Leaning silently against the wall, Lin Mo stayed hidden in the shadows, his eyes scanning every passerby with quiet intensity. His small frame blended into the dark corner, completely inconspicuous.
He wore a slightly oversized jacket, the back printed with the snarling head of a grey-white wolf, its jaws open, red eyes glowing—both fierce and majestic.
For tonight's mission, Lin Mo had equipped the "Wolf School Bulletproof Jacket" from his Newbie Pack.
He knew every item in the starter kit by heart.
In his previous life on Blue Star, registering a Cyberpunk 2077 account would net you a few in-game freebies—Black Unicorn katana, Wolf School jacket, Troll Plushie...
He hadn't expected those same items to become real rewards in this world.
But hey, lucky break. They'd come in handy.
In the eight years he'd lived here, aside from essential implants, he hadn't installed any other cyberware. That was normal in Night City—most people couldn't handle the side effects, let alone the psychological toll of watching their own flesh turn into cold machinery.
The jacket, although a bit big, provided solid protection. And anything produced by the simulator was guaranteed to be high-quality.
As for the katana, Lin Mo had no intention of taking it out yet. Based on the game, it would probably be half his height.
A kid with a full-sized katana? Yeah, no.
Since he didn't have a melee weapon, he needed a gun.
Problem was—what arms dealer would sell to a minor?
In the end, he bought a Budget Arms Auto-Slaughter from a vending machine.
It was a disposable, 3D-printed firearm made by Budget Arms—cheap, fragile, prone to jamming. The whole thing was made of plastic and looked more like a toy than a real gun, with its tacky pink body.
But hey, it could kill. That's what mattered.
Lin Mo patted the pocket where it rested and felt a bit of reassurance—though he still stared at the street with caution.
"According to the simulation memory, my future adoptive mother should appear right here. It's almost midnight—why hasn't she shown up yet?"
As doubt began creeping in, the crowd suddenly stirred.
Screams erupted—sharp, panicked. Moments later, gunfire echoed through the night.
Right on cue, the clock struck midnight. The 24-hour chime echoed across Twisty Street, drowning out the panic and gunshots.
A woman broke away from the chaos, running toward a street corner, panic etched across her youthful face. Her slim figure was wrapped in a sharp corporate uniform. Even with cyberware contours visible on her skin, she looked young.
Unsure where to run, she hesitated—until a shadow burst out from the alley.
Lin Mo.
He sprinted toward her with focused eyes, the world around him seemingly slowed. Lights blurred by; movements felt sluggish. His body moved like a top-tier e-sports athlete, calculating and reacting in fractions of a second.
Before the woman could react, Lin Mo grabbed her hand. "Come with me!" he shouted, already dragging her away.
Startled, she let him pull her without resistance.
Weaving through the alleys, they ran until they reached a narrow dead-end, dimly lit and piled with rotting trash.
Lin Mo pulled her down behind a pair of bins. "Stay down. Don't move," he whispered.
Then he stepped away.
The stench would help hide her scent, and with the trash piled high, even cyber-enhanced noses wouldn't track her easily.
As expected, a few Tiger Claws thugs soon appeared—flashy clothes, weapons in hand. They looked around, unsure.
Lin Mo sat by the alley's entrance, playing dumb—just another street kid loitering.
One of them recognized him and approached. "Hey, kid. Seen a corpo chick come through here?" he asked in broken Mandarin.
"Corpo chick?" Lin Mo blinked innocently. "Isn't this street full of them?"
"This one's Kang Tao. Orange and black uniform. You sure?" the thug pressed.
Lin Mo shook his head. "Didn't see anyone."
The guy frowned, clearly not convinced. He raised his hand—but a companion grabbed his arm and whispered, "Wakako knows this kid. Don't mess with him."
The thug paused. Then, as if to assert control, he gave a cold grin.
With a sudden flick, he stabbed his katana into the wall next to Lin Mo's head.
The blade sliced a few strands of his hair. White dust trickled down from the cracked wall.
Lin Mo flinched, face full of mock fear. The thug grinned with satisfaction before pulling the blade back.
"Let's go, A-Mao," another said, dragging him away.
Once they were gone, Lin Mo's expression hardened. He watched them leave in silence.
After a long pause to be sure, he called the woman out from hiding.
Still shaken, she hesitated.
"Got a weapon?" he asked.
"I… left it in my car," she stammered.
"You seriously went out in Night City unarmed?" he sighed.
She blinked at him, dumbfounded by his lecturing tone.
"Where's your car?"
"Top-level parking deck," she muttered.
That meant an elevator. Lin Mo led the way.
They slipped through back alleys, avoiding patrols until they reached the lift.
He pressed the button.
The elevator creaked downward with a harsh mechanical grind.
Then—footsteps.
"Well, well… I knew you two had something going on," came a voice laced with malice. "Good thing I waited here."
A-Mao.
Behind them.
Xu Wanxue turned—just in time to see a red blade descend from the darkness.
She shut her eyes, unable to bear the sight.
CLANG!
Metal clashed. Sparks flew.
She opened her eyes to a shocking sight.
A bluish arc, like a crescent moon, held back the incoming strike.
Lin Mo had drawn a katana—the Black Unicorn, glowing with ethereal runes. A weapon out of a fantasy, not a cyberpunk alley.
The two clashed, Lin Mo straining against the blow with both hands.
The thug was stunned. Then enraged.
He struck again—harder.
Lin Mo gritted his teeth, deflecting, redirecting. Each blow forced him back until he hit a wall. Nowhere left to run.
A-Mao raised his blade for a final slash.
But just as it fell—a blur.
Xu Wanxue rammed into him.
It was enough.
He stumbled—off-balance.
And when he looked up again… Lin Mo was pointing a gun at his face.
The Auto-Slaughter.
Crude. Plastic. Cheap.
Lethal.
"You think you can get away with this? The others won't let you go—shoot me, and you're dead in this town!" the thug spat.
Lin Mo's voice was calm.
"We could've talked it out. But you walked yourself into hell."
He pulled the trigger.
Muzzle flash lit the alley.
The thug's face, frozen in disbelief, disappeared beneath the blood.
A-Mao, Tiger Claws enforcer — dead.
.
.
.
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