Overall, David was satisfied with how things had played out—aside from the nagging questions in his head. Anderson drove back to Doc’s clinic in silence, while the comms buzzed with easygoing chatter. Each of them had just earned 20k eddies, pre-taxed, meaning as far as the law was concerned, it was a legitimate transaction. Of course, what actually went down tonight would stay off the books.

  When they arrived, the car was stashed away as the next burner vehicle, and they settled in for a meal, indulging in casual conversation. But David was elsewhere, lost in his own head.

  “...Gotta admit, you did well, D-D boy.” Jessy pointed her chopsticks at him, smirking. “For someone who wasn't used to analog shit, you handled those problems real smooth.”

  “And let’s not forget that insane jump,” Anderson added. “Your legs must cost a fucking fortune for that kinda mobility.”

  David took a sip of his non-carbonated soda. “Don’t mention it.”

  “I do find it interesting that the moment you left me, you somehow got all these top-grade implants,” Doc grumbled, arms crossed. “Davey, you ever hear about loyalty?”

  “I hear about decent pay,” David shot back. “Far as I know, Seven’s the one paying me.”

  “Oh, I’m flattered,” Seven said with a smirk, clearly entertained now that the job was over.

  “Ah, fuck you.” Doc took a swig of his beer. “You wouldn’t even know these ops if it weren’t for me.”

  “Oh no, whatever shall I do…” David deadpanned, the sarcasm dripping off his words. The whole table burst into laughter.

  “You’re not in charge anymore, old man!” Jessy teased between laughs.

  “Y’all are a bunch of assholes,” Doc grumbled. “I’m going back to my BDs—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, eyes locking onto the door. His expression twisted into confusion and alarm. “Wait… who the fuck—?”

  The others turned as well. Since the clinic operated as a semi-legit business, they kept the doors open to civilians to maintain appearances—an added security measure. Still, no one was expecting this.

  Anderson reached for his pistol.

  Seven nearly choked on his meal.

  Jessy’s fingers twitched, ready to deploy a quickhack.

  David just sighed. “Oh. It’s you.”

  Everyone turned to him, confused, then back to the entrance.

  A large, sleek panther stood in the doorway, yawning and stretching like a house cat.

  “What?” Jessy blinked, looking between David and the feline. “Is that a—what the fuck is that?!”

  “That’s a panther…” Anderson muttered. “How the hell is one still alive?”

  “Forget that!” Doc practically jumped out of his seat. “Ain’t that thing gonna attack us?!”

  David casually reached out and scratched the panther’s chin. The massive feline leaned into the touch, eyes half-lidded in satisfaction.

  “Vomi wondering where I am?” David asked.

  The panther gave a slow nod.

  “Figures.”

  “DAVID!” Jessy practically screeched, making everyone wince and cover their ears. “EXPLAIN!”

  Seven, the only one who seemed unfazed, simply leaned forward. “Mr. Martinez, I too would appreciate some clarification.”

  David took another sip of his drink. “This is Panther. He’s… the mascot? Pet? Honestly, I dunno, but he belongs to my Ripperdoc. He swings by every now and then to fetch me.”

  “An actual ganic living animal?” Jessy asked, slowly inching closer. “How is it not, y’know… riddled with diseases?”

  David shrugged. “Vomi’s secret.”

  “That doesn’t reassure me.”

  Jessy hesitated, then glanced at David. “Can I pet him?”

  David nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Panther didn’t even flinch as Jessy reached out, letting her run a cautious hand through his sleek fur. After a few moments, the hesitation melted away. The big cat simply closed his eyes, enjoying the attention—even if it was just out of curiosity.

  "So fluffy…" Jessy whispered, running her fingers through Panther’s fur. "Touch the fluffy kitty…"

  “Is she… hypnotized?” Anderson asked, raising a brow.

  “I think she’s in love,” Doc muttered, watching the scene unfold.

  “Women,” Seven said, taking the last sip of his beer.

  “Women,” Anderson agreed.

  “Women,” Doc echoed.

  David shook his head and stood up, tossing his empty soda can into the trash. "Anyway, I gotta go. Mom’s probably worried about me too."

  “Oh, yeah.” Jessy snapped out of her trance, looking at him with a bit more sympathy. “Wish her a smooth recovery.”

  “Thanks.” David turned to Panther. “We going?”

  The panther stretched once more before striding toward the door, tail flicking. David followed without another word, leaving the others sitting in stunned silence.

  A panther—a species thought to be extinct—had just walked through the front door, acted like a trained dog, and left without causing a scene. Now that they had a moment to think about it, none of it made a damn bit of sense.

  “…Are we gonna talk about that, or—” Doc gestured toward the door.

  “I think it’s best if we just accept it and never talk about it,” Anderson said, adjusting his hat. “Besides, we’ve seen weirder shit.”

  "So fluffy…" Jessy mumbled under her breath, still mesmerized.

  Anderson sighed. “See what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading out too,” Seven added, pushing his chair back. “This late at night, my sector’s probably wondering what happened to me.”

  David Martinez

  And then I glued myself to the ceiling.

  What else can I do? That question keeps running through my head, right alongside what exactly am I? My capabilities are evolving—faster than I ever expected. It terrifies me. It excites me. But the further I push myself, the less human I feel. At what point does the line between David and whatever I’m becoming blur beyond recognition? Or disappear entirely?

  I need to find that answer. Soon.

  The bus ride was quiet, barely a handful of passengers this late at night. No one gave a fuck about a guy with a panther sitting beside him. Watson had practically become my home now—the neon reds of Kabuki greeting me with their usual indifference, yet somehow also welcoming me back. It’s a contradiction, but that’s how it feels.

  When I spot Misty and Jackie outside the Esoterica, I raise a hand. "Sup, chooms."

  “David, hermano!” Jackie grins, arms wide like he's ready for a bear hug. “They finally discharged you, or what?”

  “I think so. Vomi didn’t try to stop me from leaving today.” I scratch Panther’s chin, earning a slow blink from him. “Any luck today, Misty?”

  “Actually, yes!” She nearly jumps with excitement. “Had a few customers—gave some readings, did a couple of rituals, even shared some encouraging words. And they accepted! For once, I can say the Esoterica actually made some eddies!”

  “We been talkin’ about this for hours now,” Jackie says with a smirk. “Maybe we should celebrate with a spiritual hike?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Spiritual? In Night City? I don’t think this place has a more spiritual spot than here.”

  “See?” Misty shoots Jackie a knowing look. “Even he gets it.”

  “Now, now, chica, I know that ain't true,” Jackie says, already gearing up for a counterargument. “I can prove it—”

  I let them keep at it. No way in hell am I stepping into a couple’s debate.

  When I step inside our living room, Lev is elbow-deep in an engine he hauled in last week. Mom’s on the couch, eating…

  “Do you ever get tired of noodles?” I ask, eyeing the cup in her hand.

  “No.” She slurps down another mouthful, totally unbothered. “I love them.”

  I glance at the TV. “What’re you watching?”

  Panther jumps onto her lap, and she barely reacts—just lifts her arms so he can get comfortable. Smooth, practiced movements, like she already knew he’d do it.

  "Kabuki Klassics," she replies between bites. "Live performances, bands playing styles from before the DataKrash."

  I listen for a moment, frowning. “Is that… jazz?”

  “Electro Swing,” she corrects, scratching Panther behind the ears. “A slightly less old style.”

  I nod along with the beat. “Sounds good, though.”

  “Kapitan wants to see you.” Lev’s voice comes from the other side of the room. “She’s at her office. Says she’ll officially discharge you—if you do a few things first.”

  “Preem.” I turn my attention to the engine he’s tweaking. “What’s that about?”

  "Kapitan wants to open a workshop—custom cars, built to client specs." He grabs a few tools. “But to get started, we need parts—engines, brakes, gearboxes. Gotta scrap old vehicles, salvage what we can. It’s a long-term side project. Something to do when we don’t have gigs lined up.”

  “And how’s this one coming along?”

  Lev sighs. “I underestimated Mizutani’s engineering. This is way more complicated than I thought.”

  “Good luck with that,” I say, leaving the Russian to it.

  "Dee," Mom said, still watching the TV. "I'm still waiting for your apology."

  I frowned but said nothing. Instead, I just walked away.

  Vomi was in her office, running tests on some chems and checking their progress on the terminal. Probably some drug or medicine they prescribe to their customers—not that I had any idea. As I shut the door behind me, her head lifted, eyes flicking toward me. I gave her a nod. She nodded back. That was all.

  I waited while she finished up, jotting down notes in a notebook before moving to another terminal. A few taps later, she printed out a sheet—not quite paper, but close enough. She handed it to me along with a pen.

  I had to admit, Vomi’s habit of using physical documents instead of virtual messages was… oddly reassuring.

  "Here. Sign these," she said, pointing at the spots I needed to fill in. "After that, you can officially go back to your apartment."

  I started signing, glancing up. "Lev said you had some things you needed me to do first?"

  "Yes. But consider it more of a favor than an obligation." She handed me another sheet.

  I scanned it. "A contract? You want to hire me?"

  "As a half-intern." She made a vague gesture with her hand. "Working under a licensed Ripperdoc has its benefits—even if you don’t do exactly what we do."

  I considered it. A real job. Something I could use. Wouldn't be bad—if I weren’t already making my own plans. The secret ops gig wasn’t exactly what I’d originally envisioned, but I could see the advantages. Hell, it even made me consider joining the law for a second.

  But that wouldn’t make me a legend.

  And that’s what I wanted—to be known, remembered. To carve my name into history like the few who ever really mattered. To fulfill something bigger than myself. Lucy had her dream of reaching the moon—something real, something she could touch.

  Why couldn’t I have that too?

  Then again, this could be temporary. But Vomi wasn’t the type to make random offers, and she sure as hell wasn’t the type to let me walk into a gig without asking what kind of gig it was. She just allowed it this time because I was in a hurry and she already did all of my checkups.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Something didn’t add up.

  I lowered the contract, meeting her gaze. "This offer didn’t come from you."

  A pause.

  "It came from my mom, didn’t it?"

  She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Her hollow eyes locked onto mine, silent yet saying everything I already knew.

  Then, finally, she raised a brow. "Gloria spoke to me. Asked me to hire you for something—anything, as long as it was legal. She doesn’t want you to follow the same fate as every other young gonk who thinks they can rule the world."

  "And you agree with her," I muttered, glancing down at the contract again. "I get it. I want to make her proud. But I can’t just—" I exhaled sharply. "I just can’t. I won’t hide under someone else’s wing."

  Vomi’s voice remained as unreadable as her expression. "You are a visionary. No—ambitious. But you’re conflicted. You don’t know what you want, yet you act. You can’t have one without sacrificing the other."

  I shook my head. "Enough about me." Stepping closer, I jabbed a finger at my chest. "I want to know about this."

  Hell, I gestured at myself entirely.

  "What am I? What the hell is this pathogen you gave me? Who are you?" The questions spilled out, each sharper than the last. "Because the more I do things I’ve never done before—but perfectly on the first try—" I clenched my fists. "The more I stop caring about the people I kill. The more I keep excelling at everything, the less I feel like me."

  I held her gaze, unflinching.

  "Am I human, Vomi?"

  Vomi didn’t answer right away. She just stood there, still as a corpse, staring at me with those unreadable hollow eyes. I almost thought she wouldn’t say anything at all.

  Then, slowly, she spoke. "Does it matter?"

  I felt something tighten in my chest. "Of course, it fucking matters!" My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. "I need to know what’s happening to me!"

  She tilted her head slightly, considering me. "You say you want to know, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. You already suspect the answer, don’t you? And you don’t like it."

  I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but nothing came out.

  Because she was right.

  I knew it. I had felt it ever since I woke up after the crash. The way my body moved, the way my mind processed things differently, the way I changed—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t human.

  And I had tried, so hard, to ignore that fact.

  Vomi leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "So tell me, David: do you want confirmation? Or do you want reassurance?"

  I clenched my jaw. "I want the truth."

  Her expression didn’t change. "Then you’re asking the wrong question."

  My fists tightened. "Stop playing word games with me, Vomi!"

  "I’m not." Her voice remained maddeningly calm. "If you want the truth, ask the right question."

  I stared at her, breathing hard, my mind racing.

  What was the right question?

  The silence stretched between us, heavy, suffocating. And then, finally, the realization hit me.

  I swallowed hard. "What am I becoming?"

  That was when Vomi finally smiled. "Now you’re asking the right question."

  "Then?"

  "Klyntar."

  She said it simply, but there was something in the way she spoke the word—like it left a bad taste in her mouth. Like she resented even acknowledging it.

  I frowned. "Klyntar?"

  Vomi let out a slow breath, then shook her head. "You got the pathogen… no, fuck that." Her voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through. "I’m done with the stupid euphemisms. You have a symbiote. That’s what it really is."

  I stared at her. "A what?"

  She took off her glasses, rubbing them clean with deliberate care. "How do you think I survived the San Francisco Holocaust?" Her tone was eerily calm. "I was there when the warhead detonated. You saw my memories. You already know the answer."

  She slid her glasses back on, meeting my gaze without a hint of hesitation.

  "You are, in both theoretical and practical terms, the second of my kind."

  I raised my hands. They felt foreign, like they weren’t mine, yet they obeyed my command.

  I looked at Vomi, and something stirred inside me. A flicker of recognition, a distant memory surfacing—not just awareness, but understanding.

  "The second," I repeated, my voice disturbingly calm. "What does that make me? What does that make you? What does this mean for us?"

  Vomi stood up, pulling out that stupid inhaler again. The TV in the background droned on about a gang shootout, flashing images of a bloodied street.

  "For you, this can still be reversed." She took a sharp inhale, exhaling like it was the only thing keeping her steady. "You’re a hybrid—something that can be engineered back to full humanity. For me, that doesn’t mean much, since I can undo what I did anytime."

  She took another hit, deeper this time. Too much, if you asked me.

  "And for us?" She finally looked at me. "That depends on you."

  I narrowed my eyes. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

  She sighed. "It’s better if I show you."

  Vomi turned toward David, her body tense, trembling slightly despite the amount of sedatives she’d already inhaled. Keeping it inside—keeping it quiet—was getting harder. Not that she had to worry. It was just her. Just her anger, bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

  She blinked slowly, letting go just a bit of the control she fought so hard to maintain.

  A tendril emerged from her forehead, black and twisting, trembling as if resisting her will. Another slithered from her eyeball, then her arm, her legs, her spine—all sprouting at awkward, unnatural angles. It was grotesque, a horror show that would break most people.

  But David didn’t flinch in fear.

  He just watched, fascinated, like he had already seen this before. And when he finally grimaced, it wasn’t because of her.

  It was because of himself.

  The tendrils pulsed angrily, writhing with restrained aggression. Vomi exhaled slowly, and her skin darkened as the black mass consumed her completely. From scalp to toe, even her clothes were swallowed by the living abyss. The only part not covered was her right arm, the chrome leaking with the black substance like a torn out rope.

  The voice that emerged was the same one that had spoken in San Francisco. Twisted, distorted, wrong.

  "This is who I am."

  She stared at him, eyes glinting beneath the inky black shell.

  "And I hate it."

  The tendrils curled and uncurled behind her, like they were ready to strike, ready to lash out. But at her command, they slithered back, retreating into her body without hesitation.

  "You can still avoid this." Her voice softened, but the weight of her words didn’t. "You can avoid what this omen will turn you into."

  David stared at Vomi, his thoughts pulling in two directions—one part of him wondering why he was so calm, the other realizing he didn’t want to fight it.

  He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but he liked this.

  He liked being different.

  For the first time, he wasn’t just another punk trying to scrape by—he was unique. A hybrid, a symbiote, whatever the hell Vomi called it. The idea of going back? Of just being David Martinez, a nobody?

  He didn’t want that.

  He wanted more—more of what the symbiote could offer.

  Just… not yet.

  There were still questions clawing at his mind, questions he couldn’t ignore.

  “So that means I’m not human?” He flexed his fingers, staring at his own hands. “Klyntar, you said. Is that why I don’t care when I flatline people?”

  Vomi’s symbiote retracted slowly, almost hesitantly, as if it didn’t want to hide.

  “To us, humans are like bugs,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “Killing them doesn’t mean much. But your mind and body were human for so long that you can’t help but feel… awkward about it.”

  “Awkward.” David scoffed, finally looking at her. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Whatever you’re feeling, I felt it too.” Vomi’s suit finally receded, leaving her bare-skinned again. She slipped her glasses back on. “It was confusing at first, but I figured it out. Just be glad you can still turn back. I never had that luxury.”

  David hesitated, then asked the question that had been gnawing at him since this all started.

  “Does my mom know?”

  Vomi turned toward him, expression unreadable as ever.

  “She knows what I am. And what you can become.”

  David let out a bitter chuckle. “And she still asked you to do this to me.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Always thinking of others before herself. Has she seen you like that?”

  Vomi raised her brows slightly—just enough for David to get the message.

  What do you think?

  David sighed.

  Vomi tapped the contract on the table. “Point is, this offer is for your mother’s sake more than yours. As far as I know, even a half-Klyntar can survive things no human could.”

  She slid the contract toward him.

  “Just sign it. Don’t make this a hassle for either of us.”

  “Fine.”

  David sighed, signing the contract with a flick of his wrist. “What now?”

  Vomi didn’t even look up from the chems she was working on. “You’ve got two options. One, go back to your apartment at the Megabuilding and clock in here after the Academy. Two, just move in. You’re basically living here already.”, She finally turned, adjusting her gloves. “Plus, you’ll be closer to the Academy here than in Santo Domingo.”

  David nodded. “Can’t argue with that. Mom—”

  “Before you say anything about Gloria, she’s welcome to stay.” Vomi cut him off before he could finish. “And before you do anything else, pay your debts—to the building owner and the Academy.”

  David scoffed. “I was gonna do that anyway.”

  “And yes,” she continued, “we’ll handle getting you a car now that you can drive.”

  “All thanks to your symbiote.”

  Vomi shot him a look. “I don’t need to tell you this stays secret, right?”

  David smirked. “No need. I know when to shut up.”

  “Good. Now get lost.”

  David left without another word, stepping out into the cool night air. The world around him felt… different.

  Klyntar.

  The word echoed in his mind. The species. The thing now inside him. It was alien and yet—familiar. The puzzle finally had its answer, but it still nagged at him. How did the Klyntar mimic human form so perfectly? Could they really suppress their true nature? Did he have armor like Vomi’s? And if she could regenerate her entire body back in San Francisco, why couldn’t she regrow her right arm?

  His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “Dee?”

  David lifted his gaze.

  His mom.

  Gloria stood there, watching him carefully. “What happened? I heard you screaming in there.”

  “I think mini David just got a few explanations.” Lev spoke up from his workbench, not even glancing away from the engine he was working on. “Mostly about you, Ms. Gloria.”

  David took a slow breath. “Mom.”

  She gave him her full attention.

  “I… I’m sorry for what happened last week.”

  The words came out smooth. Natural. But they didn’t feel real.

  His apology was hollow. Forced.

  He knew he should mean it, but he didn’t.

  He’d done all of this—for her. The debts, the risks, the pain, just to help her recover, to make her proud. And yet… she felt as distant as a fly buzzing around his ear.

  He wanted to care.

  He should care.

  But he didn’t.

  Not really.

  Gloria sighed, but smiled. “I get it, mi hijo.” She reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. “All you want is my safety. But did you get the offer from Vomi?”

  David forced a nod. “Yeah. I signed it. I start as a half-intern tomorrow.”

  Gloria’s face lit up. “Good!” She pulled him into a tight hug. “That means you don’t have to put yourself in danger until you get your degree.”

  David hesitated before returning the hug.

  It felt… foreign.

  David gently pulled away, meeting Gloria’s eyes with a serious look.

  “I’ve got the eddies to pay off all our debts—from selling the chrome.”

  Before she could ask, he added, “I’m covering everything. And we’re moving to here. Permanently.”

  Gloria raised a brow, smirking. “Look at you, acting all grown-up. Is Vomi ok with this?”

  “Vomi was the one who offered.”

  He turned toward the door. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Be safe, Dee.”

  David glanced back, forced a smile, then stepped out.

  Bothered by how little it bothered him.

  David Martinez

  I went to the Megabuilding, paid the gonk, and immediately arranged for a truck to move all our stuff to Watson. Panther followed me the whole way, which might’ve had something to do with why the owner didn’t put up a fight when I asked to move out. Preem. Also a little intimidating. The truck would come tomorrow to clear everything out.

  From there, I took a bus straight to the Academy—late midnight, empty seats, no one around. Good. Gave me space to think.

  Or… not think. Just process.

  What I am. What I can become. What Vomi is.

  It explains everything—why my chrome feels like flesh, why no one can hack me, why I’m a blur on every camera feed. I’m fully ganic. No cyberware, yet I use it like I do. Maybe that’s the symbiote at work? How do I connect to things without having them? I can still use shards. My optics work the same. There has to be an explanation.

  More than that, though, I see people differently now. They don’t feel like obstacles, stepping stones, or even limitations to surpass. Not even people. Just… things that exist. Tools doing their jobs. And I feel nothing about it.

  I’m trying. Really trying to care. But I can’t.

  Is this how Vomi feels every day? Then how did she still find herself enough to save Mom and me? She could’ve just left. Let us die. But she didn’t.

  Wait.

  That thought—Vomi saved me.

  Me.

  She saved me and gave me this.

  Why does that matter to me more than my own mother’s safety?

  What the fuck is happening to my mind?

  “Final stop, kid.”

  The bus driver’s voice yanked me back. He stayed in his seat but glanced at Panther. “Look, I like your cat and all, but you can’t stay on the bus forever.”

  “Don’t worry, just checking my messages.” A lie. I got up. “Thanks for the ride.”

  I said it more out of habit than gratitude.

  The Arasaka Academy never really closes—corporations never stop working—so I just walked through the front door and headed straight to the principal’s office.

  The man was there, sitting like he owned the place. Hands clasped together, eyes locked on me.

  "Mr. Martinez, welcome. What brings you here so late?"

  "I'm here to pay for the damages I caused to the Academy's equipment," I said, surprised at how corpo my voice sounded.

  "Good. Just transfer this sum to the Academy’s account."

  A ping. A payment link.

  I paid in full. No installments. No hesitation.

  His surprise was obvious—he didn’t hide it in time. "That would be all, Mr. Martinez?"

  "No. I’m also here to pick up my new uniform." Hands in my pockets, eyes drifting to Night City’s skyline.

  I used to see it as a land of opportunity. A path to glory. Now… there's something more to it. I just need to figure out what.

  "Pardon our mistake. The uniform is in the locker room. We’ll provide it immediately."

  Funny. A week ago, he wouldn’t hesitate to berate me. Now, just because I can pay upfront, he’s suddenly respectful.

  Not that I care.

  "Meow."

  Or maybe it's Panther’s presence. Could be either.

  I grabbed my uniform and made my way back to Watson. I needed sleep—not for rest, but just to shut my mind off for a while.

  Back in my room, I lay down and closed my eyes.

  The next morning, we were all gathered in the clinic’s living room, sipping coffee. And I mean everyone—Mom, Vomi, Vik, Lev, Sasha, Panther, and Ciri.

  “…And then, when we used the plasma cutter, it still overheated!” Lev threw his hands up, exasperated.

  “In fucking Antarctica?” I blinked. “How does a frozen plasma cutter overheat?”

  “I have no idea, but it happened!” Lev chuckled.

  “Plasma cutters work differently than standard ones,” Vik chimed in, taking a sip of his coffee. “They accelerate matter at such high speeds that even absolute zero might not stop them. There’s more to it, but that’s the simple version.”

  “The Navy might be the only place that still sees snow.” Mom muttered, swirling her cup. “I miss when the rain didn't corrode metal.”

  “Isn’t that why they made new ligaments and alloys?” Sasha pointed out, her cat-styled makeup matching Panther’s fur. “That’s not a problem anymore.”

  “Sure, but it’s expensive.” Vomi reminded everyone. “The more work put into a product, the higher the price.”

  “That’s if it isn’t taxed into oblivion first, Kapitan.” Lev added wisely.

  Ciri spoke up, offering her own insight. “Blacksmithing was always costly, but when nobles and governments started taxing everything—trades, transport routes, material extraction, even the tools themselves—it became so expensive that people started using fences.”

  Sasha burst out laughing. “Fences? Like the things that keep cattle in place?”

  “A handyman,” Vik corrected. “Someone who buys stolen goods to resell them, so they don’t get traced.”

  “Just like chrome nowadays,” I added, the conclusion settling over the group like an unspoken truth.

  Sasha stretched her arms over her head, yawning. “Honestly, I don’t even get why chrome is still so damn expensive. It’s not like people are mining raw adamantium or whatever.”

  “Because corpos need to make a profit.” Vomi leaned back on the couch, balancing her cup on her knee. “They don't just sell chrome; they sell the privilege of using it.”

  “Preem way to put it.” Lev smirked. “Half of what we buy ain’t even worth half of what we pay, but they still get away with it.”

  Vik nodded. “And that’s why ripperdocs exist.”

  "Legal ones, yes."

  "Illegal too."

  Mom let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, and why black market implants are a thing. You’d think a functioning leg wouldn’t be priced higher than a car.”

  “Luxury tax.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “They price it high to keep it exclusive."

  Panther let out a lazy meow, curling up against my leg. I scratched behind his ear absentmindedly.

  “But isn’t it weird?” Ciri mused, stirring her coffee. “How people just… accept it? Like, everyone knows corpos milk them dry, but no one does anything about it.”

  Lev shrugged. “What’s anyone gonna do? Riot? We all saw how that went.”

  Silence settled over the room for a second. No one really needed to say anything.

  Then Vik clapped his hands together. “Enough of that depressing shit. What’s on today’s agenda?”

  Mom sighed. “I have to go back to work. Can’t just disappear forever.”

  “Gonna be hard to explain how you’re alive, huh?” Sasha smirked.

  “Yeah, I’ll figure something out.” Mom waved a hand. “What about you, David?”

  I exhaled. “Academy.”

  Vomi raised an eyebrow. “You’re actually going?”

  “Gotta get my uniform.”

  Lev let out a low whistle. “Damn, look at you. Corpo boy, all cleaned up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a uniform.”

  “That’s how it starts.” Sasha grinned. “Next thing you know, you’ll be selling stock options and saying let’s touch base.”

  “If I ever say touch base, just kill me.”

  Vik chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. “Noted.”

  “Actually, I need to talk to you, David.” Sasha tapped my shoulder.

  The others took the hint and scattered, each finding something else to do. It was just us now, sitting at the table—well, us and Panther, but he didn’t count.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  She leaned forward, her lynx-paw legs swinging idly beneath the table. “Maine’s got a gig lined up. He thinks you could be useful.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “You’re at the academy.” She smirked. “That might come in handy.”