Cyberpunk: XYZ

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Chapter 38: Mark of Territory I

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X didn't halt for even a second, heading directly to his apartment, and taking a long shower before passing out... It was a very productive day.

It was a tiresome day, but in the end, X succeeded in whatever he had set out to do, one of which was spreading the word.

It's difficult to find someone in Japantown who hasn't heard of X's Clinic, and the word is even spreading to the entirety of Westbrook.

The traffic of The Clinic's site was ludicrously high, to the point that it crashed at some point.

That's likely due to the numerous people applying for free services.

It worked out well as the very next day, the Clinic welcomed an unusually high traffic of clients, something Chiyo wasn't used to.

Now, all X needed to do was elevate his reputation and establish his name as the best Ripperdoc of Japandown, then slowly rise from there.

The goal is to attract high-quality clients, of which there are plenty in Japantown.

In the course of the next week, several big clients stepped into his clinic.

For example, just a day ago, a former corporate security officer staggered in, her arms covered in faint green lines that pulse under her skin.

She explained that her veins were infused with "combat drugs" and self-releasing toxins by her corpo employer.

Now, years later, the system has malfunctioned, releasing minute doses of neurotoxin at random, leaving her in near-constant agony.

When X scanned her, he found her blood laced with a toxic cocktail intended to kill an intruder on contact.

But as her veins corrode, the poison leaked into her bloodstream, leaving her wracked with seizures, migraines, and numbness in her limbs.

To save her, X had to carefully extract and neutralize the venomous implants that line her arteries, balancing the risk of spreading toxins with the chance of a fatal reaction.

One wrong move and the toxins could flood her system, turning her own blood against her in seconds.

It was a dangerous process that would normally be taken care of by the corporation's doctors.

However, she was let go, and now no longer has that luxury.

It's safe to say that all of the improvements and programs X implemented were a success, beyond what Chiyo expected.

Business was booming. People were happy, especially the poor, looking forward to every Monday in case they got chosen... So why.

"Why?" X asked.

"Probably some street kid," Chiyo responded, "I don't think it will stop happening."

The two were standing before the walls of the clinic, walls that are supposed to be now squeaky clean... So why were they filled with subpar graffiti?

"Take over the clinic today. If there is anything of interest happening, contact me," X instructed, eyeing Chiyo step inside before turning his attention to the walls.

X stared at the garish scrawl splattered across what had been a pristine wall only days before.

The fresh coat of paint he'd applied was now overrun with lurid, neon tags: symbols, gang logos, and a crude depiction of a Tyger claw slashing through his clinic's name.

The sight pulled a grimace from his face; he'd worked hard to make this place stand out, to bring some eyes to Japantown's most pristine clinic.

X blinked as he laid eyes on the camera that was supposed to be suspended high above the door... It was broken.

Whoever did this must be very used to such things, remaining hidden. The recording that reached him before the camera broke also didn't show much because the perpetrator was in disguise.

Taking a slow breath, he knelt down, studying the lines and strokes with a practiced eye.

He'd seen this style before; it had a distinct roughness, like the work of someone tagging fast, with little care for detail.

Street punks, maybe some junior enforcers from one of the local gangs trying to make a name.

Tyger Claws? No, the symbol didn't have their usual sharp precision.

This wasn't the work of a seasoned street artist or even a gang member making a statement.

It was messy, fast, and brazen. Someone had tagged his clinic on purpose, and he intended to find out who.

Back in his home, X set up his cyberdeck, something he thought he'd first use for a Netrunning job.

Now, he was stuck tracing a troublemaker. The cyberdeck was old gen, not something you have installed to your neural network.

Even though it's old gen, one of excellent quality still cost X about a grand. It's what most Netrunners start with as it is the cheaper option.

X booted up his cyberdeck and jacked into his network, weaving through layers of surveillance feeds he'd quietly patched into.

He'd set up an intricate web of connections with nearby cameras, some legal, some… borrowed, pulling feeds from the surrounding blocks.

With a few strokes, he narrowed his search to the timestamped footage from last night and rewound until he saw movement outside the clinic door.

A slim figure wearing a hood and a mask, moving with nervous energy; crept into view, spray can in hand.

They hesitated, glancing over their shoulder before letting loose on the wall... Amateur.

Zooming in, X could make out a bright yellow logo on the back of the figure's hoodie; distinct, an odd mix of kanji and stylized flames.

He ran the symbol through a few gang databases he'd built over time but came up blank; it was more likely the mark of a small-time local crew or wannabe street artists trying to make a name.

He set the footage aside and moved to his next step.

Calling in a favor from one of the street vendors near the alleyway, he accessed data from a hacked vending machine positioned within view of his clinic.

Most people didn't know, but the machines kept logs of every sale and even had rudimentary security footage to identify potential shoplifters.

The security gave him clearer footage, but certainly not enough to directly determine the target.

Indirectly, however, shouldn't be too hard. X summarized the target's appearance, mostly clothes and mannerisms, height, and weight.

X made some calls, lots of calls. Every stall owner he made friends with, he called and told them of the situation and discreetly ask customers about the clinic, just to fish for odd answers.

Most importantly, he sent them the information he had about the perpetrator and offered a reward for their help.

X then walked out while waiting for a call. He wasn't just about to waste time waiting.

He walked to the cheery blossom market right as it started raining. He had worn a coat but brought no umbrella.

He didn't bother going back but just stood at one of the entrances to the market.

Some stalls on this side have direct sight to the clinic. X wanted to see if the perpetrator would go back to the scene, can he resist the urge?

X walked around the market, scrutinizing every area that has a line of sight to the clinic.

He walked up a staircase by the corner, going upstairs to the walkways above.

He leaned on the low wall, and watched from above, for minutes and minutes, scanning everyone going about with his cyber eye.

The minutes turned to hours til something ticked X's line of sight, his eyes narrowing as he stood straight.