10: Chapter 10 Farewell to the "Cage"

Clutching a warm stack of cash, enough to make any street punk in Watson green with envy, the first thing Lin Yi did wasn't to splurge—it was to immediately contact Jackie.

"What? You're moving? And you're fucking moving to Westbrook? Near North Oak, no less?!" Jackie's voice on the other end of the comms nearly shattered the earpiece. "Brother, did you mine your way through an Arasaka vault? That place is—"

"I know, corporate suits and celebrities' turf." Lin Yi interrupted him, his tone laced with irrepressible excitement. "That's why I need a safe and quiet nest. Plus... I need to use their network cables. The signal interference in Watson is fucking ridiculous."

"Hiss... you kid." Jackie smacked his lips. "Fine! I can't reach North Oak, but I know a guy in Charter Hill who's looking to rent out a place. Heard it's pretty good, security is comparable to the base of Arasaka Tower—but it's ridiculously expensive. As for parts... tsk, top-tier gear isn't easy to get. It's all down to luck, same everywhere."

Jackie pulled some strings, and things moved faster than he had expected.

In the end, he rented a high-end apartment near Charter Hill in the Westbrook district. The air here was different from Watson—it lacked that pungent smell of exhaust and the stench of the crowded lower class, replaced by something cold, smelling of disinfectant and money. On the shimmering holographic billboards, the products being advertised were essentially luxuries that ordinary people wouldn't touch in a lifetime. Well-dressed pedestrians walked by in a hurry, their eyes mostly carrying a sense of numb superiority.

The new home was in the middle floors of a skyscraper. 24-hour armed security, iris-verified elevators, and a dedicated network line with absurdly high bandwidth. Pushing open the door, outside the floor-to-ceiling windows lay the unreal, glittering skyline of Westbrook, with the dark, hulking silhouette of Arasaka Tower still visible in the distance. The decor was modern, with a fully equipped smart home system. Cold, but extremely efficient.

"Damn, this environment is worth half the rent alone." Lin Yi threw himself into the ergonomic sofa and let out a long breath. His account balance had instantly shrunk significantly, but this relative sense of extreme security and dignity was something that the cage-like rental in Watson could never provide.

A few days later, he went downstairs to the ridiculously expensive cafe on the corner to buy an energy drink. A low-key luxury sedan, clearly a corporate asset, was parked on the side of the road.

V stepped out of the car wearing her signature corporate suit, her face weary. She was speaking in a low, firm voice to the air—actually to her internal comms: "...Tell Sanders I need to see this account on my desk by tomorrow morning. I don't care what she has to do."

Hanging up the comms, she took a deep breath and rubbed her temples. As she looked up, she happened to lock eyes with Lin Yi, who was wearing a newly bought casual jacket and holding a coffee.

A brief moment of eye contact. In V's eyes was the vigilance and aloofness typical of corporate elites, and a weariness that she couldn't hide no matter how hard she tried.

Lin Yi's [Insight] activated at ultra-low power (~0.1%): [Target: Female. Identity high probability: Mid-level corporate management/Senior security. Emotional state: Extremely fatigued, high pressure, angry (suppressed). Threat level: Medium. Cyberware configuration: Military-grade (restricted by corporate protocol).]

He muttered to himself: "Tsk, that face... looks like being a corporate dog isn't easy either, V. No matter how much you earn, you're still just a salaryman." Then he walked away as if nothing had happened.

V just took him for an ordinary, reasonably well-off neighbor—perhaps a newly promoted executive from some corporation? She didn't pay much attention and turned to walk quickly into the apartment building.

After settling in, Lin Yi dove headfirst into his new "studio"—the top-tier terminal in the corner of the living room. The network speed in Westbrook doubled his data processing efficiency. Through several black market nodes with extremely high encryption levels, he once again dove into the digital underground world.

It was filled with all sorts of shady transactions, but compared to the black market in Watson, the level was clearly a cut above, with plenty of confidential information leaked from within corporations and high-end custom services.

He carefully filtered through information regarding "RAM Tuning." The latest generation of Militech's "Daedalus" series, like Arasaka's "Rock" series, was priceless and unmarketable, with terrifyingly high risks.

But "Bai Ze" and [Insight] did not disappoint him. After efficiently filtering out 99% of the junk information, an inconspicuous message hidden among a large number of old cyberware advertisements jumped into his field of vision.

Seller: Anonymous (Reputation Rating: A-, 309 transactions completed, 99% positive rating)

Item: [Militech "Daedalus" Series RAM Tuner]

Status: Second-hand, tested to be fully functional, no official maintenance records.

Description: "Used by a girl, just kidding, but it's got kick. If you know your stuff, come get it. No haggling. Suspected to be from a lab clearing out inventory."

[Insight] Analysis: [Information authenticity: 94%. Seller has good reputation, tends to deal in "antiques" rather than scams. Item description is basically accurate. Performance evaluation: Currently top-tier prohibited model, stability questionable, but potential is huge. Compatibility warning: Source description is false; analysis traces it back to Pacifica—Dogtown.]

"That's the one." Lin Yi's eyes lit up. This outdated but top-tier laboratory prototype was exactly what he needed—performance far exceeding ordinary retail goods, and relatively covert because it was "outdated" and "unrecorded." As for the compatibility issue? He had enough confidence in himself—or rather, in "Bai Ze" and the engineering foundation of this body.

He placed the order decisively, paying with multiple layers of encryption.

A few days later, an unmarked package was delivered to the new apartment through an anonymous channel. Opening it, inside was a slightly worn but exquisitely crafted RAM Tuner, with a blurry, nearly worn-off Militech logo on it.

He budgeted the remaining money carefully and picked up a decent [Biomonitor] module. He made a special trip back to Watson to find Viktor for the installation. Seeing his new address and account balance, Viktor just raised an eyebrow, didn't ask much, skillfully performed the surgery, and finally gave the usual warning: Use that "treasure" with caution.

Then came the tools. High-precision soldering iron, micro-engraving recorder, cyberware diagnostic tool, small material printer... The professional level of the studio was instantly maxed out, enough for him to perform fine modifications on weapons and electronic equipment.

He also purchased a batch of weapon reinforcement materials. He bought an Eight-Star Shotgun and a Shadow pistol, then used the new tools and the optimization schemes provided by [Insight] to do it himself—modifying the barrels, installing custom stabilizers, and upgrading the fire control chips. Although it wasn't quite at the legendary level, it was more than enough to crush the common modified gear found on the streets. He would deal with plugins and materials later when he had the chance.

When Lin Yi sat back in the chair, and the moment "Bai Ze" at the back of his neck and the newly installed "Daedalus" RAM Tuner began to operate in synergy, he felt an unprecedented sense of smoothness, as if they had been playing separately before, but now it was a concerto.

The needle-like headaches and the feeling of his nerves being torn during high-load operations had significantly decreased. It was like a string that had been pulled tight, now loosened just the right amount. Although he was still far from unleashing the full power of "Bai Ze," at least now, he could consider himself to have initially tamed this beast.

He looked out the window; the night view of Westbrook was brilliant and cold. He touched the gun at his waist that he had reinforced himself, feeling its solid weight, and sensed the stable and powerful cold sensation coming from the back of his neck.

The account was almost bottoming out again. Fortunately, he had some things left; he needed to flip them to make money.

But he was no longer the rookie from a month ago who had nothing and almost died in an alley. Now, he had a home in Westbrook, top-tier equipment, a brother, and a secret weapon hidden inside him—he was a Night City mercenary ready to actively hunt for "big scores."

"Alright." He said to himself, a curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Newbie protection period over. Time to take on some 'main courses' worthy of this place."

He pulled up his contacts and dialed Jackie's number.