Cyberpunk: Monster Hunter of Night City

Westbrook's Japantown—a blend of Las Vegas and Kabukicho—serves as the city's entertainment district, a dazzling money pit. The exteriors of towering buildings are adorned with massive billboards, broadcasting eye-catching advertisements around the clock.

Throughout the streets, brilliant holographic projections create fantastical scenes, constantly enticing passersby to seek pleasure. This place overwhelms with unparalleled extravagance, making you forget time and, more importantly, how much money you've spent.

Late at night.

In a small plaza outside a Turbo convenience store in Japantown, under the deep blue neon lights.

Cyberpunk mercenaries, having completed their missions, gathered as usual, drinking 0-additive special brew beer bought from the convenience store and eating synthetic grilled meat from the Full Foods Factory at the hot food stall.

They exchanged the latest happenings in Night City, with one boasting about high-grade cyberware installations and another flaunting earnings from tonight's job.

In a small open space in the crowd, cheers and laughter erupted occasionally.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, a bearded man in a punk-style open-chest vest and black sunglasses performed tricks and acrobatics with his long cybernetic arm. His humorous movements, combined with lewd body language, provided stress relief and relaxation for Cyberpunks who, despite completing missions, remained on edge.

Behind the crowd, a tall, burly Black man with a golden pompadour haircut injected an immunosuppressant targeting cybernetic nerve stimulation into his arm. Feeling the burning nerve pain recede, he sighed in relief.

Beside him sat a petite young woman with a smooth, delicate face, black stripe patterns resembling cat whiskers on her cute cheeks.

The girl wore a pink sleeveless jacket over a black bodysuit; under the blue light, her fluffy black short hair appeared slightly pink. She gazed at the lively crowd, her beautiful pink eyes shimmering with neon textures.

Sasha took a sip of a spicy drink, glanced at Pila clowning around, then turned to her leader, Mann, speaking with a helpless tone:

"Mann, those Gorilla Arms are too much of a burden; you can't undergo more cyberware implants for a while."

"I know, I know, Sasha. Just one more projectile launcher, then I'll stop," Mann replied perfunctorily.

His principle was to install any cyberware that made him stronger. Their mercenary squad had just made a name in Night City, receiving more Delegation missions and higher commissions.

Well-paid commissions meant greater danger. Mann knew he had to quickly improve his strength and arm himself, responsible for the team members' lives.

Cyberpunk mercenaries, once they start implanting cyberware, can't stop. They take missions, use earnings for advanced cyberware, take more dangerous jobs, earn more, and continue upgrading cyberware for powerful combat, in an endless cycle.

Until one day, they die by someone else's gun, or become cyberpsychotic, dying by the Violent Crime Mobile Team's gun.

Death is the destined fate of all life, and Cyberpunks are the closest to death. A group of edge runners walks on the brink of death daily.

Sasha shook her head, her fluffy hair bouncing resiliently. She knew Mann's temperament and couldn't dissuade him. Currently, she was just a hacker who recently joined the Mann Squad.

However,

"I should tell Dorio about Mann's condition and ask her to watch him."

Thinking of Mann's girlfriend, Dorio, Sasha blinked her pretty eyes, looking around but not seeing the robust woman whose physique rivaled Mann's. Nor did she see Rebecca, usually the most boisterous, which was strange, as she had been with her in the car.

"Hey, Mann, where did Dorio and Rebecca go? I don't see them," Sasha nudged her leader with her elbow.

"Rebecca saw in a prehistoric magazine that sleeping more makes you taller, so after we got out, Falco took her home. Dorio, worried, went too," Mann's expression was subtle. He didn't know what to say about the young girl serving as a team combatant. Wild and reckless when shooting, but sometimes childlike, though she looked like a child.

"Beep, Gloria Martinez sent a message communication."

"Hmm?" Mann was startled, not expecting a message now.

His consciousness, or brainwaves, opened the communication through his neural network connected by a brain-computer interface.

A virtual subtitle projected within his optical implant's field of vision.

"Gloria: Mann, are you free? I have a job needing you."

"Mann: Girl, since when are you a middleman?!"

"Gloria: The client is next to me, a young man from who knows where, but he knows I sell you cyberware and firearms."

"Mann:! I haven't told anyone about you. Need me to handle him?"

"Gloria: No, he feels mysterious and hard to deal with."

"Gloria: Will you take his job? He wants to meet now."

"Gloria: He said if you're worried about danger, you can set the meeting location, but only within Santo Domingo."

"Gloria: He also mentioned, do you have a netrunner named Sasha on your team? If you accept, bring her."

"Mann:?! I'm curious about this client's identity. I accept; isn't that how mercenaries earn? Meeting at Coronado Farm in Santo Domingo. Exact location sent. We'll be there in an hour."

Mann ended the communication, paused, then walked to the nearby car.

"Let's go, Sasha, call Pila too, we have a job."

"Understood, Mann."

In the car, Mann drove, Sasha was in the passenger seat, and Pila was in the back. Like his sister Rebecca, he was a handful, constantly harassing Sasha in front.

"Sasha, what do you think of me? Want to go out?"

"Or come to my place for a Super Dream. I've got an exciting one; watching it together will be thrilling."

"So annoying."

In the passenger seat, Sasha closed her eyes, arms crossed over her chest, accentuating her full bosom. She considered giving the crude bearded man in the back a lesson.

Cyberpsychosis? No, too harsh, he's a teammate. Maybe a cyberware malfunction, full-body electrotherapy.

But Mann's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Alright, Pila, quiet down. This job's different. Listen to me." Mann said, holding the wheel.

The leader had authority. Pila stopped, and Sasha opened her eyes.

Once the car was quiet, Mann continued: "The client came through a supplier. They know about Sasha being our hacker."

"Huh?"

Sasha looked at Mann, confused. Though she and Mann knew each other and collaborated often, she joined after today.

Who is this client? How do they know such accurate information?

"I set the meeting at the base. Sasha, scan the client via the outdoor camera. Biological signals, cyberware models—you'll find clues."

🛸EXTRA CHAPTER IS AVAILABLE IN PATREON 🗿

patreon.com/Gho_

patreon.com/Gho_

https://www.patreon.com/Gho_?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator