Cyberpunk: 2075

"ACPA?! Are you sure this is an ACPA?"

Jackie looked shocked the moment he heard Oliver's words—because everyone knew what an ACPA was.

ACPA, or Assisted Combat Personnel Armor, was essentially wearable armor with the firepower and durability of an armored vehicle, even a tank.

In simple terms, it was a power suit—a full-body exoskeleton designed for extreme combat scenarios.

"I'm positive, Jackie." Oliver crossed his arms. "Sixth Street has three riot control ACPAs stashed away. But after Arasaka and Militech signed that ceasefire agreement, ACPAs were officially banned from Night City. And now, I find ACPA intel in a scav hideout? That's weird as hell."

"Banned from appearing publicly?" Carl furrowed his brows.

"But I've seen mechs next to NCPD roadblocks, fully armed to the teeth. Aren't those ACPAs?"

"Nah, those are just enhanced exoskeletons with ACPA-grade weapon platforms," Oliver explained.

"A true ACPA is on a completely different level. Armor, firepower, and pilot safety—it crushes everything we've seen. Imagine a walking tank, one that can plow through anything in its way."

Carl ran a hand through his hair, thinking.

"If power armor is that strong, why are corps so focused on cyberware instead? Wouldn't ACPAs be better for war?"

"Damn, Carl. You really are a rich kid, huh?"

Jackie chuckled and answered before Oliver could.

"Cyberware's about keeping corpo dogs alive. They can replace hearts, lungs, whatever, and still look human. But if you stick 'em inside a power suit, have a machine control their body, and keep 'em alive with nutrient paste, they just become a walking tin can."

Carl suddenly felt like certain stories about fearless mecha pilots were getting roasted.

"And that's not even the biggest issue."

Oliver chimed in.

"The G-force inside an ACPA is insane. A regular meatbag wouldn't survive the strain. If anything, you need cyberware to even pilot one properly."

"So it's not one or the other," Carl muttered, finally getting it.

ACPA and cyberware weren't rivals—they were two halves of the same equation.

Like a spear and its metal tip—only when combined did they become truly lethal.

With this question answered, a new one arose.

"But now that I think about it—if Arasaka and Militech have banned ACPAs in Night City, aren't they worried that a corp, or even a gang like Sixth Street, might secretly stockpile ACPAs and launch an attack on their VIPs?"

Oliver took it upon himself to explain.

"Look, ACPAs are strong, but they're not invincible against cyberware. Do you know how much a good ACPA costs, Carl? Take the Sixth Street gang's light riot control ACPAs—even those are cheap at around 1.4 million eddies per unit. But do you know how much it costs to take one down on the battlefield?"

"Cost?"

"Yeah, because for corps, lives don't mean shit—money does. I heard from some Sixth Street veterans who fought in wars. They said that whether it's a light, medium, or even heavy ACPA, you can take one out with a few soldiers equipped with Sandevistans and tech weapons. And how much does it cost to replace those soldiers?"

[Sandevistan]: A cyberware implant that temporarily boosts muscle reflexes to their absolute limit, effectively making everything around the user slow down.

So killing a high-value ACPA only requires a few cybered-up veterans willing to die for it...

Carl finally understood.

"So... it's a matter of cost efficiency?"

"Yeah, exactly. Corps only care about their bottom line."

Now that he understood the cost vs. combat efficiency, Carl didn't even bother asking what would happen if a Sandevistan-equipped soldier piloted an ACPA.

From what Oliver had explained, ACPA pilots already needed extensive cyberware enhancements to withstand the immense G-forces while operating one. If someone stacked a Sandevistan on top of that?

They'd probably go full cyberpsycho before even finishing their first mission.

Even the average gang rat on the street knew what happens when you overload yourself with cyberware.

—

The ACPA discussion had gone on long enough.

Carl checked the client's message—the vehicle would arrive in one minute.

It was time to haul the target downstairs.

Before leaving, Carl copied all the ACPA-related files from the scavenger's computer—then shot the terminal to pieces.

"We can talk more over food and drinks later. Let's finish the job first."

Finding ACPA schematics in a scav hideout was definitely strange, but without more intel, it was just a curiosity—not something they could act on.

"Fine. At least it gives us something to talk about later," Jackie said, glancing around the room full of severed cyberware.

"But before that..."

His eyes narrowed at the pile of stolen implants scattered everywhere.

"I should probably call the NCPD."

"If there were more bodies here, I'd definitely be having nightmares tonight."

Jackie grinned, clearly joking.

A former Valentino like him wasn't scared of a few corpses.

Hearing Jackie's decision, Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Calling the NCPD? What, so they can confiscate all this cyberware and then sell it to ripperdocs on the black market?"

Despite his cynicism, Oliver still dialed the number.

Because at the end of the day, even if the NCPD was corrupt,

They were still better than the scavs.

...If only by a little.