Modification

The neon-lit streets of the city were alive with the sound of machinery, the scent of oil and the hustle of people. Cybernetic modifications were as common as breathing. Everywhere you looked in inner city, there were people with gleaming metal limbs, glowing implants, and enhanced sensory receptors. It was a world where the line between human and machine was blurred, and those with the latest technology held all the power.

But not everyone could afford to be part of this elite club. In the lower districts, the streets were dark, damp, and dangerous. The people who lived here were the ones who couldn't afford the latest enhancements, who couldn't keep up with the pace of progress. Amputees, infected whores and beggars with strange diseases were lined up in the streets. And yet, they still yearned for a way to escape their circumstances, to rise above their lot in life, with little success;

That's where the illegal cybernetic clinics came in. They were run by shady operators who didn't care about safety regulations or medical ethics. They promised to give their clients the latest and greatest technology, no matter what the cost. And the cost was high - not just in terms of money, but in terms of risk. That's the part where netrunners needing experimental subjects would get free guinnea pigs to experiment on.

The teenagers who came to these clinics were desperate. They had no other way out of the slums, no other way to compete with the rich and powerful. So they put their trust in these unscrupulous operators, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be hurt or killed in the process.

The cybernetic implants they received were often outdated, poorly designed, and dangerous. They would malfunction, causing pain, or even death. But for those who survived, the enhancements gave them a new lease on life. They could run faster, jump higher, and fight better than any natural human. They were the perfect weapons, the perfect tools for those who needed them.

Joining a gang or a mercenary group would be the natural follow up. And from this point onward, they would be able to make a living out of their body. But as with all things in this world, there was a price to pay. The government was cracking down on these illegal clinics, and those who were caught faced harsh punishment. The corporations that controlled the city were always watching, always waiting for a chance to take advantage of the situation.

Greem had been lucky to find Doc Juez in the past. He not only gave him access to high-grade implants, but also gave him opportunities to join the Blue Wolf Mercenary Group. Jess, the only rank 2 gunner of the group, had vouched for him and mentored him in the beginning. Soon enough, Greem proved that he was more talented than anyone else in District 77, growing and learning at unprecedented rate.

The cramped basement room was filled with the sound of buzzing machinery and the acrid scent of soldering iron. Greem sat on an operating table, his feet dangling over the edge, as a group of shadowy figures surrounded him. Most of them were drones, but Greem could clearly see the familiar face of Doc Juez, grinning at the thought of putting his skills to their limits.

"Are you ready for this, Valter?" asked a gruff voice, belonging to the figure at the head of the table.

Greem nodded, his expression grim. He knew the risks involved with black market cybernetic enhancements, but he had no choice. Just like his magic circuits and his exo-skeleton, it was military gear, most likely taken from dead soldiers. If he was ever controlled, he would risk several offenses, including charges of thefts from the authority.

As a rank 2 warrior in the lower districts, he was constantly fighting for survival. He needed every advantage he could get to grow his reputation and complete the increasingly harder custom requests through the Blue wolf mercenary group channels.

The figure at the head of the table turned to a nearby workstation and began typing furiously on a keyboard. A screen flickered to life, displaying a blueprint of the cybernetic modification that Greem had purchased. It was a rank 3 enhancement, military grade, and incredibly rare.

The figure grabbed a laser scalpel and made a precise incision on Greem's left heel. Greem gritted his teeth as the scalpel burned through his flesh, but he did not scream. Anesthesia was too expensive, and he couldn't afford it.

The figure quickly went to work, inserting wires and microchips into Greem's heel. The cybernetic modification was designed to increase his jumping ability, allowing him to leap higher, faster, and with more flexibility. All in all, it would improve his agility by leaps and bounds.

As the figure worked, Greem felt a surge of energy coursing through his body. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He could feel the cybernetic modification taking hold, integrating with his nervous system, becoming a part of him.

Finally, the figure stepped back, nodding in satisfaction. "It's done," he said, peeling off his gloves and tossing them aside. "You should be able to jump twice as high as before, maybe even more."

Greem stood up from the operating table, testing out his new cybernetic enhancement. He flexed his feet, feeling the powerful springs in his heels compress and release with each movement. He smiled, feeling the rush of adrenaline and power coursing through his veins.

"Thank you, Doc," he said to the figure, reaching into his pocket and handing over the agreed-upon payment of 3,000 Night Town Credits. While the tip was significant, it was actually a ridiculously small amount considering Doc's skills in cybernetic implementations. While he no longer was a rank 4 netrunner, he still was a rank 3 powerhouse with a lot of experience in the military. Finding a cybernetic clinic was hard, and finding one that would charge less than 5 times this amount for such a big operation was close to impossible, even if you searched through the 88 lower districts of Night Town.

The figure nodded, taking the payment and disappearing into the shadows. Greem didn't care. He had what he needed. He was ready to take on the world, one jump at a time.

Looking at his account balance, he sighed

[Account Balance : 2 652 Night Town Credits]

The gear had been purchased in a black market auction, and it had not been cheap, selling for nearly 20 000 night town credits. Fortunately, he had gotten some big contracts lately, allowing him to afford it.

Still, the purchase was more than satisfactory.

[Rank 3 Cybernetic Heels | Military Grade

Bonus : (+7) Agility]

With his current stats, strengthened by three pieces of cybernetic equipment, he could tell that he had already surpassed some newly advanced rank 3 warriors. Cybernetic equipment would often be nocive to warriors, after all, and it was highly dependant on a warrior's tolerance to cybernetic modifications.

Taking immuno-blockers for years was usually a requirement in order to avoid infections and psychological diseases. Implanting three cybernetic modifications was usually the sign of someone turning cyber psycho.

However, it seemed like he was spared from those humanly limitations...