Could this swamp be the centipede's nest?
How did it work—teleportation? An illusion?
Why had Nana been dragged in with him? And… was the girl on his back really her? Where had the centipede gone?
Li Pan couldn't figure it out. He just scanned the murky wetlands carefully, nerves taut.
He stagger-stepped through the mud, aping a monkey's stride, left hand bracing Nana's hips, right hand poised like a sword-finger stance taught by the man in the green robe. Energy pooled at his fingertips like a torch—ready to lash out at any sudden strike from below.
But after five minutes of trudging, the centipede never came.
Strange. So this wasn't its lair?
Li Pan halted, feet sunk in sludge, breath fogging.
The cold was unbearable. Icy snakes pierced from the muck into his marrow. His legs grew stiff, sculpted in frost. Needles of pain stabbed through flesh and bone.
"Hhss—haa—hhss—haa—"
Even the monkey trick wasn't enough. He had to stop, stand, and circulate his Nine Yin training to force back the chill.
This place was unlivable. If he'd been in full combat suit, maybe. But half-naked in shorts? What kind of isekai survival was this? He had to find a way back.
As that thought struck—his left hand brushed against something hard.
A key. Silver.
Ha! Heaven doesn't cut off his road after all.
Now… where was the lock?
He peered around. Only swamp. Only fog. Utter silence.
Then—the feeling.
No signal, no trace—just primal instinct. Gooseflesh. The dread of prey beneath a predator's gaze. Something unseen beneath the shallow water, watching. Compared to this presence, the centipede had been nothing but a bug.
"You there…?"
He whispered, spine crawling.
And then—in the corner of his eye—
A sheet. A vast white sheet fell through the mist, like a bedspread blown loose, silent, gliding straight toward them.
Its speed was unreal—like a jump cut in film. One instant far away, the next right upon him.
"Hss—!"
Too late to dodge. Li Pan exhaled hard, flung his gathered force.
Crack—!
A flare of green light burst from his fingertips, a flash like laser sparks. It slashed the sail clean in two. In an instant it was behind him, gone, vanished into the fog.
Li Pan's shoulders eased. The predator's pressure faded.
"…Hey."
On his back, Nana had woken, holding her breath.
"The hell was that?"
"You saw it too?"
He swallowed. "I didn't. What did it look like?"
Nana paused. When she spoke, her voice was cold, hoarse—nothing like before.
"A giant sail. Square. About 260 feet per side. At least Mach 5."
"…Mach 5 and not a sound?"
Li Pan flexed his burning arm. Muscles torn, nerves screaming—no way he could manage another strike like that.
"What was it? Who are you? Where are we?"
Nana shot the soul's three questions.
Li Pan forced a smile. "First we need to get back. Look for a door. A keyhole. That'll get us out."
Nana slipped from his back, shivering in the icy water.
"Hey! Get back up here, don't mess around! If that thing comes again—"
She shook her head, arms tight, jogging in place.
"I'll hold. If I can't, I'll say. You need time to recover too."
Li Pan stared. "…You really seem like another person."
Her eyes were flat. "This isn't the place for talk. Find the door. What does it look like?"
"Obvious, like before—it was in the ceiling…"
Then he froze. Squatted, plunged his hand into the mud.
If the swamp stretched endless, maybe the "door" lay hidden beneath.
"You see the key? Look around. Any lock?"
The water was beyond freezing—liquid ice. His fingers screamed. He swapped hands, groping.
Nana raised her gaze skyward. "This isn't Earth. Nor the QVN net."
"…What?"
She pointed to the implant at her temple.
"I'm a reserve fleet officer. A starship navigator. Our chips sync in real-time with Lunar Fleet HQ. Just now I tracked that UFO—Mach 5 confirmed. But when I tried QVN net and SFCN comms? Nothing. No signal. Nothing."
"Oh."
She scowled.
"Oh? Do you grasp what this means? Instantaneous transfer to another universe would spark a world war."
"…So we isekai'd?"
Her glare could cut steel. "…Give me the key."
He tossed it.
The instant she caught it—
The Sail struck.
A white wing diving from fog like a raptor. It swallowed Nana in one swoop and shot skyward.
"Fuck!"
Li Pan leapt, but the swamp slowed him. Mach 5—the sail vanished into mist in a blink.
Rage stabbed his chest hollow. Then—a thought. It wanted the key.
He whipped out the second silver key, raised it high.
"Come on, bastard! I've got another—!"
But before he finished—white engulfed his sight.
Weightless. No up, no down. Sheets pressing from all sides, crushing him like a gale-driven sail. Air blasted his skin raw.
"…Shit. It's eating me?"
"Nana! Are you alive!?"
He clawed forward. His blue fire gone, only a spark left at his fingertip. Enough to slice. The sails parted, writhing away, leaving a tunnel.
"Nana!"
A blinding flare shot toward him—sparks scorching his face.
A signal flare.
"Coming—!"
He pushed through. Blood lashed his face like rain. Nana was there, crushed into the folds of white, trapped as if in concrete. Her right hand protruded.
Li Pan grabbed, yanked—pulled free a severed arm. Prosthetic. The flare had fired from her artificial finger. Hyper-realistic cyberware—expensive stuff.
He plunged in, tearing at the sail, until he pulled her out, limp, soaked in blood.
Still alive—but barely. Her torso intact. Her left arm gone below the elbow, shredded.
He understood. She'd tried to open a "door" with the key in that hand. The Sail had crushed it along with the passage.
Any later, and she'd have been pulp.
But he couldn't pry the rest open. The sails were endless, hard as steel. Another door attempt could cost him his arm too.
He looked at Nana's pale lashes trembling, heartbeat fading. No time.
He gambled. Poured everything into one final strike, blue fire blasting a path, his left hand plunging through the fabric with the spare key.
"Bang!"
The world blew apart.
He slammed back into reality, lungs full of blood. Ears ringing with dogs barking, alarms blaring, cats howling.
He tore the sheet off his face. The seven-story apartment loomed above. The white sail in his hand now nothing but a limp bedsheet.
"Not so tough now, huh?!"
He tried ripping it. Even with his fourth-tier strength—it wouldn't tear. Definitely a monster's skin.
Neighbors stared from windows.
"The hell you looking at?! Never seen a jumper? Fuck off!"
He bundled the sheets into a box, carried the unconscious, bleeding Nana down. Found a back-alley ripperdoc. Cash upfront, no questions.
Two arms down, but nothing fatal. Two hundred thousand eddies and an emergency prosthetic later, she lived.
While she was under, Li Pan returned to the flat.
No centipede. Only the room opposite Nana's. He kicked it open—sheets everywhere. The cocoon that had wrapped the bug.
So, the haunted flat really was a classic—ghost bedsheets.
He stripped every sheet, dirty or not, bundled them all into boxes, sealed them. Called A-7 to ship them off on a corp freighter.
He geared back up, replayed the hidden cams. Only footage of him and Nana drinking. No sails. No centipede. Cameras cut when they entered the bedroom.
Nothing useful.
So what were these sails? A passage between worlds? Keys, doors, monsters?
He couldn't solve it. For now, containment would do.
Back at the clinic, Nana was stable. Prosthetic crude but functional. In this age, as long as you had a brain left, money could rebuild you.
When she woke, pale in bed, she asked suddenly:
"…So what was that? Some secret corp weapon? A new drone?"
"Something like that. I don't know. I sealed it, but more might come. Don't live there anymore. You've got your permit; I'll cover the rent."
In this cyber-age, even ghosts were written off as tech.
Nana flexed her new arm, sighed. "Alright. I'll move."
Li Pan frowned. "You okay? You were all laughs yesterday. Now you're…"
She met his eyes.
"I'm Auxiliary Personality Unit 'Seven.' Fuyama Nana was bullied in the academy. Couldn't endure the cruelty of fleet training. Severe schizophrenia, depression, suicidal tendencies.
But she had rare spatial aptitude—vital for navigation. The fleet performed a lobotomy, splitting her memory and personality. Shelved her as reserve.
'Xiao Qi' is the human half—feelings, laughter, useless to the fleet. I'm the other.
Normally she's in control. But under combat stress, I surface.
She likes you. But with you, danger multiplies. I can deal with gangs. But corporations? She's just a civilian. For her sake—we should separate.
You covered her surgery. Thank you. I'll handle her lease. I'll edit her memories. From now on, don't contact us."
Li Pan stared. Then lowered his gaze to her missing arm. Finally, he just nodded.
He helped her pack. Watched her wheel her suitcase down into the metro. Disappear into the crowd.
Back alone in his new flat, staring at empty bottles and pizza boxes, he scrubbed his face.
"…Fuck it. She's right. I'm a monster too."
.
.
.
⚠️ 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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