Cyberpunk: Ultimate Cyborg System-Chapter 90: Insufferable By Nature.

"... You’re kidding me, right?" Dante’s face fell as he pleaded for that to be the case.

Sitting behind his desk, Victor stared back at him with indifference. Going by how relaxed he looked, it appears he had enough sleep for once. Not that it helped with the dark circles under his eyes.

"Does it look like I’m messing around?"

The scowl on the youth’s face deepened.

"So let me get this straight. Some rich asshole’s son is hanging around the wrong crowd, and instead of talking to the little shit he came here looking for someone who would "handle" that crowd?"

After passing the last day wandering around with Boris, Dante was a little excited when the fixer contacted him about a new job. He knew he should’ve listened to the voice asking him to temper his expectations, and since he failed to do that, the disappointment hit him pretty hard.

"Yup. It’s exactly as you put it." Victor heaved a sigh and leaned back in his seat. "The client is Randal Simmons. He runs a small brewery that makes quality whiskey. The kind mid-level CEOs would brag about."

"Spare me the details. What I want to know is why you’re throwing this ridiculous request my way."

A mail notification popped up on Dante’s OAM as he spoke. It contained two files sent to him by the fixer, both being information sheets on the client and his son.

Randal Simmons looked like a man who let himself go, indulging in everything life had to offer until he ended up as a potential heart attack victim. His son, Derick Simmons, looked the exact opposite. His eyes were sharp and full of aggressive energy, and just by looking at his profile photo, Dante already felt pissed.

"Don’t you see it?" Victor smiled with the corner of his mouth.

"See what?"

"The resemblance. He’s practically you."

And just like that, a fire was started in the fixer’s office.

"The hell do you mean by that?"

"W-well, let’s not focus too much on that." Clearing his throat, Victor tried to cover his blunder. "The kid got a new bike recently, and he has been going downhill since then."

Derick was far from an exemplary child, but he hadn’t caused much trouble before, at least not until he entered high school. Something changed around that time: he started talking back to his father and being rude to everyone around him. His grades dropped, and the teachers sent back complaints about his behavior.

Thinking it was just a phase, Randal left him alone, but then the kid went and bought himself a bike the moment he turned sixteen. Ever since, it was only one bad news after the other.

"Randal asked us to look into it first, but when he heard the report he came back with another request." Victor sounded exasperated, showing that his thoughts on the matter weren’t so different. "As I’ve already told you, the kid has been hanging with some rats. His father wants them gone and is willing to pay, but we can all say that’s going too far."

"Oh yeah?"

Victor pressed his mouth into a line.

"Look, do you want the gig or not? All you have to do is get out there, beat some sense into a bunch of brats, and that’s it. You’ve been looking for more work, right? Well, here it is."

Dante’s mouth twitched into a smile.

"Alright, I’m gonna take care of this one, just because I have nothing better to do right now." Wiping it off his face, he glared at the fixer with such intensity his gaze almost pierced through him. "But next time, you better have something good for me. Something that actually pays."

Meeting his gaze without faltering, Victor kept his silence. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the surface of the desk, linking his fingers as he looked down in thought. Seconds later, he looked up and calmly said

"You know you’re getting 2000G from this gig alone, right?"

Opening his mouth to argue back, Dante realized that he didn’t have anything to say.

~[ ]~

[Dante, may I ask a question?]

’Go ahead...’

Dante gave a mental shrug as he stared at the shifting scenery in front of him.

[I have noticed that you were dissatisfied with the work Mr. Sokolov has provided you with.]

’No shit.’

[My question is, why is it that you feel this way about it? From what I understood, the task is relatively easy and the pay far exceeds the provided service.]

Clicking his tongue, Dante closed his eyes and let himself sink into the bench. His thoughts wandered for some time, and once they calmed down a little, he went back to the AI with an answer.

’You should know by now that I don’t like dealing with the wealthy brats.’

[Yes... yes I did.] Volcan replied. [Is there a specific reason for that?]

Dante remained silent for much longer than before, hinting that he didn’t want to answer, or that he struggled with finding one to begin with. He did have a reason, of course. It’s just that he had felt this way for so long that he forgot how to put it into words.

’I... well, they’re insufferable by nature...’ he said. ’They get everything handed to them all their lives and never struggle for anything, yet for some reason they still act as if they are better than everyone else.’

The worst thing about the elites is the little shits they spawn. They spend their lives sheltered from the reality of the world and let their egos inflate despite receiving their achievements on a golden platter.

’They’re the worst type of parasite.’ Dante thought. ’The kind who think they matter much more just because of the circumstances of their birth.’

It didn’t help that the last elite spawn he met was an idealistic idiot with a hero complex. With how things were progressing, Dante believed that similar idiots would start popping up more often going forward, which somehow made the already bleak future look even worse.

[...I see...]

Going by his tone, Dante guessed that the AI hadn’t fully grasped what he was trying to say, even though he had been more than clear from the beginning. He wasn’t going to elaborate any further, though. The topic was far from his favorite, and the last thing he wanted was to keep discussing it.