Monster Corp really was short on manpower. To have a professional mercenary, a ninja assassin no less, voluntarily join the company for a salary of 2,500—how could Li Pan possibly refuse?
And besides, in a roundabout way, this also meant keeping Taisui's so-called "Apostle" under control, didn't it?
Thus, following Yamazaki Ayato, Shiranui Kiri registered as a temp worker, number 0791035.
After experiencing the wonders of the archive cabinet, Shiranui Kiri was astonished.
"Nani! The Sealing Mark—it's just been undone like that!?"
"Sealing Mark?"
Li Pan turned to glance at her.
"Oh, that thing on your lower belly? Yeah. Any ordinary magic, seals, or cybernetic implants get wiped out.
You can always reinstall them afterward, but they'll be erased again at the next re-archive. Some cross-world energies don't get fully purged, though.
By the way, what about the Flesh-Eye parasite in you? Still there?"
Shiranui Kiri clutched her abdomen, shocked.
"It's back! My Yin-Yuan is moving again! It really came back… Wait—you can actually see the Sealing Mark?"
Li Pan shrugged.
"I see all kinds of weird crap. That's called being gifted. Didn't you just experience it several times?
By the way, what exactly is the Sealing Mark? And Yin-Yuan? Don't you ninjas use chakra?"
"Chakra? That's just manga nonsense. Yin-Yuan—the essence of Yin and Yang—is the source of life, the foundation of the Onmyō Transformation Arts.
It's a forbidden secret of the Onmyō Clan, transforming Yin and Yang essence into qi to perform mysterious ninjutsu.
For example—Ninja Art, Water Style: Manipulation of Flowing Springs!"
Kiri's hands blurred into several seals. At once, the spilled coffee on the table and floor rippled like slime, rolled backward, and poured itself neatly back into the cup.
Oh… that'd be pretty handy for mopping the floor.
"Wait, earlier you wanted to use that to choke me to death, didn't you? Oi—again!?"
Suddenly, Kiri lunged forward, pushing Li Pan down onto the desk and straddling his waist.
"Hey! What are you doing? Again? It's almost quitting time…"
"Come on! Enough chatter! That's healed now—perfect for cultivation!"
"That part—oh, damn! It is healed… I guess, theoretically, rollback archives would restore it…"
"Hurry! Don't just stand there! Give me more, as much as possible! The first time is critical for rebuilding my foundation. I need as much Yang-Yuan infusion as possible to merge Yin and Yang, to boost my ninja power!"
"What the hell! How did I end up assisting your cultivation? Show some respect to your superior!"
"Ahahaha! So strong, so amazing! Your Yang-Yuan is incredible—so pure, so blazing hot! Give me more!"
And so Li Pan ended up doing two extra hours of "overtime" before Kiri finally let him go, retreating to digest the Yang-Yuan she had collected and cultivate her Onmyō Transformation Arts.
Li Pan, having observed the whole process, studied it carefully. Combined with the cultivation basics he had learned from Li Qingyun, he gained some insights.
Kiri's Yin-Yang cultivation was somewhat similar to his own refinement of qi—perhaps even a branch of qi-arts.
Her Yin-Yang essence also resided below the navel, circulating through the meridians in unique patterns, condensing into a visible flame-like qi, a white glow burning like a candle.
Her Water-Style ninjutsu used special seals to channel this qi onto liquids, altering their form—into water blades, or strangling arms, for instance.
But The Onmyō Transformation Arts was clearly incomplete—or perhaps never truly a high-level cultivation method at all.
The technique offered no feedback, no reciprocity. It was purely one-sided extraction—leeching Yang-Yuan to fuel Kiri's own growth.
Honestly, if she had used this on an ordinary man, he'd have been drained into a husk—dead on the spot.
But Li Pan cultivated Nine Yin Refinement, training both body and qi. His constitution was robust enough to endure. Plus, with the reserves he carried from his "new bride's" infusion, he was far above Kiri's level. Feeding her a bit wasn't a problem.
Still, The Nine Yin Scripture had no dual-cultivation methods. When practicing with Orange, who also didn't know such arts, both had gained some benefit. But with a specialist like Kiri, she simply sucked all his Yin and Yang dry. Li Pan got nothing out of it—aside from fleeting pleasure.
No wonder people called dual cultivation a heretical path—those ignorant of it were just used up like expendable medicine… Wait. Did that mean Kiri was treating him as a substitute for Taisui?
Damn it. With spiritual qi so scarce on Earth 0791, and constant fights forcing him to burn through what little he had, if Kiri kept leeching him like this, when the hell would he ever break through to the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth refinements and beyond?
Short on money, short on qi, with a growing pack of hungry subordinates… Li Pan's head throbbed with pain.
Forget it. Cultivating in a cyberpunk world was already tough. No use rushing. Better to focus on making money.
Now came the matter of 0113's proposal for handling that 35 million.
The most straightforward way was to report it through company accounts—a safe channel, but the least profitable. After all, buying goods from other worlds carried heavy tariffs—the more luxurious or advanced, the higher the taxes.
And there was another issue. If Li Pan used the money to buy a house or car, no problem. But if he bought weapons, war machines, SMS mechs… then went out on missions, and someone noticed, "Hey, those are registered under Monster Corp! Quick, call the cops!"—what then?
As for laundering money through some cross-border account? Forget it.
Sure, Li Pan had 18 million in dirty cash lying around. He could pay someone to wash it for him, but if he did it himself and got caught, that would be a whole different crime.
Besides, did he really think 18 million was enough to play in the great interdimensional power struggles? Wars between megacorps burned through hundreds of billions. 18 million was pocket change.
For now, kids like him should just stick to fighting in Night City's sandbox. He could think bigger once he grew stronger.
So Li Pan messaged K, asking if she had a trustworthy private broker to recommend.
K hesitated, then replied:
"This deal is better not run through Night Konzern channels."
Li Pan realized she thought he was talking about the 7 million from his "blood sale." So he clarified:
"It's for a colleague of mine—an otherworld investor. They want to put money into 0791, and asked me to find a reliable private fund."
Hearing it was outside investment, K immediately tried to rope in her own group's finance department. She forwarded him an electronic business card.
The vampires' corporations prided themselves on 24-hour operations. With K's referral, Li Pan could handle business right after work.
Among the great "multiversal companies," each controlled one or even dozens of planes. In the broader market, each had their strengths and weaknesses.
Night Konzern's greatest strength wasn't biotech or cybernetics. It was finance. The Konzern had started as a banking syndicate, the Camarilla Bank Alliance, dominating through debt, contracts, and usury.
Unlike Takamagahara, which bound its corporate lords with samurai, vassals, and culture, the Night Konzern controlled others through shares, credit, and debt.
To defy their contracts was to invite ruin. Just look at Huang Dahe's fate. Vampires indeed—they lived up to the name.
K's referral was an investment manager at Camarilla Bank in Night City, from the Licinius Clan. Her name was Licinia, but she went by "L." A silver-haired, gray-eyed beauty, and K's close friend. They had worked together for over two centuries—K in the field, L in finance. Trusted allies.
Though the Licinius Clan wasn't powerful on Earth 0791, across the multiverse they were financial titans. The clan's prince was one of the Camarilla's three heads, equal in power to Julius himself.
With such a background, L was a consummate professional. She immediately understood what Li Pan wanted: tax shelter.
Her solution: invest the 35 million through Camarilla's custom "Night City Development and Investment Fund." Li Pan would then receive monthly returns—about 720,000 after taxes. All paperwork above board, no risk of system flagging.
In practice, this meant he'd pocket about 26 million after three years.
Of course, the "fund" itself didn't really exist. It was just a tailored loophole using 0791's reconstruction tax breaks. But who cared?
And with K's referral, L even set him up with a shell company: Panlong Construction Ltd. Registered capital: 35 million. Camarilla Bank immediately extended him a 10 million low-interest loan at 3.6% annual rate.
As a registered small business, he could also bid for Konzern contracts, get tax breaks, and tap into revolving credit. If he ever needed a lump-sum transfer, L could arrange an internal fund "conversion" through the bank.
All in all, it was a perfectly workable setup. Li Pan signed the papers, sent them to 0113, and everything was ready. In three years, he'd be receiving clean, monthly income.
Walking out of the bank, Li Pan now had not only his Monster Corp manager title, but also Panlong Construction's. His shell company was officially alive.
When he got home, Orange had already returned. She was sprawled naked on the couch, her spine implanted with a neural exoskeleton, looking like a monstrous iron centipede.
"Damn. That's intense. Didn't you take a shot?"
Li Pan handed her a cold beer, eyeing the suppressor syringes on the table.
"Thanks…" Orange's forehead was slick with sweat, her whole body trembling.
"The spinal graft was gene-customized. My immune rejection's too high. I had to use external metal bones to stabilize it as an exosuit.
Nnngh… it's fine. I'll get used to it…"
She gritted her teeth, gulped the beer, refusing the suppressors—they were expensive and could cause psychosis with overuse.
This woman was truly desperate. But in Night City, ordinary people without implants had no place walking the dark streets.
"So you're really going full cyberpunk, chasing quick blood-money jobs, huh."
Orange didn't deny it. Her old NCHC salary of 20,000 a month wasn't enough. Signing papers upstairs could move millions, while at the bottom people had to gamble with their lives.
Li Pan thought for a moment, then passed her a few electronic business cards.
"The Dawn Society approached Yamato. They want his skills and OS. Offered to pay off his penalties and even send him to space. If you want, you could work with them—they've got influence, even Night Konzern respects them.
Another option: my companies. Monster Corp and Panlong Construction. Join Panlong as my partner, 20,000 salary, flexible hours. Yamato I'll bring into Monster Corp for shelter. I'll handle the Konzern debt myself. Whatever you choose, I'll support you."
Orange turned, smiling faintly, and extended her hand.
"If I trusted corporations again, I'd be an idiot.
But I trust you. Pleased to work with you, President Li."
"Oh, then I'll count on you, Secretary Orange."
"…Why a secretary?"
"What, you'd rather be president instead? That's fine too."
"You… sigh. Whatever. Just… rub my back. It hurts like hell."
"Oh! Leave it to me! I just mastered the Forty-Eight Hands Massage Technique. Very powerful!"
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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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