Five minutes ago.
[Bryce: Trouble. Their cyberware data's been wiped—driver-level modifications.]
[Bryce: Find out who hired them. Any way you can.]
Just a Sandevistan alone already came with a covert "black box" module that techs could crack for braindance material. Cyberware used by ACPA operators and fighter pilots? Even more advanced.
Corps were always iterating their war machines in real-time, and data from a pilot's neural interface was invaluable for tuning the next generation.
But those systems were complicated. The kind of engineer who could actually decode and reverse-engineer that data wasn't someone you found in a résumé stack.
Bryce, as a NetWatch agent, had access to proprietary tools that could extract that info. That wasn't the problem.
The problem was that all of the implants had been overwritten at the driver level. The data that came out was unreadable gibberish.
Someone had tampered with them.
Which is why Bryce turned to Leo to try a more direct approach.
When the name "Masamune" slipped from Lucas's mouth, Leo sent back:
[Leo: That name good enough for you?]
[Bryce: Solid. Keep going.]
"Nice. That's a solid start," Leo said, laying out the weapons they'd confiscated from the couple earlier. "Now tell me—how'd you get these across the border?
Last I checked, this stuff's restricted. No way you passed inspection with it."
Most mercs couldn't survive any real scrutiny. Sure, sneaking themselves onto a plane might work, but smuggling hardware like this? That was a whole other level.
Take, for example, the current prototype for Scorch Knuckles' ranged weapons: the Malorian 3600 Super SMG.
Classic cyberware-only weapon. Anyone without reinforced arms would snap their bones trying to use it.
It fired 14mm caseless rounds—utterly ridiculous for an SMG. At close range, it hit harder than some entry-level anti-materiel rifles that used .50 BMG.
And this thing was still considered an SMG.
Its internal mechanics were unique: a non-automatic hybrid design. If your limbs could withstand the recoil, you could hit a fire rate rivaling the best SMGs in the biz.
Hit the ideal fire rate, and its damage output was comparable to a mounted autocannon.
But your cyberarms? Yeah, they'd be torn apart trying.
Then there was the gun Anna used during the op: the Dover GA-1112 Automatic Machine Gun, chambered in 12mm caseless, double-barrel design.
Only high-tier cyborgs could even wield something like that. Most users needed a smart sling to offload the recoil into their waist.
The gun came with a feed motor—activate it, and in a single second, it could shred a car into scrap.
But you had to manually spin it up first.
Anna's version had custom tweaks—motor polished to perfection, internals optimized. It didn't match any entry in Bryce's database 1:1.
Thanks to that monster, she'd single-handedly destroyed eight vehicles from the 6th Street Gang that day.
A walking death machine.
But the most terrifying weapon was the one no one could explain: the Anti-Material Tech sniper rifle.
According to Bryce's analysis, this was a true prototype.
Tech rifles were Tsunami Defense Systems' signature product. Their "Thunderclap" and "Raijin" lines were famous—the former being the pistol series that cyber-enhanced users might handle. The latter? Reserved for ACPA armor only. Pure anti-materiel hell.
[TN: I assume the Raijin is the Raimei and the Thunderclap is either the Type 17 Anti-Material Rifle, both from the tabletop games, or the Rasetsu.]
Based on its specs, this mystery rifle resembled the Raijin line more. It was 2.3 meters long—comparable to the 3.1-meter Raijin sniper.
It fired 20mm compressed rounds. From a weapon that size? The destructive power was hard to even imagine.
But the real kicker? It didn't require ACPA armor.
Just a very strong cyborg… and some custom power braces for support.
Not only was its design brilliantly unconventional, but the ammo had also been specially engineered.
With R&D this refined… why the hell wasn't the creator working for a megacorp?
Why were they slumming it in Night City?
Something felt off.
Lucas looked at the weapons and answered, "I don't know. Masamune gave them to us. Said they were part of the payment. Every one of them is a masterpiece."
Street weapons generally fell into two categories:
Civilian-market stuff, made for self-defense. Basic, low-grade, and often just good enough to settle a road rage incident. Whoever drew first usually won.
Gang-issued weapons, a step above the throwaway plastic pistols, often secondhand military guns in sketchy condition.
But if you were aiming to become a merc—especially a solo—your weapon was your partner. Unreliable hardware got you killed.
Most solos had a special attachment to their first real gun. The one they fought tooth and nail to get. The one that stayed with them during their rise to notoriety.
Every gun on this table? It was that kind of gun.
"So this Masamune guy's some kind of tech genius," Leo said. "Specializing in design and fabrication.
But that sniper, clearly derived from ACPA-class rifles. So why wasn't your girlfriend the one using it?"
Lucas looked at Anna, still unconscious. After some hesitation, he answered honestly.
"She... botched a shot once. During a mission."
A sniper's confidence is everything. One mistake could break you. Some couldn't even look through a scope again without sweating bullets.
Judging by her grouping that day, she hadn't actually gotten worse—just less lucky.
Extreme-range kills had a big luck factor. She just happened to miss.
But that one mistake was enough—Anna couldn't handle sniping anymore.
Leo glanced at Bryce. Something about that sniper had caught his attention.
"What's the story on the guy who was using it?"
Bryce was just finishing syncing with the dead sniper's neural port.
The moment he plugged in, his whole expression changed.
His brow furrowed. Something didn't add up.
"Finnish sniper. Big name. Deserter. He's on multiple international lists…"
"Wait, what?" Leo frowned. "Why would the EU let someone like that get away?"
Bryce replied quietly. "He killed two very high-ranking individuals."
"How high?" Leo asked. "Like... Arasaka Saburo level?"
Bryce paused, then gave Leo a look.
The kind of look two street punks share when they see a corp rat walk by—an unspoken plan to duck cameras and jack his shit.
Leo got the message. He activated the room's signal jammer.
A short pulse cut Bryce's NetWatch uplink. At the same time, Leo used a sonic disruptor to knock Lucas unconscious.
That tiny delay was all he needed.
He moved in—quick, silent, invasive. Hacked into Bryce's cyberware directly.
This, too, was part of their unspoken cooperation: an inside-outside hack to momentarily disable NetWatch's enforcement feed, and maybe any hidden surveillance Bryce himself didn't know about.
Risky—but worth it.
Once it was done, Bryce finally spoke.
"More or less. He killed a father and son."
So... a child killer? Leo thought grimly.
He waited for Bryce to continue. Instead, the man started pacing.
Finally, he spoke up, hesitating.
"Look—we've worked together a bit. You didn't hear this from me, and it's not from the NetWatch database.
Have you ever heard of… the Golden Kid?"