Pink Wolf suddenly stood, her movements sharp and decisive. Before Dex could react, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him to his feet with surprising strength for someone so small.
She stared up at him, her gold cybernetic eye glinting, lips pressed into a stubborn pout. The memory of him once calling her a "twelve-year-old kid" flashed in her mind, making her cheeks flush. (She was eighteen, damn it!)
"Alright, enough doom and gloom," she declared, turning to Spectre. "We're taking today off. Let's show this idiot around Neo-Tokyo—since he's probably never even seen the server properly."
Spectre hesitated, arms crossed. "Valentina's been quiet since the ambush, but—"
"But nothing," Pink Wolf interrupted. "Dex has that creepy mask now. And let's be real—if she does show up?" She grinned, flexing her new cybernetic claws. "I wanna test these babies out."
Spectre sighed but finally nodded. "Fine. But we're not getting sidetracked."
Pink Wolf beamed—then, to Dex's surprise, she locked her arm with his, pressing close.
Too close.
Her body was warm against his side, her grip firm. And for some reason, every time she looked at him now, her pulse kicked up.
Him.
The guy who'd saved her life—twice. The guy who'd gone from calling her a kid to becoming something… else. Something taller, stronger, with that damn silver hair and those glowing eyes—
She bit her lip, hard, stifling another traitorous sound.
No one could ever know.
No one could know that Pink Wolf, the neon-punk terror of Neo-Tokyo, had a type.
And that type was men who could dominate a room—and protect her in the next breath.
...
The trio stepped into the streets of Neo-Tokyo, the air buzzing with holographic ads and the hum of magnetic bikes. The city was a sensory overload—neon signs in kanji, street vendors selling virtual skewers, and players dueling in augmented reality rings.
Pink Wolf tugged Dex toward a massive arcade, its entrance a tunnel of strobing lasers.
"First stop," she announced. "You gotta try the rhythm fighters here. Loser buys ramen."
Spectre rolled her eyes but followed, her fingers twitching like she was mentally cataloging every exit, every threat.
Dex, meanwhile, couldn't help but smirk.
This wasn't the day off he'd expected.
But with Pink Wolf's arm still hooked in his, her breath warm against his shoulder—
—he wasn't complaining.
As they stepped into the arcade's neon-lit chaos, Dex couldn't resist. He activated Omnisight, scanning Pink Wolf with a flick of his gaze.
Her stats flared to life in his vision:
[PINK WOLF – LEVEL 21]
[CLASS: NEON PREDATOR]
[SKILLS:]
「INSTANT FIX」 – Repairs any cybernetic weapon/tool in seconds.
「WOLF'S FEROCITY」 – Sharpens all senses, doubles attack speed for 30s. (Cooldown: 5min)
「PACK HUNTER」 – *Marks a target; allies deal +20% damage to them for 60s.*
「CLAW OVERDRIVE」 – *Vibro-claws ignore 50% armor and inflict [Bleeding] for 10s.*
Dex raised a brow. Last he checked, she was Level 15. Now? She'd not only caught up but surpassed most mid-tier players.
Impressive.
Pink Wolf caught him staring and smirked. "See something you like?"
Dex smirked back. "Just admiring your cute looks."
She rolled her eyes—but her cheeks pinkened.
Spectre, meanwhile, was already at a rhythm-fighter cabinet, slapping the start button.
"Loser buys dinner," she called, cracking her knuckles.
Pink Wolf's claws slid out with a shink. "Oh, you're on."
Dex leaned against a nearby pillar, watching as the two dove into the game, their avatars flipping across the screen in sync with the pulsing beat.
The arcade's lights painted them in streaks of electric blue and hot pink.
For the first time in weeks, things felt…
Normal.
Dex flexed his fingers, staring at his arms.
Wait.
His cybernetic augmentation—the one he'd installed back when he was just a low-level grinder—was gone. His arms were fully human again, the reinforced plating and embedded tech vanished without a trace. Even his Rocket Fist skill had disappeared from his inventory.
Must've been overwritten during the gene evolution.
He shrugged. No matter.
A ping from his system pulled his attention.
[KAI (VOID LORD): "Congrats on picking the evil path, lol. Meeting tomorrow. Liora's place. Elven server. Don't be late."]
Dex exhaled through his nose.
[DEX: "I'll be there."]
He closed the chat and shut his eyes, reaching out with Cyber Hack. Instantly, his consciousness bled into the arcade's network—security cameras, drones, even the flickering holographic ads became his eyes.
And then he saw it.
A figure in black, sitting at a café booth just outside the arcade. They pretended to sip a drink, but their gaze kept flicking toward Dex's group.
Got you.
Without a word, Dex dissolved into pixels, his body scattering into the nearest vending machine.
A blink later, he rematerialized behind the stranger, stepping soundlessly out of a music box on the café's counter.
The man didn't even sense him.
Dex leaned in, his voice a whisper.
"Enjoying the show?"
The stranger jerked, spinning, only to freeze as Dex's Data Dagger pressed against their throat.
The Origin Mask materialized over Dex's face, its hollow gaze boring into the spy's soul.
"Now" He mutters, "Lets talk."