Once the decision was made, an efficient execution mechanism immediately activated.
A lean special team, codenamed "Probe," was quickly assembled within a few hours.
The team leader was Dr. Mara Sorenson, a woman in her forties with a Ph.D. in advanced materials science and extensive experience in external technology negotiations. She was known for her calm, pragmatic approach and her ability to grasp the other party's psychology.
Her deputy was Major Ward, an operations expert from the external security department with a record of multiple low-profile missions in sensitive areas. He was steady and had keen observational skills.
The core members of the team also included a top-tier cyber operations expert, responsible for ensuring communication security and analyzing potential cyber traps, as well as a behavioral analysis expert, tasked with assessing the true state and intentions of the contact target through subtle observations.
Through cross-referencing Elliot Kwan's testimony, anomalous data streams potentially left at the crime scenes of Strange and Winters that were not captured by conventional surveillance, and in-depth investigation into Maine Team and their social connections, the team quickly identified a possible indirect contact point.
They chose not to go directly to the Wasteland Town, as that would be an act of provocation. Instead, they attempted to send a request for initial communication near a disused communication relay tower on the outskirts of Night City, using a pre-set physical beacon with a specific identification signal.
The waiting period was not long.
Morris's figure appeared at the ground-level entrance of the abandoned tower. Her posture was relaxed yet alert, like a cheetah patrolling its familiar territory.
She wore a dark grey combat suit, with a functional long coat over it, its hem gently swaying in the breeze.
Her precisely modified eyes scanned the members of the Probe team, her irises a nearly true sea blue, with only a faint red glow discernible deep within at certain angles.
Major Ward's breath hitched imperceptibly.
He recognized that unique posture and center of gravity distribution—characteristics only possible after Militech's highest level of combat training and modification.
But to his surprise, the figure before him was even more... powerful than any Spring Knife unit member he remembered.
Her movements carried a sense of coordination refined through countless trials, yet also contained a fluidity that surpassed mere mechanical precision.
Dr. Mara Sorenson stepped forward, maintaining a safe distance.
She displayed a professional and cautious demeanor, without any unnecessary pleasantries, cutting straight to the point: "Madam, we represent Militech. We have received and carefully analyzed the information conveyed by Mr. Elliot Kwan.
We understand that your 'master' wishes to avoid unnecessary escalation of conflict in the future."
Her phrasing was extremely careful, avoiding any words that might cause misunderstanding: "We have noted the specific contents of the list and have preliminarily assessed that these demands provide a basis for further discussion.
However, we are more interested in exploring whether there is a possibility that transcends a simple framework of compensation and ceasefire, to open a more constructive, future-oriented channel for dialogue.
We believe this could mean greater value for both parties."
During her statement, Dr. Sorenson, Major Ward, and the behavioral analysis expert behind them, all carefully observed Morris.
Morris listened quietly, her right hand unconsciously touching her left forearm.
Her facial expression remained neutral, but her eyes were exceptionally focused, as if evaluating the weight of each word.
When Dr. Sorenson mentioned "more constructive dialogue," her eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, seemingly showing some interest in the phrase, but she quickly regained her composure.
Dr. Sorenson then made the core request: "Therefore, we hope your 'master' can grant an opportunity for more direct communication.
Whether through absolutely secure, high-level encrypted communication, or a face-to-face meeting at a location acceptable to both parties, ensuring neutrality and safety, we are willing to demonstrate sufficient sincerity."
Morris was silent for a moment, her optical lenses flickering slightly, seemingly exchanging data with a distant entity.
A few seconds later, she responded, her voice processed but with a peculiar resonance: "Information received, I will relay it."
Her gaze lingered on Dr. Sorenson's face for an instant, adding: "Await a reply; I will contact you later."
As soon as she finished speaking, she gave a slight nod, then turned and left, her movements swift and decisive yet not impolite.
—
Morris transmitted the complete record of the Probe team's contact, including the composition of their members, precise wording, subtle changes in tone, and environmental data, without omission, back to the depths of the Ruined Town Workshop.
Between data transmissions, she looked down at her palms, flexing her finger joints nimbly.
This simple action reminded her of the years of repetitive training at the Militech training grounds, but now, a completely different power drove this body.
She gently shook her head, dismissing irrelevant thoughts.
She knew that the information she conveyed from her master, Osiris, had been accurately delivered, and in response, Militech had presented a strategically probing proposal that went beyond simple compromise or fear.
Now, the ultimate decision-making power rested in the hands of the entity who had given her new life and mission.
In the core area of the Ruined Town Workshop, illuminated by a constant cold light source, Osiris' tall, dark red figure stood before a holographic control console.
His crimson optical lenses calmly scanned the detailed report transmitted by Morris. On another interface nearby, the dimensional teleporter's real-time energy readings and resonant waveforms pulsed steadily.
His logical core was operating at high speed, with vast data streams surging, calculating, and simulating within it.
Militech's proposal, Biotechnica's potential retaliatory actions, the inherent risks of maintaining the status quo, the potential benefits and uncertainties of initiating contact... all these variables were converted into cold parameters and fed into his decision model based on efficiency and target priority.
For him, whether choosing to retaliate with more intense violence against Biotechnica's provocation to thoroughly deter them from further action, or accepting Militech's overture to begin a strategic game of give-and-take, these were merely different paths and strategic tools to achieve his ultimate core objective.
Emotional retaliation, lust for power, or anger at being provoked—these complex human motivations had been highly simplified and marginalized within his thought system.
Which path, at the current time node, could more efficiently acquire needed resources, minimize interference with his core research work, and most effectively avoid the risk of large-scale conflict that would consume precious time and energy—this was his sole and fundamental criterion for making a choice.
Inside the Workshop, only the low hum of equipment operation and the slight hiss of energy flowing through conduits could be heard.
Osiris' mechanical fingers unconsciously tapped the edge of the control console, emitting a regular, cold clicking sound.
A decision that could affect the balance of power in Night City and even wider regions was quietly brewing in this silent space beneath the wasteland.
Deep within the wasteland workshop, constant cool light enveloped Osiris' tall, dark-red body.
He received and browsed Morris's full record of contact with Militech's "Probe" team.
Their intentions were clear: after confirming the effectiveness of the deterrence, they sought to upgrade a simple compensation and ceasefire into a more constructive "dialogue channel" that could potentially lead to technological exchange.
Within Osiris' core logic, Militech's reaction fell into the category of efficient and predictable.
They recognized the power disparity and quickly adjusted their strategy, shifting from armed confrontation to an exchange of interests.
This was consistent with the behavior patterns of large corporations: when faced with a threat that cannot be easily eliminated, they try to convert it into a usable resource or a controllable collaborator.
However, Osiris had little interest in this.
His current core objective remained consistent: stabilize the dimensional teleporter, establish a reliable connection with the Warhammer World, acquire resources and technology from that universe, especially to solve the critical material shortage problem currently plaguing him.
Entanglements with local forces, whether war or in-depth negotiations, would occupy his valuable research time and computational resources.
He needed a way to both satisfy some of Militech's expectations, temporarily reassure them, and secure the "compensation," while also clearly drawing a line to avoid endless subsequent probing and disturbance.
At the same time, for Biotechnica, which was still clamoring for revenge, a more direct and unmistakable warning was needed to completely extinguish their unrealistic fantasies.
"Transactions are acceptable, but only to this extent," Osiris' synthesized voice whispered in the workshop, carrying an undeniable finality.
He decided to exchange temporary peace and necessary supplies for the smallest possible cost.
His consciousness sank into his vast database.
This was not his primary knowledge base as a Tech-Priest; he was accessing another relatively "secondary" partition, storing countless design drafts, unfinished concepts, apprentice-era exercises, and technologies archived as "basic" or "obsolete" in the Warhammer Universe.
His mind, like the most precise sieve, quickly filtered through the massive amount of information.
Finally, he locked onto a target: an optimization plan for crystal focusing efficiency he designed when he was a Tech-Priest apprentice, to understand the basic principles of laser weapons.
This plan, within the Warhammer Universe's technological system, was an entry-level basic application.
It optimized the arrangement of light-guiding crystals and energy guiding circuits in specific types of laser weapons, slightly increasing range and focusing precision and reducing energy scattering loss during transmission, without increasing core power.
For the young Osiris, who had just begun to design energy weapons, this was a competent exercise, but nothing more.
As his skills improved, such basic optimizations had long been replaced by more advanced, integrated designs.
Additionally, he extracted some fragmented logic optimization protocols and data processing techniques from his recent gains in analyzing rogue AI code.
These contents helped him understand the network structure of this world, but they were not core breakthroughs themselves, more like notes jotted down casually.
Osiris organized these two parts into two independent data packages.
He did not embellish or deeply process them, merely ensuring the information was complete and the format clear.
In his eyes, these were indeed bona fide "scraps," but to appease Militech and obtain the physical resources on the list, the cost-effectiveness was extremely high.
He transmitted these two data packages to the waiting Morris and issued new instructions via an encrypted link.
"Give these to Militech's representatives," Osiris' voice was steady, "Tell them this is a preliminary response based on their 'constructive dialogue' stance.
It includes a basic energy weapon optimization technology and some network data processing techniques.
Require them that upon receiving and verifying the value of the data packages, they must immediately begin the delivery process for the compensation materials, with the delivery location and method to be specified by us later."
He paused slightly, then continued: "At the same time, explicitly inform them that technological exchange is limited to this level and frequency. We have no intention of establishing deeper alliances or frequent interactions. Maintaining the status quo, without mutual interference, is the most efficient way for both parties to coexist."
The instructions were not over; Osiris' crimson optical lens flickered, and he issued another, completely different command.
"Afterward, you are to find Biotechnica's head of security, Elliot Kwan, and eliminate him. Place his head on the bedside table in Biotechnica CEO Logaggia's private bedroom, ensuring Logaggia discovers it the next time he goes to sleep."
This command was given so calmly, as if instructing a perfectly ordinary matter: "The purpose of this is to, in an undeniable manner, end any lingering fantasies Biotechnica has about revenge or negotiation.
Kwan's death, and its presentation, is a direct response to Logaggia's earlier bluster, and it is the final ultimatum.
Let death itself convey the message: this matter ends here.
If there is any further hostile action of any kind, the next head to appear on his bedside table will be his own."
Osiris' logic was simple.
Militech showed rationality and consideration, so they could be appeased with a transaction.
Biotechnica, at least under Logaggia's leadership, was still immersed in emotional anger and needed more intense pain to help them regain their senses.
Kwan, the messenger who narrowly survived last time, his remaining value lay in using his death to deliver this final, undeniable warning.
"Return after completing these two tasks," Osiris commanded finally, "Pay attention to efficiency and stealth; do not add unnecessary variables."
Morris quietly received all instructions and data packages.
She had no doubt about her master's decision.
Whether it was trade or killing, both were means to achieve a goal, and she responded concisely: "Understood, Master."
— —
On the outskirts of Night City, the abandoned communication relay tower once again became a temporary meeting point.
Morris's figure appeared on time, her demeanor unchanged from last time, calm and efficient.
The "Probe" team members were already waiting, the atmosphere even more somber than before.
When they saw Morris appear, a hint of anticipation and tension showed in their eyes.
Dr. Mara Sorenson stepped forward again, attempting to maintain a professional demeanor: "Madam, we look forward to the news you bring."
Morris skipped the pleasantries and directly transmitted the two data packages to Dr. Sorenson's designated receiving device via a secure, short-range data link.
"This is Master's response to your proposal," Morris's voice came through her mask, still steady, "Data Package One is a basic design plan for improving the crystal focusing efficiency of laser weapons.
Data Package Two contains some network data processing techniques derived from rogue AI logic."
Dr. Sorenson and the technical experts beside her instantly lit up, despite their efforts to remain composed.
Regardless of the content, "technology" itself was the crucial first step.
Morris continued to convey Osiris' demands: "My Master requests that upon receiving and initially verifying the value of these materials, you must immediately begin preparing for the procurement and delivery of the items listed in the compensation inventory.
The specific delivery time and location await our subsequent notification."
Her tone shifted, though her voice remained unchanged, the content carried a clear boundary: "Furthermore, my Master explicitly states that this technical exchange is an exception, a response to the 'constructive' stance you have demonstrated.
Similar exchanges will not occur frequently in the future, and the level will remain within this scope.
Our highest efficiency lies in maintaining the current ceasefire, avoiding unnecessary contact and mutual interference.
Deep cooperation or alliances are not under consideration."
Dr. Sorenson quickly processed this information.
She realized that although the other party had provided technology, their attitude remained distant, even cold.
This felt more like a "paid settlement" than the opening of a long-term relationship.
However, obtaining substantial technical data, even at an "elementary" level, was already a breakthrough beyond expectations.
She immediately responded: "We understand. Thank your Master for her response. We will organize experts to verify these materials as soon as possible and immediately begin preparing the compensation goods. We look forward to receiving further instructions regarding the delivery details."
Morris nodded slightly, said no more, and turned to leave the meeting point, as decisively as she had arrived.
The Probe team members quickly returned with two data packages. In a highly confidential environment, Militech's technical team immediately conducted a preliminary analysis of the data.
The results of the analysis left them with mixed feelings.
The laser weapon optimization plan's design philosophy was indeed novel and efficient, far surpassing their current similar technologies, especially with significant improvements in energy utilization and focusing accuracy.
And the network data processing techniques also contained some extremely efficient algorithmic fragments they had never seen before.
However, as Osiris defined, while these technologies were valuable, they clearly felt "fragmented," lacking systematic support and deeper principle explanations.
It was like getting an extremely sharp blade but not knowing the complete forging process.
This further deepened the Militech high-level executives' judgment: the other party possessed a deeper, unfathomable technological system and was cautious, unwilling to reveal too much.
Based on this, Militech's high-level executives quickly made a decision: meet the other party's demands, immediately begin preparing the compensation materials, and strictly adhere to the principle of "non-interference," temporarily ceasing all proactive, potentially provocative reconnaissance activities.
They decided to first digest these two "scraps" while patiently waiting for the next possible contact opportunity.
Osiris' cold response, on the contrary, made them even more convinced of the formidable power behind him.
— —
While Militech was busy verifying technology and preparing materials, Morris had already ghosted into Night City.
Elliot Kwan, after the terrifying incident last time, although he survived, his mind was in a state of semi-collapse.
Biotechnica temporarily housed him in another secret safe house considered absolutely secure and reinforced the guard.
However, for Morris, who had transformed into a Rust Stalker, these defense measures were still full of loopholes.
She used the extreme speed provided by Sandevistan and her super perception of environmental information, like merging into shadows, to penetrate layers of security. The door locks and surveillance systems of Kwan's room were rendered useless before her.
Kwan was curled up in the corner of the room, maintaining a brief calm with sedatives.
When he saw Morris's figure silently appear before him again, the fear on his face instantly solidified, his pupils dilated to the extreme, and even a scream was caught in his throat.
This time, Morris gave him no chance to speak or react.
The Sonic Blade slid out with a low hum, a cold flash passed, and Kwan's consciousness didn't even have time to register pain before it plunged completely into darkness.
Morris precisely executed the instructions.
She removed Kwan's head, placed it in a prepared special container, cleaned up any traces that might have been left at the scene, and then, just as silently as she appeared, left the safe house.
The next target was Nicolo Logaggia's mansion in Charter Hill.
The security level here was higher than Kwan's safe house, but for Morris, the difference was only in needing to spend a bit more time and computational resources.
She patiently observed the patrol teams' shift changes, analyzed the blind spots of all surveillance cameras, and calculated the trigger thresholds of the sensors.
In the darkest hour before dawn, she once again became an envoy of death, using Sandevistan's burst and the Sonic Blade's precision, like passing through layers of invisible curtains, finally entering Logaggia's bedroom.
Logaggia lay in bed, seemingly in a deep sleep due to days of mental stress and medication, but his brows were tightly furrowed, clearly not sleeping peacefully.
Morris gently placed the container with Elliot Kwan's head on Logaggia's bedside table, directly facing his face. She even meticulously adjusted the angle to ensure Logaggia would clearly see Kwan's face, frozen with his last expression of terror, as soon as he opened his eyes.
Having done all this, she did not linger for a moment, quickly retreated along the same path, disappearing into the brightening morning light.
— —
When Logaggia awoke from a nightmare several hours later and instinctively looked towards the bedside, what he saw was a terrifying sight he would never be able to escape.
Kwan's unseeing eyes were staring straight at him.
A heart-wrenching scream tore through the mansion's tranquility.
Logaggia tumbled off the bed, drenched in cold sweat, his body uncontrollably trembling violently, vomit mixed with tears smearing his face.
This time, he truly, without any buffer, felt the cold touch of death.
The other party could not only kill his subordinates but also leave such a bloody "gift" in his supposedly safest and most private lair.
All anger, all shouts, all thoughts of revenge were utterly shattered at this moment, leaving only boundless fear and the exhaustion of having escaped death.
He clearly understood the message: this matter was over, any further action would mean his own end.
Within Biotechnica, those executives who had originally harbored doubts about Logaggia's aggressive stance, upon learning of this incident, quickly united, effectively stripping Logaggia of his decision-making power.
After urgent consultations within the company, they ultimately unanimously decided to tacitly accept the boundary drawn by the other party, cease all targeted actions, and completely swallow this bitter pill.
Survival was far more important than illusory face and unfeasible revenge.
— —
Morris successfully returned to the wasteland workshop, reported back to Osiris, and briefly summarized the completion of the transaction and the delivery of the warning.
Osiris merely calmly received the information, his crimson optical lenses not even moving from the dimensional teleporter's data analysis interface.
For him, these two matters merely cleared minor obstacles on his path of research.
Militech got the "technological scraps" they wanted and would pay for them in kind; Biotechnica received an unmistakable final warning and would most likely choose silence.
External interference was temporarily suppressed.
His attention had already refocused on the fluctuating energy readings and complex resonant waveforms.
That was the path to true resources and power, far more valuable than dealing with the corporations of this world.
Within the workshop, only the low hum of equipment operation remained, along with the Tech-Priest's silent quest for deeper mysteries.
Deep within the wasteland workshop, the air was exceptionally heavy due to highly concentrated energy.
Osiris' dark red body stood before the dimensional teleporter, which had undergone multiple iterations of optimization.
His crimson optical lenses continuously scanned at a frequency far exceeding human vision, locking onto the central energy focal area, where a faint glow twisted and flickered rhythmically with the precise injection of energy, presenting a state of controlled instability.
Previous experiments had successfully verified the feasibility of transmitting information and small-mass samples, but they were always limited by energy supply and resonance precision, failing to open a stable rift large enough for practically useful material units to pass through.
The upper limit of energy output, minute deviations when the resonance frequency coupled with local physical rules, and the high energy consumption required to maintain channel stability were technical obstacles that had to be resolved one by one.
Through almost exhaustive deduction and simulation of the massive experimental data accumulated, Osiris constructed several highly realistic energy-space models.
He clearly realized that to achieve the next stage of breakthrough, a precisely calculated energy injection protocol, significantly increasing the energy level, must be executed.
He had thoroughly calculated the relevant data and established data models to deduce various possibilities.
All potential risks, including energy circuit overload thresholds, spatial structure tolerance limits, and energy dissipation paths in case of failure, had been repeatedly simulated in his models, and corresponding buffer and safety mechanisms were in place.
"Execute energy injection protocol," Osiris' synthesized voice echoed in the workshop, steady and certain, without any hesitation.
His massive mechanical body established a deeper physical connection with the teleporter's control core, with several specialized thick energy-conducting cables extending from dedicated ports on his back, tightly connecting to key nodes on the main console.
This allowed him to directly regulate the impending torrent of energy with higher authority and finer control granularity.
The moment the command was issued, the auxiliary lighting system in the workshop automatically dimmed, prioritizing power to the core equipment.
The energy conduits embedded in the walls and floor emitted a steadily increasing hum in frequency and intensity, stable and continuous.
A visibly intensifying, deep blue energy flow, like a precisely guided torrent, surged and converged along the reinforced pathways, efficiently directed into the expanded and reinforced core energy pool within the teleporter's base.
The multi-layered annular structure at the center of the teleporter began to rotate synchronously at an unprecedented speed, its precisely calibrated movement leaving afterimages in the air.
Geometric symbols suspended within the rings were activated by the abundant energy, their brightness and complexity rapidly increasing, emitting a high-frequency but not piercing whistling sound, which was the inherent physical sound of efficient energy operation.
In the air, the smell of ozone and heated metal became more pronounced, a normal phenomenon in a high-energy environment.
In the floating interface on the side of Osiris' field of vision, a waterfall of refreshing data streams and dynamic models showed that energy readings were steadily rising along the preset optimal curve, precisely matching the theoretical trajectory.
Multiple key parameters, such as space curvature tension, local energy density, and background radiation levels, had all entered previously untouched high-load operating ranges, but all values remained strictly within verified safety boundaries.
System feedback highly matched his model predictions, indicating that the entire process remained under his precise control.
"Core energy field stability maintained at 73% threshold. Local space curvature fluctuation exceeds baseline model by 15%, within prediction range of contingency plan B," the servo-skull reported real-time data with a monotonous electronic voice.
These fluctuations did not surprise Osiris; they fell entirely within the various scenario models he had pre-deduced.
His logical core was operating at high load, but this was not in response to an emergency, but to execute a micro-adjustment task requiring extreme precision.
Based on real-time feedback, he micro-adjusted the frequency and phase of energy output at millisecond speeds, like an experienced operator continuously adjusting control parameters in known turbulence to counteract and utilize the inherent, partially known, regular "rejection" effect of the spatial structure itself.
The entire process was more like a high-intensity, pre-programmed interaction with a set of known and powerful physical laws.
"Execute final stage command."
His synthesized voice remained steady. After the command was issued, a set of specially encrypted coordinates and identity verification signals, along with a precisely modulated, highly condensed energy pulse, were synchronously and accurately injected into the teleporter's core.
In an instant, the brightness in the center of the workshop intensified sharply, to a degree difficult for the naked eye to behold.
A faint blue rift, its edges flickering with complex geometric light patterns and its form continuously self-adjusting towards stability, gradually appeared under the support of a powerful energy field.
It was not a violently torn opening, but rather an anomalous region temporarily "woven" into the fabric of reality, with internal light and shadow flowing, reflecting dimensional characteristics and energy pathways difficult for ordinary people to comprehend.
The size of the rift exhibited expected fluctuations in the initial stage, a normal transient process before energy and space reached a new equilibrium, but it quickly converged and stabilized into a clear-edged elliptical shape, large enough for an adult human to pass through, under Osiris' continuous regulation.
The channel was successfully established.
A temporary cross-dimensional interface with actual material transport capability had been formed under his complete control, according to the predetermined goal.
Almost at the same moment the rift stabilized, a figure stepped out from the chaotic light and shadow.
The Servitor that emerged from the surging energy rift had a standard humanoid silhouette that appeared unusually bulky due to the various equipment it carried and had attached.
Several metal containers of unknown structure were fixed to its torso and limbs, with wiring and reinforcement brackets interwoven, and the most prominent was a rather large cylindrical device loaded on its back—clearly a small plasma reactor.
These additional burdens made its originally fluid lines clumsy, and its movements had a heavy, mechanical feel.
The moment the Servitor stepped onto the workshop floor, its head's single-lens sensor quickly locked onto Osiris, emitting a static-filled, rigid synthesized voice: "Command confirmed. Transport Unit-Zeta-7, mission sequence executed. Cargo status: pending inspection."
After the voice ended, it became completely still, entering standby mode, like a package marked "delivered."
Osiris did not delay for a moment.
His attention completely bypassed the successfully opened rift itself, focusing directly on this newly arrived, material-laden metal body. For him, what was loaded within it was far more important than the success of this technical verification.
"Begin unloading," he commanded, and several mechanical tentacles equipped with different tools extended from various parts of the workshop, like autonomous operating arms, precisely encircling the stationary Servitor.
The mechanical tentacles first removed the non-structural cladding from the Servitor's arms and torso.
What was revealed beneath was not basic servo-mechanisms, but tightly integrated, specialized instrument modules with blinking operational indicator lights.
Osiris, using custom tools, precisely disconnected data and energy interfaces, beginning an orderly unloading process.
The first item extracted was a molecular bond analyzer.
It was securely mounted in the Servitor's left arm, its precise Probe head and internal sensor unit forming a single entity capable of rapidly analyzing the microstructure and elemental composition of materials, which was crucial for Osiris' reverse engineering of local special materials.
Next, from a dedicated slot in the Servitor's right arm, Osiris removed the core components of a high-precision material spectrometer. This equipment's sensor array and spectroscopic module were compactly integrated, specifically designed to identify the characteristics of unknown compounds.
Subsequently, his tentacles reached into the Servitor's reinforced chest cavity, carefully detaching and extracting a multi-functional microscopic Probe array.
This device consisted of multiple nanoscale Probes with different functions and their control base, specially used for precise physical manipulation and simultaneous energy detection of tiny samples.
On the other side of the chest cavity, he also retrieved several data storage cores, encased in sturdy, shock-resistant housings.
These storage units were currently blank, awaiting to be filled with Osiris' subsequent research data.
Although these specialized devices were not the most cutting-edge creations within the Warhammer Universe's technological hierarchy, their underlying design logic and manufacturing standards still far surpassed the general level of this Cyberpunk World. They were precisely the research tools Osiris urgently needed for in-depth analysis of local technology and cross-system integration experiments.
With these peripheral modules removed, the Servitor's silhouette appeared hollow.
Disassembly then entered its core phase.
Osiris' tentacles opened the Servitor's main structural compartment in the chest and abdomen, revealing a thoroughly modified internal layout. The space originally used to house its own processing unit and power source was now completely occupied by a larger, more complex device.
This was the core cargo of this transmission—a small plasma reactor.
Its casing was cast from a dark alloy capable of withstanding extreme high temperatures, its surface densely covered with efficient cooling pipelines and energy output ports.
Even in silent standby, one could intuitively feel the daunting energy potential contained within it.
Acquiring it meant Osiris could establish an independent and powerful energy supply core for all high-energy consumption equipment within the workshop, including the dimensional teleporter itself, and lay the power foundation for potential large-scale projects in the future.
Finally, from a relatively independent slot next to the reactor, Osiris removed the Servitor's original power source—a standard nuclear fusion battery.
While its output power was far less than that of the plasma reactor, its technological maturity was extremely high, and its operation was stable and reliable, making it very suitable as a critical backup energy source or for independently powering secondary equipment.
Osiris' tentacles, with dazzling speed and precision, separated the plasma reactor and nuclear fusion battery from the Servitor's body and connected them to a temporarily prepared energy buffer and detection unit, confirming that they remained intact and functional after the violent journey through the dimensions.
With the core materials extracted, the previously bulky Servitor shell instantly became empty, leaving only a largely hollowed-out metal frame, basic locomotion mechanisms, and a redundant processing core whose function had been replaced.
It stood silently in place, as if its soul had been drawn out, leaving only an empty shell.
At this moment, if it were a human, they might look at this loyal servant who had completed its mission with a touch of melancholy.
But in Osiris' value system, pure sentimentality was inefficient and meaningless. The Servitor's transportation function had been fulfilled, and its predetermined task as a "disposable carrier" was over.
Of course, "waste" was equally unacceptable.
A Servitor frame with a largely intact structure and functional locomotion mechanisms, even if hollowed out, was still a resource composed of fine metals and reliable parts.
He would not scrap this Servitor, but rather "recycle" it, re-imbuing it with value.
He began the second phase of work: fusing and reassembling this Servitor frame from the Warhammer Universe with technological products from the Cyberpunk World.
Osiris selected several prosthetic parts he had previously recovered, and after some adjustments and modifications, installed them onto the largely hollowed-out Servitor.
Servitor modification typically involved cutting a standard human as a base body and then installing various equipment according to usage requirements.
Generally speaking, Servitor modification also involved frontal lobotomy to ensure the Servitor would not possess excessive self-awareness.
A well-maintained Servitor could typically operate for hundreds, or even thousands of years.
For the Imperium, Servitors could be said to be a crucial foundational force supporting the Imperium's operation.
Even by the 40k era, which Osiris was most familiar with before his transmigration, the Imperium had become a nation built on corpses.
The modified Servitor quickly regained a basic humanoid form. Aside from appearing a bit dull and slow-witted, almost no different from an ordinary person.
Osiris kept him in the workshop to continue using him as a service Servitor, primarily responsible for cleaning and organizing the workshop's tools, and acting as Osiris' experimental assistant or test subject when necessary.
After dealing with the Servitor, Osiris shifted his attention from the reassembled Servitor to the newly arrived, energy-filled small plasma reactor.
He personally connected it to the workshop's main energy network. With a low hum of energy, the lighting in the workshop became more stable and brighter, and the indicator lights of many standby devices lit up, significantly elevating the overall energy level of the space.
He took a final look at the dimensional teleporter, which was still slowly rotating but with significantly reduced energy levels and gradually closing rifts, and the research equipment from his homeland placed beside it.
A successful experiment brought much-needed energy and research tools, and even an additional localized service unit.
External interference had temporarily subsided, and internal resources were replenished.
In Osiris' crimson optical lens, data streams flickered steadily. He neither celebrated nor sighed.
He simply turned around calmly and walked towards the newly installed molecular bond analyzer.
The next step was to conduct a more in-depth analysis of the Biotechnica gene-edited samples previously acquired, as well as several local special alloys.
Within the workshop, a new research cycle had already begun.
Osiris' two precise and ruthless actions, executed by Morris, were like a bucket of cold water, instantly extinguishing the overt fury of Militech and Biotechnica.
Although undercurrents still surged, at least openly, the bounty on Maine Team was rescinded, and the ubiquitous tracking and harassment temporarily ceased.
Night City's massive news machine quickly turned to other hot topics, but Maine understood corporate tactics better than anyone; this brief calm, in his eyes, was more like the lull before a storm.
He knew that corporate compromise was never born of mercy, but of shrewd cost calculation.
Once they found a more cost-effective and efficient method, retaliation would only come more covertly and lethally.
"The bounty's off, but our names are probably at the top of some 'special attention' list within the corporations," Maine told everyone at the team meeting.
There was no hint of relaxation on his weathered face; his thick cybernetic fingers unconsciously tapped the table, making a dull thudding sound, which instead made him seem more cautious: "Before, we were just mercenaries with a bit of a reputation on the street. Now… we've become 'troublemakers' who can make corporations suffer and even force them to temporarily shut up.
This means future jobs will be more dangerous, and more eyes will be watching us."
After repeated discussions and deliberations, the team finally made an important decision: not to move their main hideout back to the familiar warehouse in Night City, filled with customized equipment and weapon crates.
While that place was full of traces of life and past memories, it was too obvious a target; once targeted again, it could easily be wiped out entirely. They decided to concentrate resources on The Dump Settlement Hideout on the edge of the Badlands, transforming it from a temporary shelter into a fully functional base capable of long-term stationed and combat.
This decision was not embraced by everyone.
Pilar complained incessantly from the start, waving his slender mechanical arm and saying with exaggerated emphasis, "God, this place is nothing but sand and wind! You can't even find a decent braindance parlor!
If I want a proper drink at night, I have to go back to the city! This damn place even has spotty network signals; my 'art'—" he gestured to his brightly colored cyberware paint job, "—is almost getting worn away by the sandstorms!"
Rebecca, on the other hand, more directly expressed her longing for the "excitement" and "thrills" of the city.
She pouted, and even the light in her green cybernetic eyes seemed to dim: "At least in the city, you can always find a fight. Here? What else can you do besides watch lizards crawl?"
However, Dorio and Falco both supported Maine's decision.
Dorio crossed her arms, her bronze muscles looking particularly firm in the light, and she stated calmly and forcefully, "Safety first! The city is too easy to infiltrate—cameras, fixers, even homeless people on the street could be informants. Here, we can see who's coming."
Falco analyzed it from a tactical perspective, habitually pushing up his sunglasses, and calmly said, "The Wasteland Town has an open view, with almost no tall buildings to obstruct it, making defense and early warning easy.
The surrounding Badlands terrain is complex, and there are many escape routes; if we know the roads well, we can shake off most pursuers.
If we manage this place well, we can advance to attack and retreat to defend."
Kiwi had been silently huddled in the shadows of a corner, her deep red jacket collar pulled high.
Her stance was also clear: after personally witnessing Osiris' almost god-like power and the subsequent frenzied retaliation from the corporations, a place far from the city's network hub, hidden, and with a powerful figure guarding it, allowed her taut nerves to relax slightly.
She added in a low voice, "The electronic signal background noise here is lower. If… if we need to establish an emergency encrypted link, there will be much less interference."
Maine finally made the call: "It's settled then! This will be our home from now on, and our fortress. We need to make it look the part."
Thus, a major renovation of The Dump Settlement Hideout quickly began.
They used the Eurodollars saved from previous missions, plus the occasional technical support provided by Osiris, which was far beyond this era—
—such as efficient energy transmission line designs and simple signal shielding solutions—to completely transform the abandoned repair station.
Maine, through his past connections, got in touch with a nomad family operating in the Badlands.
This family, called Solo, was known for its good reputation, solid skills, and discretion. They were familiar with the Badlands environment and knew how to build with limited resources.
The team leader was Buck, a sturdy middle-aged man with skin roughened by sandstorms, sharp eyes, and the straightforward, pragmatic speech typical of nomads.
"We'll transport the materials from the border; the price will be market rate, but the quality is guaranteed—all military surplus or good stuff salvaged from abandoned outposts," Buck said, shaking Maine's hand firmly. "You can trust our labor; my lads are quick and know how to work in the badlands."
The renovation began with structural reinforcement.
Solo family's heavy transport vehicles brought thick composite metal plates to Wasteland Town. Workers used large hydraulic equipment to dismantle the original fragile brick and wood walls, replacing them with alloy plates capable of withstanding heavy firepower attacks.
The dazzling blue light and hissing sounds of welding became the main theme of Wasteland Town during that period.
Buck personally oversaw the construction of critical load-bearing structures to ensure no mistakes were made.
"In the Badlands, if your house isn't sturdy, you won't sleep soundly at night," he explained to Maine, who came to check on the progress.
Windows were a key defensive point.
The original window openings were enlarged and recalibrated, fitted with multi-layered bulletproof glass salvaged from old military bases.
Outside, hydraulic alloy panels, designed by Falco and handcrafted by nomad artisans, were installed.
These panels had a matte finish and, when closed, blended seamlessly with the exterior wall, making them difficult to detect.
Falco spent a lot of time adjusting their opening/closing speed and linkage mechanism, ensuring they could quickly enter a defensive state in emergencies.
The roof renovation was also crucial.
Workers first laid thick insulation and waterproof membranes, then covered them with lightweight but very tough composite armor plates.
Dorio, relying on her enhanced strength, personally helped install several concealed hemispherical firing ports and periscopic observation mirrors.
These positions were carefully planned, covering all approach routes around the hideout.
Falco dedicated most of his energy to building the perimeter defense system.
He led several young nomads skilled in electronics, using the omnipresent debris in Wasteland Town to set up several seemingly haphazard but subtly intricate barrier zones.
Within these obstacles, they cleverly embedded high-sensitivity vibration sensors and low-visibility wide-angle surveillance cameras.
All sensor lines were redundantly laid out, eventually connecting to a newly established small monitoring center in the hideout's basement.
The core here was a server fortified and encrypted by Kiwi, responsible for processing all sensor data and capable of linking to team members' personal communicators and cybernetic eye displays.
The interior of the hideout was also re-planned, balancing functionality with long-term living comfort.
The formerly open main hall was divided into several functional areas using lightweight but sturdy alloy frames and soundproof panels.
Near the reinforced main door was the tactical briefing area, with a large electronic map of Night City and the Badlands region hanging on the wall, capable of real-time updates and markings. Below it was a wide metal conference table, flanked by several sturdy chairs.
The living area was in the middle, furnished with sofas and several single chairs salvaged from the city's flea markets and repaired, and even an industrial-style coffee table made from an abandoned oil drum.
The innermost part was separated by thick curtains into male and female rest areas, and a small armory with enhanced ventilation and fire protection measures, where weapons and ammunition were neatly organized by category.
Rebecca somehow acquired some extremely drought-resistant cacti and succulents from a nomad market, placing them in several corners of the living area.
These resilient green lives added a small but reassuring touch of vitality to this place filled with metal, concrete, and the smell of oil.
Their warehouse hideout in the city was not completely abandoned; instead, it was downgraded to a functional outpost and emergency safe house.
Maine, Dorio, and Falco meticulously sifted through the supplies that needed to remain in the city.
A few well-maintained but not top-tier submachine guns and pistols, standard ammunition of corresponding calibers, some basic medical kits and trauma gel, a few sets of ordinary clothes for disguise, and several boxes of long-shelf-life synthetic food.
These supplies were categorized and stored in the warehouse's hidden compartments. Their value was sufficient to handle emergencies, but even if completely lost, it would not harm the team's foundation.
The person responsible for looking after this hideout was an old friend of Maine's named Old Wayne.
He was once a decent mechanic but later injured his hand in an accident, preventing him from doing precision work. He now runs an inconspicuous spare parts stall.
Old Wayne is low-key, has no deep ties with major corporations or gangs, and most importantly, he owes Maine a significant favor.
Maine pays him a modest custody fee each month, and his task is simple: about once a week, he enters the warehouse under the guise of checking water and electricity lines, opens windows for ventilation, and ensures no one has broken in or installed surveillance equipment.
This arrangement minimized risk to the greatest extent. Even if something happened on Old Wayne's side, the trail would largely end with him.
The entire renovation process for The Dump Settlement Hideout lasted several weeks.
During this time, the workers of the Solo family displayed the resilience and efficiency characteristic of nomads.
They set up a row of practical canvas tents on the open ground at the edge of the Wasteland Town, creating a small, temporary camp.
Whenever night fell, bonfires would be lit, dispelling the chill and darkness of the Badlands.
Maine's crew was responsible for providing ample drinking water and food, sometimes even sharing synthetic steaks and pre-mixed drinks brought from the city, which nomads considered "luxuries."
These nights by the bonfire became temporary venues for information and exchange.
Rebecca and Pilar were regulars here.
Rebecca would generously bring out her treasured strong liquor, exchanging it for the thrilling stories of the nomads migrating across the vast Badlands.
For example, how to predict and avoid deadly sandstorms, where to find precious water sources under dry riverbeds, how to deal with mutated vipers or radiation scorpions, and anecdotes and spheres of influence of other nomad families.
Pilar, on the other hand, was particularly interested in the "technical treasures" occasionally mentioned in those stories, found in abandoned military bases or pre-era ruins, always pressing for details.
Although Dorio and Falco did not often join the casual chats, they would quietly listen nearby. Falco especially paid attention to the terrain changes, known dangerous areas, and activity ranges of other armed groups mentioned by the nomads. This information would be silently noted down by him and added to his electronic map's database.
This kind of interaction, built on pure work and transactions, maintaining an appropriate distance, alleviated the monotony and isolation of life in the Wasteland Town to some extent, and also gave Maine's crew a more concrete understanding of their environment.
When the project was finally completed, what appeared before Maine's crew was no longer a dilapidated repair shop, but a silent and sturdy fortress standing on the edge of the Badlands.
Its low profile merged with the barren horizon, its exterior simple and unadorned, even somewhat rugged, but its interior was meticulously planned and reinforced.
Thick composite metal walls, quickly closable alloy window shields, concealed firing ports, a multi-layered perimeter sensor network, and independent small-scale power generation and water supply systems collectively formed a reliable defense and survival system.
This place would become their new operational center, and their last line of defense, under the turbulent shadows of Night City.
Another unspoken reason for choosing to permanently reside in the Wasteland Town, which everyone implicitly understood, was the ability to take shelter under the deterrent power of Osiris' workshop.
That mysterious place, hidden deeper in the desert, occasionally emitting low hums and unusual energy fluctuations, was an invisible force looming over this Badlands.
Osiris himself almost never showed his face and displayed complete indifference to the daily affairs of Maine's crew, but his very existence was like a reassurance, or rather, a sword hanging over the heads of potential enemies.
During an internal team meeting, Maine once rapped his knuckles on the newly installed metal tabletop, emphasizing with a serious tone: "Everyone, get your priorities straight. Us living here doesn't mean the boss is our babysitter."
He paused, looking around at everyone: "But if we really encounter a tough opponent that we can't solve with all our might, at least we know which direction to call for help, and the road is the shortest. That's enough."
This reliance on and reverence for Osiris' power became more concrete, profound, and even tinged with a burning desire after they observed Morris's transformation up close.
Morris, the elite augmented soldier who once belonged to Militech's "Spring Knife" squad, equipped with experimental Sandevistan and Mantis Blades, and who almost wiped them all out with her almost ghostly speed at Gas Station 66, had transformed into a completely different, formidable weapon after being captured and deeply modified by Osiris.
She still maintained a basic human silhouette, which prevented her existence from being too shocking.
But any slightly experienced warrior could sense the abnormality about her. Her movements carried an absolute precision and efficiency, without any superfluous shaking; every step, every turn, seemed to be optimally calculated.
Beneath her dark gray combat suit was a new body, a fusion of unknown technology and local cyberware, occasionally revealing a dull, dark sheen at the joint connections under specific lighting, different from ordinary cyberware.
Most striking were her completely modified Sonic Blades.
They normally retracted perfectly within her forearms, silently sliding into her palms only when used.
When activated, there was no dazzling light effect, only a low and oppressive hum. The sound seemed to penetrate eardrums, directly stirring the listener's internal organs, bringing an instinctive fear.
On the relatively flat sandy open ground outside The Dump Settlement Hideout, Morris and Dorio had several unpublicized sparring sessions.
During the first sparring session, all members of the Maine's crew were present, and the atmosphere was filled with an indescribable tension and curiosity.
Dorio, having undergone Osiris' initial biological enhancements, already possessed strength, speed, and reflexes beyond human limits.
The sight of her catching high-speed Mantis Blades with her bare hands and punching through light armor plates is still deeply etched in everyone's memory.
Her combat style was fierce and explosive, like a human storm, destroying opponents with overwhelming strength and solid defense.
This made the members of the Maine's crew very much look forward to the fight between her and Morris.
However, facing Morris, Dorio's usually effective tactics showed signs of inadequacy for the first time.
Morris's movements defied all logic. The Sandevistan System, optimized by Osiris, allowed her short-distance burst acceleration and change of direction capabilities to reach an unbelievable level, leaving behind elusive afterimages.
She rarely engaged Dorio in pure power clashes, always managing to dodge Dorio's monument-shattering heavy punches by a hair's breadth just as they were about to connect.
At the same time, using her incredible speed and precision, she used the inactive side or spine of the Sonic Blade to leave clear and cold "marks" on Dorio's neck, ribs, joints, and other defensive weak points.
Throughout the process, Dorio was like fighting an invisible mist, possessing mountain-shaking strength but nowhere to apply it.
The sparring match ended in silence.
Fine beads of sweat broke out on Dorio's bronze skin, her chest rising and falling slightly, her eyes grave.
Morris, on the other hand, calmly retracted her blade into her arm, as if she had just completed a warm-up.
"Four-six split," Maine said in a low, serious voice to the team members gathered around, his gaze still fixed on the arena. "Dorio four, Morris six. And Morris wasn't even using her true strength."
His tone was very certain.
Rebecca's eyes gleamed with pure admiration for ultimate destructive power, but she couldn't help but retort, "Dorio wasn't going all out either! Getting hit by her punch is no joke!"
"That's precisely the problem," Falco pushed up the sunglasses on his nose, his gaze behind the lenses as calm as if he were analyzing a dashboard. "Morris also held back.
She didn't even activate the Sonic Blade's high-frequency vibration mode. If this were a fight to the death..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present instantly understood his unspoken words.
The activated Sonic Blade's killing principle was said to involve molecular-level resonant disintegration. Whether Dorio's flesh and blood body, even after augmentation, could withstand such an attack remained an unknown.
In such a scenario, victory and defeat might be decided in one or two breaths, and the outcome would very likely be fatal.
Kiwi, who had been observing the entire process using remote sensors and data analysis software, now walked over. Her voice, coming through her mask, carried the calm and objectivity characteristic of a technician: "Based on the energy readings and her movement patterns I captured and analyzed, if Morris removed all restrictions and went all out, her chances of winning might further increase to 70%, or even higher.
Her entire system... its integration is astonishing. Energy flow has almost no waste, which far exceeds the design philosophy of any top-tier combat cyberware currently on the market."
These firsthand observations and cold data analysis struck the Maine's crew members like a massive stone thrown into their hearts, stirring up huge ripples.
Initially, it might have been mere envy of powerful strength, which then transformed into a subtle jealousy of why others could obtain it while they had not, and finally, all these emotions converged into an almost irrepressible, burning desire for themselves to also achieve such a transformation.
They were happy for Dorio's newfound strength, but Morris, as a living example, made it incredibly clear to them that Osiris possessed the true core technology that could allow them to break through their current bottlenecks and achieve a leap in status.
"The boss promised before," Pilar couldn't help but rub his hands, excitement and urgency evident. He pointed to his old model mechanical arm, which, though flexible, showed some wear marks at the joints, "to give each of us a 'customized modification'! Look at Morris now, and then look at these patched-together, almost obsolete 'second-hand goods' on us... the difference is too damn huge!"
Maine took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the equally surging anticipation and restlessness in his own heart.
He understood the rules of dealing with that boss better than Pilar.
He scanned his eager team members, admonishing them in a serious tone: "Calm down, all of you! Don't be impatient, and certainly don't foolishly disturb the boss' research. Remember, we must first prove our worth!
The boss only values efficiency and returns. We must offer enough 'tributes' and demonstrate our usefulness to possibly get him to act."
His gaze swept over Pilar, Rebecca, and finally rested on the distant, faint outline of the workshop: "Next, our primary task is to collect as many things as possible that the boss might be interested in, especially those... high-performance cyberware."
—
The opportunity to prove their worth soon arrived with the changing situation in Night City.
The "information" Osiris conveyed through Morris caused a violent earthquake among Night City's elite.
The silence of the two giant corporations did not mean calm.
On the contrary, the undercurrents beneath the surface grew more turbulent.
Suspicion between corporations, internal factional infighting, and greed for "unknown technology" led to a sudden increase in assassinations, intelligence gathering, and small-scale conflicts in Night City's shadow world.
Every morning, if one checked the "Dead Man's Lottery" odds, they would find them increasingly unpredictable, because the death list no longer just included street thugs and low-level mercenaries, but began to frequently feature some prominent figures.
A mid-level corporate executive, an important gang leader, or even a well-known independent mercenary.
Their bodies were often found in alleyways or luxury apartments, their fatal wounds varied, but the commonality was that their valuable military-grade or custom-grade cyberware had all vanished without a trace.
These high-performance cyberware were not entirely recovered by corporate reclamation departments.
A significant portion of them flowed into the underground black market through various channels, becoming hard currency coveted by all factions.
For the Maine's crew, this was both a danger signal and a huge opportunity.
Osiris had previously expressed interest in various technological creations of this world, especially high-performance cyberware.
These physical samples were of great reference value for him to analyze the local tech tree and conduct cross-system technology integration experiments.
Maine keenly seized on this point.
"Collect high-performance cyberware available on the market, especially those that are 'freshly out,'" Maine issued new instructions to the team. "This is currently the most direct way for us to please the boss. Be careful, and don't get involved in unnecessary trouble."
They leveraged their network of connections built over years of operating in Night City and began selectively acquiring these leaked cyberware.
This process required caution and precise intelligence, as they not only had to avoid corporate scrutiny but also compete with other buyers and even guard against being double-crossed.