"Hello, Dr. Viktor. I've heard about you from others—they say you're an incredible medic and a former boxing champ."
It was V's first real experience with the six degrees of separation.
She'd only known Leo and Jack for three days, and already people were saying, "I've heard about you." It was… a pretty surreal feeling.
Viktor casually tossed his towel onto the table and chuckled. "Just call me Vik, kid. My glory days are long behind me."
It had been a long time since anyone called her "kid." Oddly enough, she didn't mind—in fact, it felt… kind of nice. Vik really did give off the vibe of a trustworthy elder.
After a few polite exchanges, the conversation shifted back to Leo.
"What about you, Leo? Weren't we scheduled for a follow-up in a week? What brings you in early? Something wrong?"
Leo shook his head. "Quite the opposite—I feel great. Fully recovered."
He repeated the excuse about heading back home in a couple of days and added, "I figured I'd swap out my cyberware now so I have time to adjust to it. If there's any issue, I can still come to you. Once I'm back home, I probably won't have the chance."
Vik didn't pry—he respected doctor-patient boundaries.
"Alright. Let's run a routine checkup, and I'll extract your body data to assess your cyberware potential."
Leo nodded and jumped right into the process.
While they worked, V wandered around the clinic, eyeing Vik's trophies and medals with clear envy.
Honestly, if she had the money for combat implants, she might've given the ring a shot herself. With her instincts and technique, she could've been chasing gold belts too.
Half an hour later, the results came in.
Vik looked at the screen, clicking his tongue in appreciation. "Your recovery is impressive—top-tier. I gotta say, your physical vitality is the highest I've seen."
Leo perked up. "Wait, you mean I've got crazy potential?"
"No, no, no—don't get ahead of yourself. Vitality and potential are two different things. Your cells are just really active. In simple terms, you've got a strong constitution and excellent recovery. Looks like you're built to live a long, healthy life."
"What about my actual potential?"
"Hold on, that's next."
Vik clicked over to the bio-monitoring interface and opened a proprietary software, feeding in the collected data.
A progress bar crawled steadily forward. A few minutes later, the evaluation appeared on screen:
Body Potential: 11
Reflex Potential: 12
Intelligence Potential: 15
Leo wasn't sure whether that was high or low, but judging from Vik and V's expressions—it looked pretty good.
"So… is that decent?" he asked, a bit nervous.
Vik glanced at him, then grinned. "Very solid—no glaring weaknesses. Your intelligence potential is especially high. You've got what it takes to be a top-tier netrunner."
Leo beamed.
Vik chuckled. "Don't get too cocky. These values are just predictions based on biological indicators. Like the term says—it's potential. You'll need serious training to actually bring that out."
"Here's some more good news: your body is healthy but clearly hasn't been trained much. If you start working out seriously, you can raise your potential a little more."
Leo had figured as much. The beefcakes at the gym probably leveled up the same way—through training.
And considering that V started the game with most stats below 6, Leo was feeling very smug.
With serious training, he might even be able to beat V the Unstoppable someday.
He glanced at her.
She gave him a massive eye roll—dripping with disdain.
Leo's curiosity kicked in. "V, what were your potentials?"
"Higher than yours. Don't really remember," she said, arms crossed, smirking.
Leo was about to goad her into revealing it when Vik tapped the desk and opened a new screen.
"Now, by regulation, I have to log your cyberware potential into your file. But… you can decide what number goes in there. I wouldn't recommend overshooting it. You can underreport it, though. Catch my drift?"
Overshooting was obvious—if some sketchy ripper just plugged in high-load gear without testing, it could kill you.
But underreporting…
"To keep a low profile?"
V nodded. "The tall poppy gets cut. Happens in every industry. High potential draws corporate attention—but also scum like scavengers. And honestly, corporate attention isn't always good."
"Exactly. I heard some chatter from a few mercs about Arasaka's so-called 'Youth Netrunner Training Program.' With a 15 in Intelligence and the right age, they'd love to pull you into that mystery department."
Vik pushed back from the desk and rolled away in his chair, leaving Leo in front of the keyboard.
"Fill it in yourself. Just saying—you might wanna downplay a little."
Leo nodded. No reason to show all his cards.
He typed:
Body: 10
Reflex: 10
Intelligence: 12
Good enough. Vik would know the real numbers anyway when installing implants.
V clapped a hand on his shoulder, teasing, "Men… always obsessed with appearances. If you wanted to downplay, you could've just said 5 or 6. But no, you had to cling to those double digits."
Leo rolled his eyes. "I have to look cool, or else what's the point? Playing dumb just gets you treated like one. Besides… I bet your Intelligence is in the single digits!"
V's expression froze.
Leo immediately corrected: "Wait—actually, I bet it's under 5!"
He watched her face closely, wondering if he should go all the way to 3.
BAM!
He didn't see it coming. Her fist slammed into his face like a cinderblock.
"I don't care. As long as it works—I'm not trying to be a netrunner!"
"You couldn't even if you tried..."
BAM!
Another punch. Leo surrendered.
Getting publicly beaten by his own employee-slash-bodyguard—that was definitely going in the grudge book.
Still, V getting that mad probably did mean her Intelligence…
Crack, crack—
The sound of knuckles popping shut down his train of thought.
Vik silently watched them bicker, a soft, fatherly smile on his face.
After a while, Leo remembered why he came—and laid down on the operating table.
Last thing before surgery: check the bank account—€25,000.
Not exactly a fortune.
His days of spending big were coming back to bite him.
But Leo didn't regret a thing. If he was heading back to Gotham, he'd better burn every cent now to strengthen himself.
Worst case, he could always fall back on Zero-Dollar Shopping.
That was future Leo's problem. Right now...
"Hey Vik, can I… use my original eyes as collateral and borrow a bit more cash?"
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