Bab 36: Chapter 36: Victims Of Dreams I
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Chapter 36: Victims Of Dreams I
...........
X performed a very in-depth scan as he listened to her narration, his brows furrowed, "Wow... I couldn't do a worse job if I wanted to."
Chiyo frowned as she calibrated the parameters, "Fingers isn't exactly known for being good, but this... When did he operate on you?"
"Th-Three years ago," Answered the client.
"Um, must've done a half-assed job to get him to come back for maintenance. He couldn't afford it, so it only got worse from there. Some Ripperdocs do that," Chiyo speculated.
"So he's bad at what he does but also intentionally bad?" X raised a brow as he questioned while injecting the client with an anesthetic, a very strong one.
"Not totally sure, but Fingers usually offers his ripperdoc services for free to new clients, asking them to pay only what they can, seems generous but it's not."
"The implants and prosthetics offered by Fingers are second-hand retreads at best, and at worst they are obsolete, damaged, or defective."
"These shoddy implants cause his patients more problems down the line, forcing them to return to him sooner or later out of desperation."
"I heard that he does this more so to prey on them, groping and well... You know, assault them during procedures, knowing they will tolerate it because they cannot afford a more scrupulous Ripperdoc." Chiyo explained.
X's cybernetic eye displayed the scan data before him, quickly scrolling through it and determining the best course of action.
The client's arm was a mess, and not just from the needles he'd stabbed into it.
Beneath the mottled, raw skin lay a jumble of mismatched wiring, cheap metal, and unfinished nerve connections; a mark of Fingers' infamous handiwork.
The implant, likely scavenged or recycled, was forged from low-grade alloys that irritated the tissues they touched, that apparently triggering inflammation and an itch so intense it bordered on madness.
Inside the arm, the nerves were a misaligned tangle, crudely spliced and improperly attached, sending chaotic signals racing through the limb.
Fingers had either neglected calibration entirely or had botched it so severely that the implant registered every harmless touch as a pinprick, every flex as a surge of prickling discomfort.
X knew that a cheap doc like Fingers wouldn't have bothered with the delicate alignment process, and without it, the client's brain was left to interpret the garbled impulses as a deep, unreachable itch.
Worse still, it seemed Fingers had failed to include any insulation in the wiring, leaving the implant vulnerable to electromagnetic interference.
That's a shortcut that only amplified the sensation and fed it back into the man's nervous system like static.
But that was only the start of the nightmare. From the signs of redness and the thin, oozing sores, X could tell the arm was most likely infected.
The clinic where Fingers worked wasn't known for hygiene, and the implant had probably been installed in a dark corner, dirt and grime seeping into the surgical site.
Infection had taken root, forming a subtle biofilm under the surface, turning the implant into a breeding ground.
This type of low-grade infection would aggravate the nerves constantly, like an itch that deepened with each passing day, urging the man to claw at his own flesh just for a moment of relief.
Even the synthetic skin overlay was a cruel afterthought, clearly chosen for cost rather than quality.
The thin, poorly crafted layer didn't move naturally over the implant and likely tugged on the scarred edges where Fingers had stitched him up haphazardly.
Each pull and shift created fresh irritation, mimicking a perpetual, crawling itch that could drive anyone to desperation.
As X observed the damage, he understood that Fingers had left this man trapped in the torment of his own body.
It was a macabre twist of pain and technology, a reminder of what happened when cyberware went wrong in the hands of someone unfit to wield it.
It felt oddly satisfying, to understand a man's life just from one scan. X had to wonder how the powerful AIs of this world experience things.
X wondered if provided the entire variables of a person, would they be able to predict their future? Would they be able to reshape his entire existence if they so wished?
X refocused on the patient as he mapped out every damaged nerve connection, faulty wire, and infected area, "Sterilize the area."
"Already done, and I sterilized the tools too." Said Chiyo.
"Calibrate the mechanical arms for nerve issues and let's get to work."
X started by removing the faulty implant, carefully detaching it from the nerve bundles to avoid further damage.
He cleaned out the inflamed tissue, removing any trace of infection with a series of antibacterial rinses and precise cuts.
Next, he meticulously installed a decent quality implant made from biocompatible alloys, ensuring it matched the client's physiology decently well.
X also added a protective insulation layer to the new implant, shielding it from external interference and preventing stray electrical impulses from triggering random sensations.
Once the new implant was in place, X took his time with the nerve connections.
Using advanced tools, he recalibrated the nerve endings with an interface that allowed him to simulate and test sensations in real time.
Each nerve was carefully reattached and aligned to ensure smooth, accurate feedback, eliminating any unnecessary signals that might otherwise trigger itching or pain.
He ended with a gentle overlay of synthetic skin, designed to move and stretch with the client's natural anatomy, minimizing irritation.
"You may not be able to afford the operation, but you should be able to afford these meds. They're cheap," X informed the patient as he prescribed him some meds.
"..." The patient was seemingly speechless as he eyed his arm which looked nothing like it was before.
The patient's arm no longer looked polluted. He no longer felt like ending himself, "Thank you... Thank you," He sobbed his words out, "You need anything... Tell me."
"Name," X asked.
"Hachirou,"
"Very well, all I need from you is to go to the waiting lounge and rest. When you feel better, you can go," X instructed, "If you wanna help, just spread the word."
"I'm surprised you'd go so far," Chiyo commented once the patient left, "You're going far and beyond, just losing money this way."
"It's an investment... In fact, I plan to make this a regular thing. Every Monday, we can choose ten individuals who have applied and help them, for mostly medical issues," X stroked his chin, in deep thought.
"It's exhausting," Chiyo sat on the chair by the side, "How many patients did we go through? Thirty? That's way too much."
"Next client," X wasn't done just yet. He still had the energy to go, and he found himself enjoying dissecting his patients and then stitching them back and better.
All the experience it provides was wonderful. He found himself becoming better and better.
That's mostly because of all the weird absurd cases he faced on the very first day, and he faced them exactly because of his free service.
The clients were people at the bottom of the barrel who could not afford even a session of maintenance; their bodies were desperate and they were desperate for relief.
The next patient was a junkie that crawled into the clinic, eyes bloodshot and leaking a thick, milky fluid from his cyber-optics.
They were installed by a street doc as payment for a debt, but they're incompatible with his nervous system and loaded with faulty software. Each optic flits around his sockets, struggling to stay in sync with his head movements, and visual glitches warp his sight until he sees phantom shadows, streaks of light, and nightmarish images.
The eyes emit a soft whir as they overheat, pressing painfully against the delicate nerves around his sockets.
The man's reality has turned into a horror show, seeing ghosts that make his life a living hell.
It's in cases like this where X felt glad he's proficient in Netrunning because the cyber eyes' software was so faulty that even attempting extraction led the junkie to seize up, screaming as the optic nerves misfire, shooting waves of pain directly into his brain.
X had to rewrite the Cyber Eyes' software in its entirety before he could extract them, "Let me see what I can do with them. You take care of his eye sockets."
He was generous today, but not so generous that he would give out free Cyber Eyes. Those things are too pricey.
Chiyo went to work, cleaning the patient's rotten eye sockets, thoroughly inflamed and fried.
X, on the other hand, tinkered with the Cyber Eyes, cleaning and fixing them with whatever tools he had available.
"I couldn't run a deep modification on them. They should be compatible with you now at the cost of all their features. All they can do now is allow you to see, with ok vision," X clarified.
"Huh?? Wait! Really? I-I won't be seein' things again, would I?" The client seemed awestruck. He only ever wanted to get rid of the eyes which made him live a horror game.
It didn't matter to him if he was blind, yet now he was being told he could keep his vision... He was left bewildered... Good things are a rarity in Night City.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
VQuintessence
VQuintessence Make sure to check my Patre.on out if you want to support me and want to read advanced chapters: Patre.on.com/VQuintessence
[22 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
Bab 37: Chapter 37: Victims Of Dreams II
Make sure to check my Patre.on out if you want to support me and want to read advanced chapters: Patre.on.com/VQuintessence
[22 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
Chapter 37: Victims Of Dreams II
...........
It didn't matter to him if he was blind, yet now he was being told he could keep his vision... He was left bewildered... Good things are a rarity in Night City.
It was a rough day. X had expected a rough crowd, but he was still taken aback by the broken souls who staggered through his doors.
With each patient, he felt a strange mixture of pity and grim fascination; here were the forgotten, the casualties of Night City's unrelenting grind.
The city had stripped them down, using them up in its ceaseless appetite for power and profit, leaving behind bodies that barely functioned, patched up with half-broken cyberware and desperation.
It was a harsh reminder of the city's indifference to those without the means to protect or heal themselves, and as the day wore on, X felt his sense of purpose solidify.
X must admit, the death of Marrie's little brother made him feel something, even someone as numb as he is.
He didn't feel something because he was close to her brother. No, it was Night City's grim reality chewing at him.
Even someone like him wasn't used to the abyss that's Night City. It was changing him, giving him a new purpose.
If he were to carve out a place here, it would be one that gave these people a chance they rarely received elsewhere.
It should be no surprise to anyone that the cases only grew stranger and more unsettling.
He saw a street tech whose hands had become one with his malfunctioning cyberdeck, skin fused to wires, symbolizing the kind of grotesque intimacy Night City fosters between people and machines.
The couple hours spent disentangling flesh from circuitry felt endless, every cut and pull echoing the deeper severing of humanity the city seemed to demand of its citizens.
X worked in silence, focusing on each careful incision, but his mind hummed with the cruelty of it.
Even in Night City's most brutal districts, people continued to find ways to survive, clinging to tools that hurt them almost as much as they helped.
In the afternoon, X saw a man staggered in with a modified adrenal implant gone haywire, his veins bulging and eyes bloodshot from constant surges of cortisol.
He was erratic, nearly foaming at the mouth, the implant stuck in an "on" state that left him in a perpetual state of panic.
It was honestly a surprise that he could keep his sanity, and respectfully wait alongside the others in the waiting line, til it was his turn. Must've been used to it.
Still, X had to restrain him, carefully disabling the implant while dodging the man's involuntary flails.
As he removed the device, the man's pulse slowed, his breathing easing for the first time in months.
He slumped in the chair, exhausted but profoundly grateful, with the relief that only those freed from constant pain can truly understand.
It was soon beyond closing time, yet the line seemed unending. Chiyo already seemed like she couldn't handle the workload, and X was doing most of the work.
X was drained, his body heavy with fatigue, yet his fascination only grew. The faces he'd seen today; He remembered them as clear as day.
The boy with the warped cyberarm who barely remembered what it felt like to move without pain.
The young woman learning to walk again, the frail techie whose hands had become his prison.
Night City had thrown everything at them, leaving scars both seen and unseen.
In each case, X could feel the city's twisted logic; push people to their breaking point, and then break them further.
'Each of them is a valuable piece of the puzzle...' X mused.
[You feel for them?] At some point, Y found himself sitting beside him as he asked with ample curiosity.
'Somewhat. It is not that I truly find kindness in my heart. I don't find it in me to sacrifice myself for anyone. I don't think I can give up my goals for anyone.'
'However, There is an ideal in my heart in which I stand at the top, but not like this... I don't want to stand at the top of a garbage society.'
X settled back in his chair, resting as he questioned, 'Tell me, Z. Am I naive? The people at the top of this world... What distinguishes them from me?'
[The people at the top of this world... They grew up in this world. I do not think we have fully adapted to this world just yet.]
'Why do you ask him? You can just do as you want, and we'll follow. Is it wrong to feel things? Are we an emotionless piece of metal?'
'Yeah... Yeah, you're right. I don't know why I am struggling right now. This is unlike me. I just sometimes feel these alien urges and desires...'
[Urges? What kind of urges?] Y was confused.
'You don't feel them?' X was surprised, although the conversation didn't get to continue, interrupted by Chiyo.
"I helped her out... Please, please tell me we aren't taking more?" Chiyo was hopeful. She was sweating a river, and signs of weariness were clear on her face.
"We're done... I'm too exhausted to continue," X shook his head, sweating a fuckin' ocean, "Pack up."
He has been performing high-precision surgeries the entire day, and scanning endless information.
X's mind was thoroughly exhausted and numb, maybe that's why his emotions were let a bit loose.
X forced himself to stand up and also packed up his stuff, though he put it aside for now, only picking up his gun.
It accompanied him the entire day, for a good reason. The patients he took in today obviously weren't exactly in a decent mental state.
Chiyo had a similar experience. Namely, one of her clients succumbed to cyberpsychosis while on the operating chair and attacked the nearest moving target, the doc herself.
Being defenseless then, safe for a scalpel in her hand, she was severely injured, but survived, keeping the hard knowledge obtained from this experience, promising herself never to be unprepared again.
X walked into the waiting lounge. There, he saw five patients awaiting treatment.
From dawn till midnight, they awaited their turn with immense patience. X wasn't intent on breaking their hope.
"Alright, all of you. I want you to line up before the scanner there. My lovely AI Joi will scan you. You can come back next Monday for free service," X instructed.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"..."
"No! No, you can't do this! I can't take it anymore!!!"
"Another word and you'll lose the privilege, then you'll have to take it for the rest of your life... Please, follow the rules," X warned, the noticeable gun in his hand discouraging any with antagonistic intention.
X then walked out, finding himself faced with a line of people, most sitting on the ground, tired from waiting all day... They threw their trash beside them.
They all perked up when they saw him, the ones at the front line quickly standing up, preparing to head inside.
"Unfortunately, we will no longer be taking patients for the night," Before they could lose it, X added, "However, from now on; we will be helping ten individuals free of charge every Monday."
The silent street was no longer silent as the crowd started yelling, chatting, and complaining.
X ignored them and continued, "There are plenty of Data Terminals around here. Use them to access our website and apply."
"Ten lucky individuals will be chosen each week. However... However!!" X's shout finally shut them up, "My lovely Joi scans everything around here."
"Those of you who threw the trash here as if it's a fuckin' dumpster; you will not be accepted... Unless you fix your mistake and take your trash elsewhere. Remember, I see everything that happens around here."
X traced his eyes around, observing them scrutinizingly, catching a few with that classic glare of disobedience, "Lady Wakako will know where you live, so behave."
He never fails to use the name of Wakako to gain an advantage or assurance.
X went back inside, tightly closing the door behind him after everyone left, "Let's clean up."
"Now??" Chiyo was stunned, already regretting her entire life choices. She can not even quit because Wakako won't allow it... Sigh.
"As much as I want to fall asleep immediately, I know I can't with the Clinic's state weighing on me, so let's get to work," X nodded.
They cleaned up the place thoroughly before each heading their own way, only several steps for X to reach his own home.
"AHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh..." He heard screams, high-pitched constant howls sounding from the dark alleyways behind the apartment complex.
X didn't halt for even a second, heading directly to his apartment, and taking a long shower before passing out... It was a very productive day.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
VQuintessence
VQuintessence
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[22 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
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