Mr Jin chuckled and smiled as well, "Thank you for that." For what?! Fuck, I had to see if there was a copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Arcane Japanese Gang Culture at the library.
One interesting thing about my biomonitor was how entirely it monitored my body. That is to say, it easily detected the rise in temperature on my face as I blushed furiously and reported that to me as an anomaly. Thanks, biom! I wouldn't ever have known!
I didn't know what to say, so I simply nodded. Mr Jin nodded to the two, and they both shook my hand before departing. He grinned at me, "I could tell you were deeply uncomfortable with that, but I appreciate that you handled it so well. It was important to them." He paused and then glanced at the door in front of us, which opened up, "Let me show you this place."
I didn't know what he was talking about, "Uhh... why?"
"You didn't expect the Tyger Claws' generosity to extend merely to a firm handshake and thanks for saving two of our members' lives, did you?" Mr Jin asked with a rueful tone. He shook his head, "No way. People know what happened, so if we didn't reward you, it would be a big deal to us and to everyone who knows about it. You want to move into a larger apartment — well, this is one. It's not as well appointed as the luxury units on the top five floors, but it is almost as large because it used to be a dual commercial/residential property. I believe it was a convenience store. Come, now. I assure you you're safe in my presence."
Well, normally, I would not go into an isolated room alone with a man twice my age, even back in Brockton Bay, to say nothing about this world with the added fact that he was a member of a dangerous street gang. But I didn't think he was lying.
Sighing and nodding, I followed him inside.
The place was a bit weird, with a large front open section that I suspected was the previous corner store. He waved his hands, "There's nothing much in this section, but it is good for storage or the front area if you ever did want to open up a store, maybe sell burritos?" He laughed at that and then continued to the back, where there was another security door, which he opened.
The area inside was nice. It was easily the size of a two-bedroom apartment that I was planning on renting, but instead of two bedrooms of similar size, there was one large bedroom and then a much smaller room set up as an office.
It was quite nice; it was even furnished. The only furniture in my old apartment was the futon thing that was built into the wall and a couple of tables, both of which belonged to me and not the apartment. This place had a proper queen-sized bed. Altogether, it was over twice the square metres of the two-bedroom apartments that were on the Megablock's net site and of much better quality. There was even one window in the bedroom to the exterior of the building, with an actual view of Japantown. That generally added a multiple of one point five onto the rents charged just for the view, not that it was altogether a great view.
I eyed Jin suspiciously, which he immediately picked up on, holding his hands up placatingly, "How much?" I finally asked him.
"Peace, peace. The same as you'd pay for that entry-level two-bedroom," Mr Jin said, continuing to hold his hands out in front of himself in the universal peaceful gesture.
That didn't make me any less suspicious, "And how long can I expect to keep this introductory teaser price?"
"Hahaha... you really did grow up in a Corp, didn't you, as long as you live here. If the price of two bedrooms goes up, your rent here will go up. But never more than what they're charging for a basic two-bedroom unit," he said, blatantly laughing at me.
I rub the back of my head, "Mr Jin, I'm not familiar with your culture's customs. Is this the type of gift I am supposed to politely refuse or the type that I would give offence if I refused?"
There was no delay at all in his response, "The latter, definitely. The former is more like small things like if I were to invite you for drinks, I might offer to pay your tab. Refusing at least twice then, unless we're really good mates, is the polite thing to do."
Yeah, I figured it was like that. I sighed and nodded, "Alright then. It is a good deal. I'd be a fool not to accept. Provisionally, assuming there is nothing untoward in the rental agreement, I accept. Thanks for your consideration. It wasn't necessary, though. I really did not do much for anyone but Mr Yuki."
The twelfth floor was a lot safer than the twenty-ninth, too, which was nice.
Mr Jin clapped his hands together, "Great!" He immediately forwarded me the digital key for the doors, which caused me to give him a questioning look. He waved it off, "You can go sign the rental agreement at the office downstairs tomorrow; I assure you there will be nothing unusual about it."
I nodded, "Alright. I'll still try to get my stuff out of my old apartment, though, so he can rent it out again before the end of the month." That seemed polite. It would be a lot of boxes to move, though.
Jin made a humming noise, "I'm sure you have some things you'd prefer to move yourself, but after that, just send me a message, and I'll have some of the boys move everything else; they'll just put it in the empty outer room."
That implied that the Tyger Claws could open any of the doors in the building, but I already pretty much knew that. Still, I wouldn't turn down free labour, "Yes, I do have a few things that I'd feel more comfortable carrying myself. My dad's ashes..." and all the drugs I made.
"Great, just let me know when," he said, and then he wished me well and left the apartment.
I sat on the train on my way to class. It had been a month since I had moved into my new apartment. In a couple of days, our class would be incorporating days of practicum at the Night City Medical Centre, which was about ten blocks further into downtown. For the last three months, we would alternate one day at the school and one day at the hospital.
However, the workload wasn't actually reduced, so you were still expected to perform all of the bookwork you would normally have done, even on the days when you were at the hospital. I tried not to show off in the class, but I was still at the top of the class academically, and I didn't expect my practical skills to be an issue either.
At the moment, I was scanning people going to work, using my deck to scan their OS for open ports and vulnerabilities and then launching a Ping quickhack at them. It took practice to scan, identify, select, configure the malware, launch and then simultaneously monitor the upload. I had been reading and watching more net material the past two months, and everyone argued that the only way you got better was by practising over and over, preferably on varied targets.
Everyone recommended going somewhere with a lot of people and doing exactly what I was doing, utilising the Ping hack. Either on people or randomly connected equipment like soda machines, cameras or Data terms. It was listed as being harmless and "practically legal," with the only people who could detect what you were doing were other people with a deck or specialised security cyberware. Even if it was strictly speaking against the law, there was consensus that even if a NetWatch agent saw you do it, they wouldn't even hassle you too much.
I wasn't sure about all that, so I made sure to scan everyone on the same train I was in and wouldn't practice if there was anyone who either had a deck or whom I couldn't determine their cyberware list with a port scan. That latter demographic was, surprisingly, very small. I would also only choose targets that looked poor, thinking it was unlikely that they had any custom ICE in their cybernetics.
I was also getting to the point where I could pick out pieces of cyberware installed on a person even if they had their system locked down or even if they had a spoofer installed, just from looking at their bodies, in a similar way that I could diagnose people going to work with probable early congestive heart failure just by the way they sighed when they sat down.
I was not especially fast in any of the steps in deploying this quick hack, but I was slowly improving. The skills were similar when utilising other hacks, like the one I had to reboot any cybernetic eyes someone had or one to sleaze and temporarily freeze any installed cybernetics. That last one could be the most useful, and it was on the borderline of being dangerous. Having your cybernetics suddenly freeze up, while not generally life-threatening, was not conducive to your health, especially if you had a liver or kidney. It could be life-threatening if you had a replacement cybernetic heart, depending on how the implant handled errors.
I was slowly learning how to edit the software packages and intended to put cyber hearts on a whitelist to ignore, but I either needed to get a list of all manufacturer IDs or some other way to identify them. Maybe just make a string comparison on the model name, and skip it if it included "heart" or "cardio" or similar? A regular expression, then? That would be a lot simpler.
*ding*
I noticed the hack was completed, and two local devices that my target was connected to started flashing in my augmented reality display. It was only a phone in his pocket and the train itself, though, and that was normal and generally what I expected to see.
I've been having a lot of urges to tinker with cybernetics recently, but it wasn't like I could either build something I would be proud of from scratch with what I had in my apartment or perform surgery on myself to make tweaks to myself. Well, actually, I felt that I definitely could do the latter; I just thought it was insane.
I knew that urges to build things were one of the main symptoms and drawbacks of having a Tinker power, and I was just grateful that while my urges were definitely there, they seemed at least not ready to take over my life. At least, not yet.
I did, though, perform surgery on a pigeon the other day. It had a missing leg and fell into my apartment through my open window, so I created for it a fully articulating replacement. It wasn't a very good one, and the pigeon didn't have individual control of that leg, but every time the pigeon would grip with its other little talon, the small replacement that I had made out of a plastic bottle and some wires as far as I could tell, would grip as well. It was enough to give the bird back total mobility; at least it could once again hang out on power lines like the rest of its friends.
I was pretty sure the bird was one hundred per cent sure I was going to eat it and seemed perplexed that I had not. I don't think it liked me, exactly, but it was hanging out around the window at my new apartment, and I occasionally gave it a scrap of food, which it would grab in its little beak and fly away with, refusing to eat it near me.
The day proceeded pretty much as I expected. I had honestly expected a number of the people in my class to have dropped out by now. It was an accelerated class, after all, and there were a few that were struggling the first month and a half, but they managed to get their heads out of their asses and got their academic grades back up.
I didn't know what would happen if you got hired at a Corp and you washed out of training, but it couldn't have been very good for your long-term career prospects, to say nothing of the people who must have saved for years to afford the class themselves.
I met the afterschool study session at the library. It consisted of the core group of a few of the Militech guys, most of the Trauma Team, two of the Kang Tao guys and about half of the independents. Others came and went; usually, when they were struggling with a particular element, they may stay after class for assistance. I had a very, very good reputation with the core group of study buddies, such that they all said they would recommend me to each of their corps.
Sitting down, one of the Trauma Team medics named Lilia said, "Hey, Taylor. I spoke with one of the Night City hiring managers, and unfortunately, they don't generally hire rescue medics unless you've had three years of experience in critical care, 911 ambulance, or similar. Definitely not with no history of employment at all, no matter how shit hot you are at everything."
I hum and nod. However, she continued, "Buuut... they were impressed with your grades and everything we've said about you. He'd probably be willing to offer you a job at the Watson Trauma centre, and three years later, it would be a straight transfer. Alternately, he suggests you get a job with one of the 911 companies and would be willing to stretch the requirement if you have at least one year of 911 experience in a place like Night City. That's worth at least three years in most other metros, he says."
I nod. I kind of expected all that. Fiona and Antonio look embarrassed, "We asked Militech Night City, also. Basically the same story if you wanted a job at Militech Evac..." that was Militech's competitor to Trauma Team, "... but given your dad, if you wanted to enlist then so long as you had your Paramedic's cert, you'd start off as a Tech-Spec, instead of a private."
I raised my eyebrow, amused. I actually knew a fair bit about Militech ranks. They were the exact same as NUSA's unified rank structure, and a Tech Specialist was the fourth enlisted rank. It was the same grade as a Corporal, but Corporals were expected to have a leadership role and went to non-commissioned officer school, while Tech-Specs did not. "Well, that is an option, I suppose." Although it wasn't one that I was willing to do unless I was starving.
I didn't have any illusions about what the life of a newly enlisted soldier in Militech or the NUSA military would be like. Alt-Dad talked about it enough, but usually in the context of things like, " These fucking idiot recruits... " Extremely structured. I definitely wouldn't be able to indulge in any Tinkering projects on the side, so enlisting might actually drive me insane if I didn't have any outlet for the urges.
Xiao Ling, the most sociable of the Kang Tao study buddies, crowed loudly, "That's shit! It is I, Xiao Ling, that have gotten you the best offer! My boss was very impressed, especially with what you have accomplished, given your age. He feels you might be a prodigy and is willing to invest in you! Taylor, if you finish first in our class, Kang Tao would be willing to pay for your immediate enrollment in medical school." He also had a habit of talking like that. Whenever he answered the phone, he said, "Hello, it is I, Xiao Ling!" I liked him.
Well, that's nice. But Kang Tao is like Chinese Militech; there was no way it was that easy. I give him gimlet eyes and ask, amused, "Oh? What's the fine print?"
