4: Chapter 4 Bai Ze Activation

The drizzle outside El Coyote Cojo had not yet stopped.

But inside, Lin Yi and Jackie felt a fire burning.

The two crossed the dim alleyway and arrived once again at the familiar barred door of the clinic.

Inside the clinic, Viktor Vektor had his back to the door, hunched over his workbench. His prosthetic arm, connected to various precision surgical tools, was steadily holding a micro-neural probe, calibrating it on a complex piece of equipment. His own eyes were focused on the waterfall of data cascading down the screen, viewed through an arm-mounted multispectral magnifier.

Jackie plopped carelessly into the medical chair, which let out a screeching groan.

"Hey, Viktor! Back to bring you some business!"

Viktor's movements didn't pause in the slightest.

Not until he finished that delicate operation did he slowly switch off the magnifier's light and move the mechanical arm away from the workbench. He turned around, looking at the two who had returned with eyes that were slightly cloudy from age and overwork, yet remained sharp—eyes that were entirely human.

Especially at Lin Yi.

He raised an eyebrow and asked in that signature, steady, slightly raspy voice: "What is it? Problems with the wound? I told you not to move around too much lately."

His gaze fell on Lin Yi's still somewhat pale face. His tone carried the unquestionable authority peculiar to a doctor.

"The wound is fine, Viktor. Your craftsmanship is impeccable."

Lin Yi stepped forward, took a deep breath, and retrieved the black, streamlined container from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I want to ask you... to install a new 'part' for me."

He placed the container on the workbench.

Viktor's gaze fell upon it, and his brow immediately furrowed.

"What is this? This container... I've never seen this kind of craftsmanship." He looked up at Lin Yi, his tone becoming serious. "Kid, the rule here is—I only install parts I trust, ones that have been market-verified. Unknown items, especially implants, the water runs deep with those."

His attitude was clear. This was his consistent principle.

"It doesn't need a brand."

Lin Yi said, following the blurry memories flashing in his mind, and pressed his thumb against a nearly invisible indentation on the surface of the container.

"Biometric verification in progress... Verification successful. Welcome, Engineer Lin Wei."

An extremely faint, yet crystal-clear synthesized electronic voice emanated from inside the container.

A series of dark golden streams of light suddenly lit up on the container's surface, as if it had been infused with life. The previously seamless shell slid open silently, revealing the deep black shock-absorbing, temperature-controlled material inside—an artifact perfectly embedded within.

The air in the clinic seemed to freeze.

Jackie's mouth hung open, and after a long while, he blurted out: "Oh Dios mío... damn... this thing looks fucking expensive!"

Viktor's reaction, however, was completely different.

His pupils contracted slightly. He leaned forward. Subconsciously, he activated the arm-mounted magnifier to carefully examine the object inside the container.

His expression shifted from confusion to shock, and finally into a kind of... reverent vigilance.

It didn't look like an industrial product at all.

The warm, jade-like milky white shell—with a texture like suet—enveloped the deep red core in the center, which seemed to be breathing and contained rivers of molten gold. The red core.

It lay there quietly, yet it radiated a heart-stopping, understated, and deadly beauty.

"This... this is..."

Viktor's voice lost its usual steadiness and took on a rasp. "Kid, where did you get this?! This technology... this design... I've never seen it before! This isn't any neural link on the market!"

He looked up, his sharp gaze locked onto Lin Yi.

"The energy signature it's emitting... is terrifyingly quiet. And... terrifyingly dangerous. This thing is too hot to handle! And—what does 'Lin Wei' mean?"

Lin Yi had long anticipated Viktor's reaction.

A helpless, bitter smile appeared on his face: "If I'm not mistaken, this should be... a limited edition. The only one in existence. I can't tell you where it came from—if I do, we might both be in big trouble. Viktor, I only trust your craftsmanship."

He paused.

"As for the name, that's just my past. Just call me Lin Yi now."

He carefully took "Bai Ze" out of the container and handed it to Viktor.

"Can you help me run a basic compatibility check first? See if there will be any rejection between it and my nervous system."

Viktor hesitated for a moment.

But as a top ripperdoc, his professional curiosity and sense of responsibility ultimately won out.

He took "Bai Ze". It felt cold and delicate to the touch, far surpassing any metal or composite material he had ever encountered. He connected it to a multi-interface diagnostic device.

The data on the screen began to jump wildly.

Viktor's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.

"What the hell... the biological lock is engaged, responding only to your unique neural signature... The internal structure is undetectable—there's some kind of terrifying ICE barrier. This thing comes with its own ICE?... The base power consumption reading is extremely low, but the potential output power..."

He yanked the connection, as if afraid of disturbing something inside.

"My equipment is about to redline."

He let out a long breath, looking at Lin Yi with an incredibly complicated expression.

"Kid, I don't know who you really are. But I have to tell you—installing this might be more dangerous than taking that bullet. Its potential... or rather, its 'appetite,' is astonishingly large. Your brain likely won't be able to handle the load when it's running at full power."

"I know."

Lin Yi's reply was exceptionally calm. But his gaze was incredibly firm.

"But I need it. Just like in Night City—sometimes, you need a gun that can kill everyone, not a toy that can only scare people."

Viktor stared at him.

For a full ten seconds.

The only sound left in the clinic was the low hum of the instruments.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, as if making a difficult decision.

"Alright, kid. Lie back in the chair."

He glanced at Jackie: "Jackie, go sit over there and don't make a sound."

His tone returned to his usual calm and professional demeanor. He began skillfully preparing the anesthetic and surgical tools—that complex set of external mechanical arms and laser scalpels.

"I'll install it for you. But how to tame it is your own business. I'll try to minimize the neural shock during implantation... the rest is up to fate."

Cold anesthetic was injected into his vein.

Lin Yi's consciousness began to blur.

The last thing he saw was Viktor operating the mechanical arm, steadily holding the artifact that combined the "suet" and the "red core," moving it precisely toward the back of his neck.

...

He didn't know how much time had passed. In a deep darkness and void.

A clear, cold, emotionless synthesized electronic voice, like the first command at the dawn of creation, rang out directly in the deepest part of his consciousness—

[System self-test initiated...]

[Neural bridging stability: 100%]

['red core' quantum processor online: Status normal]

['suet' thermal management module: Running]

[Core function module verification...]

[...Verification successful.]

[Please enter username]

[Welcome, sole user: Lin Yi.]

Lin Yi's consciousness was violently pulled back to reality.

He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the familiar ceiling of the clinic. A slight, cold sensation of a foreign object came from the back of his neck. But it wasn't uncomfortable.

He subconsciously wanted to move his fingers. A thought had just emerged—

[Command received: Motor nerve signals normal.]

The voice appeared directly in his mind!

At the same time, in the upper right corner of his vision, a minimalist Kang Tao logo, outlined in thin golden lines, flashed by. Below it was a small symbol representing system standby—[Standby].

He moved his thoughts again, trying to "feel" the new organ.

Instantly—

An extremely complex, detailed technical document bearing the top-secret watermark of Kang Tao unfolded in his mind like an explosion!

Countless data, parameters, warning clauses, functional descriptions... surged in!

His gaze instantly locked onto the project codename and performance summary on the first page of the document.

Just one second.

The color drained completely from his face.

He was struck as if by lightning, completely stunned on the surgical chair.

He muttered to himself—

"...'Bai Ze'... Theoretical upper limit of RAM base bandwidth..."

"Per second... 32PB?!"

"Holy shit, what... what kind of joke is this?! This is a neural link?! This is practically..."