After work, wrapped head to toe like a mummy, Li Pan dragged his battered body back to his apartnt. He checked on his neighbor.
Sure enough, Orange was sitting in front of her locked door, also swathed in bandages, staring blankly into space.
While she was hospitalized, Night Corp had dismantled her VR pod, cleared out her electronics—investigating the tech-leak case.
Because she had shouldered her son's massive fines and loans, her credit rating collapsed. No agency would extend her advance pay anymore. The building managent had locked her apartnt; unless she paid a three-month cash deposit before the next billing cycle, she'd be evicted.
But Orange didn't seem to care.
She hadn't been a soldier, but years in NCHC public health service counted as service credits. Her son's admission to Night Corp Polytechnic proved she'd attained citizenship.
So even if the apartnt was repossessed and wages garnished for debt, she'd still receive minimal welfare.
Like the bankrupt drifters in the sa building, she clung to routine—coming ho after shifts, waiting in the hallway, as if her son might soday return and normal life resu.
Li Pan saw the emptiness in her eyes and knew her plan.
"Don't be stupid. Sitting here won't bring him back," he said, hands in pockets. "Co have a drink. Let's talk."
She looked up, hesitated, then followed him in.
The mont she stepped inside, she stripped off coat and pants.
"Whatever you can give. I only want cash."
He ignored her, handed her a cold beer.
"Where's your neural chip?"
"Sold it. I'll replace it with a civilian one later."
She drained the beer, sprawled on the couch, legs stretched, eyes glazed.
Li Pan rolled his eyes, gave her his glasses.
"Look. This is Dahe's case—he was frad."
Her pupils shrank at the word "frad." She sat up and put the glasses on.
"I checked nearby surveillance, asked around. Since you 'died,' he never ca ho. Three days—he'd have returned, even for ntos. And this OS scandal, lots of people know it was his work. I'm 80% sure he was kidnapped."
Orange bit her nails as she scrolled.
"He… he never told any of this…"
"What's the point? To worry you? You couldn't help."
He shoved another beer at her.
"He's too smart. The company won't kill him—they'll keep him coding. He's alive."
"I thought he just fought with classmates… I scolded him, treated him like a punching bag… It's my fault! If I hadn't had him, he wouldn't suffer! I'm useless!"
She broke down, sobbing into her hands.
Li Pan let her vent. He knew a hug here could buy him a night, but he wasn't here for that.
When she cald, he said:
"Finding him can wait. As long as he's useful, he won't be discarded. My hacker friend couldn't trace him—ans it's corporate-level. But once that OS shows up boosting chs, we'll track him.
What matters now are his debts. If you don't pay Night Corp back, even if we rescue him, he has no future. You know how this world works: fix the money, fix most problems. So—how much do you owe? What can NCHC pay?"
"…Thanks."
She wiped her tears, regaining composure. Years in NCHC had hardened her. Compared to the tragedies she saw daily, her plight wasn't rare.
"I spent my savings. Dahe's fines—about 13 million left. Student loan, 1.4 million. Triple penalty for expulsion. About 20 million total.
NCHC base salary is 5,000. With overti and fieldwork, up to 10,000 more. Scavenging corpses for salvage sotis adds a little. Averages out: 20,000 a month. If I paid it all… I'd clear it in eighty years."
Li Pan grimaced. With Dahe's brains, had he graduated, he'd be earning 100,000 monthly. They'd live comfortably.
"…Do you have a dical license? Combat dic certification? Field experience?"
She blinked. "No doctor's license—I'm a nursing grad. But I have combat dic certification. As a frontline cleaner I can handle trauma, basic equipnt."
"And black surgery? Off-the-books?" he pressed.
She didn't hide it.
"Major injuries, no. But removing shrapnel, stitching wounds, swapping implants—I can. I've practiced. Sotis makes a few thousand."
That was enough.
"I have a team. No dical support. If you provide outsourced care, we can contract. Paynt may be cash, goods, or blackcoin. You can live here while waiting for Dahe; rent will count as part of contract."
Orange sat up, studying him.
"Li, you don't have to help . We only slept together once. I'm not worth that."
He sat beside her.
"Of course you are. You're a citizen—you can register a company, apply for loans, even have an obituary number when you die. In this system, you count as a person. That's value.
With a na and channels, you can do a lot—if your debts are cleared. Think of it as investnt: until I rescue Dahe, you repay debt. After I rescue him, he works for . Deal?"
She stared, then nodded.
Exhausted, she leaned on him and fell asleep. He too, and they spent the night head-to-head on the couch.
Humans are fragile, but tough. In the morning, they rose like the rest of the debt-ridden masses, cramming into the subway.
Soone groped him—no, ergency brake. Another jumper on the tracks.
This ti, trains stalled forty minutes. At every stop, desperate workers crushed forward. Li Pan was late clocking in.
"Boss, your three vacation days are gone. Late today, no perfect attendance. Docked 500."
HR temp A-Qi handed him coffee and forms.
"God…"
On subsistence pay, losing 500 was brutal.
"What the hell happened today?! So many track-jumpers?"
Eighteen grinned.
"Yeah, a whole class from so aristocratic girls' academy jumped together, hand in hand. Almost derailed the train. Security Bureau's investigating—cult, hacker, extremists? Forums are exploding. So were from noble families—maybe tied to the underground war."
Li Pan whistled. "A whole class under the wheels…"
"Which academy?" he asked.
Kotaro, who had his own car, perked up.
Eighteen checked. "Kinyo Girls' Academy Affiliated Middle School."
"What!! Kinyo Academy! Middle school division!" Kotaro gasped. "That's top-tier heiresses—Oda, Hashiba, Tokugawa princesses! They're political marriage stock, not battlefield casualties!"
Li Pan grinned. "So Night City's civil war is out of control? Tokugawa's tougher than expected?"
Kotaro bowed slightly. "Maybe because, boss, you haven't acted yourself."
Li Pan laughed loud. "Hahaha! True enough!"
Despite the flattery, they compiled intel:
The Takamagahara inheritance war was peaking. Hashiba expanded in Kansai. Tokugawa's allies crushed. Night Corp sanctioned Tokugawa, deploying yakuza and Night Stalkers against them. Cerberus troops hunted Akatengu defectors. Tokugawa seed dood.
But they still held one force—the Iga Ninjas.
Descendants of the Oniwa Guard, the Iga clan's three houses—led by Hattori Hanzo—had long served Tokugawa. After the Fuma clan was exterminated, Hanzo rose as ninja chief, rallying those who opposed Night Corp.
Once promised Oda's survival in surrender, but Night Corp wiped them out anyway. Now ninjas sward back, harrying Night Corp's limited forces—since their combat fras had to be shipped in from orbit.
That reminded Li Pan—K's prosthetics also ca from orbit… and he'd forgotten their deal!
He checked ssages—luckily, only three days had passed. K had raised the money. One refrigerated shipnt, and Li Pan would net 500,000.
"Rama, where's my car?"
"At Martin's. Repainted. You still owe him 2400."
"Fine. Bring it back—we load tonight."
"Yes, boss."
"Kotaro, the company suspects monsters in the academy incident. Investigate. Eighteen, support."
"Yes boss! I'll infiltrate at once!"
"…I didn't an—ah, whatever. A-Qi, keep hiring."
"Yes manager. Oh—bedsheet still hasn't signed."
"That damn bedsheet…"
He rolled up sleeves, went to the warehouse.
The "bedsheet" still pretended to be a sheet. Li Pan kicked and punched it, warming up, recalling the bearded master's spear thrust. He tried channeling Nine Yin qi through finger-thrusts, imagining himself as an armored knight.
Stab. Stab. Thrust. Thrust.
Each strike carried killing intent, spine whipping, qi surging into his fingertip.
Pfft!
After countless thrusts, gray fla flickered on his fingertip—he'd pierced the sheet!
Success?
But suddenly the sheet rose and wrapped him, smothering his head!
"Shit! You dare revolt?!"
It lted like thick white paint, coating his body, seeping into clothes, mouth, nose.
He staggered back into a wall, collapsed, rose again—only to see, in third-person vision, a humanoid figure in a suit. White, faceless, skin like smooth plaster. No fingerprints, no features.
It raised two fingers, gray fla igniting, and stabbed its blank face. Blood seeped, carving a red grin.
Then it opened its maw and shrieked:
"A-Qi!! Roll back!!"
.
.
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⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.rcs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
💥 High-voltage cyberpunk. Urban warfare. AI paranoia.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
🔗 /DrManhattanEN
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