//a bit lazy, wrote a shorter chapter, next ch prob next week im writing the direction the plot goes and am still thinking, so yh anyway Enjoy chapter and leave me some stones or i will stone u!!!
Chapter 3 – Ripperdoc
Watson District – Basement Clinic
Time: Unknown
***
White light.
Not blinking. Not buzzing like the one in his H10 ceiling. Just steady. Cold. Way too clean.
Altair blinked.
His body hurt. Bad.
His chest felt tight. Shoulder burned like it got set on fire, and his right leg? Numb. His mouth was dry. Like he'd swallowed a pile of dust.
He tried to sit up.
Big mistake.
"Ah—fuck."
Pain exploded through his side like someone just ripped the stitches open again.
"Yeah, don't do that," a voice said nearby. Calm. A little annoyed. Not surprised.
Altair turned his head slowly.
There was a guy at a tray. Square glasses. Cyberoptics under his eyes. A bit older. One arm all chrome and plating. The other pushing buttons on some old-school monitor. Wearing a rolled-up blue work shirt that smelled like oil and med gel.
"Clinic," the guy said. "My place."
He glanced over at Altair. "You're lucky Misty dragged you in. You were leaking more blood than you had in your whole damn body."
Altair blinked. Tried to process.
"Misty?" he croaked.
"Yeah. Found you collapsed outside her shop. No clue how you made it that far. You were out cold. Breathing like a dead man. Still bleeding when she knocked on my door."
The man walked over and sat in a squeaky chair next to the gurney.
The name popped into Altair's head instantly.
Viktor Vector.
One of the few good ripperdocs in the game, and the somewhat ish father figure of the legendary V
Altair didn't say anything. Just nodded.
After all he couldnt say 'hey i know u from the game!'
"Right shoulder was shredded. Looked like a blast or a very angry truck. Cracked ribs, internal bruising, and your leg's fractured. You don't do things halfway, huh?" Viktor muttered.
Altair let out a breath. "Fuck..."
"Would've been your last time feeling anything," Viktor said. "I had to stop the bleeding twice before I could even start working on you."
The System in Altair's eye finally flickered to life.
[SYSTEM REBOOTING…]
Status: Stable (Barely)
Painkillers: Weak Dose Active
+1 Attribute Point (Trauma Bonus)
+1 Perk Point
New Perk (Body): Pain Buffer (Common)
"You hurt less when you're bleeding. Congrats, you're still a dumbass."
New Perk: Painful Edging (Rare)
"When HP drops below 10%, time slows for 3 seconds. Sheesh dude, you gotta stop edging bro."
He closed the window with a blink. Tried not to laugh. It would've hurt too much anyway.
Viktor stood back up, wiped his hands on a rag. "So, kid... what's your deal?"
Altair stayed quiet.
He couldn't say "I got ambushed by a gang after I cosplayed as Batman and was stupid to not prepare well enough and plan enough."
...
'Prep time was needed...'
"Got caught up in something." Altair responded
Viktor didn't ask more. Just walked over to the wall and pulled up a payment screen.
"Alright. So let's talk payment. Full job? Ten thousand. But you're lucky I'm feeling generous today so I'll make it easier for you, seeing your current state at the very least."
He tapped the screen.
"Five thousand. Flat."
Altair blinked.
He pulled up his shard. Balance: 7,200 eddies.
He sighed and sent the transfer.
[5,000 Eddies Sent]
Viktor nodded. "Not bad. Most people run before the bill prints."
Altair didn't say anything. He just laid back. Let the ceiling stare back at him.
He got cocky. Got ambushed. Got fucked up. The only reason he was alive was because Misty was there at the right time when he fell outside the door.
No system power. No mod. No plot armor.
Just luck.
He was lucky to even survive.
He let out a slow breath.
"…I wanna learn," he said.
Viktor looked over. "Learn?"
"Tech. Cyberware. Ripperdoc stuff... I don't want to be back on that table again."
Viktor raised a brow. "You asking for training?"
"I'll pay," Altair said. "And I'll work."
The ripperdoc tilted his head, thinking.
"You help around the shop. Every day. You clean, you don't ask dumb questions, and when I'm working, you shut up and learn."
"And how much?"
"2,000 a week. Covers the time and tools. You pay up front. Miss a day, no refund."
Altair blinked,
'A week is enough till i get more eddies'
He nodded.
"Deal."
[2,000 Eddies Sent]
Viktor nodded amiably. "Alright, mystery boy. You show up tomorrow morning. Sharp."
***
A few days later…
Altair came back. Every day.
Didn't talk much, or act retarded in any way.
He swept floors. Organized tools. Cleaned off chrome arms that looked older than he was. Ran diagnostics on scraps. Watched Viktor work for hours without saying a word.
No mask. No smoke bombs. Just him and the clinic.
Viktor didn't baby him. Started him slow. Wiring, calibration, minor repairs. Taught him how to spot fried circuits and where cheap implants usually failed.
Thanks to the newbie gift pack he had a basic understanding of most of the stuff he was dealing with which helped him alot.
"You learn quick," Viktor said one night, handing him a busted optics unit.
"I like building stuff," Altair muttered. "Always did. Just never had the right gear."
"Well, now you do," Viktor replied. "Kind of."
During that time, Altair stayed out of sight.
No batman. No headlines. No heat.
He heard Maelstrom had been asking around. "Some 'fucker' in a mask," they said. "Took out a crew and vanished."
But nobody could ID him.
the mask itself covered his face and the hoodie did as well, he didn't even have a basic neural socket which was rare in this city.
He didn't want to get one until he at least knew how net runners even deep-fried them...
He'd use a tactical one-eye-piece as an alternative to that.
No one snitched. No street cam caught his face.
Which eventually made them move on, probably thought he was dead in some alley.
Altair didn't correct them.
Let them forget.
***
Late one night, the clinic was quiet. Viktor was watching some boxing match in the back.
Altair sat at the bench, parts laid out in front of him. Scrap servo. Twisted wire. One small actuator was pulled from an old leg unit. It wasn't much.
But it was enough.
[CRAFTING UNLOCKED]
Skill Tree: Basic Engineering
Blueprint Created: Altair's Flex Grip (Prototype)
"Boosts grip strength. Homemade. Ugly. But it works."
Altair stared at the screen. Then at the half-finished part in his hand.
It worked well enough, though it didn't have much use other than grip.
***
Altair left the clinic just past 3:00 a.m.
The streets were quiet, for once.
No gunfire. No car chases. Just the low hum of traffic from the overpass above and the occasional drunk shouting at a vending machine.
He kept his head down. Hoodie up. Moved through the side alleys, same as always.
Didn't wanna be seen. Not yet.
Didn't wanna be remembered either.
He stopped at a noodle stand on the corner near Kabuki, grabbed a cup of cheap synth broth with barely enough synthetic meat to count. Paid with loose eddies. Sat in the shadow of a closed market stall and ate in silence.
It tasted like shit.
But it was warm.
After that, he kept moving.
Megabuilding H10 wasn't far. The lights outside flickered. The elevator creaked like it wanted to die. And his hallway still smelled like smoke and piss.
Nothing changed.
He stepped into Room 0913, kicked the door shut behind him, and dropped his jacket on the floor.
The apartment was the same too. Cold. Bare walls. Cracked mirror. Bed that squeaked like it was haunted. He sat on the edge of it and let out a breath.
The Flex Grip was still humming gently under his sleeve.
He flexed his hand once, just to feel it respond.
Yeah.
He was still here.
Still breathing.
Not because the city went easy on him.
But because he was lucky.
Next time?
Might not be as lucky.
"Fucking hell..."
He sat on the edge of the bed for a while. The room was dead quiet, except for the hum of the ceiling fan that didn't spin right.
His eyes blinked open — just enough to pull the system menu.
[STATUS]
Name: Altair Salvatore
Level: 6XP: 6000 / 320
Attribute Points: 1
Perk Points: 0
BODY: 6
REACTION: 6
TECHNICAL: 3
INTELLIGENCE: 6
COOL: 10
Altair tapped REACTION.
[REACTION 6 → 7]
"speed go brrr."
He closed the screen, rolled his shoulder slowly, and let himself fall back onto the mattress.
The bed squeaked under him.
He was exhausted.
Chapter end.
// a bit of a shorter chapter today, I'm starting to jnust lay foundation, soon imma start introducing characters, mostly working on outline so prob nexk week a chapter will be out after this one: P