37 Chapter 15 (Part 3)

"How do you like it?" I say, slipping into my custom-upgraded chest plate, showing it off to Susan who's idly by the computer.

"Do you expect me to say something new?" The girl raises an eyebrow skeptically, turning her head halfway towards me.

"Check out the specs." I toss the augmented data of my armor, which for now looks more like a chest rig but is just "for now," to my mentor.

"Very well, and knowing you, this is just the first finished prototype, right?" The brunette quickly scans the chest plate's data, turning her attention back to me.

"Yeah... Chad and I had a good test run on a dummy yesterday, not a scratch on it. The kinetic energy absorption system works like clockwork. Though, even without it, the armor still meets the level six bulletproof vest standards, with a slight caveat."

"Good, now the most important part, what about the price?" Even Sue has caught on to the main problem all nomads face, namely the final cost of the product.

"Considering the cost of materials, technological complexity of production, and the labor, it's about 4,000 eddies, not counting any market or tax markups..." I quickly calculate the final cost for "our people."

"Remind me, how much does subdermal armor of the same class cost?" Susan smiles, well aware of its market price.

"Thirteen thousand euro-bucks for the latest nanofiber upgrade." If you think about it, the familiar armor class system I know is changed in this world. Here, a slightly different set of values is used to assess protection. For instance, the latest class subdermal armor provides about 250 units of protection, enough to withstand a short burst from an automatic weapon. My armor, however, offers 450 units, equivalent to medium-caliber sniper rifles.

"Exactly..." The girl snaps her fingers and creates a volumetric hologram in front of my face. "This kind of protection can already confidently make its mark on the market, edging out Militech, the main and leading manufacturer of personal protective equipment in the states." The hologram expands to show a vest supplied by the corporation, with its tactical characteristics and a protection level of 350 units. The cost of such a delight would be 7,000 eddies, but it's worth considering that it doesn't have the features my armor provides.

"In short, my technology is primarily a danger to me. I understand that perfectly well and don't need a lecture." I roll my eyes at the girl who's mocking me. "But really, this is just a prototype with wires sticking out all over. It's not even close to the concept of what I ultimately want to see."

"Ah, these boys, always dreaming of super cool suits to show off to each other." Susan smiled, smoothly turning off the hologram. "Well, it's your call. Just be careful and don't let people you're not fully sure of get too close."

"I'll keep that in mind." I nod in agreement and, with a short sigh, turn towards the exit. "Sue, when is the camp leaving its current location?" I pause briefly, half-turning back to my mentor.

"At the end of the month. John got a decent offer from Petrochem, and they're discussing the details now."

"I see... I hope the corps don't drag us into any mess." I had no trust in the corporates, but they were the only major employers who could pay well for our work. Frankly, we had no choice, so in such cases, we have to be a bit more cautious than usual.

"You sound just like John." The girl smiled faintly and waved me off. "Go on, then."

Waving back, I left the tent, feeling the dry air of the wasteland on my face again. Having spent time among the nomads, I'd gotten used to their way of life and had even grown fond of it in a way. Nomads are soulful people with their own problems and stories, which are pleasant to listen to in the evenings. Everyone in the clan was open to sharing something about themselves, sitting by the fire, drinking a bottle or two of beer.

In those moments, the unity of people driven by common problems, namely surviving in the harsh conditions of modern America's wastelands, was especially palpable. Essentially, there were few cities left that maintained a decent level of life for their citizens. The NUSA, due to a series of endless wars and corporate squabbles, had turned into a huge breeding ground for anarchy. Despite its many obvious shortcomings, Night City was a much safer place than many might think at first glance, and that scared me.

Sooner or later, I'll start thinking about family and their safety, and America at the moment, at least for me, looks too unpresentable. There's only hope for Europe, where wars were not so all-consuming, and the local nature was able to preserve its pristine state. Perhaps it's also worth considering the local Soviet Union, but for now, that's a matter of the distant future, which may not come in time. Another war is approaching, and who knows what it will bring.

***

In Tokyo, within the walls of the Emperor's Palace 

Saburo Arasaka slowly lit his pipe, seated in his office. He pondered the potential future of the company, a future that seemed on the cusp of unfolding. Over the years, Project "Soul" had borne fruit, and a foreign specialist they had hired had significantly accelerated the development of a new biochip that copied the user's personality.

Initially, the concept aimed at achieving potential immortality by transferring one's consciousness into a new, younger body. Thanks to Alt Cunningham, who had been captured, they managed to develop the first prototype of a program that recorded consciousness onto an electronic medium named "Soulkiller." Unfortunately, even the improved prototype failed to establish any form of contact with digital personalities, leading to a decision to temporarily freeze the project and leave it in the Mikoshi laboratory.

Until 2030, Mikoshi was the only place in the world secretly researching human consciousness, away from the prying eyes of others. Then, after several assaults on the Arasaka tower by Johnny Silverhand's group with Militech's support, some data was released, sparking subsequent official human brain research. Arasaka Corporation had to temporarily halt its operations as many of its leading specialists were lost due to the detonation of a tactical nuclear warhead installed in the building.

The person responsible for its installation was captured and chosen as a test subject for an unrefined version of the Soulkiller, which completely obliterated the victim's brain, essentially drying out their mind while transferring the data to a new medium, leaving the individual in a sort of stasis. The digitized personality couldn't fully comprehend itself, lacking access to sensory organs responsible for spatial orientation.

In its first year of operation, Hellman managed to establish a stable channel with the engrams, as the recorded personalities on the special chip were called. Anders created an environment in cyberspace, enabling the first trial contact with an engram. The first "volunteer" was a corporation employee who had given his consent for the experiments to assist his family. In the early stages, Arasaka needed resources for research, and this method allowed the company to replenish them quickly without spending a lot of money. Unfortunately, this new form of existence had a profound impact on the personality, necessitating a deeper exploration of the subject to avoid similar issues in the future.

***

The Emperor's gaze smoothly transitioned to a photo of his granddaughter. Hiroko was born with a fiery temperament, and the pernicious influence of Yorinobu had a much stronger effect on her than Saburo could have imagined. After her uncle's defection, she too decided to make a dramatic exit and disappeared, winding up in Night City. As a loving grandfather, Saburo couldn't bear the thought of his granddaughter suffering. He began to secretly assist her, thereby advancing her candidacy into the rising corporation of Biotechnica.

Since Hiroko had conspicuously turned her back on the Arasaka family, the Emperor could not afford her too much attention, preferring to limit his involvement to the necessary minimum, thus making a sort of pact with his conscience. In some ways, this arrangement completely satisfied Saburo, causing him to soon forget about his granddaughter entirely until that particular tragedy occurred.

Eventually, on that day, the Arasaka family lost two of its members. Grief-stricken, Yorinobu finally returned to his father's doorstep, asking for forgiveness for leading his niece astray by his poor example. Such changes in his son, of course, pleased Saburo, but in his view, it was still not enough to atone for the guilt before the family. Ultimately, it was Hanako who persuaded her father to change his decision.

Everyone in the Arasaka family had their destined place, and each was expected to perform their role. It's a pity that some of his children failed to understand a simple truth: nothing is more important than family, for the welfare of which Saburo exerts all possible efforts...