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Chapter 136 - Chapter 136: Don't Make Trouble

After arriving at the delivery location, Mann handed over the data chip to Faraday's men.

Once he confirmed that the payment had successfully been transferred to his account, he got back into the car.

"Well? Did Faraday's people say anything?" Dorio asked from the passenger seat, watching Mann as he started the car.

"No. He took the chip, transferred the money, and left without another word."

"I don't know… I've got this nagging feeling that Faraday won't just let this slide."

As they continued talking, Mann's phone buzzed.

Ding~

Caller ID: Faraday.

Mann tapped the answer button. "Faraday, what now? As far as I know, our deal is done."

"Don't be so quick to wash your hands of this, Mann. Word is, someone got involved in your job."

"Hmph. So what? That's none of your business. I delivered the goods."

"Not my business?" Faraday's voice turned cold. "I told you from the start—this was a sensitive commission. The fewer people who knew, the better. Now you've brought someone else into it, and I need to know who."

Faraday didn't survive this long in Night City by being reckless. This commission was no small matter—it involved both Militech and the Arasaka Group. Getting caught between two mega-corporations could be deadly. He had to know who might have seen or touched anything.

"What? Planning to take them out?" Mann sneered. "Fine. The person who helped was Peter."

"If you've got the guts, go ahead and mess with Peter."

Without waiting for a reply, Mann hung up. He knew Faraday well enough—telling him would cause less trouble than hiding it.

Crash!

Faraday hurled the cup in his hand across the room, smashing it against the floor. For a moment, the urge to kill surged through him.

But then… he heard the name Peter.

Immediately, the murderous impulse vanished.

There was only one reason: he knew who Peter was.

This was the same Peter who had single-handedly taken down the Voodoo Boys, the Tiger Claws, and even left the Maelstrom gang in ruins. He had gone head-to-head with three of Night City's most feared gangs, and yet… he was still breathing.

The Voodoo Boys? Nearly wiped out.

The Tiger Claws? Still strong, but terrified of retaliation.

Maelstrom? Lost two bosses in quick succession—and not a word of revenge.

Faraday considered himself dangerous, but even he wasn't foolish enough to go against someone like Peter.

Ding~

Another message popped up. This time, the caller ID showed a contact from Militech's intelligence division.

Why were they calling now?

Faraday took a deep breath, smoothed his expression, and answered the call.

"Yes? What can I help you with? My team has already delivered the chip with the prosthetic data to your people."

"You found the data? Good work, Faraday. But now, we need you to find the man in this photo."

A file was sent mid-call. Faraday opened it.

His face changed instantly.

"It's him?!"

"You know this guy?" the voice on the other end asked.

"His name is Peter. He showed up in Night City about two and a half weeks ago. He's working as a mercenary."

"We want everything on him—background, combat records, full dossier. The more the better. Get it to us by tomorrow night."

"And Faraday… pull this off, and you'll be our top middleman in Night City."

Faraday's heart raced. He barely held in his excitement.

This was it—his golden opportunity. He'd been keeping tabs on Peter's every job anyway. As for combat data? Peter's fights were all over the black market under the name "Mewtwo." Those recordings were bestsellers.

The corporate suits usually looked down on that stuff. But now? Now they needed it.

"Got it. I'll send over his full info and Mewtwo battle data by tomorrow night."

The line disconnected.

Faraday leaned back in his chair, laughing to himself.

"This is it. My time to rise. With Militech backing me, even Rogge will be under my boot!"

---

Early the Next Morning

Peter quietly left the apartment without waking the others. They were still sleeping soundly.

After preparing breakfast, he got into his car and headed toward the lab.

Once there, he got straight to work.

He powered up the machine he had prepared the day before. After a few hours of intense focus and meticulous adjustments, a humanoid robot stood before him—identical in appearance to Johnny.

Using Kangtao's most advanced robotics as the base, Peter had constructed a physical shell. Now came the hard part: fusing Johnny's consciousness chip with the robot body.

"Tsk. This part's going to be tricky," Peter muttered.

Even with his super brain, he found himself hesitating. The shell was complete, but how was it different from any other robot? Johnny's consciousness was just data—would it really work?

If all he did was install AI, then Johnny would be no more than another synthetic copy.

"Whatever. No point overthinking it now. Let's see what happens."

Peter inserted the consciousness chip into the slot on the robot's neck.

"Ah! I'm such an idiot!"

The robot immediately doubled over, letting out a guttural shout before collapsing to its knees.

Peter scratched his chin, studying the scene with mild amusement. "Just as I thought."

He had intentionally designed the robot with a sensory feedback system—pain included.

What's the point of giving Johnny a body if it doesn't feel real?

Even if it meant letting him experience pain again.

"Hey, how are you feeling, Johnny? Time to get up."

Peter crouched down beside the robot.

Johnny raised his head slowly, blinking.

"You… you're Peter? I can touch things?"

In disbelief, he pounded the floor with his fist, stunned by the sensation. The cold, hard surface was real. The world was no longer just data.

"Back when I showed up in your head, I couldn't feel anything," Johnny said breathlessly. "You really brought me back… as a robot."

"Yeah. Took me one night and half a day," Peter replied, rolling his eyes. "Had to be sure I could do it before inserting your chip."

Johnny grinned, still in shock. "Holy crap… I need a smoke. You got any cigarettes?"

Peter shot him a look. "Do I look like I smoke?"

Of course, the first thing Johnny wanted wasn't to find old friends or adjust to his new body—but a cigarette.

Typical Johnny.

Peter handed him a digital ID profile. "I pulled an identity for you from the NCPD registry—name's Curry. Everything else is blank, so how you build that persona is up to you."

Johnny's system pinged as the data uploaded to his brain.

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