Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 14: Corporate Attention (Patreon)

Bzzzz.

A low, technological hum filled the shooting range as the electromagnetic rails inside the rifle charged.

Whoosh!

The projectile sliced through the air with a sharp whine unlike the report of a conventional firearm. A faint blue arc flashed at the muzzle of the M-179e Achilles Precision Rifle.

A tungsten-core armor-piercing round streaked across the range at several times the speed of sound and punched clean through the target at the far end.

Overhead machinery whirred as it brought the target forward for inspection.

It was an ordinary solid steel plate, more than thirty millimeters thick. A neat hole had appeared in its center, surrounded by dark-red metal that still looked hot enough to glow.

"Now that's some firepower!"

Pantheon admired the sleek, futuristic rifle with undisguised delight.

The Achilles was the undisputed king of commercially available electromagnetic precision rifles. Its exceptional range and raw power could punch through walls and even light armored vehicles.

The only drawback was its eye-watering price tag of thirty-nine thousand eddies. Every time Pantheon remembered how much he'd paid, his heart ached a little.

"Can't argue with that kind of power, but that recoil is ridiculous," Wilson, the gun shop owner, said in amazement.

"Most people would have to chop off their arms and install Gorilla Arms just to handle this thing. You're the only freak I've seen control it with your own muscles, never mind firing several shots in a row!"

Wilson shook his head. Opening a gun shop after retirement had definitely been the right decision. He had no desire to encounter a monster like Pantheon on a battlefield.

Pantheon merely smiled. With twelve points in Body, that much recoil was child's play.

"Hey, choom, you sure you only want a thousand ordinary rounds? How about some of the good stuff? Tungsten-core armor-piercing rounds, for example. Not much in Night City can stop those. Buy a few more, and I'll give you a discount."

Wilson made a suggestive gesture and grinned.

Pantheon watched the demonstration footage for the various ammunition types, practically drooling.

"Make it two hundred tungsten-core armor-piercing rounds, two hundred high-explosive incendiary rounds, and two hundred subsonic rounds for suppressed fire."

Well, the guy had called him his choom. What was Pantheon supposed to do, refuse?

He staggered out of the range cradling his new rifle, looking as though his soul had left his body. Behind him, Wilson was grinning from ear to ear.

"Come back anytime!"

Beep, beep, beep.

A message from Vik appeared in Pantheon's retinal display.

[Vik: Your custom cyberware's almost here. Get back to the clinic.]

Pantheon's eyes brightened, and he hurried toward the elevator.

...

More than ten days had passed since the fierce battle at the abandoned factory.

Pantheon hadn't received any worthwhile gigs in that time, so he'd been visiting Vik and learning the basics of cyberware engineering.

As technology advanced, the barriers to specialist knowledge only grew higher. Ordinary people had practically no way to study it.

And the problem wasn't limited to Night City. Throughout this era, large corporations monopolized nearly all advanced technical knowledge.

Most people had two choices. They could attend a corporate academy and spend their careers serving the company afterward, or teach themselves through years of hands-on work, trial, and error.

The difference between those paths was obvious.

Luckily, Pantheon had Vik to guide him.

Even a corporation as large as Zetatech had been willing to make an exception to recruit the doctor. Teaching a complete novice like Pantheon was hardly beyond him.

The poor patients who ended up serving as test subjects were another matter.

Besides studying, Pantheon was doing his best to spend money, turning the numbers in his bank account into actual fighting strength.

Lucy hadn't been idle either. She'd been searching the black market for a suitable buyer and had finally found a promising lead.

Things seemed to be going well for both of them. Everyone had a bright future ahead.

Half an hour later, at Misty's Esoterica in Watson.

Pantheon had barely arrived at the clinic, with no time to say more than a few words to Vik, when the roar of an approaching AV filled the street.

Its antigravity engines sent a gust across the pavement, sweeping loose rubbish away.

A silver-gray AV descended slowly. People on the street began to stir, and a few looked as though they might try their luck with its occupants.

The doors slid open. Four heavily armed corporate security officers stepped out and immediately took up defensive positions.

They carried Kang Tao's latest smart submachine guns, whose projectiles could acquire targets automatically and track several at once. That was enough to discourage most would-be troublemakers.

"All this fuss. You'd think Saburo Arasaka had come out for a stroll."

Pantheon whistled in amusement.

A corpo in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair slicked neatly back, emerged from the AV. The moment he spotted Pantheon, he approached with an enthusiastic smile.

"Mr. Pantheon! A pleasure. I'm Smith, senior account manager for Moore Technologies' Night City region."

With that same broad smile, Smith offered him a silver temperature-controlled case.

"Your custom three-lobed synthetic lungs and specially designed Second Heart."

Pantheon took the case. It was surprisingly heavy for its size.

"There is just one additional detail I should mention, Mr. Pantheon." Smith's expression didn't change, but his tone shifted slightly.

"While developing your custom Second Heart, our engineers made a technological breakthrough. Naturally, we incorporated the newest materials and techniques. That increased the final research and manufacturing costs by approximately two hundred thousand eddies."

"Oh? You make a breakthrough thanks to my order, don't even thank me, and now you want to charge me for it?" Pantheon raised an eyebrow and seized the initiative.

"Not at all! You've misunderstood!" Smith waved both hands and lowered his voice.

"Our senior management reviewed your combat records, including the recent road encounter and your infiltration of the Tyger Claws. They're extremely optimistic about your prospects."

"That's why the company would like to offer you an interest-free line of credit to cover the additional cost. You can settle it when your finances are more comfortable."

Pantheon narrowed his eyes and studied the foxlike smile on the account manager's face.

Corporate intelligence really was something else. They'd pieced together the details of incidents from two weeks ago.

The roadside shootout wasn't especially surprising. Plenty of cars had passed by, and not every surveillance camera along the highway had been broken.

But only Pantheon and the Tyger Claws had known the details of his warehouse infiltration.

He certainly hadn't leaked them. Which meant the Tyger Claws had been talking. Those shameless bastards.

Still, why was Moore Technologies going to such lengths for him?

He quietly considered the major corporations operating in Night City and soon understood.

Moore Technologies was one of the world's leading cyberware manufacturers, but its presence in Night City remained limited. Militech and Arasaka had crowded it out, leaving little room to expand.

The company wanted to cultivate its own deniable agents who could handle dirty work without a direct corporate connection.

An unaffiliated solo with a relatively clean identity and impressive combat ability was exactly the kind of investment it wanted.

Even if it couldn't recruit him outright, Moore Technologies had something to gain from any upheaval in Night City. Chaos would create openings for it to move in.

"I understand. That's very generous of you."

Pantheon had no intention of turning down the offer just because he recognized the motive behind it.

He put on a warm smile and eagerly shook Smith's hand.

Until he'd grown strong enough to stand alone, it was best to keep the corporations on friendly terms.

Besides, accepting a gift wasn't the same as agreeing to a relationship.

So what if he was a shameless playboy? <(｀^′)>