As soon as the door to the bathroom closed behind Zor, Ron went to the entrance and locked it. He transferred the briefcase to his desk, booted up his terminal and searched for the reflex booster model that lay on top. His eyes widened.
“Well, well…”
If Militech’s official price was two hundred grand, then it would go for at least double on the black market. Probably the same for the implants. The ripperdoc straightened up, impressed, and looked at the bathroom where the sound of running water was coming from. The contents of this briefcase added up to a small fortune.
The operating chair began to auto-disinfect. The harsh smell wafted through the room and Ron felt the same excited anticipation he experienced before every operation. The harder the operation, the stronger the feeling.
Zor emerged naked from the bathroom and, not waiting for any instructions, went to lie down on the chair. The manipulators came alive and, without any input from the ripperdoc, plugged into the right sockets and injected needles into the right veins.
“How long ago you take these out?” Ron leaned over the fresh scars on Zor’s shoulder, adjusting his optics to macro.
“Years ago.”
The ripperdoc’s eyebrows knit together almost imperceptibly. He stood still for a few seconds before closing his eyes and letting out a noiseless sigh.
“You’re gonna slowly conk out,” he said, pressing a few buttons on the console. “Then wake up practically a supersoldier. Whether of sound mind is yet to be determined. How thorough do you want the stitching? Don’t have a lot of time between implants—want to avoid scarring.”
Cyberpunk 2077: No Coincidence Page 203