In the decades following the defeat in the Corporate Wars, Earth 0791 had gradually recovered from the chaos of occupation.
To reintegrate into the multiversal order under the Public Safety System, the Night Konzern—Night Corporation Group—implemented a series of economic recovery policies. While these measures redistributed interests and spurred rapid economic growth, they also deepened the wealth gap on Earth 0791.
After the war, the old conglomerate TAKAMAGAHARA Corporation was forcibly bankrupted, liquidated, and split apart. The mass layoffs that followed triggered a dangerous outflow of technology and weaponry, and crime rates in the slums skyrocketed.
Local extremist armed groups advocating violent resistance to overthrow Night Konzern's rule quickly rose to prominence. Their strength soon surpassed that of the interdimensional security forces—forces already crippled by heavy wartime losses and stripped of deterrence—plunging society into unrest.
To prevent the turmoil on Earth 0791 from breeding new cycles of hatred, to counterbalance the war victors' entrenched interests, and to avoid a further descent into chaos that might spark another multiversal corporate war…
The Earth-0 Public Safety Committee granted special approval for the creation of a planetary-exclusive, fully autonomous rapid-response police force—granted battlefield initiative, equipped with enhanced combat armor, drones, and heavy weaponry, and authorized to use Level 5 military technology. Directly under the Earth 0791 Public Safety Bureau, their codename: CERBERUS.
That was about twenty years ago.
A young man with a freshly buzzed head strode down the grimy hallway of a crumbling tenement block, stepping over bankrupts, junkies, and vagrants. He passed cyberpsychos with cheap holo-goggles clamped over their faces, watching illegal braindances while humping vending machines—probably trying to shake out some cheap booze.
He stopped at the elevator on the forty-fifth floor. The control panel had been ripped out, so he leaned toward the security camera.
Yellow, yellow, red, blue, yellow, yellow, red, blue, yellow.
Neon shadows flickered in his irises before the Public Safety System's flat electronic voice chimed inside his skull via an implanted chip. Cool azure text glimmered in his vision like floaters across the retina.
"Citizen Li Pan, account balance: 1,147.95.
Current loan repayment due: 3,379.38.
Total outstanding debt: 25XXXX.XX.
Your next repayment is due on the 15th of this month. Please ensure sufficient funds remain in your account.
Your mental deviation index exceeds the system median by 15 percentile points. Please promptly visit a certified mental health consultant, obtain a valid mental health certificate, and upload it to the Public Safety System for backup.
Thank you for using the Public Safety System. Wishing you smooth sailing."
Only after the iris scan confirmed his identity did the elevator doors creak reluctantly open.
"Damn it, they've hooked mental assessments into the building subnet now? Could've fixed the damn doors while they were at it…"
Li Pan tugged at his collar impatiently, squeezed into the graffiti-smeared elevator, and straightened the cheap rented suit in the grimy glass. As he looped his tie over his head, his gaze slid past the rows of crammed slum blocks, out toward the massive alloy jungle rising from the horizon like a blade stabbing the sky—Night City, artificial island.
Not that Night City of 2077, but the largest urban cluster in the parallel world of Earth 0791. Not in North America, but standing atop the sunken remnants of the old archipelago—drowned by volcanic eruptions and nuclear war—on the ruins of the Thirteenth Neo-Tokyo Metropolitan Zone, a city destroyed and rebuilt over and over again.
Decades ago, when TAKAMAGAHARA Corporation, ruler of the Thirteenth Neo-Tokyo, was torn apart by corporate wolves, the Corporate Wars ended. Night Konzern became the new master of Earth 0791, raising a new Night City from the corpse of its predecessor, feasting on the blood and carrion of the defeated.
As for Li Pan—a transmigrant from ordinary Earth with no system, no background, no powers, and nothing exceptional in body, looks, or brains—this world's towering tech level and yawning wealth gap left him little room to rise.
Still, his hand hadn't been entirely dealt to garbage. At least he wasn't like the vagrants at the doorway, lost in dreams spun from booze, drugs, and illegal netgames. He was still clawing for survival, using interest-free loans from war-orphan subsidies, working under the table, and scraping through the Military Engineering Academy. He'd graduated, registered as a reserve combat engineer, had a civilian-grade Level 2 neural implant, and earned legal citizenship with access to the public network.
A bare-minimum entry ticket to "normal" society.
But as his account just reminded him, graduation meant paying back the 200,000-credit orphan subsidy loan. And with Night City's unemployment at 45%, failure meant maxed-out credit, eviction from even this slum block, and a life of begging, welfare checks, and dumpster diving.
"Sorry! Sorry! Wait—hold it!"
A woman's voice. Li Pan instinctively jammed a hand into the elevator gap, stopping the doors before they could snap shut like a beast's jaws.
In stepped a woman with vivid orange-red hair tied into a ponytail. Ten years younger she'd have been stunning; now, heavy eye bags and disheveled hair betrayed a rushed departure without makeup, though traces of her former allure lingered.
He recognized her faintly—light green medic's uniform.
"You live on this floor too? NCHC Medical?"
"Thanks! You're Li, right? Didn't recognize you with the shaved head. I'm Chengzi."
"Ohh—you're Yamato's mom, right? Heard you work night shifts."
Yamato—her son—often played ball with Li Pan in the open-air lot. Smarter than Li by far, the kid had won a scholarship to Night Konzern's private academy. Upon graduation, he'd be a direct corporate employee—set for life.
Chengzi gave a weary smile, gesturing toward the elevator's emergency news feed.
"Yeah. Called in for emergency overtime—CERBERUS and Akainu are at it again. Heard they used a Level 7 super-gravity ray cannon. Half a block's rubble."
Li glanced at the flickering projection—blood, explosions, firefights. He'd thought it was just some splatter-film ad.
Since the war, remnants of Takamagahara's corporate security forces, mercenaries, and gangs had refused to accept defeat. Many joined the underworld, with radicals forming the Aka Tengu—the "Akainu"—aiming to drive the offworld Night Konzern out by force.
Night Konzern, as any legitimate monopoly, simply called the cops. And under Earth-0's arbitration, the local Public Safety Bureau formed the armed CERBERUS unit to hunt these "wild dogs" down.
Akainu fought back. The bloody "dogfights" had become Night City's favorite recurring tragedy.
Seeing the casualty ticker scroll by, Li whistled.
"Four hundred fifty-three registered taxpayers dead or injured? Damn, the death-lottery payout's gonna spike. Uh—I mean, you folks will be busy…"
"You're telling me. Some chips probably fused into the floor. We'll be scraping them up till tomorrow…"
In truth, the NCHC—Night City Health Center—was little more than a morgue. Postwar, Earth 0791's public health insurance had collapsed. Without private coverage or black-market clinics, treatment was a privilege; NCHC mostly collected bodies.
"By the way, Chengzi—does NCHC still do mental assessments? I need to update my certification for job hunting."
She froze, instinctively stepping back from the buzz-cut man before her—standard reaction upon hearing "mental assessment" in a cyberpsycho-prone city.
Li Pan didn't mind. He rolled up a sleeve, showing a crude prosthetic arm.
"Got crushed working black at a junkyard. Boss didn't pay me, fired me—but gave me this off a disabled vet. Illegal, no serial number, not linked to the safety net. Manual updates only."
Chengzi saw the rusted prosthetic—probably scavenged Level 1 limb tech, the cheapest for the disabled. No threat.
"Any implant needs immunosuppressants. And if it's not custom-fitted, rejection's guaranteed. If you can, try hibernation serum—it'll stabilize your deviation score short-term.
Also, skip NCHC mental health services. The waiting list is five years. I'll give you a private contact—friends of mine. Fair rates, and… you know, they'll issue the certificate no matter what."
"Oh, huge help! Thanks!"
They swapped contacts. The elevator groaned its way to the first floor, and Chengzi drove him to the metro.
"Night Konzern execs are VAMPIRES! Real vampires! Their implants are bioengineered! Level 6 tech! They call themselves the Blood Clan! Feeding on human blood! Ever wonder how many Midtown sex workers have gone missing? Buy silver bullets, you idiots!"
Li passed the ranting man without a glance. The worst part? He was telling the truth.
These corporations weren't a few thousand-employee outfits—they were multiversal conglomerates monopolizing resources across dozens, hundreds of Earths. True lords of the Infinite.
Takamagahara had once owned Earth 0791. They lost the war; Night Konzern took the spoils.
And yes, Night Konzern execs were indeed vampires—bioengineered Blood Clan from another universe. With hostile "wild dogs" nipping at their throats here, they brought their augmentations along.
But you'd never hear that from the NCHK—Night City Broadcasting Association. Street rumors came from vagrants, many working for Akainu-linked gangs.
The Akainu proudly called themselves loyal retainers of Takamagahara, stirring unrest in the slums and staging attacks on Night Konzern.
This kind of corporate war? Even legendary mercs knew better than to step in. Pure suicide.
"Hey, yellow monkey! What size shoe you got, huh? The hell you looking at?"
"Looking at you, so what?"
"You little—"
BANG.
"He killed Charles!"
"Cyberpsycho!"
"My suit!"
Li Pan lowered his pistol, scattering the drugged-up thugs and clearing a train car. He found a clean seat, wiping blood off his sleeve while calling the "private mental health service" Chengzi had given him.
"Yo, what's up."
The voice was young, no avatar—probably masked identity. Almost certainly not legit. Didn't matter.
"Oak Tree Mental Health? Chengzi sent me. You issue mental health certificates?"
"Sure thing. 500 creds a month. No haggling."
Fair enough—he'd been quoted 3,000 elsewhere.
"Will it pass the Safety System check? I'm job hunting."
"Relax. Pay by credit, pass smoother than diarrhea."
Oh, credit payment due next month? Acceptable. If they stiffed him, they wouldn't get their money.
Risky, sure—might be a lowlife hacker stealing his ID, planting a golem, burning his brain, or zeroing his account. But poverty left no choice. Graduation meant losing school channels for certification; without proof, he'd have to amputate the prosthetic to "stabilize" his mind.
And what cripple in Night City stays stable?
"…Fine. Patch me in."
"Okay, let's go."
Thirty seconds later, Li Pan received confirmation: Public Safety System mental assessment updated.
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.
Smooth. Smoother than diarrhea.
Zero deviation. To the system, only a vegetable could be calmer.
.
.
.
⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs 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.
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