As Li Pan lectured Rama along the way, their airship glided past the endless white plastic domes, until before them appeared a city sealed under a giant transparent sphere of monomolecular film.
From afar, it looked like a dew drop upon the barren wasteland.
And inside that dew drop: blue skies, white clouds, green hills, clear waters—a springtime utopia, a dreamlike futuristic polis.
This was Kiyosu City. Or rather—the Titan-class colony starship Kiyosu of Takamagahara.
Yes, Titan-class.
The city's heart was a massive warship embedded within a barge. Around it, all the factories and facilities served as a colossal dockyard, maintaining the Titan.
At its height, Takamagahara fielded three Titan-class dreadnoughts: Kiyosu, Gifu, and Azuchi—each serving as flagship of a full battle fleet.
But during the Corporate Wars, both Gifu and Azuchi were destroyed, their fleets annihilated. Kiyosu herself was heavily damaged, surviving only by retreating for repairs.
With the Titans crippled and their fleets obliterated, Takamagahara had no choice but to surrender, ending the war.
Kiyosu was later refitted under Security Bureau supervision: all weapon systems stripped, converted into a colonial ark and refurbished into an orbital megacity. Oda's clan likely dreamed of making it a rival economic and technological hub to Night City.
But with the Oda gene-line exterminated, the ship's captaincy codes had no rightful holder. No one could launch her again.
Proof: Monster Company's airship flew into Kiyosu without system restrictions or no-fly warnings.
Eighteen transmitted two coordinates:
"One is the proposed negotiation site. The other is where I've traced Kotaro's implant."
Li Pan checked. Neither was the residence of any top directors. Clearly, the other side wasn't ready to show their hand.
"I'll meet them. Rama, you check the implant coordinates. Don't infiltrate—just use the crystal orb from afar to confirm Kotaro's there."
"Yes, Boss."
Rama jumped off the airship while Li Pan rode to the meeting point.
It was a high-end private club, unmarked on maps. Private security patrolled the grounds, even mechs among them. Entry required an access code.
Inside, refined gardens: streams, lakes, authentic flora worth a fortune. His ship landed at the designated pad. Li Pan tucked the Headband / One-Kill into his inner pocket, then followed a robot servant into a bamboo grove.
Walking the stone path, ECM interference severed his Fuxi chip's connection with Orochi.
After 150 steps, the grove opened into a sand garden, with a small Japanese-style tea house at its center.
Its plaque read: Sōan-dō, Kyōjitsuan. Before it stood an old man in monk's robes. He bowed to Li Pan.
A tea hut… of course.
Kotaro's intel had mentioned this. Oda had loved tea, gifting cups and bowls to his retainers. Naturally, his underlings emulated him.
It wasn't refinement—they still preferred meat and sake. But tea huts were political venues.
In Takamagahara, ninja spies and digital ghosts monitored everything. Direct political dealings were taboo. Tea ceremony provided cover: clandestine alliances, secret deals. With a tea master present as third party, rebellion could not be openly plotted, but messages could still be conveyed, orders passed.
Tea and ninja—one light, one shadow, one civil, one martial. Together, Oda's iron grip.
Li Pan nodded politely and entered.
Inside, bare wooden floors creaked, paper doors showed silhouettes—designed to prevent eavesdropping. A scroll on the wall bore the phrase Wa-Kei-Sei-Jaku (Harmony, Respect, Purity, Tranquility). The room was sparse, no electronics.
The monk slid open a side door. Waiting within was a giant of a man, nearly two meters, muscles bulging under a suit. Cybernetic military-grade—at least Level 4.
He bowed. "Honored to meet you. I am Tōdō Uemon, president of Tōdō Construction."
Li Pan recalled Kotaro's briefing: Tōdō Construction's upstream was Kinoshita Trading, backed by Hashiba Group. The connection was genuine—this was no proxy shell.
Li Pan offered his own card.
"TheM. Li Pan. I half-expected a room full of ninja."
"You overestimate us. All clans swore to restrain their operatives during this board meeting. That's why the Seima heir caused such a stir."
He bowed again. "Thanks to the Seima heir's introduction, we are honored to host you. My lord ordered me to treat you with utmost respect."
He unlocked a black case. Inside lay eight encrypted datacards.
"Compensation," he said. "For those who damaged your company's assets."
Li Pan smirked. "And your lord now speaks for Takamagahara?"
"Leaderless dragons caused chaos. But the Mito rebel has fallen. My lord intends to restore order and economy."
He slid an envelope forward. "A humble token. If you'd speak kindly of us, my lord would be in your debt."
Li Pan chuckled. "I'll think about it—"
BOOM.
An explosion shook the air. Li Pan frowned. Tōdō and the monk looked equally alarmed. It was distant—not aimed at them.
"President Tōdō, is this how you serve wine and poison?"
He bowed again. "A misunderstanding. Some act on their own, punishing traitors colluding with Mito. The main city is under attack. But this hut is safe. Please, enjoy tea until it passes."
The monk calmed, preparing tea even as explosions echoed.
So—Hashiba had been tipped off. Today was the "last day." They were striking hard, denying outsiders like him options.
"Well. Fine tea indeed."
Li Pan sipped. Tōdō relaxed.
The monk, Sen Jōkyū (Buddhist name Mokuso), began a cultural lecture, praising teaware, assigning poetic names to sweets: sakura mochi, morning dew, brocade jelly. Flowery pretension. In truth, the sweets were sickly sweet, likely to mask the tea's bitterness.
Outside, the battle grew fiercer. Inside, they sipped politely.
Then Li Pan choked. His tea tasted wrong. He looked down—his cup was filled with blood-red liquid.
"Blaaagh!"
"Are you alright?!"
Tōdō and Sen paled—their own bowls brimmed with blood. Horrified, they flung aside their priceless heirloom cups.
"Nani?! Sen, you poisoned us!"
"Impossible! Buddha forgive me!" He gagged. Tōdō too clawed at his throat.
Li Pan cursed—about to strike them—when realization struck. He checked his pocket. The Headband was gone.
"Damn it! Playing tricks on me now? Get out here!"
He tore apart the tea hut, smashing doors and walls, searching. Nothing.
"Your… your eyes!" gasped Sen.
His eyes itched. From their corners, strands of hair wriggled out. His mouth, throat, even organs felt clogged with fur.
He gagged, pulling—yanking a long strand of hair from his throat. Then, with a retch, tore an entire scalp from his stomach and hurled it onto the tatami.
Tōdō and Sen screamed like children.
"Amida Buddha!"
Li Pan roared, "Blade! Give me a blade!"
Tōdō's mantis-arm implants unsheathed two swords. Li Pan wrested one away, slashed open his abdomen, and with bloody hands dug into his stomach—finally retrieving the Headband.
He vomited more hair and blood until clear. Sen fainted dead away. Tōdō convulsed, his cybernetics pumping stimulants, keeping him conscious against his will.
Li Pan sealed the artifact in a jar, stuffed his wound with staples from a med-gun, and staggered out.
At the door, a red-robed woman stood.
Her face hidden by long black hair, clad in a crimson bridal hanfu, barefoot, half-floating. She faced the garden silently.
Behind him, Tōdō collapsed at last.
"Out of my way!" Li Pan snarled.
She drifted aside. But when he looked back—gone.
"Bah. Ghost tricks."
He returned to his craft, re-sealed the Headband in its case.
Eighteen's voice: "Boss, how many people did you kill this time? You're covered in blood."
"Bullshit—I was drinking tea! Rama, report—Kotaro?"
Rama hesitated. "I found him. But… not in a good position."
He transmitted feed.
Kotaro… was in bed, entangled with someone.
Li Pan exploded. "I gutted myself to save him—and he's screwing?!"
Eighteen calmly noted, "He is the Seima heir. They probably want his genetic material. To bear heirs."
Li Pan gritted his teeth. True—without heirs, Seima artifacts would self-destruct. No wonder everyone wanted his body.
"Fine. Rama, drag him out. I'll rendezvous."
Closing his eyes, Li Pan focused his qi. Thanks to the Second Transformation, his wound rapidly sealed.
When he opened them, the red-robed woman sat across from him.
His case was intact, Headband sealed. But her pale face now stared at him from behind a veil of hair.
Li Pan growled, "What the hell do you want?!"
"Boss?" said Eighteen.
"Not talking to you."
"Something wrong?" asked Rama.
"…No. Clearing my throat."
Only he could see her. She pointed outside.
A flash of red light traced across his craft—laser targeting.
"Shit!"
Li Pan leapt from the ship. In the mountains, a glimmer flared.
BOOM!
The Monster Company airship exploded under a high-energy laser strike.
.
.
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⚠️ 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.
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