21.3

January 2, 2070, at 1114
The Glen, Basketball Court #3

The journey to the Glen had taken Crystal many arduous hours, her path marked by a string of disregarded fatalities. 6th Street appeared to be pressing in for a territory grab again. Her innate intelligence told her the surveillance cameras wouldn't catch her executing her self-defense, a choreography of survival. Guided effortlessly by Nota, her Eldritch AI, she was at the basketball courts. There, spotting the man known as Padre was as simple as matching a face to a name in the NCPD database. The law enforcement did their level best, but their Netrunners were as insignificant as candles before the radiant sun that was Nota. It was a fact that wiping the AI's traces took more time than actually gathering the information.

As Crystal closed in on Padre, she perceived him as a potential stepping stone toward bolstering her street credibility. His attire mirrored that of an archaic Catholic priest with a worn overcoat. Effortlessly, she slipped past his suit-clad bodyguards, whose eyes darted vigilantly around, dismissing them as part of the urban scenery. The problem with cybernetic optical implants had become abundantly clear to her in the past few hours. She graced a bench facing Court #3 with her presence, pretending to be engrossed in the game in progress.

Seated to her left, Padre cast a questioning glance at his bodyguards, his eyebrow arched in amusement, "Are my compensations inadequate?"

A bodyguard stuttered, taken aback, "No, sir?"

Choosing not to criticize his team further, Padre shifted his attention to Crystal, his eyes sparkling with acknowledgment, "Impressive. Is today the day I die?"

"Much obliged, sir," Crystal responded as she shook her head negatively, remaining remarkably composed as four Bureya guns swiveled toward her voice's origin. Padre's curiosity piqued, he mused aloud, "Ah, so you cloak your presence from sight but not from sound?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Crystal kept her gaze trained on the game, deciphering the score. Padre called off his guards before proposing, "Fancy a little wager on the outcome of the game?"

Crystal shook her head and countered, "I can't partake in a gamble without stakes." Surprise flickered in his eyes as he retorted, "A talent such as yours and yet devoid of funds? The world truly has gone awry, hermanita."

A smirk tugged at Crystal's lips despite the tense circumstances. The essence of Valentino culture emanated from Padre - his speech, his style - making her feel oddly at ease.

"Recently, I fell to death. I was one of Julio Palacio's ill-fated projects that met a tragic end." Crystal admitted, letting the silence soak up her words. Padre's face contorted in disgust as he spat out, "Santa Muerte claims her due, but for some, the toll arrives sooner, eh? A shameful business, but the family won't retaliate without concrete evidence. I cannot take a side, or I would lose too much of my own."

Crystal held her peace, aware that this was likely a test. Every Corpo had trials. Why would a street fixer be any different?

He appreciated her restraint, remarking, "Good, revenge is a dish best served cold; hastily consumed, it burns the tongue." His gaze fell back on the bustling game.

"Cash holds the real power." Crystal riposted, her eyes following an aggressive foul that quickly spiraled into a rough-and-tumble brawl. Her words caused the older man to nod as the fight on the court was quickly contained.

"Wise words indeed. So, are you open to a few assignments? Quality assurance is paramount to all who work with me." Padre probed, his eyes gleaming at the unfolding chaos as the fight on the court got more heated. "Let's tackle them concurrently. Time is a luxury for both of us," Crystal retorted, a sideways glance accompanying her words, "Though I suspect it's more precious for you. At least you aged well."

Padre's lips curled into a smirk, "There's a document in my office. The stairs seem a daunting task at the moment. Could you retrieve it?"

"Which one?" Crystal inquired, her mind already linked to Glen's network, infiltrating Padre's secured address with Angel's Door. Nota was burrowing through the available data. Bypassing the air-gapped system was a piece of cake with a second jab of Angel's Door. He'd know his defenses were breached, but that was the game. Too much perfection screamed corporate espionage.

Feigning fragility, Padre revealed, "If I recall correctly, it was named 'God's Word V1.0082'." Crystal's eyes momentarily glowed red before she retorted, "Such graphic content seems hardly appropriate for a young woman's eyes. Particularly that risqué threesome. Surely human bodies can't achieve such absurd contortions."

A wave of surprise washed over Padre's face, which sparked a satisfied smirk on Crystal's. Displaying no evidence of a cyberdeck, she had taken a gamble, but one she had cleverly calculated. Every mercenary worth their salt had a bag of tricks, and she had just revealed a particularly potent one. "Perhaps you could conjure a task of more significant challenge? I was rather pressed for time on the last one. I'm sure you noticed," she proposed, her aim to display her digital dexterity. Making it seem like her conspicuous breach was due to a lack of time, her swift execution marked her as a virtuoso in cyber infiltration, if nothing else. The absence of a cyberdeck or any sign of the heat it would produce hinted at another layer of her skills. Coupled with her uncanny ability to render herself invisible to most cybernetics, she effortlessly radiated an air of professional intrigue, a signature Valentino swagger.

Padre seemed deep in thought, twirling the crucifix on his necklace absentmindedly, "Can you discern the system my guards employ? Specifically, their neural enhancements?" His demeanor had subtly shifted from priestly gentleness to a calculated, almost sinister, business-like disposition.

"Kerenzikov. Standard issue. It grants them the ability to perceive time dilation during combat maneuvers such as attack, aim, block, slide, or dodge," Crystal shared, her gaze scanning each guard in turn. Identifying their gear's serial numbers was a cinch, thanks to Angel's Door and the negligent ripper doc who overlooked wiping the memory chips after installation.

Forsaking the verbal exchange, Padre returned to the ongoing basketball game. In a private radio beam call, he queried, "Are you playing games with me? Or is this one of Rogue's pranks, the reigning Queen of the Afterlife?" Unfazed by the lack of response, he said, "You've got potential. Surely there were other paths aside from me?"

Returning the call, Crystal responded, "I was forced to discard everything and disappear. My skills are a testament to my lineage – the Moss family. Once I regain my footing, I'll address my remaining concerns."

He appeared placated by her answer, "Solo?" It was a loaded term, indicative of those who braved the world without backup. It symbolized the finest or the most desperate. Crystal was well aware of how Padre perceived her at that moment.

"Solo. You came highly recommended by a reliable source during a pinch. Unless my presence is necessitated as a personal favor, our paths need not intertwine again," Crystal stated, offering a sequence of numbers associated with her new account. Padre accepted the digits, confirming the report and transferring two hundred Eurodollars. This silent transaction served as an implicit agreement of her induction into his network.

"TEB? The Euro Bank, eh? Astute. Practically untraceable. At least your banking preference is elite, V," Padre remarked. "What type of jobs are you open to?"

"As long as it doesn't involve exploiting my body for paltry gain, we can negotiate the specifics," Crystal replied before raising a solitary index finger. "This is my sigil. If I receive a message from you lacking this, I will treat it as compromised." A red icon of a chicken momentarily flickered on her digit before fading away.

"V, the harbinger of Santa Muerte, yet shaped like a chicken." Padre chuckled as he attempted to reconcile her lethal persona with her chosen sigil. Crystal managed not to blush solely because she had transcended her human form.

Padre inclined his head in acknowledgment, "A typical requirement and one that's simple enough to meet. Do you have a particular expertise?"

"Success," Crystal quipped, her grin hinting at confidence. "Truthfully, I do have an affinity for tasks with high casualty rates. Eradicating a Scav den, eliminating a target along with their entourage – that sort of business. Data recovery is child's play for me. And while courier work isn't as appealing, it could prove interesting if I bait those tracking the package, then exterminate them."

A sly grin spread across Padre's face with each of her words until it looked as if the man might rupture with joy. Eventually, the seasoned individual noted, "I've been grappling with several irritating issues that need absolute eradication. I've just relayed their details, along with the corresponding payment list minus my fee. May God bless you."

"Thank you, Padre," Crystal responded as she terminated the radio beam call and stood, leaving without another word. For now, Padre was merely gauging her abilities with such modest tasks. However, once she completed his list of chores, she knew he would sing a different tune. Street reputation was a currency even more potent than Eurodollars. "Catch you later, chooms," Crystal threw over her shoulder as she exited the same way she entered. The guards, clearly peeved by her trick, refrained from responding.

Once she had slipped away from the Glen, she began subvocalizing to Nota, "Arrange the tasks he provided from simplest to most challenging. Padre was lenient with us in there, likely due to my familial ties to the Valentinos. The moment I mentioned Julio, his heartbeat spiked. He seems to be the type who appreciates repaying debts, which probably saved us from a bullet-riddled fate when we initially caught him off guard. Not to mention his immediate recognition of the value of my abilities. We're about to make a very old man significantly wealthier."

"Limiting yourself to a single job broker isn't prudent. Statistically, the financial potential of such a tactic is at the bare minimum," Nota countered. Crystal nodded her agreement as she meandered through the alleyways, navigating towards the Metro. "Street cred needs to be constructed, one job at a time. It's one of the primary filters to weed out corporate spies on the street. More importantly, why haven't I progressed in Skills? Ah, it's due to all my attributes being zero. Damn."

She had neglected the edge that could be gained in her haste, but she would be squaring off against professionals now. Leaving such benefits untapped was a swift path to a body bag. Crystal sifted through her options, appraising each with a discerning eye. Her training for Arasaka Academy rendered her partial to their elite.

"After all, who can resist the allure of a ninja, vanishing into the shadows, silencing foes one by one? I wouldn't suggest starting down that path yet, though," Nota interjected through their connection. The Eldritch AI had a point; stealth was potent, but she wasn't invulnerable even with all her assets.

Not yet, at least.

"How long do you think you can aid me in infiltrating systems?" Crystal queried, her pace fluid as she traversed the alleys. Being on foot was less than ideal, but poverty had its inconveniences. "Up until Skill level ten, we're discussing human genius territory. Beyond that, things start getting truly fascinating. Each point after that multiplies in power."

"So, someone like Morgan Blackhand has a Body score of twenty?" Crystal probed, seeking a more precise grasp of the Skill ratings. The rumor was that Blackhand was dead, but legends never truly die, do they? Nota affirmed, adding, "Exactly, and a person like Bartmoss boasts an Intelligence of twenty. Could I take them on? Absolutely. Could I win? Not without exposing myself, which would be counterproductive. Besides, someone like Bartmoss could likely comprehend Angels and deconstruct them into something akin to Fallen Angels were he still alive. A battle with him would demand adaptability. I would most likely need to harness magic to defeat him."

Crystal's eyes widened at the revelation. The Eldritch AI had conceded that a human could best her, at least in their specialized field, at the pinnacle of Skill. She had naively thought they were invincible, but it made sense if reality's laws restricted them. "If he was from your world?"

"No chance," Nota affirmed. "For either of them."

A realization dawned on Crystal, prompting her to say, "You don't require me to ascend to the apex solely for this world. When I exit, my power is reshaped to conform to your world, correct?" Her suspicion was confirmed by Nota's simple "Correct."

The prospect of a world where beings like Eve, Kudzu, Felix, Nota, and Hut existed was daunting. Yet, such a world could offer an extended lifespan. Even with the best medical technology, two centuries was a loose limit, and three centuries a firm one. Rumors of tech that could bestow immortality were rife, but Crystal knew better. If a corporation possessed such tech, it would have been dissected by an elite consortium. No magic bullet existed in this world to extend life beyond these constraints.

Suddenly, an overpowering thirst seized her. She hadn't attended to her bodily needs since her transformation into a vampire, and now her body revolted. Leaning against a wall, she panted as her body shivered from dehydration. The nearby vagrants, sensing vulnerability, started to approach her but froze when she lifted her gaze.

Her red, glowing eyes were visible beneath her hood, and fangs extended from her mouth. Despite her distracted state, Crystal understood the necessity of leaving no witnesses. The destitute lacked the luxury of cybernetic implants, affording them a clear view of her. If rumors of a mysterious girl with glowing red eyes spread, corporate operatives would swarm like scavengers to a carcass.

Crystal allocated three points to Body, two each to Crystal Bones and Vampiric Form, two points to Reflexes, and one to Sword Dance. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as a rush of information and power surged through her like the divine tears of Santa Muerte. She now understood the art of wielding her blade. The way to slice through flesh and bone. She knew the trajectory an edge should follow, the quiet elegance in executing a silent strike. Her bones felt denser, sturdier, and no longer brittle. Her muscles seemed condensed; their structure was reshaped to produce more strength with less energy expenditure.

As people without homes encroached further, Crystal's eyes looked down at the advancing group, still in the throes of rapture. "I'm so incredibly parched..." she whispered, echoing ominously through the alleyway.

The vagabonds hesitated momentarily before they charged forward. Still caught in the lingering effects of her newly acquired skills, Crystal perceived their movement as almost slow motion. Her silver blade materialized in her left hand as she lithely sidestepped to the left, maneuvering her adversaries into a linear formation. Her hand darted forward, severing a head as effortlessly as one might cut through an onion's thick stem. These attackers were not cybernetic bodyguards but unfortunate souls driven to desperation. They envisioned her as an easy target, a ticket to some fast eddies.

But they were gravely mistaken.

Like a dancer on a grim stage, her blade wove a deadly ballet among them: piercing a heart here, slitting a throat there, severing a leg, and removing a hand. The grace with which she moved painted a chilling picture of an ominous, skilled assassin. Prestidigitation ensured that not a drop of the spraying blood touched her, instead vaporizing as it neared her, while the alleyway became an abstract mural of red.

The final assailant froze, overwhelmed by the sight of a fighter untouched by blood or dirt. Strength was one thing, but an adversary who remained immaculate despite the carnage was an entirely different matter.

Five of the six fell before the last attacker attempted to flee in terror. Crystal suppressed a twinge of sympathy, her weapon flying from her hand with lethal precision. Although she missed the center mass, her blade found its mark in the form of the vagrant's foot. The begging pleas fell on deaf ears as Crystal's blade returned to her hand, and, standing over the injured man, she made sure her next strike didn't miss. Absorbing the life essence of those from the underpass to the Glen, these unfortunate souls pushed her to the next level.

Level Up!

5 Attribute Points gained!

5 Skill Points gained!

Warlock Level Gained!

Eldritch Invocations are available!

A sly grin played across Crystal's lips as she chose Shadow Armor and Beast Tongue to fill her Invocation Slots. Shadow Armor allowed her to mold shadows around her like an on-demand camouflage suit, while Beast Tongue granted the invaluable ability to communicate with her only surviving kin, Sgt. Fluffyfeathers.

Crystal activated Beast Tongue to address her chicken, stowed away in her backpack. However, the hen responded in alarm, mistaking her for an alien. After a lengthy identification process, Crystal managed to convince Sgt. Fluffyfeathers of her identity, brushing off her new communication skills due to human experimentation.

She was following a brief discussion of her recent bloodshed with her therapeutic chicken, Crystal bit into the neck of the heart-pierced vagrant. The taste of dead blood was filling but unpleasant, much like thick, sludgy gravy. Still, it sated her thirst. She removed the bite marks with her blade and tossed the severed neck into a nearby vagabond's fire to leave no evidence.

Rather than spend her Attributes or Skills, she held on to the points. There was no knowing what her next job would require, and the advantage of suddenly becoming competent in something was too good to give up. "So, do you want to talk about how you just effortlessly eviscerated six humans?" Nota asked casually, like talking about the weather.

Choosing not to allocate her newfound Attribute or Skill points, Crystal listened to Nota discuss her recent effortless evisceration of the six humans as though they were discussing the weather. Her recent killings had elicited little emotion, like crushing bugs underfoot. Reading her Coolness attribute's description, she wondered how it might affect her if she chose to raise it. Would she become so detached that she could harm even her family?

The notion was unsettling, and she confided in Nota, who addressed her concerns in a soothing, professional tone. After their talk, Crystal felt lighter, carrying a reinforced perspective. As a vampire, she was no longer human. It was okay to empathize, but she was no longer one of the flock, a sheep. Catching sight of the arriving Metro in the distance, Crystal sprinted. It was time to get to work and secure some paydays.