Chapter 73:

Training

Cyberpunk: Dogtown Legend

Chapter update is here.

Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥

✦

Cat answered the next day with a simple file packet and a warning long enough to feel like a contract.

[Message]

Cat: Basic diagnosis complete. The chip is damaged but readable. Whoever extracted it did not care about clean removal.

Rook: The previous owner was not in a condition to complain.

Cat: I noticed.

Cat: Local mode can run a single-user weapon test and simple enemy behavior. Multi-user training needs the remote environment I mentioned. Start with weapon calibration. No live rounds unless the system asks for confirmation.

Rook: Understood.

Cat: I mean that literally. Do not let your people treat the chip like a game.

Cade looked across the training hall.

Rebecca was already holding Guts.

"Everyone stop," Cade said.

That made most of the crew stop. Rebecca stopped only after Dorio reached over and put a hand on the shotgun.

"What?"

Cade held up the chip. "We're starting small. One weapon test. No one fires unless the system says to fire."

Rebecca's eyes brightened. "Shotgun test?"

"No."

"Shotgun test."

"Rebecca."

She hugged Guts tighter. "I'm the best shot here."

Pilar snorted. "Best at making walls nervous."

Guts shifted in Rebecca's grip with a heavy metallic clack. "Say that closer."

Dorio pinched the bridge of her nose. "We are not blowing up the new base on day two."

Maine crossed his arms. "Let her run it. Better we learn where the limit is."

Cade wanted to refuse. Then he glanced at the chip again.

The point of training was to expose problems in controlled conditions. Rebecca's weapon was exactly the sort of problem that needed a controlled space.

"Fine," he said. "But everyone steps back."

The crew retreated behind the safety line. Cade linked the chip into the training terminal Cat had helped him configure for local mode. The system took nearly thirty seconds to wake.

[Weapon Training]

Please calibrate your weapon. Detecting...

Tech Shotgun confirmed.

Please empty all rounds from the magazine and confirm there is no possibility of discharge. The simulation module will continue monitoring...

Rebecca stared at the prompt. "It thinks Guts has a magazine."

"Just unload it," Cade said.

"I know how my gun works."

"Then prove it in a way that doesn't put a hole through the wall."

Rebecca rolled her eyes but cleared the weapon. Dorio checked it. Cade checked it again.

[Weapon Training]

Safety confirmation accepted.

Please aim at the marked target.

A red holographic target appeared downrange. Rebecca planted her feet, raised Guts, and leaned into the weight with a grin.

"Ready?"

"The system hasn't told you to fire," Cade said.

"It's a target."

"Rebecca."

[Weapon Training]

Please attempt to fire.

She fired.

The system had been expecting an empty weapon and a dry trigger.

Guts disagreed.

The shotgun roared like an industrial accident. The recoil drove Rebecca back half a step, the blast tore through the holographic marker, and the far wall erupted in dust where a live round punched into the reinforced plating.

For one breath, everyone froze.

Then Pilar burst out laughing.

"You said empty!"

Rebecca looked down at Guts, then at the hole in the wall. "It was mostly empty."

Dorio rounded on her. "Mostly?"

"One shell stuck in the feed. Not my fault."

Cade stared at the impact mark and decided not to ask how many layers of safety had just failed. Cat's warning suddenly felt less like caution and more like prophecy.

Maine laughed once, deep and rough. "Good test."

"It was a terrible test," Dorio snapped.

"But now we know the wall holds."

Cade exhaled slowly. "Training rule one: no one touches a weapon inside the system until Dorio clears it and I clear it."

Rebecca lifted a hand. "What if I clear it?"

"Especially then."

"Rude."

The rest of the morning went better only because it was almost impossible to go worse. They started with grip, stance, and movement. The simulation chip projected basic targets, tracked muzzle position, and generated simple response scores.

Rebecca adapted fastest. She treated every prompt like a dare. Her shooting was aggressive, almost reckless, but she had instincts that turned chaos into accuracy.

Dorio was less flashy and more consistent. She corrected stance, controlled breathing, and understood how to keep the team alive around cover.

Maine's raw firepower was excellent. His problem was rhythm. He pushed forward when he should have waited and trusted his chrome to solve positioning mistakes.

Pilar treated the first hour like a joke.

Then the scoring system displayed his accuracy in front of everyone.

[Weapon Training]

Pilar: 27% hit rate.

Rebecca laughed so hard she had to lean on Guts.

Pilar's face darkened. "Run it again."

"There it is," Cade murmured.

Dorio heard him. "What?"

"Pride. We can use it."

By afternoon, the crew had stopped treating the system like a toy. They still cursed at it, mocked it, and argued with it, but they listened when the feedback repeated the same weakness enough times.

Cat sent a remote diagnostic during a break.

[Message]

Cat: Local module is stable. Your damage model is still crude.

Rook: We are alive. That qualifies as stable.

Cat: Barely.

Rook: How long for multi-user?

Cat: If you can provide server capacity, I can attempt a closed room by tonight. Do not expect miracles.

Rook: I expect fewer real bullet holes.

Cat: That depends on your people.

Cade looked at Rebecca, who was carefully pretending she had not been the source of the new crater in the far wall.

"We have a lot to fix," he said.

Maine flexed the hand fitted with the Projectile Launch System. "Good. Means we won't get bored."