Thus, Li Pan went to the PROSTHESIS cybernetic maintenance center in the city core. In addition to replacing his eye, this time he also got his body checked.
By now his skin had mostly grown back. The checkup didn't show any major issues, but the coloring was still blotchy, with some scabs not fully shed yet—ugly to look at—so he just replaced a few pieces of ceramic armor plates that had been cracked by gunfire.
These days, medical technology was truly advanced. Full-body reconstruction, any kind of implant could be swapped out. Eyes, cybernetic eyes, retinas—those were trivial to replace. As long as you had the money and stored them properly, you could reimplant whatever organ you'd taken out at any time.
And to match the performance of this sixth-grade cybernetic eye, Li Pan also bought specialized TCA/OCA—Temporal Core Augmentation and Occipital Core Augmentation neural implants.
For the temporal lobe, a cheaper grade-four unit was enough, just to load an ECCM electronic counter-countermeasure module. But the occipital lobe visual support couldn't just be grade-four—after all, this eye wasn't merely vision enhancement and projection. It contained an MMTCPR micro moving-target compression pulse radar, usually found in armed drones or smart missiles. Having one squeezed into an eyeball was nothing short of innovation.
So Li Pan gritted his teeth and purchased GEN's Gene Revolution Occipital Core Augmentation, a grade-five model specifically designed to process radar and visual signals and handle MMTCPR data. Thankfully, his Fuxi-15 chip was also grade-five; its computing power and memory barely supported such high-end gear, so he didn't need to upgrade further for now.
The grade-four ECCM counter unit was only ¥48,888, but GEN's grade-five OCA was insanely expensive: ¥688,888. And that wasn't even all—since GEN's implants were usually made for starship pilots linked to fleet radars, it required a custom software update to work with Mingzhi Optical's specialized eye. Even the cheapest basic service package on GEN's official site, just to calibrate compatibility, cost ¥125,000.
Li Pan had originally wanted to buy some extras—for instance, corporate sales drones often used temporal lobe enhancements to boost charisma and social skills, or implants that released specific pheromones to increase charm and persuasiveness, useful in both business negotiations and nightclubs.
But after browsing the catalog, he found those TCA modules started at hundreds of thousands, plus required paid add-ons. Too expensive. The current upgrade had already cost him ¥860,000. He muttered to himself: damn, I'm still too poor… sixth-grade augment support components really aren't something ordinary people can afford.
Still, credit where it's due—in a cyberpunk world, you got what you paid for.
After swapping his eye, Li Pan discovered the world was unimaginably clear. With a single focus he could see a couple screwing by a skyscraper window. He could delete and filter out cluttered neon signs and lighting effects, much like the Xingtian chip. It resisted optical interference and even tracked cloaking devices—truly top-tier optics.
When he switched on the radar mode, the dynamic capture radar's effect was even more intuitive: every model and trajectory of the airships flying across the sky popped out crystal-clear. Under OCA processing, he could even see the ripple of a fly's wingbeats.
No wonder that one-eyed bastard had gone toe-to-toe with him and cut through Gravity Hammer shrapnel. With vision this clear, it wasn't magic at all—it was tech. Way sharper than any "sixth sense."
Li Pan blinked to adapt and shut the radar down. The function was great, but activating it required firing up the OCA and consuming GEN nanobots. Refilling them cost five figures each time. Unaffordable. This was a last-resort trump card.
Leaving the implant shop, Li Pan stopped by JYHAD EQUIPMENT weapons store.
He didn't exactly lack gear, but at this point his Black Kite-91 and the Sword of Saint Catherine—both gifts from K—deserved professional maintenance. Wouldn't want them to break and piss her off.
So, under the clerk's recommendation, he had both items serviced. He bought sword oil and a charging scabbard for the Saint Catherine sword. The scabbard was actually a power battery designed for energy blades, attachable to belt or cybernetic ports, even usable for charging devices.
The Black Kite-91 got recoil upgrades, a new grade-five grip and barrel, and fine-tuned ballistics from a gunsmith—pushing it to about grade-4.5 overall. Stocked up on grade-four and grade-five ammo. Bill: another ¥40,000 gone.
Li Pan strolled around, enjoying himself. He even wandered into a motorcycle shop and nearly rode one straight out before snapping out of it: Damn it! I still have 160 million to earn! He shouted, forcing himself to leave.
Such was life in a consumerist society—desire everywhere. Even if you ignored fun and indulgence, just to upgrade combat ability there were endless things to spend on: implants, exotic melee weapons, specialty ammo, robots, androids, clones, synthetic beasts, SBS, SMS, even starships.
Money was never enough.
In the past, people relied on skill and effort. Now, fights were just money thrown against money.
Forget it—back to grinding gangs for cash.
But tonight seemed oddly peaceful. Li Pan stared at NCPA alerts and the news—no large-scale shootouts anywhere.
Weird. After losing that giant batch of weapons and the head of the East Castle heir being delivered to the bounty board, shouldn't there be a massive reaction?
Even stranger—K hadn't contacted him. What about the werewolf nest under the Opera House? She wasn't going to leave that alone… was she?
And Sky City was silent too. Eighteen's intel suggested Yamazaki and the ACA collectors were still there, partying for a whole day.
Even the Security Committee was unusually quiet. Li Pan had sent the Goldshine Society report to Division Three, yet nothing had been done. Even the scandalous chain of female suicides, once headline news, had vanished from media.
Seriously, what the hell was going on? Was everyone waiting for loan repayment day and too busy to fight?
He had spent ¥900,000 upgrading his gear to prepare for chaos. Now? Nothing.
With no leads and not wanting to stir trouble, Li Pan decided not to loiter outside in the cold.
Instead of heading back to his suburban apartment, he went to the Haunted Apartment in the commuter zone for the night. If another wild Bedsheet showed up, he could just hand it over to Teacher Xian for dissecting.
So he lay half-meditating, half-monitoring NCPA reports, one eye open.
Meanwhile, Li Qingyun was still grinding away…
Qingyun had grown much stronger. As Li Pan's alt in the Otherworldly Void Sea, he had no job or money worries. Just reading, training body and qi, frying fish, washing pots—studying secret techniques in peace, growing rapidly in power.
For instance, he no longer needed palm strikes to fry fish. He had mastered "Rolling Stones and Surging Waves" from the Nine Yin Divine Arts. Without lifting a hand, he could manifest his true form, spit a jet of water, and pulverize a fish monster.
He could even take the form of a massive black Candle Dragon—hundreds of feet long, human-headed serpent-bodied—surfing storms, diving into the sea, soaring through the sky. Way more fun than riding a motorcycle.
But his magic reserves were still limited. That form only lasted a quarter of an incense stick before collapsing, and he had to eat a Small Recovery Pill to restore qi. He still couldn't refine pills, draw talismans, or forge artifacts—just learning math, strangely enough.
Nothing much to say. Level-up grind. Occasionally Li Pan would dream-sync to update memories, but the gulf in power was too wide for the skills to carry over.
So Li Pan dropped it. He wasn't about to help scrub pots in dreams.
Back in reality—
"Citizen Li Pan, wages of ¥22,000 deposited. Loan repayment due: ¥8,291.43. Do you wish to make early payment?"
Thirty-thousand student loan, interest-free. Who'd repay that? With inflation over 3% across the multiverse, it was free money. No way he'd pay early.
"Confirming no early repayment. Next due installment: ¥13,542.37. Total outstanding debt: ¥290,000+. Next settlement: 15th of next month. Thank you for using the Public Safety System."
Great, monthly debt rose ¥5,000. Two grand for the haunted apartment rent, Emperor-620 vehicle fees, and rising food bills.
Panlong Construction's account was also down ¥300,000. First payment for utilities, waste, sewage, and fire safety at the new factory. Quarterly adjustments to follow, plus annual tax checks.
Still, subsidies for industrial development and Night Corp banking investment meant temporary tax breaks. One to two years with no business tax.
Even later, corporate tax was only 6–10%, depending on industry.
Not bad—but factoring bribes to the NCPA district bureau and the nearby Whirlpool Gang, hidden costs would be high.
And with Night Corp flooding the market with tax-free imported goods, local manufacturing was collapsing. Real industry just lost money.
But Panlong was only a shell company for laundering and stockpiling arms. Li Pan didn't care about profit—Orange could handle it. Download blueprints, hire a few people, fill the warehouse with weapons, keep the cashflow turning.
After all, the hardest million was always the first.
The next morning, Li Pan found Liu Heitu teaching Rama boxing in the old warehouse. Training bots, sandbags, wooden posts—turning the place into a dojo.
Not Baji yet, just basic long-fist forms. Rama, with his grade-4 cybernetics, didn't need horse stances. Liu repeated the forms, Rama copied diligently, if clumsily.
Li Pan, seeing the effort, didn't bother "stealing techniques." He already memorized a few Baji strikes from watching matches. With his grade-5 physique, a few punches and elbows would hit hard enough anyway.
Back in the office, A-Qi brought coffee.
"Boss, the Bottle is shouting again. Do you want to check?"
"It's probably yelling 'disaster' again because Rama got punched. As long as it doesn't split, ignore it."
Just as he was sipping coffee, the landline rang.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"I am Li Pan, General Manager of 0791001."
"Oh, it's you again. What now?"
"Night City has entered its 14th annihilation countdown. I have two hours to stop the disaster, or I'll initiate warehouse blackout and full employee record deletion."
"…Oh fuck?"
Before he could hang up, the phone rang again.
"Incoming call from HQ Business Department. Answer?"
"Keheheh."
A woman's voice:
"0791001, this is Business Cadre 01044 of Branch 01. HR has confirmed report 0791036: the Golden Buddha went out of control six hours ago, descent underway. Assigned by HQ manager, I am dispatched for business support. Require entry authorization."
Li Pan was speechless.
"What? Out of control six hours ago and you're only calling now? And why did 0791036 report to you instead of me?"
The woman paused.
"Daily logs and Mind-Echo updates are checked every morning. HR always confirms employee status first. What—you don't even know how to use the daily report system?"
Li Pan wiped cold sweat. "O-of course I know! Just joking to lighten the mood, haha!"
She paused again.
"My mission does not include stopping the Buddha's descent. If 0791 can't handle it, submit a support request."
Li Pan panicked. "Hey! I can handle it! Come see me handle it! …Wait, if you're not dealing with the Buddha, what are you here for?"
"To capture ACA collectors."
Click. She hung up. Authorization given.
Scratching his head, Li Pan tried to call Yamazaki to check the situation. The phone rang again.
"Incoming call from Security Bureau Division Three. Answer?"
"Keheheh!"
On the other end, Uncle Chen roared:
"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"…Depends. Which thing are you asking about?"
"SKY CITY!"
"Ohhh, that's not on me. That was ACA screwing up. You know those collectors—couldn't deliver."
Chen shouted, "I don't care about your corporate mess! If Sky City falls, I'll prosecute you myself!"
"What—falls?"
Li Pan rushed to the window. From this height he could see it: an aerial citadel breaching the clouds, wrapped in fire, drifting toward the city core.
Holy shit. They were really dropping a city. Even shattered, the wreckage would devastate Night City.
Two hours left to save the city.
Phone rang again.
"Ahahahaha!"
This time it was Fūma Kotarō.
"Boss, an old acquaintance of mine wishes to join the company. He asked me to introduce him over dinner. Would you be interested?"
Li Pan nearly choked.
"Are you kidding me?! Do you not see Sky City is FALLING?! Get your ass back here and help!"
Fūma chuckled,
"Alas, I am in Banshū now. It will be difficult to return in time."
"Banshū? Himeji Castle? Fuck! Fine, tonight then. Name a place in Night City. But I'm not paying!"
"As you wish. May fortune be with you."
Click.
Li Pan slammed the phone down.
"Everyone, we're going on a job! When it's done, dinner's on me!"
.
.
.
⚠️ 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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