The students of Adam Smasher were not terribly impressive to look at, if she were the judge of it. Then again, compared to the man who once tore her arm off as an afterthought, they would likely never measure up.

It had been a routine job for DangerGal Elite callsign 'Victoria', a simple matter of going in and eliminating a borg that was gunning for her client's life. They had already gotten sufficient evidence and a permit from the local police to take them down, preferably alive but dead being acceptable too. It was rather hard to kill a runaway samson frame that was after a squishy construction foreman's life. For most that was, you needed some fairly heavy artillery to take out a man made of metal and stronger than the strongest person could be.

She was that heavy artillery. She was what "Mama" called in when they needed a sledgehammer over a scalpel. She gave a private, invisible grin underneath her integrated helm. Michiko always gave a long-suffering sigh and huff over being called that, it never really got old.

Still, the job was going well enough. She had been deployed to go take out the runaway borg, and she had caught up to it in a parking garage. The hunt proceeded smoothly, she was forcing it to take damage to the joints, soon enough it would be unable to move fast enough to prevent a coup de grace. She loved the thrill of battle, she left home chasing that thrill afterall.

It was at that point the ceiling shattered, and a camouflaged dragoon crashed down upon the both of them. Grabbing both of them by the arms, and tearing them off. She had activated her sandevistan to get away, but the samson wasn't so lucky. It was torn apart, limb by limb, over the next few minutes. All the while, the retractable front-optic mount stared directly at her as she fled. Her job was done, the samson was destroyed, all it cost her was an arm.

As it turned out, that samson had killed the son of an Arasaka exec on his rampage. Adam Smasher had been deployed to rip it apart, and then rip apart any living relatives too. She was just unlucky enough to be next to it when he attacked. DangerGal had an agent assigned specifically to monitor the Butcher at all times after that job. It was too much of a risk for any of her squishier sisters.

She was callsign 'Victoria', the strongest of the DangerGal elites, and she had been crippled as an afterthought. Her pride had roared at that. Her pride had not stopped roaring at that.

The roar had gotten more and more quiet over time, not from the incident, but rather with the context of who had done such to her. The more the dossier on Adam Smasher filled, the quieter that roar had gotten. Now it was a dull rumble, always present but not too distracting, like an idling engine.

To be a legend in Night City, you had to die. That was the rule for the cyberpunk. Burn bright and fast and die brutal and fast. If you die in a good enough way, you become a legend, and that old granny over at Afterlife started selling a drink with your name. That rule had only ever been broken by two people, Morgan Blackhand and Adam Smasher. No, no one else was in that category, no matter what dumbasses say about the piper, spinster, or grand-uncle.

Morgan Blackhand was, in many ways, the founder of the modern mercenary. The ideal and standard by which merc and hired guns were measured, even years after his disappearance. She said he had disappeared, because no one was sure if he was actually dead. His body was never found after all. The man who delivered the third dose of sunshine in a can to the Japanese. He was a legend for a reason.

Adam Smasher was a legend for entirely different reasons. There was a reason most legends end up dying fast, that reason was usually Adam Smasher. The man who started his merc career around the same time that Blackhand did, that so many other legends did. The man who outlived them all, his career still going strong almost a century later. The man who had a seemingly endless tolerance for chrome.

The man who could live in a dragoon frame like a normal person lives in their skin

Adam Smasher was the laughing metal reaper at the end of someone else's story. His legend was written in the blood of a hundred other legends.

She had survived her last encounter with him, all it cost her was her arm. It infuriated her that that was all she could say. She was DangerGal Elite callsign Victoria, she was what they called in when they needed something destroyed. The next time they met, she intended to be on equal footing. She didn't lose last time, she just withdrew. She didn't intend to ever lose, she was 'Victoria'. She wasn't about to feed another predator's legend.

She had been sharpening her claws ever since, on the bodies of those that mama called her out to break. Little prey interested her none, her sisters could handle them, she would only improve against larger, tougher targets. Idly, she wondered if that meant she was hunting turtles. Turtles wouldn't do her any good, she needed crocodiles to skin.

The Butcher's change in behavior had surprised all of them. Callsign 'Rachel' nearly had a heart attack when she noticed the immense and overnight changes, and had been a worried wreck ever since.

The monster that tore her arm off in an instant basically adopted a bunch of kids. They had to be special, right?

Looking at them listening to what Callsign 'Sierra' was saying from her perch, all she could feel was boredom.

The boy was the most interesting of the bunch, in that he had a decent talent for handling chrome, better than most squishies. He wasn't handling as much as she was, let alone his mentor. He had to use suppressants to handle that boondoggle a few months ago. He was good for a kid, but that was about it. She wasn't particularly impressed. She labeled him 'dog', not really a predator, too domestic for that, but he had some fangs on him.

The girl was apparently a fairly good netrunner with some super net-diving unit in her brain, but that didn't help someone stop bullets, so it was ultimately not that important. Her combat skills were laughable, and her chrome was middling. Basically a civvie still, she was even less impressed. She labeled her 'housecat', there was potential there, but she was too timid too matter right now.

The other girl wasn't anything special at all. Just some former mox girl with chemskin and some big guns on her hips. Time to kill, less than half a minute. Basically a civvie still, still not impressed. She labeled her 'mouse', tiny and basically not a threat unless you sat still and let her bite you. Rat would be impolite, so she would refrain.

The woman was an outright civvie, only a few weeks of on and off training, and a career of being an EMT before that. She came back from the dead, which was neat she supposed, but otherwise unremarkable for a zombie. Callsign 'Romeo' would probably go on about her 'fuckable hips', but she had long since learned to ignore her perverse ramblings. 'Zombie' was good enough for now.

The Butcher had another under his employ, a poser 'Victoria', who was still mostly meat. She had intended to go challenge her, but the cowardly meatwoman had gotten pregnant as a way to get out of having to fight. That was fine, she could just wait until she couldn't hide behind a baby anymore. Then she could issue the challenge and either win directly or prove that the meatwoman was a coward who backed down from challenges.

There was only room for one true Victoria in Night City, she would make the meatwoman change her name after winning. Her name would be poser legally as well as in actuality after that. It would be good to finally set the record straight again for that.

Then, she would get back to sharpening her claws. She intended to set the record straight with the Butcher, she wasn't a lesser, she was an equal. She was Victoria, and she hadn't lost yet.

The match would have to be non-fatal, of course, mama needed another Beau, and she had been pulling herself out of her slump ever since she updated the Butcher's profile. They had been lovers once, apparently, so it would work fine and mama could stop being so mopey all the time. She had been acting like callsign Sierra for a few years now, all mopey and depressive, it was getting annoying.

She let her thoughts idle in tune to the rumble of her pride, and watched Sierra talk to the guests behind a leonine faceplate. Lounging off to the side, waiting for her next hunt.

It had been a few days, her claws were getting dry.

—

Kagekaze had a small gift for his temporary students, it should help protect them from getting ambushed, a most important facet of staying alive long enough to learn more. He had joined them in his student's old quarters and brought with him four boxes stacked up in his arms. They were at the central dining table, and the boxes were set there.

He had told them to grab their most reliable firearms, the guns they intended to always have with them if possible. Martinez-san had brought out his shotgun, a more recent acquisition from what he had heard, a Militech Standard Military Shotgun. Twelve gauge, eight round magazine, folding stock. A reliable weapon for all the needs that a shotgun is used to fulfill.

Martinez-san, the mother, had brought her personal sidearm. A Techtronica-15 with an under barrel extra battery pack. It made sense that she would pick such, she was unused to combat and such a weapon would allow her to contribute still. A weapon that was useful at all but the highest levels of combat, a realm that she was unlikely to ever enter.

Kushinada-san had also brought her sidearm, a Constitutional Arms Unity handgun. A simple, robust, inexpensive handgun. It fired a common round, it was reliable with minimum maintenance. It fired decently fast enough, and was decently high caliber. It was a weapon that basically everyone could use. She was still not comfortable with combat, even after all this time, and her chosen weapon reflected this.

Rebecca-san had brought her primary arm, an Arasaka WAA Bullpup Assault rifle. It seemed that with the excess of firepower that she typically mounted upon her hips, she elected to go with a weaker but much faster firing weapon. Considering it again, he supposed the hip-mounted cyborg rifles were her actual primary arm, and the gun she had presented was more of a sidearm for faster shooting. It too was compatible with smartgun chips, so it was understandable that she would use that model. The integral optical sight would help this purpose as well.

Regardless, they had made their choices, so he began the lesson.

"Each of you, please take a box, and remove its contents."

They soon got to doing just that, curious mumbles and hums as they did so. Inside each of the boxes was the same thing. A specialized universal-locking scope-mount, containing a micro-computer, an integrated radar/sonar system, a wireless internal agent link, a speaker/microphone, and a holographic scope-screen. This was a popular device over in Nihon, and the utility was well known, but it was a recently developed technology and they were not being sold outside of the country yet. He had to special order them.

"Fancy scopes?" Martinez-san asked, turning it over in his hands curiously.

"Go ahead and attach them to your chosen firearms, their mounts should be universally applicable. Afterwhich, press the button near the top, just before the screen."

They did so, after a bit of struggling with it, and the holographic screens popped up with two options. 'Koyo' and 'Aidoru'.

"These scopes are known as Segatari AI-Doru Shoujun, or the Segatari AI-Dol Gun Scopes, they contain five components, a microcomputer, a sensor array, a wireless link, a speaker/microphone, and a projector scope screen. They are intended to serve as Artificial Intelligence aids, using their sensor array to detect potential danger and warn the verified user through their internal agent."

"Wait, these things put an AI in our guns?" Rebecca-san spoke out excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. Mah mah, how cute. He used body language to signal the impression of an amused smile her way.

"Learning AI specifically, designed to start as a blank slate but slowly learn your habits and adapt to be a more efficient aid." He raised a skeletal hand. "Please make no mistake though, they have very limited scope in what they can do. All they can do is attempt to detect movement around you, and warn you of it. It's a useful tool to prevent being struck from behind, but projectiles are much too fast for them to notice in time to warn the user."

He tilted his head. "Well, they can also use their sensory array to deep-scan themselves and relay what components are damaged, but that's an out of combat utility."

Kushinada-san spoke up warily at that. Ah, she had bad experiences with AI in the past, didn't she? Hopefully this would help her overcome that fear in a safe and controlled manner. "If that's all they do, then why is it a learning AI?"

He chuckled, and rubbed the back of his head. This would help assuage her fears, if he was acting so casual about it. "That's because of their intended marketing. I believe it's common amongst the youth to maintain imaginary relationships with fictional characters, correct? These Scopes have a useful tactical effect, but they are intended to be…" He paused to make sure he got the word right. "...'Waifus, I believe the term is."

There was a deadpan from Kushinada-san at that, and grins starting to grow on others. Kushinada-san continued. "They put learning AI on guns for that?"

He gave the impression of a smile and head tilt. "Yes. Now, if you would all press one of the two choices, and proceed with system setup. 'Koyo' is the option for pure utility, for no personality. 'Aidoru' is the option for a personality."

"I'm picking Koyo." Kushinada-san immediately replied in a dull tone, only to be stopped by Martinez-san's finger on her hand. He smiled at her teasingly. Rebecca-san leaned in and coyly spoke. "You know you have to do it, Lucy. It's the only way."

"This is silly." She retorted, only to be immediately countered by Rebecca-san.

"It would be funny though!"

Her hand was squeezed by a smiling Martinez-san, and she groaned in defeat. "Fine."

All four of them pressed the 'Aidoru' option, and the micro-computer connected to their Internal agents to confirm users. Once that was done, the set-up told them to set the weapons down and not touch them for a while. The sensory system was currently making a 3-D model of the gun and comparing that to a large database of weaponry, then installing the pre-programmed personality seed as appropriate to the weapon model and modifications added to it.

He himself didn't have a use for such a thing, his own sensor array being more powerful than the one that came installed in the scope. That, and he typically carried no external weapons, doing so would compromise his stealth systems. His body contained all the weaponry he needed for the vast majority of missions.

Still, it might help them avoid potential harm from ambush, and the scopes were inexpensive enough to matter little to him. Of course, the primary reason he got gear that helped them avoid ambush was not because of outside dangers. With little Michiko snubbing Jugemu so publicly, and accepting them under her influence, there was a high chance for retribution from internal agents aligned to Jugemu.

Soon enough, little cartoon females appeared in the holographic screens on the scope and started saying hellos to their owners in slightly synthesized tones, their language being chosen during set-up. All of them were in perhaps more scandalous attire than what was really appropriate, but otherwise held resemblances to the firearms they were attached to.

Little gun-kami brought to awareness, technology was truly a wonderful thing.

While they busied themselves with entertaining little amused conversations with the cartoon women on the screens, Kagekaze received a notice from Maria-chan.

Idly, he pulled it up in his line of sight to see what it was.

He froze, and raced out of the room as fast as he could, leaving behind his confused temporary students.

It was an event he hadn't foreseen, but was disastrous in consequence if not immediately corrected.

The message was brief, and frantic.

"Battlegroup Yurei has gone rogue, and has disappeared with Project Yokai."