**[Jacks (Jax)]**
**[ID: Iron Saw Clinic Apprentice / Prometheus Test Subject]**
**[Time Since Manufacture: 17 years (estimated)]**
**[Level: 2]**
**[Stats: STR 3, AGI 4, INT 7, CON 3]**
**[Core Plugins: Basic Black Market Surgery (20/100), Intermediate Home Maintenance (901/1000)]**
**[Credits: 100]**
Jacks stared at the numbers floating across his retina. Two years in this hell, and he'd learned to see everything—himself included—as data. Emotions were just bloated code eating up processing power. He'd deleted that software a long time ago.
"Jacks. I'm heading to the Upper Zone. Got a debt to collect."
Metal clanged from the back room. Rex was locking into his heavy combat armor, the shoulder-mounted machine gun clicking into place with a heavy *thunk*.
"Be gone two days. Watch the clinic. Keep the firewall tight. If I come back and even half a screw's missing from inventory, I'll dig that algorithm chip out of your skull and trade it for booze."
**[System Prompt: Mentor "Iron Saw Rex" has issued a contract: Guard the clinic. Reward: Credits x50, Experience x100, Special Modification Part x1.]**
**[Failure Consequence: You will become the clinic's new consumable.]**
"Copy that, boss."
Rex grabbed a massive electro-shock vibrating blade off the rack—still crusted with black blood—and tossed it at Jacks's feet.
"Anyone tries to break in? Don't talk. Just sever their power core."
Then the walking tank stepped out into the acid rain and disappeared.
Time crawled. Neon flickered. Jacks ran routine—scrubbed coolant off the floor, calibrated a few cheap neural stabilizer tubes. Then he parked himself behind the counter, hand wrapped around the vibrating blade's hilt. Standby mode engaged.
Two hours later, someone knocked.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
Slow. Stiff. Wrong.
Jacks opened his eyes. His retinal display lit up—small figure, right outside the blast door.
He pulled it open. Acid rain mist rushed in. Standing there was a girl. Seven, maybe eight years old. Tattered optical camo cloak. Skin that sick gray-white of too many cheap mods. She clutched a doll to her chest—the doll looked more real than she did, except its right arm was busted, wires hanging out.
The girl's eyes flickered with static. Classic neural overload.
"Doctor... can you fix my doll?" Her voice crackled through damaged vocal cords. "Her arm's broken... she's been crying all night."
**[System Prompt: Malfunctioning Girl has issued a contract: Repair damaged bionic doll. Reward: Credits x50, Surgery Experience x50, Random Special Reward x1.]**
Jacks glanced at the signal amp by the door. Its red light was strobing hard. This girl's internal energy pressure was all over the map. She wasn't some stray kid.
She was a Flesh Wraith. One bad plugin away from going critical.
**[Target: Bloody Lolita]**
**[Level: 5]**
**[Threat Level: Moderate (as long as you don't touch the doll).]**
**[Status: Early-stage Cyberpsychosis.]**
"Come in."
The girl staggered to the operating table, still hugging the doll tight. Jacks noticed something: from the doll's broken arm, it wasn't machine oil dripping out. It was dark red. Metallic smell.
Blood.
"Please, doctor." The girl set the doll down carefully. Her staticky eyes locked onto Jacks. "Her arm's gone. I looked everywhere in the Scrapyard. Couldn't find it. If she's not fixed, Mom will be sad."
Then the corners of her mouth split open. Way past human limits. All the way to her earlobes. Inside? Row after row of serrated metal teeth. Shark-grade.
"You can fix her... right... big brother?"
**[Mental Pressure Detected: Jacks' Sanity -5.]**
Jacks didn't flinch. He pulled on insulated rubber gloves and reached for the doll. It was still twitching.
**[System Scanning...]**
**[Analysis: Doll's arm wasn't detached. It was torn off. Bite marks at wound site match patient dental profile.]**
**[Deep Scan: During cyberpsychosis episode, patient—driven by extreme hunger—consumed the doll's arm.]**
Jacks pulled back. Looked at the girl.
"You eat anything you shouldn't have lately?"
The girl's mouth snapped back to normal. Instant switch. Pitiful face. Fidgeting fingers.
"Haven't had nutrient fluid in days. The nanites in my stomach keep biting me. But last night... I dreamed I was eating really tasty ribs."
She licked her lips. Smiled. Genuine. Wrong.
"They were so sweet."
*BZZT—BZZT—*
The doll on the table sat straight up. Opened its mouth. The same voice. The same words. Distorted.
*"They were so sweet! SO SWEET! HEHEHE!"*
**[Mental Pressure Detected: Jacks' Sanity -10.]**
Jacks looked down at the nightmare duo. Didn't blink. In a black market clinic? Freaks walked in every day.
"So you ate it. Now it's coming out."
He pulled a pair of dissection scissors from under the counter. Frost still steaming off them.
"Minimally invasive? Or do I just rip out your drive system?"