It was a pity they couldn't save anyone, but kidnappings and killings by gangs had become so common these days that if you rummaged through a landfill you could gather piles of human remains. Li Pan was long used to it.
For ordinary people, crossing a gang meant no body left to bury. Real life wasn't like movies, where you showed up at the last second to rescue the hostage.
What about the NCPA? Heh. At best, they sat idle. If the local police chief and the gang boss shared pants, you'd be the one accused of "hitting someone's palm with your face."
Of course, the Public Safety System did exert some control. Fines, multiplied bail for repeat offenders, bounties encouraging hunters to eliminate scum, and denying all public services to gangsters. Tax Bureau scrutiny crippled every purchase. They pushed them into the underground, hated like cockroaches.
But still—there were always corporate dogs like Kim Yongjun, willing to serve gangs for money.
Even if you eradicated the East City Alliance or the Shura Association, new outfits like the Dragon Gang or Lovers' Gang would fill the void.
Non-Security Committee megacorps—be it Takamagahara or the Night Consortium—always needed gloves to do the dirty work outside the Committee's rules. Push them too hard, and they might flip the table into another corporate war.
Li Pan didn't care to think about such complexities. But once he put on his face, glasses, and gloves, the Public Safety System chimed in:
"Citizen Li Pan, system detected illegal entry, violation of property security. Fine: 3,000. Pay by month's end at designated NCPA branch, or face bounty warrant."
Damn. They'd caught him. The system was not easy to fool.
Illegal property invasion?? Even loan sharks like Yuchi Trading were hooked into the NCPA alarms? The world was beyond saving.
Then another chime:
"Citizen Li Pan, law enforcement bounty received: 36,975.00 credited. Current account balance: 36,980.32."
…Wait what?
Oh right! Killing gangsters earned bounties!
Sweet!
He checked the bill carefully. Already taxed.
Public Safety System, Night City (Earth 0791), East City Alliance affiliate gang Yuchi Group, bounty schedule:
Group leader: 10,000
Captain: 5,000
Lieutenant: 3,000
12 underlings: 1,000 each = 12,000
27 grunts: 500 each = 13,500
Total: 43,500
Because Li Pan lacked a bounty hunter license, he was taxed 30%. But since 0791 was unstable lately, volunteer citizens got 50% rebate—so only 15% tax.
Net: 36,000.
"Damn. Truly, crime does pay! Gold belt for arson and murder!"
Of course, this meant the entire operation had been monitored by the system. His "good citizen" deed and tax filing were now on record. Tearing off his face was useless—the system had a million ways to ID him.
And seriously? A fully cyber-enhanced gangster boss, able to take his punches, was only worth 10k? After taxes? Pathetic. No wonder law and order was a mess. No sane citizen would risk retaliation for a few thousand credits.
But then Li Pan realized: wait. He'd leveled up. He could grind mobs himself. Experience + loot. Like an MMO dungeon!
Yes, the math sucked: can't loot bodies under surveillance, bounty peanuts compared to gang wrath. But—it was still a legal way to earn real cash! Better than laundering!
No wonder punks became bounty hunters—raid a gang HQ, sweep the dungeon, cash bounties. Li Pan saw a new door open. Farm seventeen or eighteen groups like Yuchi, and his debts would be cleared!
Then Eighteen messaged:
"Boss, East City Alliance just posted a kill order on the deep web…"
A video: "Cyberpsycho Faceless Man, 100k bounty."
Li Pan shrugged. The footage was only low-res security cam of his faceless self. They couldn't access Tax Bureau or Safety archives. No big deal.
"No worries. If they come for me, they're signing their death warrant.
Oh, and Eighteen—same deal, 50-50 split. Take half the bounty. Also, pull me a list of East City Alliance dens. Once I'm done with Shura, we'll sweep their dungeons! By the way, where's Kotaro?"
He transferred 18k to her. For her, spare change. She scanned the map.
"Kotaro's signal vanished in the Port District. Odd—I found no suspicious vehicles."
The Port—once New Tokyo Bay's harbor and airport hub. Now abandoned after floodgates and expansions. Just warehouses, cargo drones, ghostlike emptiness.
Kotaro's signal vanished in a logistics park. But Yongjun's intel sufficed: Shura's base was a retrofitted LNG freighter. Huge ships with custom pressurized tanks for liquid gas—few existed in the park, easy to spot.
So Li Pan ripped off his face again, circled via dried canals, crawled sewers, vaulted vents—parkour infiltration under Eighteen's guidance.
Eighteen analyzed: "The speed—yes, hidden subway! Reincarnation Bar must sit on a secret private rail. Not on public maps, dodging Safety Bureau oversight. A VIP line linking underground factions. Never seen this on forums!"
"Oh great, so I can ride it back? Sewers are gross. I think I stepped on a dead rat…"
"VIP only. Spend millions at Reincarnation and you might get invited."
Money could buy anything.
Finally, Li Pan emerged into a derelict shipyard. The LNG ship loomed, half-built facade disguising Shura's lair.
"Log shows abandoned yard, but really a private subnet. Heavy defenses, ICE hackers watching. Hard to sneak in—unless…"
"Then no sneaking."
He charged in, weaving past mines and turrets. Guards hesitated—seeing a faceless bloodied figure wiggling in their feed at midnight would unnerve anyone. By the time they fired, he was already serpent-dashing, bullets missing.
Before defenses fully engaged, Li Pan vaulted, gecko-like, onto the hull.
"Defense mode active. Active. Act-act-active…"
Drones and bots lit up, spraying cheap tier-3 ammo. Illegal gangs only got secondhand junk.
If this had been CSI's positron cannons, Li Pan wouldn't breathe loud. But scavenged bots with shotguns? Please.
"Haha! Nine Yin Divine Palm!"
He somersaulted, flipped, hurled qi-charged palm strikes like flying stones, toppling robots, smashing through hatches, storming the ship.
Shura thugs were too stunned by his insane "infiltration" to react. By then, Eighteen had hacked their ICE, alarms blaring, cameras fried, lights flickering. Her digital onslaught cleared the way.
With hacker support, Li Pan smashed fire doors, rushing deeper toward the densest "qi" concentration.
He sensed it like a glowing sea of souls—countless white flames crowding the chamber. A sauna of human suffering.
The "human farm."
People treated as livestock. Bred, auctioned, butchered, processed. A conveyor belt from pens to dining table.
Beyond slavery or organ trade—this catered to twisted elites, bespoke horrors.
So that was the source of the dark hyperdreams on the deep web. Not CGI, not clones—real humans.
Hell on Earth.
Li Pan showed no mercy. He stormed the plant, crippling butchers and tossing them into grinders, jamming the belts with gore.
He checked the "livestock." All ruined—drugged, lobotomized, mutilated. No saving them. They were humans, not clones.
"Is tormenting our own species such joy? Humans are terrifying…"
Then the farm master arrived.
Whirr!
A "Demon" class Muramasa SMS mech burst through the floor, wielding a golden plasma katana. Three meters tall, samurai-styled armor—full chuuni cosplay.
It crushed "cattle" underfoot, plasma waves carbonizing scores, exploding bodies into charred pulp. The stench of burned meat drowned the air.
Li Pan dodged, serpentine, barely escaping the ion blade.
Another plasma sword!? Yes, tier-5 weapons were monstrous, battleship-cutters. Barehanded, he couldn't block. His qi strikes couldn't dent the samurai armor. This was full military tech. He had to run.
Of course, this wasn't the Shura leader himself. Too small cockpit—likely a remote drone, piloted by hackers. Smashing it would waste effort and resale value.
Better to flee until Eighteen handled the hackers.
Indeed, the ship's systems flickered—sign of Eighteen's cyberwar against local operators. Lights and doors spazzed as she fought for subnet control.
Again: having a badass hacker made life easy. She even guided him straight to the hackers' control room.
Inside: three VR pods. One operator already dead, blood from every orifice. The other two convulsed, brains frying.
Li Pan yanked one out, unplugged him. The man screamed like a dying duck and soiled himself before death.
"Ugh. Disgusting."
The last hacker opened his eyes, silver sparks flashing in his pupils.
"Yes, disgusting. That's why you need jars."
"…Eighteen?"
"Correct. Shura leader is hiding at the Elder's mansion. Kotaro found him. But he's not in good shape."
"What!? Already turned into furniture!?"
"Not exactly…"
She streamed video of a train car. A chaotic melee. Drugged young women, meant as tonight's "main course," rioted. Among them—a crossdressed Kotaro, sending the scene spiraling out of control.
Well then. The Seal Demon Clan might just have an heir after all…
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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.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
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