Some people break their backs hauling bricks, some kill and steal blood, others just wiggle their fingers in an office and money jingles straight into their pockets.
That's just how the world works.
After discussing with Eighteen, Li Pan looked up local "financial consulting" firms and the legal requirements for registering shell companies. They concluded the team needed a real accountant. So, gritting his teeth, he wired one million virtual coins.
Once payment cleared, Finance kept her word—swiftly sending stacks of polished sales documents, full shell company details, and warehouse addresses. All legal local 0791 trading companies, to be used for cycling the "handicrafts" back and forth on the books.
With today's surveillance and e-records, everything had to be physically hauled, creating real-world transaction records to fool the Tax Bureau. And clearly, they couldn't use company vehicles for side jobs anymore.
So Li Pan contacted Martin Meats. After consultation, on his advice, he bought a used Imperial 620 for 32,000 from the secondhand market.
A full-size civilian SUV by VE Motors, cheap and with plenty of mod space. The back seats could be stripped out for cargo, and the chassis was robust enough for hover-engine and battery retrofits.
Plus, the Imperial's police variant "Iron Emperor" was widely sold to the NCPA. That meant aftermarket grade-4 police parts were plentiful—comms, armor plating, reinforced tires, rams. With 100–200k later, it could rival official patrol vehicles.
Since this SUV would be his workhorse through firefights, Li Pan also dropped 48,000 on a grade-4 vehicle chip: Xingtian 9T—independent system, autopilot, smart assist, ECCM.
Then another 28,888 on a grade-4 ICE blocker, so Eighteen could plug in and firewall it against hackers.
Add 3,000 for NCPA fines, 3,200 vehicle tax, and 400 licensing fees—and his account balance dropped to just 92.32.
Tough. Really tough. You fight so hard to earn a little, and a dozen hands are waiting to grab their share.
Money. Never enough.
He skipped travel that day, tossed some sheets around, filled reports halfheartedly. After work, Qi and Rama would take the Superdream driving test, practice with the SUV, and haul goods for tax paperwork. Even their measly 10% cut had to be earned.
But it wasn't just Li Pan—K was also still raising funds. The 500k installment wasn't coming yet. So Li Pan figured he'd better hit the East City Alliance again, just in case.
"Yagyu and Takasugi… must be Yagyu, the 10th boss, and Takasugi the war-faction leader of the Oni Troops. Yagyu's old-school yakuza, but the Oni Troops are tied to Red Tengu," Kotaro explained.
Kotaro had been overworked, but as a local still knew the underworld well. He compiled intel:
The East City Alliance was backed by the Tokugawa Conglomerate, strong in New Tokyo.
But after the Akechi assassination, Tokugawa Medical's chairman vanished. No sign at the Kiyosu Council either—possibly dead.
Night Clan was now attacking Tokugawa assets. Legal businesses fared better, but gangs like East City Alliance, without legal protection, were being slaughtered. Losses were heavy.
The Oni Troops were fighting back, clashing with Night Clan dogs like Tenryu and Lovers Gang.
Yagyu still hesitated. Fighting Night Clan was suicide. Kansai's Hashiba faction would seize Takamagahara anyway. Other yakuza—Hachisu Party, Yamabishi—were circling their turf.
With Tokugawa down, both Night Clan and Hashiba would devour East City Alliance.
"Power struggles, infighting. Takamagahara is finished."
If it were before, killing the Yuchi gang would have brought the whole underworld against him. Now? They were too weak. Li Pan wouldn't waste the chance to kick them when down.
He researched bounty hunter licenses.
Truth was, the NCPA wasn't entirely to blame. Under Takamagahara, yakuza were legal. Police and gangs had tacit deals. With Red Tengu veterans joining gangs, NCPA budgets and firepower were no match.
So the Security Bureau opened a bounty hunter system—licensed vigilantes who could shoot criminals legally, supporting NCPA patrols.
When a case was reported, NCPA's alarm would ping not only cops but also nearby licensed hunters.
But unlike auxiliary police, hunters got no salary. Bronze level required a 3,000 fee, 15% tax, and at least one mission per month. Fail, and your license was revoked. Complete 100 in a year to promote to Silver.
Bounties were pitiful: 500 for henchmen, 1,000 for members—only if they had records. Cheaper than shooting rabbits on frontier worlds. Hunters weren't eager.
Still, the license granted access to NCPA's criminal system. Fight a wanted thug? Legal and paid. Hence every punk, merc, PI, and hacker got one.
No money? Just grind.
So Li Pan took the subway to Old City, disguised with Qi's mask, prowling yakuza turf.
He spotted four punks loitering outside a nightclub. Tattoos—dragons and tigers—obvious gangsters.
"Hey! What're you staring at—"
With a Superman flying kick, Li Pan broke one's neck.
"What the—"
"Cyberpsycho!"
"Mommy!"
In seconds all four were dead. But payout: only 680?
Wrong gang. They were Tenryu lackeys. Worth just 200 each. No wonder they dared strut around.
But Tenryu were trash too. Immigrant gangsters, hated by locals, no legit rackets, so they turned to human trafficking, smuggling, prostitution, drugs, gambling—exploiting fellow migrants worst of all. Ruthless scum.
Li Pan, once a Peace Hotel day laborer, knew their tricks: charge migrants fake fees, seize documents, bleed them dry, then sell them as slave labor to toxic factories or farms. Tokyo Bay's cement barrels—half theirs.
Disgusted, he entered the club.
Inside: a dozen Tenryu goons, drinking, sniffing, beating four East City Alliance staff bloody in the dance floor. From the back room, a woman screamed.
"Who the hell are you!?"
"Kill him!"
Li Pan shut the door, rolled sleeves, and pounced.
Grade-5 vs grade-2 thugs—no contest. He disarmed them, stabbed, killed. Even the boss, caught half-naked trying to flee through a window, got dragged down and finished.
A quick dungeon clear. Account jumped to over 3k. He applied for a bounty license—instantly approved.
Plugging into the NCPA system, he scanned the scene: identities, charges, everything. Tenryu crew—assault, robbery, rape, drugs. East City punks too—drug dealers caught selling powder here.
All scum. Slit them too. Balance rose past 2k.
Just as he was about to hit another den—Yamato pinged him.
"Help me."
???
"Yamato? What's going on?"
No reply. Device offline.
What? His Night Clan implant offline? Impossible.
Li Pan tried calling Orange. Same—offline.
Both at once? Dead?
"Eighteen! Search last eight hours' incidents! Civilian casualty list! Keywords: Yamato, Orange!"
"Confirmed. Case found. Bronze license requires 500 fee. Silver gets half-price…"
Shit! It's real! He paid. Opened the file.
First photo—Orange's car, riddled with bullets!
Heart sinking, he scrolled to casualties.
Thank god—they were listed as critical, not dead.
The report: rush hour, highway jammed, they got caught in a gang ambush. Right next to the target vehicle.
The ambushed gangsters survived, rescued by Tokugawa Medical's private team. Attackers retreated. Civilians survived, taken away critical by NCHC medics.
"Damn. Surviving in Night City is hell."
Dropping everything, Li Pan rushed to NCHC HQ.
Too late—they'd been transferred.
"Transferred!? They were shot to pieces!"
NCHC staff explained:
"Yamato's fine, just concussion. Orange was hit badly, fragments in his body. We lacked the gear. So his guardian processed transfer to a private hospital."
"Which one!? And why isn't Yamato answering!?"
Li Pan got the address—only for Eighteen to beat him to the news.
"Refused admission."
"What!?"
"University Hospital of New Tokyo. Tokugawa's. But Tokugawa is at war with Hashiba. Night Clan declared sanctions—cut off financial and tech support. Your friends' cards and insurance are Night Clan—rejected at the door."
"Fuck!"
Yamato expelled from his Night Clan school, banned from facilities. Notice said: cheating, fighting, spying, selling OS, leak. Chip revoked, implants deactivated, accounts to be canceled tomorrow.
He was ruined. No citizenship, no systems.
So Orange… already doomed?
Eighteen pulled footage—NCPA street cam: Yamato and a man pushing Orange's bed out of the hospital.
"Unknown male. Not doctor, not patient. Spoke to Yamato, left together. I hacked traffic cams, but that's Security Bureau turf. Can't trace."
"Security Bureau…"
Li Pan tried Uncle Chen from Third Division. Three minutes later he got an ID.
Shiro Ishii—pharma rep. Known scammer, luring terminal patients into illegal trials with fake loans. Partnered with scavengers for experiments and organ trafficking.
"Scavs! Shit!"
Eighteen paled. "Wait! Those spine implants we sold… we sold to them!"
Li Pan bolted. "Eighteen! Hack their clinic! See if they're still alive!"
"Boss… how do you even know their hospital location? But if you know them, just call! Beg them to save, not harvest! Who are they aligned with, Takamagahara? Night Clan?"
Li Pan grimaced. If only it were that simple.
"Neither. They're Whirlpool Gang."
.
.
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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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