"Damn, Vortex Gang..."
Brick stood by the window, his Eyes of Golden Flame boosted to the highest, a high-power streetlight visible from the building far down the street...
It was terrifying.
Yet, there were still a few guys, either too drunk or too high, who wandered into this place without looking up.
Bang!
The ground trembled violently, jolting their nerves awake. They looked around blearilyâ
Brick stared at them, his mouth open, a mismatched array of metal saw teeth reflecting a faint light, making the roughly 20-meter distance between them reveal his teeth fleetingly, looking just like...
A beast in the dark!
"Ghost!!!!!"
The burly man turned and ran, tripping over the curb and leaving a bloody mark, tumbling face first into the street, his head bloody.
Anyone who didnât know better might think someone had been dragged off here.
Brick spat out, "Damn, they say Westbrook has good public safety. We from Watson District donât ever see drunks here."
[V: Are you joking? Arenât all the drunks in Watson District taken away by you guys?]
"... Thatâs not my fault."
Brick hesitated, muttering softly, then grabbed the edge of the wall and jumped out.
The ground soon began to tremble continuously. The uneven mud ground shook more and more intensely, and with a loud bang, a metal drill surged out.
After the drill emerged, it quickly stopped and then withdrew. Four metal excavation arms swiftly pushed open a hole large enough to stick a head through.
Then, DumDumâs head popped up in a rush, covered in dirt and dust.
Among his seven Eyes of Golden Flame sensors, only three were still illuminated, and one flickered. Seeing Brick standing guard outside with the machine, he was suddenly moved, struggling to pull his fingers out...
Bang!
A piece of his finger flew out, cracking the glass of the building like a spiderweb.
"Boss!"
"Come up and talk."
Brick kicked open the lock on a nearby metal restraint box, revealing its contentsâ
A specially designed engineering power exoskeleton for cyborgs that, in appearance, bore some resemblance to the power gauntlets used by Jack.
However, as engineering equipment, its hands were replaced with tools similar to bulldozer blades.
Clickâ
Brick positioned himself into the portable dressing box, and the mechanical fasteners banged into predetermined connectors as if a robot was completing an extension.
This type of portable dressing box would typically cause bodily harm on direct contact with a personâs body during dressing, depending on the importance of the user; some were equipped for comfort.
However, clearly, this suit was designed for those who had nothing to lose.
The Vortex Gang had this thing, but they never knew how to use it. Until now, although Brick could be considered a tank, he was still far from his current form.
Now it was different; metal was meant to be transformed.
Hissâ
Power surged, steam hissed out from the crevices, the equipment retracted, and Brick stepped back to adjust his stance, then the floor fixers popped out and smashed into the ground.
Boom!
A pair of massive excavation fists deeply pounded into the ground.
"Damn... cool, boss," DumDumâs three eyes shone, "We got this now?"
"Idiot, rented it from Good Man. Is that guy inside?"
A muffled sound came from beneath the groundâ
"Here, boss!"
"Good lad, didnât misjudge you, strong as ironâDumDum, pull your head back!"
Brick took a deep breathâ
Air was drawn in as much as possible through the intake port via turbocharging into the combustion chamber, and as the air mixed with the dust, it became visible, looking as though a giant beast was breathing...
Boomâ
The engineâs roar echoed through the streets!
The soil parted like the sea under Moses, powerfully pushed aside by the robust engineering exoskeleton. The core of the power exoskeletonâs engine spun rapidly...
Even emitting a dark red light!
Underneath the soil, Jostar and DumDum watched as the soil was gradually pushed away, the light-polluted sky slowly appearing before them. Their legs gave way, and they leaned against the ground.
DumDum chuckled, "Itâs the first time I find Night City so delightful."
Jostar also began to laugh, patting the storehouse behind himâ
The storage unit wrapped in black padding was quite safe.
"Mom... this is my big brother, but you would definitely..."
[Mom: Hirokazu, Iâm happy for you that youâve found a good friend.]
Jostar suddenly froze, "Mom?"
Doom emerged from the dirt. Brick glanced at a stunned Jostar and asked, "Whatâs the situation here?"
"Well, Jostarâs mom was tricked by the Brain Demon Gang into becoming a biological host, and she almost didnât make it back due to the madness in her cerebrum."
"Is... is she back now?"
"Not yet. The tough guy said what happens next depends on Jostarâs luck; they have to perform a mental sync or something on her every day."
While speaking, Brick grabbed Jostar and pulled them up.
"Boss, this is my mom. Sheâs a bit off right now, but I think..."
Doom patted off the dirt on himself and moved closer to Brick: "Boss, his mom is impressive; she performs full-body prosthetic surgeries..."
Brickâs eyes lit up after hearing this: "Alright, I might not have a mom, but a brotherâs mom is my mom too. If you want to keep a room for her, we can keep her here, but the gang doesnât take in idlers."
"Hehe, got it, boss," Jostar scratched his head, "But..."
"Enough with the nonsense, sheâs your mom not mine. Donât beat around the bush. Get ready, we still have work to do."
"Right away, boss."
Jostar shook the dirt off his clothes and scurried after Brick.
The next second, his momâs voice appeared in his head again.
[Mom: Hirokazu, are we going home now?]
"Yes, mom, weâre going home now."
...
Brick walked ahead, his ears twitched and he leaned towards Doom, "Isnât this kid muttering to himself since a while ago?"
"Boss, the tough guy said this kidâs always kinda sick because of a special surgery he had."
"Oh, I see."
"By the way, boss, what are we doing?"
"See this?" Brick took off the power exoskeleton, a high-energy-consuming device that had to be returned to its case when not in use.
"Whatâs up?"
"The tough guy wants to organize a big race - weâre in charge of construction and participation..."
Click.
As they walked, Brickâs left shoulder suddenly collapsed; he frowned, "This prosthetic canât handle the load; letâs head back quickly, I still have a new prosthetic to switch to..."
Zzzâ
A mechanical arm suddenly extended from the pod behind Jostar, fixing Brickâs shoulder right there.
"Damn... this is awesome? It can fix on the go?"
"Totally awesome," Doom clicked his tongue. "It can perform surgeries while we work."
"Hmm..." Brick looked at Jostar, "Whatâs your momâs name again?"
"Itâs..."
"Never mind, letâs just call her Cereborg; it sounds intimidating. Remember to switch the eyes back when we get home."
"Got it."
Clickâ
Click...
The three walked on the dark street, each step creating a metallic collision sound, as if not three people but three machines were walking.
A drunkard who had barely made it to the sidewalk firmly covered his mouth, praying in his heart that the three demons would be tricked by his feigning death.
In fact, he was overly worriedâ
The footsteps grew fainter; the Vortex Gang didnât care about him at all.
However, the lingering shadow of the Vortex Gang made him scared to move for a long time...
He watched three utterly inhuman figures swagger across the street, followed by a mysterious container stretching out mechanical arms, unabashedly modifying and engraving on their bodies...
Prosthetic modification isnât a favorable term, as it usually implies for those at the bottom, being compelled by life to sell parts of their bodies, permanently altering themselves for work.
Those upgraded arenât objects of envy, nor are they synonymous with coolness or impressiveness.
They have always been outcasts.
[Brick: Tough guy, we can start work in the Watson District.]
[Lille: Good.]