Chapter 34 (Part 5)

"Getting them isn't the issue. But why the hell do you even want these?"

I gave the elongated arms a once-over — about one and a half times the length of standard limbs.

"They won't fry your brain, sure, but they're gonna take some getting used to. The proportions are off, so the response time will lag. Plus, you'll constantly feel like something's wrong — like they don't belong to you. Almost… alien. You seriously planning to install these?"

I raised an eyebrow and gave Pilar a slow, deliberate scan from head to toe.

"So basically, they're junk?" he summed up.

"Pretty much. If you're looking for a combat upgrade, you're better off with this model."

I flicked my fingers, and a holographic projection of a sleek pair of arms materialized — perfectly proportioned, almost indistinguishable from real human limbs.

"I can even tweak them to your specs. For an extra fee, of course. The closer an implant matches your original limb's shape, the better it performs."

"I'll think about it," he said with a serious nod before turning toward the exit.

"Come on, squirt."

Rebecca didn't say a word, just trailed after her brother. Guess the whole thing hit her harder than she let on. Still, she seemed like the bounce-back type. And with the kind of apathy she's cultivated? One therapy session — no matter how 'extreme' — isn't scrubbing that clean. Give it two, maybe three days tops, and she'll be back to normal.

"Later," Becca waved before disappearing behind the descending iron door.

"Well, that's another job wrapped."

I turned to the girls, who were doing their best to blend into the background, eyeing them with mock suspicion.

"Why the sudden silence?"

"Eh, no reason," Lucy said, waving it off while still staring at the door.

"Do you always handle things like that?" Sasha squinted at me like I'd just confessed to war crimes.

"Like what?" I shot her the same suspicious glare.

"You find someone's problem, fix it without asking, then dump the existential crisis in their lap."

She raised a perfectly arched brow.

"Ah, damn. You got me."

I lifted my hands in mock surrender as the girls burst into laughter.

"But seriously," I said, sobering up just a little, "there's a reason I do it that way."

"And what's that?" Yakovleva the Younger asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

"It's not enough to fix the problem. You have to make them want to solve it themselves. Nudge them in the right direction. Otherwise, they'll just keep screwing up the same way over and over."

"There you go again," Alexandra groaned, rolling her eyes.

"You know… we actually live with him," Lucy casually pointed out.

"Oh, so you two are in cahoots now, huh? I see how it is."

I flashed them my best kind and understanding smile — the kind that immediately put one small blonde on high alert.

"Dad, it was just a joke…" she backpedaled fast.

"No worries, I like jokes too…"

I shot a wink at Roxy, who was off to the side, trying way too hard to hide the smug little smile creeping onto her face.

"I'm filing a complaint!" the girl blurted out in a last-ditch attempt at self-defense.

"Your complaints will be duly noted," I assured her, letting a slight pause linger before adding with a smirk,

"…probably."

"Oh, so this is what domestic tyranny looks like," Lucy declared, dramatically lowering her head in mock despair.

"Mutiny on board can be punishable," I mused, throwing the line out like an afterthought.

"I surrender to the mercy of my captor," the blonde replied, raising both hands in mock defeat.

"I believe you…" I rolled my eyes as laughter filled the space around us.

***

February 15, 2068

Rosalind Myers POV

Militech Corporate Headquarters

Rosalind meticulously reviewed the reports from her ever-reliable assistant. As Militech's Deputy CEO, she preferred to handle documentation herself — stripping away the fluff and keeping only the essentials. Her subordinate's efficiency saved her a massive amount of time — something she never had enough of.

Incoming video call – Elizabeth Kress

Establishing encrypted channel...

"Rosa, I haven't received the monthly report. Is something wrong?"

The concern in Elizabeth's voice was clear. Onscreen, the dark-haired woman looked remarkably young, despite the faint web of implant scars tracing her face.

"There's been trouble," Rosalind replied, leaning back in her chair. "The corps have been unusually active. I'm buried in reports."

"I understand completely."

The President of the NUSA fell silent for a beat, as if giving Rosalind a moment to breathe. Then, with a subtle shift in tone, she asked, "How's your preparation going?"

"Within acceptable parameters. But lately, convoy attacks in the northern wastelands have spiked. We're finding nothing at the scenes — whoever's behind this is thorough. All that's left is wreckage."

"What do the satellites show?" Kress asked, frowning.

"Nothing. Total blackout. Someone's using a high-powered jammer during the attacks — killing all surveillance. Every baited trap we've tried has failed. Because of that, I've had to halt staging ground expansion. We can't secure the rest of the continent until this is under control."

"How long will it take to establish enough staging grounds?" the President asked, her tone sharpening.

"A year — eighteen months tops," Rosalind answered, closing her eyes briefly, doing the math in her head.

"Acceptable. But slow," Kress said, shaking her head.

Rosalind only spread her hands in a silent apology, her expression saying: I'm already doing everything humanly — and inhumanly — possible.

"Any leads on who's behind the attacks?"

"None. They move like ghosts. But we keep finding traces of high-output, narrow-beam laser and thermal weapons at the sites. Even our Dragoon-series heat-resistant platforms are getting torn apart."

"Someone's built a compact laser that works in atmosphere?" Kress asked, eyebrows rising.

"Exactly. And whoever it is, they're on a damn safari — with us as the prey. They're running circles around Militech."

Rosalind scowled, barely holding back a string of curses.

"Only the major corps could pull off something like this. Any suspects?"

"Kang-Tao and Arasaka. They're the only ones far enough along in atmospheric laser development. The USSR abandoned that tech years ago."

"It's not Arasaka," Kress said without hesitation. "Their influence in the region has been minimal since the 2023 disaster. And the Chinese? They've been getting caught red-handed too often lately. The communists are furious, and tensions are on the verge of boiling over."

Rosalind shook her head. "Doubt it. The commies have gone too quiet lately. Even their secret police have gone underground. They're definitely planning something — but not this. I'm sure of it."

"You're right. And we won't get confirmation either way. Still, we'd be wise to stay alert. I've heard whispers that the Soviets pulled off a successful op against Kang-Tao — wiped their entire server farm inside their own HQ without leaving a trace. Of course, Kang-Tao pointed fingers, but it never went beyond public accusations," Elizabeth said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"That sounds exactly like them. The secret police prefer surgical strikes — silent, clean, efficient," Rosalind mused, a faint note of admiration creeping into her tone. "And it tracks with China's recent aggression toward the USSR. Even the most patient bear will bite — and judging by recent events, it bites well."

"Exactly."

Elizabeth smiled knowingly.

"Rosa, I don't have much time, so I'll be blunt. You've got eighteen months. I can't give you more than that. Send the monthly report through your secretary — what I needed to hear, I already have. If anything goes sideways and requires my direct intervention, use the emergency line. End of transmission."

"Understood. Thank you for your time," Rosalind said, closing her eyes briefly.

Connection terminated – Call ended

"Sarah, call in Senior Operations Manager Donald Lundy Jr. I want to speak with him personally about our current logistics chain."

"Yes, ma'am."

Rosalind exhaled sharply, reluctantly turning back to the stack of reports she'd abandoned mid-call.

"These damn reports… will they ever end?"

______________________________________________________

Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreøn.

[https://www.patreøn.com/amattsu]

The link is also in the synopsis.