Chương 179: Chapter 172 - Runner

Higgins gestured first to the middle-aged man who'd clocked me earlier.

"This is Takeda-san," he said simply. Takeda inclined his head toward me, measured and respectful, dark eyes still evaluating my every move but no longer with that same imminent-threat analysis from before.

"Pleasure," he said in a scratchy, deep voice. I nodded back at him and hit him with a measured, "Likewise." Next was the woman with the chrome tracing her jaw.

"And this is Reina," Higgins introduced. Reina gave me a small two-finger salute instead of a bow, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

"Let's see what you've got, Ela-san," she said lightly, voice a tad bit lower than I had expected from her general appearance, but undoubtedly smooth and confident—downright amused, even. A simple light bow was my only answer, not quite sure what to say to that. The heavy-set man with the cybernetic forearm came last.

"Kaito," Higgins said. Kaito lifted his drink slightly in greeting rather than standing or bowing.

"Runner, huh?" he rumbled.

"Good. Means I don't have to pretend I know how to use a deck today." A quiet chuckle rippled around the table at that, like Kaito wasn't entirely joking and this was something he actually did from time to time—which was… all kinds of questionable.

"I got it covered," I replied, sounding a lot more confident than I actually felt.

"And I'm Higgins, obviously," he added right after, like he'd just remembered something.

"Before you ask—yes, half-Nighon. Mother's side got me the name." He rolled his eyes slightly as he said it, which immediately set the rest of the crew off with a few knowing chuckles. Apparently, that question came up a lot. And honestly? Fair enough. The guy looked practically full-on Japanese person—everything from posture to facial structure screamed it—yet the name "Higgins" sounded like it belonged to some Southern-American state's backwater trucker from my past life. The disconnect was… very noticeable.

I had definitely been wondering about it myself. I gave him a small nod in acknowledgment and Higgins straightened just a fraction in his seat, the casual ease slipping into something more focused as he shifted gears without wasting a second.

"As for the job," he said, folding his hands loosely on the table, "it's a clearing operation. Similar to what Cryo-san worked with you on before, from what he described of that run. We're being paid to remove a group of Scavs from a designated area.

"They've managed to hunker down inside an apartment complex. Basic biometric locks on the main access points. How they managed to secure those is beyond me, but the problem is simple—we cannot catch them by surprise if we have to break or blow the doors open." His gaze landed on me.

"That is where Ela-san comes in. As the Runner for this gig." I cupped my chin and hummed to buy a second of time as I thought through the problem.' Can I really do this…? I've never hacked anything in real life before—the best I've done is that one Cyberspace dive with Kill Joy looking over my shoulder. And I nearly died from it…' Instead of hesitating too long however, I asked, "What kind of biometrics are we talking about exactly? Got any more intel on that?" Higgins waved a hand dismissively.

"Run-of-the-mill. Low-tier trash. We're heading down to the fourth layer for this one. That alone should tell you about the quality." … Yeah. It definitely did. The lower you went in the layers, the worse the infrastructure generally became. Less maintenance. Older systems. Cheaper tech. Unless you stumbled into the core of the criminal underbelly—those groups tended to protect their interests with disgustingly high-end hardware—but Scavs?

Scavs worked with whatever they could rip out of something else and duct-tape into functioning order. Fourth layer biometric locks weren't exactly cutting-edge. Which meant this might actually be doable for an inexperienced Runner like me—just like Cryo had promised.

"Yeah, I should be able to handle it," I said, letting a bit of [Deception] smooth over the edges and prop my confidence up to where it needed to be.

"Assuming there's no Runner on the other side actively watching it the whole time. That might complicate things beyond my capabilities, depending on who they are." Higgins nodded, like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Naturally. If that is the case, we will simply do it the hard way. Cryo-san mentioned you can handle yourself in a fight, so that should not be a problem, yes?"

"Yeah," I replied with a small nod.

"If I get blocked, I'll switch over and help with the breach." It only felt fair. They were taking a chance on me as a relatively fresh Runner, so if things went sideways because I couldn't get the doors open cleanly, I wasn't about to sit back and cross my arms.

"Good," Higgins said.

"As for payment—125 Credits for your participation as Runner. If we are forced to go loud, you keep whatever loot is taken from personal kills, as per standard. If doors are opened without alerting the Scavs, direct combat participation is not required—but of course, still welcome. Any kills remain yours to loot in that case as well." I let that sit for a second, running the numbers and the risk through my head again. 125 Credits for what could very well boil down to a single clean quick-hack.

Maybe a short Cyberspace dip if things were a bit more annoying than expected. That was definitely worth it.' I'd really rather not have to breach, though,'I admitted to myself.' Let's hope this doesn't turn into anything too messy.' A faint tension settled in my chest anyway. It felt a bit like the first real day at a new job—where you weren't the trainee anymore, and suddenly people expected you to actually know what you were doing for real.

But much like on those days, all that was left was to pretend like you did, just like everyone else did. So I nodded.

"Sounds good. I'm in." There was a brief beat—then the mood at the table shifted, just a notch. Glasses were raised, a few smirks passed around, and the crew gave a casual little cheer in my direction before taking their drinks.

"Welcome aboard," Kaito added, lifting his glass slightly higher before taking a swig. Higgins glanced at me.

"Ela-san want anything to drink before we head out?" I shook my head and gave a slight bow, just enough for [Cultural Savant] to stop nudging me—apparently denying the drink was a bit more involved of a thing than I would have otherwise assumed.

"No, thank you." He didn't push it. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink in one smooth motion, setting the glass back down with a quiet clink. The others followed suit, finishing theirs just as quickly, the casual atmosphere snapping into something more focused.

"Then let's get moving," Higgins said, already pushing back his chair. I grabbed my DuraPack, slinging it over my shoulder, and fell in with the group as Higgins led us out of the back office, through the bar area, and toward the garage. Thankfully, we didn't head straight for the street to catch the nearest train. I hadn't been that worried, but the thought of having to ask them to cover my transport—or worse, scraping together my last Credits in front of them—would've been… embarrassing as hell, really.

It wasn't exactly unheard of for Operators to take public transport, but it definitely wasn't the vibe to beg for the fare on your first gig with a new crew. The garage opened up into a clean, concrete space filled with a handful of vehicles, and Higgins led us straight to one of them—a sleek, low-profile ride with smooth composite paneling and a dark, understated finish.

It wasn't armored or anything fancy, but it looked solid, well-maintained, and fast enough to get us where we needed to go without drawing attention.' Definitely a better looking ride than Cryo's… Sorry, my guy, but it's the truth!' I couldn't help but compare it to the only other vehicle I had seen another Operator drive so far. And Higgins' definitely won by a mile.

We piled in without much discussion, Higgins taking the driver's seat, Takeda sliding into shotgun, while I ended up in the back with Reina and Kaito. The moment I was settled, I immediately pulled out my deck. I started by pulling up my Segment stack and considered which ones I should throw together for the biometric locks, considering my options on how to open them without causing any alarms to go off. Which, frankly, wasn't much of a choice.

Given that out of my current Segments, those that could do the job effectively boiled down to [Layer, Open] and either [Careful] or [Reckless], there really wasn't much of a choice at all. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Reina leaned just a little closer, her attention clearly fixed on what I was doing. I glanced over.

"Interested in being a Runner?" She snorted softly, shaking her head.

"Not my speed."

"What is your speed then?" I asked, genuinely curious. That got me a grin. A very particular kind of grin. Reina pulled her jacket open just enough to reveal the pair of pistols strapped snugly against her body—sleek, mean-looking things that definitely weren't just for show.

"Gun-muscle," she said, punctuating it with a wink. Kaito chuckled from her other side, leaning back slightly.

"She's being modest. Bit of a yokai when it comes to shooting, that one." Takeda, up front, didn't turn around but added, "But not everything can be solved with guns."

"Which is why they keep me and Takeda-san around," Kaito finished easily, tapping his chest, then gesturing toward Takeda. That got an eyebrow raise out of me. Guns were… pretty damn good at solving Scav-shaped problems, generally speaking. Reina caught the look immediately.

"You really shouldn't be that surprised," she said, nodding toward my outfit.

"Considering what you're wearing." I blinked.' … Right.' For some reason, I'd been thinking in terms of bona-fide Borgs when I heard about problems that guns couldn't solve, but that obviously wasn't the only thing that could nullify or drastically diminish the impact of guns in Neo Avalis. Even Scavs could get their hands on decent gear from time to time—all they needed to do was get a bit lucky. Pseudo-Tier 1, maybe even proper Tier 1 if they hit the jackpot was all that was required.

That kind of stuff would shrug off shots like from Reina's guns.

"Yeah," I muttered, leaning back slightly as I returned my focus to the deck.

"That's fair." Given the pretty sad state of my current Quick-Hack library—meaning I had exactly zero Subroutines that could handle something like this cleanly—Segments were my only real option. So I did what I could with what I had. I spun up two separate Segment-based Quick-Hacks and threw them together with the Segments I had gotten from the SPG-01 Shard's completion rewards. Once they were done, I tagged them with names that would be easy to recognize on the fly. [Open - Quiet] and [Open - Loud].

Both were built on the same backbone—[Segment Subject: Layer] paired with [Segment Verb: Open], both being pretty obvious in what they were meant to do, really—with the only difference being the adjective modifier. The quiet version used [Careful], prioritizing subtlety and minimizing system alerts. The loud one used [Reckless], which would basically brute-force the process and kick the door open digitally, alarms be damned.

Neither was particularly elegant, given that [Layer] was not a great choice as Subject for a door or biometric lock, but it would work… Probably.' I really need to stock up on some basic Segments,'I thought with a quiet sigh, leaning back slightly as I reviewed the constructs.' This is kind of embarrassing. Calling myself a Runner and this is all I've got to work with?' And that wasn't even getting into storage.' And I need some actual Segment Containers too,'I added mentally, annoyance creeping in.'

I'm not gonna get away with these barebones 1/1/1 free-form Quick-Hacks for anything beyond layer four biometrics… if they can even handle that.' My lips pressed into a thin line as I stared at the rough framework I'd just built. Free-form Segment-based Quick-Hacks were flexible as hell—that was their whole selling point compared to Subroutine-based ones.

You could mix and match Segments on the fly, tailor something to the situation right there in the moment, no pre-compiled, mostly bug-free twenty-thousand plus line code required. But that freedom came with a necessity for structure, ironically enough. If you actually wanted the Segments to play nice together and not eat through your RAM and HEAT capacity like a rabid dog, you needed proper wrapper-containers to house them.

Without those, you were stuck cramming everything into the most basic layout possible and hoping it didn't tear itself apart mid-execution. And most decks in my price range—which was to say, dirt-fucking-cheap—only came with 1/1/1 containers built in. Subject. Verb. Adjective. One each, no more. If I wanted to stack additional Segments to fine-tune behavior beyond the bare minimum, I'd have to buy larger containers separately. Which, of course, cost Credits.'

Everything always comes down to damn Credits,'I thought sourly.' Every single time. Gear, knowledge, quick-hacks… This is the worst.' I exhaled slowly, eyes flicking over the two hacks again, before nodding and closing my deck. They were as ready as they were ever gonna be… Several minutes later, we'd made it all the way down to the fourth layer of the city. Natural light barely reached this far anymore, only thin, weak slivers filtering down between the stacked infrastructure above.

Most of the illumination came from elsewhere—massive ad-screens casting neon-tinted glow across the streets, and rows of LED streetlights humming quietly as they filled in the gaps with a cold, artificial brightness. A few turns later, Higgins slowed the vehicle and guided it smoothly into a narrow alley just around the corner from our target building.

The engine cut without drama, leaving us in that low, layered hum that always seemed to permeate the lower districts—distant traffic from the highways, faulty ventilation units creaking and popping, and the ever-present buzz of failing infrastructure trying its best. The fourth layer looked exactly like I had expected. The buildings here weren't ancient—not in terms of years—but they felt neglected in a way that was honestly far worse.

Concrete facades stained by years of runoff, cracked tiles, metal shutters pulled halfway down over storefronts that had long since given up pretending to be profitable. Most of the windows were barred, some welded shut entirely. A few convenience stores clung to life between apartment blocks, their signage flickering unevenly, offering cheap synth-snacks and knockoff batteries to anyone still grinding it out down here.

It was mostly residential—long, rectangular apartment complexes stacked tight against each other, balconies sagging slightly, laundry lines strung between rusted railings. The kind of place where people kept their heads down and didn't ask questions—and Scavs loved to make their homes. We filed out of the car in practiced order with no chatter. No one drew a weapon outright, but postures noticeably shifted into work-mode.

Takeda stepped a little ahead and to the side, eyes scanning upper windows and rooftop lines for movement. Kaito lingered near the alley entrance for a second, pretending to check his comm while actually watching reflections in a cracked shop window across the street. Reina adjusted her jacket and casually pivoted in place, stretching her shoulders in a way that just happened to give her a full sweep of the immediate surroundings. They cleared the space without ever looking like they were clearing it.

After a moment, Takeda gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Higgins looked at me and jerked his chin toward the corner. I jogged over, keeping my head down and movements casual, until I reached the entrance of the apartment complex the Scavs had claimed. The door itself was reinforced metal, old but functional, with a biometric panel mounted beside it. Nothing fancy, just as promised.

I pulled out my deck and hugged close to the wall, keeping my body angled so I wasn't easily visible from the street or any of the nearby windows. The last thing I wanted was to be silhouetted mid-hack like an idiot. The biometric display flickered faintly as I examined it, running a quick visual sweep for a physical access point. Sure, Quick-Hacks could be launched wirelessly. But that was always noisier, riskier and more wasteful in terms of RAM and HEAT—both things I didn't exactly have in spades.

A direct physical link made everything easier, so it was always best to check, even if they were rarely easily accessible. And, to my genuine surprise, I actually managed to find it. A small jack-in slot tucked beneath the main panel's housing, requiring me to just flip a grimy, half-stuck cover up. It was slightly worn, but otherwise seemed perfectly intact. I paused.' That… feels almost too easy and convenient.' For a brief second, the thought that it might be a trap crossed my mind.

Some kind of crude booby trap wired into the port. But then reality reasserted itself.' They are Scavs.' The odds that they'd gone out of their way to rig their own biometric access panel with an explosive countermeasure? Vanishingly small. Still, I didn't rush it. There was no need for it, after all. And underestimating someone was a quick way to get yourself blown to hell and back by an IED, even if the chances for one existing was small.

I let [Netrunning] sharpen my focus on specific points of the biometric lock as I visually inspected the housing seams and cable routing, then leaned on [Stealth] to try help me notice the subtle details—scratches, irregular wiring, anything that didn't fit or looked like somebody had tried to hide something that didn't belong. Neither Skill was exactly tailored for trap detection; something like [Trapping] or even [Jury-Rigging] would've been ideal. But I didn't have either of those ready to go. So I made do.

I traced the panel edges with my eyes, watched for unnatural tension in the casing, looked for additional sensors or jury-rigged triggers manually. Nothing stood out beyond the usual low-tier installation sloppiness. Behind me, I heard Higgins shift slightly.

"Everything alright?" he asked quietly.

"Just making sure this thing won't explode in my face," I replied without looking back.

"Scavs can be… creative." There was a brief pause. Then a faint exhale and the sound of a shrug.

"Fair point." Satisfied enough that I wasn't about to detonate myself for a measly 125 Credits, I pulled out my Deck's jacking cable and slotted it into the port, angling my body slightly to shield the connection point. I had tugged Misha's scarf up higher over my mouth and nose, just in case something did decide to go boom. But—nothing did. Instead, my Deck gave a soft pulse, a small glowing icon confirming a clean connection to the biometric lock.' Well.

That's anticlimactic,'I thought, relief slipping in almost immediately.' Guess I won't have to dive into Cyberspace today after all. Lucky me.' I loaded [Open - Quiet] into memory, fingers steady now that the hard part—plugging into a potential trap—was over.

"Alright," I said quietly, glancing back at Higgins.

"Going for the first attempt. Be ready in case there's some kind of alarm or alert. Shouldn't be—but better safe than sorry." Higgins didn't waste time. He gestured to the others, and the crew shifted positions instantly. Reina angled herself to cover the stairwell windows, pulling out both of her pistols. Kaito took a step to the side, watching the street. Takeda moved just off my shoulder, ready to counter anyone abruptly bursting out of the door. Higgins gave me a short, determined nod. I tapped the screen.

The Quick-Hack surged down the cable and into the biometric lock's core. For a split second, my pulse spiked as I waited for resistance—some hidden countermeasure, some ugly surprise—my eyes glued to the Deck's rapidly scrolling lines of telemetrics and lines of code executing, searching for anything that might indicate a problem. But instead of any of that happening, all that happened, roughly half a second after tapping on my Deck to get started, was one clean, polite little beep. The lock disengaged.

The door clicked open.

"Huh?" I let out, genuinely surprised at how easy that had been. A firm hand clapped against my shoulder.

"Clean, quick work," Higgins said with approval.

"I like it." Frankly? So did I. That had been almost insultingly easy. But then again, in hindsight it made a lot of sense. I was running a comparatively overpowered Deck—when compared to your average Scav's—loaded with Kill Joy-written Segments against a Scav-hijacked, biometric lock on the fourth layer. I wasn't exactly dueling some elite netrunner like Ghost or cracking a corporate vault here.' Still feels damn good, though.' My first successful Quick-Hack on a non-living target, executed cleanly and quietly.

As those thoughts bounced around in my head, I retracted the cable and tucked it back into the Deck. Takeda moved first, drawing a katana from seemingly nowhere—one smooth, silent motion—and slipped through the open door like a shadow. The rest of the crew followed close behind, formation tightening without a word. I stowed the Deck, swung my DuraPack back into place, and pulled out Raz along with two throwing knives, letting the familiar weight settle into my hands before stepping in behind them.'

No point wasting perfectly good combat experience,'I thought.' Or loot...'