detailed specs and data regarding the shipment of cyberware.
Clearly, this wasn’t his first time delivering to Vik; he was fairly familiar with the layout of the shop.
“Alright.” Vik reached out, took the chip, and slotted it into the shop’s terminal.
Although Vik’s clinic was technically an underground ripperdoc joint, unlike other shady operations, the cyberware he stocked was legit merchandise bought from authorized suppliers.
Granted, plenty of parts were second-hand, but they were chrome swapped out through proper channels—not scavenged parts stripped off corpses by Scavengers.
The cyberware provided by these suppliers came from reliable sources, traceable from production model to batch numbers and distribution channels.
All Vik was doing now was a routine check before taking delivery.
“L, come take a look.
Most of this chrome was ordered for you anyway.
Better verify it yourself.” Vik called over to Loki, motioning for him to help inspect the inventory.
As Vik said, most of the cyberware had indeed been ordered for Loki.
Over the past two years, Loki had grown into a fully qualified ripperdoc.
While Vik’s shop had a steady clientele, it clearly didn’t need two ripperdocs under one roof.
So not long ago, with Vik’s help and the money he had saved up over the last two years, Loki had rented a space to open a ripperdoc clinic of his own.
The clinic was currently under renovation, and this shipment was ordered by Vik to stock Loki’s initial inventory—with Vik fronting the cash for now, of course.
“Oh, right.
Sure.” Loki snapped out of his daze at the sound of Vik’s voice.
Ever since these delivery men walked into the clinic, that strange sensation inside him had grown much stronger.
It had peaked the moment the guy in the suit pulled out the inventory chip.
Now Loki was certain there was something inside that chip extremely important to him.
Vik slotted the chip, and its contents were quickly rendered on screen.
Loki composed himself, fixing his attention on the monitor.
“Kiroshi Optics, Stephenson cyberdecks, Gorilla Arms…” Vik went down the manifest, checking the cyberware inside the storage crates.
Watching Vik verify all the chrome, Loki frowned.
He hadn’t spotted anything suspicious.
Once the inspection confirmed everything was in order, Vik transferred the remaining balance into the supplier’s account.
“Thank you for supporting our company.
We look forward to serving you again.”
Having completed the transaction, the suit delivered his boilerplate thanks and left with his guards.
Seeing the couriers leave, Loki pointed to the chip on the table.
“Vik, can I hold on to this chip?
Want to take a look at something.”
“Sure.” Vik handed the chip directly to Loki.
The chip belonged to the buyer anyway, and the supplier wouldn’t take it back.
Since only a small portion of the shipment was for restocking Vik’s clinic while the rest would end up at Loki’s place, it made complete sense for him to keep it.
“Alright, I’m heading out.
See you tomorrow, Vik.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Pocketing the crucial chip, Loki threw on his jacket, packed up his things, and bade Vik farewell.
Stepping out of Vik’s clinic, a handful of Night City locals were sitting or standing around the narrow alley.
Grouped in twos and threes, some gossiped about gang wars and cyberpsychos, while others cursed corp oppression and societal injustice.
Loki was long used to all of it.
Reaching the main street, he saw mostly hurried pedestrians.
Little China at night lacked the bustling flair of neighboring Kabuki or Japantown and wasn’t an entertainment hub.
Most people here were ordinary workers who had just offed the clock, rushing home to enjoy the precious little time left after being bled dry by the corps.
Turning a corner onto the next street, he spotted several NCPD officers engaging a cyberpsycho.
Although cyberpsychos appeared less frequently in Little China, they were hardly rare.
Civilians around the area scattered in panic, yet tragically, quite a few innocent bystanders still lost their lives.
Watching half a body—blasted dozens of meters away by the cyberpsycho’s Projectile Launch System—skid right to his feet, Loki quickly stepped back two paces to avoid the blood splatter.
The mangled face barely revealed a middle-aged woman, and with his sharp eyesight, he could spot the work ID pinned to her chest.
Just an ordinary laborer.
Glaring at the half-corpse staring up at him with unseeing eyes, Loki didn’t linger to watch the show.
Skillfully turning around, he took a detour home.
Absurd as it might seem, this was Night City.
This was cyberpunk—a twisted society in the craziest city on Earth.
Megacorps ruled from on high, draining every last Eddie from the populace.
Down below, a labyrinth of gangs waged endless turf wars that flooded the streets with bloodshed.
Worse still were the cyberpsychos—dehumanized monsters packed with terrifying combat cyberware—who could snap at any moment and harvest innocent lives.
Oppression and despair were the underlying theme of this glitzy metropolis, and scraping by was the reality for those living at the bottom.
That was precisely why Loki had pestered Vik to teach him so much.
Surviving in this shitshow of a city was no easy task.
You needed both a way to earn a living and the strength to handle lethal danger.
You couldn’t do without either.
Loki lived close to Vik’s clinic, just two blocks away.
Before long, he was back at his apartment in Megabuilding H10.
“Let’s see what this is all about.”
Taking a shower to relax his exhausted, aching body, Loki gathered his thoughts and slotted the chip into his personal system slot.
The chip loaded instantly.
Beside the manifest he had seen at the clinic, there was an unknown program hidden inside.
Knowing the answer lay within, Loki executed the program out of intense curiosity.
[Dimensional Mod Library Probe No.
1145149527007 running…]
[Attempting connection to Main Repository…]
[Connection established!]
[Performing adaptive system installation…]
A series of pop-up windows flooded Loki’s internal HUD.
Staring at these unfamiliar yet strangely recognizable prompts, his brain went slightly numb.
‘Is this…
a system?’ Assuming this wasn’t an elaborate prank, Loki heavily suspected his golden finger had finally arrived.
It was just a little late, and its entry method was definitely weird.
[Installation complete!]
The prompt indicated the installation was complete, and a new subsystem named “Mod Library” appeared in his personal interface.