But Huang Dahe's situation couldn't be rushed. Night City was still chaos—Iga's ninja army held out, the Tokugawa clan resisted stubbornly. The deep net swarmed with traps and dolls; even Eighteen dared not wander far.
And with Kotaro missing again from the girls' school, Li Pan had no intel. Just that bodies kept dropping—executives "slipping" from rooftops, rail suicides, overdoses every day.
The scene was like Ninth Neo-Tokyo: depression, markets crashing, salarymen raining from towers, business suits fluttering like dead leaves, splattering with a piaji.
But unlike punks, salarymen rarely died "messy deaths."
If a corp employee got shot, security would lose performance bonuses. And since employees were registered citizens, NCPA or Security Bureau would be obligated to ask questions if they vanished.
So in low-intensity corp wars, deaths were staged: "falling accident," "bankruptcy hanging," "overdose," "vehicle crash." Quiet, legal, statistical ghosts.
Monster Company excelled at this. One purge, not even a hair left in the archives.
"Sigh… cultivation is better. Free… no jobs, no assessments, no grind…"
At night, Li Pan meditated—like playing a VR dream-game—controlling Li Qingyun on Turtle Shell Island, exploring, popping pills like candy, even tossing them into the black sea to bait fish-monsters.
The "fish" were grotesque—thirty to fifty feet, no two alike, mutant beasts. Only level 4–5 threats, relying on brute bite-and-charge tactics.
With Qingyun's skill, even without magic weapons, he blasted them apart. His qi palm-shots turned into dragon-shaped force, weaving and coiling across ten yards.
He'd even named it, in true chuuni fashion: Nine Yin True Dragon Break. Every day, blasting fish with it.
Li Pan tested it upon waking.
"Nine Yin True Dragon Break! Hah!"
But where Qingyun's strike summoned a roaring dragon ripping monsters to gore, Li Pan's palm gust barely carried three feet. Maybe cracked a sofa or shattered a mirror. At best, a parlor trick.
Hmm… a handgun was still more reliable.
Rules of this plane suppressed his power. Compared to Qingyun, his cultivation here was pitiful. Better to lean on Orange, Nana, K, and others to build strength.
The next day, Kotaro was still absent. Rama too, stuck behind NCPA roadblocks after a street gunfight near his night school.
Yes, Rama was attending night classes. Locked in a kennel most of his youth, he'd self-taught through free videos. Now, with his cut from the last job—sixty-eight thousand after tax—Eighteen enrolled him in an adult school. Mostly vocational basics, but useful to reconnect with modern tech.
But with everyone late, it felt like they should be paying to work at the company.
Eighteen protested: "Not true. Legal minimum wage is 4.5. As long as you clock in, you're paid. Temps get 500 attendance bonus—lose it once, no further deductions."
"And besides," she added, "other branches don't even clock in. Employees keep bodies at the office, or remote-manage. Only requires manager approval. At least one department head must stay on-site. Double shifts for execs, so someone's always around."
Li Pan blinked. "So the tech department… is basically brain-machines?"
A humanoid robot in a suit delivered his coffee.
Yes, A-Seven had bought a body. Before, his suit-only self drew stares. Now, clothes draped on a skeletal bot, he blended into the world.
Eighteen had ordered the cheapest humanoid frame from Meiji Electronics—bare white plastic shell, no synth-skin. Still cost tens of thousands. Professional-grade, upgradable later.
Li Pan sipped coffee.
"Good. I appoint you deputy manager, A-Seven."
"Thank you! I'll work hard!"
Eighteen: "Uh, deputies must be regular employees, approved by HQ. Boss, you just don't wanna come to work."
Who the hell wants to come to work? He just wanted to make money!
Still, others did want to join.
Today's task: interview Yamazaki Ayato, an undercover agent sent by the Security Bureau.
Li Pan hit him with the three soul questions:
"Who are you, where from, where going?"
Caught off guard, Ayato explained:
"Manager, I'm Yamazaki Ayato, chemistry major at Tokyo U. I'd signed an entry contract with my lab, but it burned down. Mentor dead. With loans and non-compete restrictions, I can't work in my field. I've been temping as waiter, trainer…
I want to join your company because it's Security Committee-aligned, Fortune 500 across the planes, with chances for temps to go permanent. I believe I can—"
"Congratulations. Hired."
Ayato gawked. He had a whole speech prepared. Li Pan just grabbed his hand warmly.
"Ayato, a talent like you is wasted elsewhere. Treat this company as home. We're family. By the way, any implants?"
Tense, Ayato admitted:
"Yes. My professor secured Takamagahara implants for me. But usage rights are blocked now…"
Li Pan nodded.
"When you formally join, your implants will be destroyed. Okay?"
Ayato froze.
"Destroyed? You mean surgical removal?"
Snap of fingers.
"No surgery. Safe. Just like this. Poof—millions gone. You can reinstall later. Don't ask me, it's black tech."
Ayato hesitated.
Li Pan encouraged: "No worries if you decline. Implants are expensive."
But Ayato muttered:
"In truth… my lab had secrecy protocols. They implanted surveillance chips in my brain-stem. If I breached contract, it would fry my circuit. No normal surgeon could remove it. Your company… really can?"
Li Pan raised brows. So that's why they sent him.
"Well, you can try. But fair warning: temps must complete at least one assignment before payday. You can quit anytime, but only after that."
Monster Company differed from others: temps could leave whenever. But memories of Monster would be wiped, equipment repossessed. Still, freedom on paper.
Ayato bowed ninety degrees.
"Please let me try. Yoroshiku!"
Li Pan shrugged, filed his papers, shoved them in the cabinet.
"Done."
Ayato: "???"
Li Pan handed him a faxed mission slip.
"Here. A field assignment. Stop by the hospital, your implants should be gone already."
Ayato left, utterly bewildered.
Perfect. If all undercover agents could be brushed off like this, it'd be ideal.
Li Pan skimmed the fax pile—most weren't investigations, just procurement. By the fourteenth manager, most monsters in 0791 had already been catalogued.
He picked a target suitable for training rookies.
In the mountains near Night City, owned by Tokugawa Medical: their treasure, the so-called Fountain of Agelessness.
Discovered by villagers, rumored to extend life. Tested as normal mineral water, ignored for years—until a criminal case revealed the villagers' identities were fake. Some had lived over two centuries.
In those days, tech wasn't advanced, villagers weren't rich. Impossible to sustain life that long without cause.
Both Takamagahara and Monster Company investigated. But the land was Tokugawa's private estate, off-limits. Result: Tokugawa Medical built a spa resort, now retirement retreat for corp presidents.
Since it seemed only to grant "longevity, not immortality," Monster left it be.
But now? Tokugawa's collapse was imminent. Monster Company wouldn't join the city's bloodbath, but they'd certainly seize the Fountain as new assets.
First step: verify the water still worked.
A business trip on company expense—disguised as a vacation.
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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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