The two of them signed off, and the meeting began. This time, there were no transistor radios, no other general managers eavesdropping.
After all, the proposal had already passed. HQ had formally agreed to Li Pan's plan to assault the Demon King Research Facility. The rest—the operational details—didn't need upper management. That was the branch's burden.
081 spoke first:
"General Manager of 0791, are you familiar with corporate war-readiness?"
Li Pan:
"Not really. But I do know what the aftermath of Entangled Fate / Deathbond awakening could look like.
General Manager 081, your foresight was spot-on. Indeed, some scum tried to steal such a dangerous artifact—harming Monster Company's interests, threatening law-abiding citizens' lives and property. Truly, a crime beyond pardon."
(Back when 081 had shown such fear toward Entangled Fate / Deathbond during the council, Li Pan wasn't sure if it was theatrics or genuine trouble in 081's world projection. Either way, this time no contradictions arose. The proposal passed smoothly.)
081 ignored Li Pan's sarcasm.
"I approve your application to assault the target Demon King Underground Research Facility. But I do not approve your plan to employ fleet-level orbital bombardment. I propose revisions. Do you accept?"
Li Pan:
"Accepted."
He didn't mind. He hadn't even completed his technical department assignments yet, and who knew what other "corporate equipment" could be deployed? He'd just thrown in an application for a stealth bomber warship after spotting fleet inventory in the system.
Stealth bombers were specialized ships—frigate-class hulls retrofitted with cloaking, interference screens, and warp mine payloads. Tactical subs of the void, perfect for sudden strikes.
So Li Pan had scribbled up a half-assed ops plan: large fleet maneuvers to draw defenses, stealth bomber to sneak in, plant warp mines, drop a tactical nuke, flatten the dojo, storm the base, wrap it all up in thirty minutes.
But if no ships or nukes were forthcoming? He'd have to rely on Cerberus rifles and Kotarō's Level 5 body, smashing through the sewers instead.
Either way, might as well hear the man out.
081 signed rapidly, and the wall projector flickered to life with a slide deck of "Monsters."
The Options from 081
Plan A – "Refined Bee Venom"
A synthetic biotoxin keyed to genetic sequences. Once released into the ecosystem, it hunts down and exterminates all organisms sharing that gene. Population-wide eradication. Afterward, sacrifice one temp worker and the venom self-degrades.
Plan B – "Moho Plane Subsidence Ritual"
Consume six temps. Perform the ritual and mass suicide. Result: earthquake. Target structure sinks beneath the Moho layer.
Plan C – "Binding Doll"
A temp wields the doll and visually confirms the target (live video works). Target has a probability of dying under its gaze. One temp consumed per day. Strict rule: temps must not converse with the doll. After mission, incinerate immediately.
Li Pan:
"Wow… badass. But seriously—must it always consume temps? I don't even have six people to spare!"
081 gave him a flat look, signed again.
Plan D – "Stinger"
Use on an employee. Injects continuous pain and allergic reactions. Employee produces raw Bee Venom peptides. Within 48 hours, a reset cures it. But—if a temp is killed during the pain period, the killer is infected and dies in 48 hours.
Plan E – "Pyroxene & Gabbro Beads"
Employee wears the beads. They feel crushing heat and pressure—only removable by amputation. During wear: superhuman power underground—stone-skin, radiation immunity, seismic strength. Power grows with depth. If the beads are destroyed, auto-triggers a Moho Subsidence Ritual.
Plan F – "Headband"
Employee's every strike becomes lethal, irreparable by science. Both target and user suffer hallucinations, risk permanent mental trauma, or even vanish mid-operation. If so, records must be deleted and the headband recovered.
Li Pan rubbed his chin. This guy's just reframing the original three—summons vs. triggers.
But hell, from the perspective of flattening Akiyama's dojo, any of these would do.
Li Pan:
"Can I have D, E, and F?"
081 shrugged. Signature flourish.
"The sub-projects will be delivered within one hour."
Li Pan:
"Thanks, man. Drinks on me when I get a raise."
He was ready to wrap it up. But 081 wasn't.
"0791. You still don't grasp a GM's duty."
Li Pan chuckled.
"Oh? Then enlighten me."
081 obliged:
"The GM's duty is to the Board, not to temps. When monsters rampage, apostles descend, or corporate wars break out, saving a few temps—what's the point?"
Li Pan:
"Relax. I studied HR. It's about maximizing returns on lives spent. Monsters and nukes are no different. But when sending people to die, you do have to think of the comrades' morale, right?
Soldiers get hidden perks. But temps at 2.5k a month? And you want me to demand glorious sacrifice? What a joke. If the Board cares so much, let them handle it themselves."
081 sneered.
"So it's about wages? Fine. You were chosen as emergency stopgap—not like us formally recruited. Let me be clear: even official staff barely make 20k a month. Even GMs—one million, tops.
A lot? With my degree, finance or tech would pay ten times that. Do you know my student debt? This salary doesn't even cover private healthcare.
Listen carefully. TheM's salaries—like warehouse scrap—exist to appease the Tax Bureau. If you think wages cover the risk of monsters—you're deluded.
But the platform and monsters are yours to exploit. HQ only cares you don't piss off the Security Council. How you turn those resources into profit, how you make your people die willingly—that's your job.
Takamagahara wanted to steal a monster? That's nothing. Using war-readiness for this is charity. Next time, settle it with two warehouses yourself."
Click. Lights off.
And Li Pan finally understood.
No wonder Monster Company always paid rewards in "Silver Keys," never cash.
It was all about tax evasion.
Bee Venoms, Beads, Dolls—priceless, untaxable. Better hidden.
But if corporate perks could legally be leveraged for staff welfare? That was worth studying.
War Funds and Gear
Back at the office, the fax churned out sheets.
A secret war account: 10M daily cashflow cap.
Three war-readiness drops.
Funds could purchase guns, ammo, gear. Prosthetic augmentations too—but those remained company property, usable only on duty, under GM permission.
Still, better than nothing.
Li Pan ordered Rama a full-body augmentation suite: chips, double-jump, gorilla arms, metal bones, ceramic armor, synthetic organs. A Level 4 mercenary package. Combat power—1M.
He bought four exoskeleton combat armors (200k total), covert suits for the strike team.
Shiba-18 got a military comms rig for their hover-truck, enabling battlefield subnet and secure channels (800k).
From CSI, he purchased a Spider Drone and stockpiles of munitions (8M). Everyone—armed to the teeth.
Cash left was slim, so he grabbed a Level 4 QVN headset (20k) and a ballistic processor (5k). At least now he could hit targets past 20m.
Then he and Ah Qi left by company car to retrieve the war-drop containers.
HQ had already deployed a stealth spec-ops craft, inserting the three DEF items—Stinger, Beads, Headband—into Night City. Hidden containers, radar-proof, manager-level clearance required. The drops went smoothly.
Inside: three alloy briefcases. Each sealed artifact.
Li Pan carried them with exoskeleton arms, alongside ammo crates, while suiting up Ah Qi and Rama. Over comms, he restated the plan:
Team A (Assault): Li Pan, Kotarō, Spider Drone. Objective—breach underground facility.
Team B (Support): Ah Qi, Shiba-18, Rama. Hold surface exit, secure retreat. Plus, hired sniper cover.
"If we fail, withdraw immediately. No need to save us. If no contact after three days—delete my record."
Realistically, combat power was uncertain. Only the Spider—8M worth—was guaranteed. Kotarō and Rama? Hopefully their gear baseline was enough.
Shiba-18 raised a hand:
"Question: are we really airdropping a nuke?"
Li Pan:
"No nukes. No stealth bomber this time. If necessary, the spec-ops ship can fire a Level 5 bunker-buster thermobaric warhead. But our Spider's Iron Rain cluster penetrators should handle a normal facility."
Shiba-18: "Hmm…"
Li Pan: "Out with it."
Shiba-18: "Okay… I saw a post on Devil's Harbor. Says there's a concert tonight. At Sakura Park."
Li Pan: "Devil's Harbor? Concert? Why didn't I find this?"
Shiba-18 projected the darknet forum.
"Devil's Harbor is a niche cyber-geek site. Lots of artists and hackers. They say a rock band—TRAPBEAST—is playing a concert there tonight. Supposedly popular lately. Crowd expected."
Li Pan:
"Seriously? Rock stars? People still go live? Download the music in DreamNet, done."
He searched. TRAPBEAST—an indie group of unemployed grads, later joined by a bankrupt producer. Underground gigs had built them a small following. No corporate backers. Barely scraping by. Tonight they'd rented Sakura Park.
If a thermobaric warhead flattened the stage—yeah, they'd be world-famous overnight.
Li Pan:
"Fine. Unless absolutely necessary, no WMDs. On the bright side, their loud music will mask our gunfire. Any other issues?"
Kotarō, clad only in ninja garb, hesitated.
"Manager, Akiyama Dojo is a public site. If alarms trigger—even if NCPA ignores it—Akainu might respond if Takamagahara has an active base there…"
Li Pan:
"Then don't trigger alarms. Got it?"
Kotarō sweated.
"But the public safety grid…"
Shiba-18 cut in:
"Yeah, my gear can only handle comms and doors. I can't hack the entire system!"
Li Pan:
"Relax. This is corporate war. I wouldn't forget the Safety Bureau. HQ's tech division will ICE the area, cut the net, blackout alarms and surveillance. NCPA won't see a thing."
Ah Qi: "We're over the target."
Shiba-18: "Subnet ICE established. Encrypted comms stable."
Li Pan:
"Then—operation start. Kotarō, scout ahead."
Kotarō activated optical camouflage, leapt from the hover-truck.
As he fell, the neon sea of Night City blinked out—like a curtain of shadow pulled across the skyline.
Li Pan stood atop the invisible floater, watching darkness spread outward, swallowing the district.
For a moment, the entire city was swallowed in true night.
Li Pan sighed: "And you still dock my pay…"
Ten seconds later, the city flickered, backups kicked in, and neon blazed again—like the metropolis had only blinked.
Kotarō: "Landing zone secure. Safety system offline."
Li Pan: "Good. Proceed as planned."
Shiba-18: "HOLY SHIT… Do you realize what just happened? They just kicked all of 0791's subnet off QVN!"
Li Pan shrugged.
"You heard him. Even safer now. Move out."
.
.
.
⚠️ 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.
🔗 patreon.com/DrManhattanEN