Vik's idea of a basic checkup was exactly that—basic.
A quick examination with a handheld scanner, shining a small light into Leo's eyes, mouth, and ears. Nothing more than the standard routine, except for one particular detail.
When Vik carefully checked behind Leo's ears and scanned his wrists, a flash of genuine surprise crossed his face.
"Holy… shit."
The usually calm and composed ripperdoc was visibly shaken.
"I've met folks without implants before, sure. But you? No neural link. No personal terminal. Not even a basic health monitor. Aside from monks, you're the first true 'natural' I've ever seen."
"Is that a problem?"
Vik squinted, rubbing his chin. "Not a problem, just… rare. Real rare."
He shook his head, still processing the discovery. "And you're not dirt poor. Your skin's clean, teeth are perfect, and not a single sign of nutrient deficiency. But you're a complete natural. Makes you kinda unique."
"Uh, thanks?" Leo said, unsure how to respond.
"People from your side of the world… they hand out basic implants like candy," Vik continued. "Kids get their first neural links before they even hit double digits. Free upgrades till adulthood. And yet here you are… a goddamn unicorn."
Leo forced a smile. "Guess I'm just old-fashioned."
"Or a stubborn idealist," Vik quipped. "But hey, none of my business. Doctor's oath—I don't pry where I don't need to."
Turning to his monitor, he swiftly accessed a secured network. Leo caught a glimpse of an official-looking database, undoubtedly connected to the city's public records.
"Let's verify your ID. Standard procedure."
Within seconds, Leo's newly fabricated profile popped up.
"Leonardo DiCaprio," Vik read aloud, smirking. "Looks clean. Capital city background. Guess that explains the pretty face."
"I look like a millionaire in these rags?" Leo chuckled, tugging at his stained shirt.
"You might be wearing a dumpster, but your face? High-quality genetics. Trust me, I see people in here who patch themselves up just to look half as good. No dermal implants, no filter jobs… just good ol' DNA."
Vik leaned closer, inspecting Leo with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"Tell me, real organic food. It actually taste as good as they say?"
"Wouldn't know," Leo replied with a shrug. "Too expensive for me."
"No shit? Organic… too expensive?" Vik grinned, shaking his head. "Well, that's Night City for ya. Regular folks can't even dream of eating anything that wasn't grown in a vat."
"Anyway, back to business."
Vik tapped on the screen. "Technically, your profile checks out. No red flags. But you're still a natural, which means I've got zero biometric data on you."
"What's that mean?"
"Means I can't just slap some high-grade cyberware into you without knowing how your body will react. You might reject the implants. Could end up in a coma, or worse."
Leo swallowed hard. "So what now?"
"We start slow. Neural link. Personal terminal. Basic ocular upgrades with bio-monitors. Give it a few days. Once we've got some data, we'll talk upgrades."
"Sounds reasonable. Let's do it."
"That's the spirit."
Vik printed out a physical consent form, a laughably old-school touch for a ripperdoc.
"Before we get started, we need a full medical scan and a blood test. Nothing invasive. Just a quick read on your current vitals."
Leo nodded. "Whatever you need."
"Good."
The ripperdoc picked up a sleek, needleless blood extractor, resembling a futuristic handheld device.
"Arm, please."
Leo rolled up his sleeve. A quick press, and the machine whirred softly. Barely any pain.
"Done. Results in fifteen minutes."
"Efficient."
"While we wait…" Vik's gaze lingered on Leo's outfit, his lips twitching into a faint grin. "That getup's gotta go. You look like someone robbed a vagrant and lost the fight."
Leo scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, about that… I'm technically loaded. But without a neural link, I can't access my eddies."
Vik laughed, a genuine belly laugh. "Jesus. You're the richest poor guy I've ever met."
Still chuckling, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a few paper bills.
"Here. 200 Eurodollars."
"Vik, I can't—"
"Relax, kid. Call it a goodwill loan. You're not getting arrested looking like that on my watch."
Leo accepted the cash, feeling a twinge of gratitude.
"There's a secondhand store just past Misty's. Run by a lady with… character. You'll see. Go grab yourself something decent."
"You're a saint, Vik."
"Saint Vik," he mused. "I like the sound of that. Now get outta here before I change my mind."
Stepping out into the night air, Leo squinted as neon lights reflected off the damp pavement. A few steps later, Misty gave him a curious glance.
"Back so soon?"
"Vik sent me on a fashion quest."
"Oh," she laughed softly. "Good luck."
Following Vik's directions, Leo found the secondhand shop. A flickering LED sign read "Second Chance Threads."
The moment he stepped inside, the heavy scent of leather and fabric softener filled his nose. Behind the counter, a tall, curvaceous Black woman in her thirties flashed a grin.
"Well, well! Where'd you come from, honey? Haven't seen a face like that around Watson in a long time."
Leo awkwardly smiled. "Vik sent me. I need some clothes."
"Vik? Oh, baby, you mean that silver fox ripperdoc? You his secret love child?" She burst into laughter. "Nah, no way. He's not that lucky."
Leo could only grin sheepishly.
"Clothes are in the back," she said, pointing lazily. "No cameras in the fitting room—unless you want me to install one. I'll give you a discount if you model for me."
"Uh… I think I'm good."
She roared with laughter, thoroughly entertained.
"Go on, sweetheart. And take your time."
Leo, red-faced, made a beeline for the racks, hoping to find something—anything—that would help him blend in.
Welcome to Night City.
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