Let’s say, for instance, there’s a whole pack of big nasty xenos lookin’ to tear me a structurally superfluous behind. What am I gonna do in that particular conundrum?

  Use a gun, right? And if that don’t work?

  Then use a weirder gun.

  - Samurai Y’all’d’t’ve, 2049

  My journey back to my Charon was uneventful, if tedious in the pursuit of caution. My bike was almost exactly as I’d left it, save for a new layer of dirt thinly covering the pitch black sides. Its state was a relief, not out of worry for the bike itself, but because I had half expected a pile of bodies when I got back with how Cal had ominously boasted about the security features.

  I booked a hotel room in the undercity, making sure to do enough research to find whatever decent ones actually existed down here. The place I settled on sat right at the border of the underground’s entrance, which meant it had a lot more actual monitoring from the upper brass. Keep all those filthy plebians out of their equally filthy top half and all that. My room was actually inarguably nice for once, everything clean and pretty and organized in what must have been some feng shui I didn’t understand, to the point where I genuinely wouldn’t mind spending a few days there.

  I was currently kicking my feet off the side of the bed, lazing on the fresh-smelling linens while I ruminated on all the nothing that my little hunt had found. “Well, that was a bust.”

  With all due respect, you did choose to manually scope out the place without the use of any drones.

  “And like I’ve said, whatever Sam’ Scurvy initially asked probably already did a pretty thorough check of it with some surveillance tech. That doesn’t seem like an oversight she’d make.”

  And yet Scurvy chose you for this.

  “Because of her gut, yes.” I leaned back, and a question hit my mind. “Who do you think Scurvy had check the place out before me, anyways?”

  Hard to say. Equal chance it was either someone from her own personal circle, or a local Samurai who was more readily available before the trail went cold.

  “The trail's probably pretty frigid at this point, so a load of good that must’ve done.”

  My hand combed through my hair, and a scowl grew on my face. Failure was an emotion I was acquainted with, but to say it didn’t sting would be incorrect. “Ugh, I’m still pissed by all this.”

  May I suggest some retail therapy to ease your nerves, then?

  Usually, I wouldn’t indulge. This was obviously Cal trying to pedal something I could hold off on. Capitalizing on a moment of weakness when in most cases I’d be more prone to duct tape something back together rather than replace it outright. Unfortunately for me, as indicated by a frustrated grumble and a sigh of defeat, his strategy was working. “Go nuts.”

  In that case, I’d like to begin by posing to you a question: what was a major weakness you encountered in your fight with Scurvy?

  A layered question. The most simple answer would be something to the effect of “Scurvy was a Tier Four Samurai and thoroughly outclassed me”, but I knew that wasn’t the answer that Cal was looking for. I had a hunch as to why this topic came up at least: if I were to find out who this mystery Samurai was, there was a solid chance I would be fighting them at some point.

  I lost myself in thought at the conundrum, replaying the fight in my head. What was the part I found most frustrating? It certainly wasn’t the trash-talking; thick skin, both figurative and literal, was a requirement in this day and age and I’d definitely heard worse in the ring. Power, then? No, that also didn’t feel right. Even if I did have my Newtons when we fought, something tells me the result would have been the same. That leaves…

  “Speed,” I stated. “What made those slugs of hers so oppressive was that there was power and speed behind them. My own experience alongside Sagesight let me evade to some extent, but there was simply too little gap for me to exploit. The hits I landed being ineffective was a moot point; Scurvy wouldn’t have allowed anything substantial to sneak through.”

  And the last exchange? The one where you tried to throw off her center of balance.

  “That…may have been the only point where I actually got one over on her.” While it still ended in that smug ass grin that was burned into my brain before the headbutt, the looks that came before were ones of genuine confusion and surprise. “Only in that moment did I make speed a non-factor through the grapple, but I also became subject to her overwhelming power. Really aside from the first few hits she could have stopped it at any point.”

  If there was a sound that could indicate a smile, it came through in Cal’s reply.

  Precisely what I was thinking. Now, the question becomes the following: how would you try and rectify this weakness?

  Not an easy thing to answer, but my brain had gained a good amount of momentum at this point. “Either invest in a way to better exploit the openings I get, or find a way to expand my possible openings, to the point where someone can't cover them all. For the former you probably have some tech to speed me up, but the latter…don't know what that would mean aside from giving myself like…extra arms or something.”

  Extra arms. What a novel proposition. Why didn't I think of that?

  I really wish Cal had a face so I could raise an eyebrow at it; I had left the skull drone in the bike and it would have served that purpose perfectly. “Cal, you're being cheeky. Just show me what you've got planned.”

  A wireframe appeared in my augs. At first I thought it was some sort of hard-angled backpack, but the entire model folded out from itself like a wicked paper craft and soon it had stretched into a quartet of arms extruding from the center.

  The Velocity Augmented Joint Reflex Armature would give access to two additional sets of arms, equivalent in structure to your current ones.

  “A gift from the Setet, I assume?”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  As in being a part of the Class II Hex Crusher Armaments Catalog, yes. In reality they would have no need for such a tool outside of use as a prosthetic, but the Protectors found it to be a fantastic basis for innovation. Adding onto this, each arm can be equipped with their own independent Newton Mark III and JAB assault module, resulting in a total set of six hand-to-hand weapons, accounting for your normal human arms.

  “Two questions,” I asked, raising the appropriate number of fingers. “How do I control it, and is it a permanent thing for me to use? ‘Cause I think you can guess my hangups if the latter is true.”

  Addressing the first, control is done through a neural control chip.

  “So like you?” I ended up blurting out.

  That would be like equating a glass half-full and the entire underwater planet of Hydross, as both contain water, but it's not entirely incorrect. As for the second point, both the neural implant and VAJRA itself were designed to be togglable and the latter can also be detached outright. Really, it's not dissimilar to a backpack of sorts.

  Vajra. Not a word I was familiar with. But knowing I wasn’t stuck with extra arms was nice. “Alright, what’s it gonna run me?”

  Seven hundred and twenty for the actual hardware, and then another two forty for the chip. The VAJRA is a noticeably more complex structure to control compared to your current prosthetics, so the chip has to sort of work as a translator for your brain to actually issue proper commands, alongside the ability to disable the function that you’ve requested.

  Expensive, as everything always was, but with decent reason. No real reason to fight it. “Sold.”

  Purchased: Mark III Partitioned Neural Implant x1 - 240 Points

  Point Total: 9248, 1 token

  Purchased: Velocity Augmented Joint Reflex Armature x1 - 720 Points

  Point Total: 8528, 1 token

  A solid black box with straps fell to the ground in front of me, but I didn’t get a chance to inspect it further as a wave of nausea hit me and my vision went fuzzy. If I wasn’t sitting on the bed at the moment, I was sure that I would have fallen and hit my head on something.

  I clenched my head and groaned. “Forgot about that…was it this bad last time?”

  I do indeed have testimony that most neural implants cause some level of cranial discomfort when being phased in, but you likely don’t remember the feeling the previous time because you were missing your forearms and were pinned under a building.

  I ended up rubbing my prosthetics, that memory still an unpleasant one.

  Once my vision came back I got off the bed and picked up the fancy new toy. What was attached to it wasn’t straps but a full harness meant to wrap around my entire torso. The actual machine itself was matte and angular in its current state, to the point where it became difficult to find the seams along its all-black surface. The only part that wasn’t that color was a small circular piece of silver metal near the top.

  Put on the harness, and make sure that the silver part is touching the upper vertebrae of your spine once it's secure. It’s integral to the interfacing of the chip.

  “And what if I’m too stupid to put on the harness?” I asked.

  Then I will look into enrolling you in more educational activities. I’m sure you would love fourth grade.

  I gave a snort. Cal’s faith in me didn’t have to be tested, as I quite easily strapped on the pack until each part was snug, but not oppressing. It rode up higher than expected, almost flush with my shoulders. I was worried it would throw off my center of balance, but I still felt remarkably stable.

  “Alright, I’m all in.”

  Brace yourself. Reports from other Samurai say the first time is just a tad uncomfortable.

  An electric buzz shot through my body, and I keeled over the bed once more as everything went tingly. My ears caught the sound of metal unfolding, but I was still in shock from the…shock. The fuzzy feeling dissipated a moment later, but not before I reflexively drummed my fingers.

  Thirty fingers answered.

  Four metal arms now sprouted from my back. Two above my shoulders, and two below. On unconscious command the four came forward in introduction and showed off the double date pairs of left hand and right hand to my face. They were somewhat similar to the prosthetics on my fleshy arms, and a passive thought into a clench of several new fists proved they moved just as fluidly. Just like my normal arms, but more of them.

  Words were hard to structure in my amazement, coming out first as a dopey chortle. “Hoh…this is wild.”

  Imagine how many games of rock-paper-scissors you could play all at the same time.

  “Cal, that’s–” My response was interrupted by three separate hands colliding with my head in an attempt at a facepalm. It was a chaotic display of errors, even if it didn’t end up hurting or anything. “Huh. That probably wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Your mind is still getting used to controlling the additional limbs. While it is likely to become more proficient over extended use, I’d instead recommend a session of Dream Learning focused on the VAJRA’s controls and features, as to reduce any possible issues in the future and to use the armature to its maximum potential.

  Wasn’t about to argue with that judgement. “Add it to the docket. I’ll have to run down to the Charon and get the equipment for it here in a bit. Actually, remind me to also drop off all of the trash I collected over the last month into the nearest dump. A lot of that can’t be recycled.”

  Max, make sure to drop off all of the–

  “Cal, I swear to god, I will find a way to tear that chip of yours out of my skull if you finish that sentence.”

  You yourself walked into that, Max.

  At that point I’d had enough of the VAJRA for now, so signalled for Cal to detach and watched as something clicked off in my head and the arms receded back into their little pack, once again turning into that solid black box it had initially started out as.

  “So, I figure that this is prep for the future,” I said, unclipping the harness and leaning the armature against the bed. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is this your suggestion?”

  A small bout of silence followed.

  …To be frank, there is still far too little we know about the opposing Samurai. While specialization is usually an inevitability of the Vanguard program, the exact number of manifestations each preferred style of combat can take sits quite literally in the trillions, and each requires equally exact counterplay. Hard-light structures can generally be weakened or nullified by particulate diffusion, but higher end ones can only be taken down by certain types. Both hacking and destruction could be the solution to a drone army, but it would be hard to know which is preferred until one had a chance to analyze the drones in action. Even melee fighters can have millions of different combat styles, weapons, and mindsets which complicate those types of fights. Focusing on how you can improve your own arsenal is far more often the better approach, and specific counter-measures can be devised in the heat of battle directly when there is more to work off of.

  That all made sense, and I found myself nodding along. Instead of trying to cover all possible options, it was better to think about what was right in front of you, and work with what you have.

  What was right in front of you…

  An errant thought hit my brain, and I opened up the list Scurvy had sent about Penelope. One that was full of mostly innocuous details and little tidbits that wriggled in the corners of the old pirate's brain. There was a solid chance that none of these were particularly relevant to today, but maybe…a clue was staring me right in the face.

  One word jumped out at me under this critical scan, and something clicked. Maybe I had been too focused on who ended up making Penelope disappear. Instead, I should try asking why she was taken.

  I asked a tentative question to my AI, as my eyes remained transfixed on the word ‘Botanist’.

  “Cal, does Phoenix have any major Antithesis research facilities?”