Neon Dragons - A Cyberpunk Isekai LitRPG Story

"Alright, let's think this through..." I murmured, staring intently at the roster of Traits. In the realm of Neon Dragons, the choices would've been straightforward: [Hidden Wealth] and [Gunman]. No-brainers, really.

[Hidden Wealth] would have afforded me a solid cache of starting gear, while [Gunman] would have granted me the skills to wield it effectively. Then, I'd saunter off to the nearest scav hideouts, guns blazing, power-levelling my way through the early game like a bona-fide murder-hobo of yore.

Obviously, in the game, I would have only had one Trait to choose from, but getting a gun was not exactly the hardest thing in Neon Dragons, so [Gunman] would have been my primary choice.

But now? It wasn't so simple.

'Damn, it feels a lot different when it's your own life on the line, huh? My apologies to all the in-game avatars I've treated so recklessly over the years,' I found myself thinking, almost guilt-ridden for my past virtual indiscretions.

The stakes were drastically different when it was your own life dictating these choices.

Could I genuinely go out and commit multiple acts of violence, even if my targets were just scavs? Sure, this had been a video game scenario before, but now it was my one and only life on the line.

And let's not forget, Neon Dragons wasn’t exactly forgiving when it came to mistakes—no respawn function, no second chances. If you died, it was back to your last save point, and that was it.

Given the stakes, I could only assume this single life was all I had to work with now.

Sure, I'd fantasised about it—in a dark-humour kind of way—especially considering my landlord's inexplicable rent hikes. But those were just thoughts, idle musings, not genuine plans for real-world violence.

"Nope, I can't go down that path. That's just not me. Not Sera," I affirmed aloud, snapping myself back to the present.

'So, if the murder-hobo route is off the table, what's my next move?' I pondered, eyeing the list of Traits with renewed scrutiny.

[Polyglot] and [Undeniably Charismatic] were the standout choices for anyone looking to specialise in diplomacy, focusing more on dialogue than brute force.

Now, there were instant-translation implants available on the market, sure, but ones that offered the same range of language proficiency as the [Polyglot] Trait were prohibitively expensive. Besides, those implants wouldn’t let you write or speak in multiple languages, only understand them.

'Polyglot could open up so many doors for me, doors that might otherwise remain locked until I've invested years into expanding my skill set,' I contemplated as I earmarked [Polyglot] as a contender on my mental short-list.

As for [Undeniably Charismatic], it was the crown jewel for any diplomancer.

It had the power to unlock pathways that would normally be inaccessible until I’d earned more Notoriety.

But let's be real, at its core, this Trait was a shortcut, a way to bypass a fair amount of grind.

Its true potency, however, lay in its universal application. Whether I was dealing with corporate drones, scavs, operators, or netrunners, this Trait would make me inherently more likeable in any direct interaction.

So, the million-credit question: Did I want to be a full-blown diplomancer?

The answer was a qualified ‘no’.

Sure, it might be the least combat-centric route, but let's not forget we're talking about the Neon Dragons universe. Even if I wasn't planning on going full murder-hobo, there was no way around the fact that this new chapter in my life was going to be far more violent and chaotic than anything I’d experienced before.

Cyberpunk worlds are not your run-of-the-mill utopias, after all.

'I really need to look at something combat-oriented, or at least a Trait that gives me an edge in skills that can help me avoid combat when it’s not in my favour,' I thought, scanning the list of Traits again and mentally filtering out [Undeniably Charismatic] to narrow down my viable options.

The moment my eyes swept across the Trait list, [Hard To Kill] practically jumped off the screen, grabbing my attention as if it were a life preserver in a sea of options.

My recent, and less-than-enjoyable, dance with death in my dingy studio apartment had made it abundantly clear—I had no affection for pain or the grim reaper. This Trait promised a hefty 20% boost in resilience, which was a significant game-changer by any measure. Without a second thought, it claimed its rightful place on my shortlist.

I swiftly sidestepped [Masterful Expertise] and [On Target].

Though these Traits came with upgraded versions unlockable at Level 10, they were essentially bait. With my pitiful starting Attributes, taking the bait would mean squandering my initial Trait choice on what amounted to fool's gold.

Nope, not gonna happen!

Among the Skill-centric Traits, [Gunman] stood out like a diamond in the rough—or more like an armed mercenary in a field of librarians. Pun absolutely intended.

The value here was off the charts: Immediate access and a free boost in six unique Skills, all sweetened with a tantalising instant-reload ability.

However, the Trait came with a glaring asterisk—it required me to wield guns.

In Neo Avalis, firearms might be as easy to come by as knock-off designer bags, but let's not forget—I was a 15-year-old girl in a city that chews up naivety for breakfast. Packing heat out in the city would likely serve as a magnet for every ganger and scav in a three-block radius, doing more harm than good until I could truly master the Skill set.

Even with one Level in each of those Skills, I’d only be marginally better than a paper target at a shooting range, a far cry from becoming some teenage version of John Wick.

Yet, dismissing six free Skill Levels and an almost magical instant-reload ability felt like willingly passing up a winning lottery ticket. Ultimately, I still decided that [Gunman] had enough going for it to earn a spot on my increasingly exclusive shortlist.

Scrolling further down the Trait list, my eyes locked onto [Educated].

It was a solid pick for most players, allowing them to passively level up notoriously tedious Skills like Meditation. I mean, who wants to sit around contemplating their virtual navel when they could be out battling daemons or cybernetic criminals?

But for me, it was a different story.

With my dismal starting Attributes—take my Body score of -1, for instance—most of my Skills would hit their ceiling far too quickly. After all, in Neon Dragons, Attributes set the upper limits for Skills. So if my Body was languishing at -1, every Body-based Skill would be equally doomed, capping out at the same pathetic level.

As appealing as [Educated] might be for others, for me it was like putting premium fuel in a trashcan.

The next option on the list that caught my attention was [Killing Blow], the cheat code of every power gamer's dreams. With an uncanny knack for auto-targeting the most vulnerable spots, this Trait is the stuff of legends in the virtual realm; a cheat in every other.

But let's keep it real—this is my life now, not a kill-or-be-killed video game.

In this new reality, survival will always trump fatality. I don't need to deal a lethal blow with every jab or bullet; dodging trouble and living to see another day is triumph enough for me.

While [Killing Blow] dangles the tantalising promise of easier combat victories, it lacks the multifaceted utility that some of the other options provide.

Don't get me wrong, it was a killer Trait—quite literally—and almost too hard to resist. But in a world where every choice carries weight, I'd rather stock up on Traits that offer a wider range of applications, things that could help me in multiple aspects of my new life.

That being said, I wouldn't rule it out for future consideration. By the time I reached Level 10, I was pretty certain my life wouldn't have morphed into a peaceful suburban dream. By then, I might be craving a bit of that auto-aim magic.

But for now, it stayed on the "maybe later" pile.

Turning my attention to the last four contenders—[Hacker], [Ghost], [Brawler], and [Blademaster]—[Brawler] was an immediate no-go. Though mastering hand-to-hand combat was a skill I couldn't afford to ignore in this new life-that's-not-a-game, it wasn't the cornerstone I wanted to build my survival strategy on.

[Hacker], on the other hand, was a veritable treasure trove of possibilities.

Firstly, a way to gain experience without murdering anyone. Successfully defeating Daemons was the way that netrunners got their Character Experience, after all!

Secondly, the Quick-Hacks would be supremely useful right from the get-go. I could go with ‘Activate’, ‘Dispense’, ‘Deactivate’ and ‘Open’ for my Verbs, ‘Quick’ and ‘Quiet’ for my Adjectives and then ‘Device’ and ‘Cyber’ for my Subjects, to really get a tremendous head start altogether.

I could have vending machines dispense food and water without paying, open doors and deactivate cameras from a distance and similarly useful stuff.

Plus, the Trait offered me an alternative livelihood. Writing and selling Quick-Hack routines, ICEs, or other software could make me a pretty penny, assuming I got good enough at it.

Straight onto the shortlist, no questions asked.

[Ghost] also catapulted itself onto my shortlist with undeniable allure.

Do I even need to spell it out? Stealth is survival.

This Trait not only allowed me to plot courses that would keep me out of harm's way, but also offered a short-range dash that made me invisible, even if I dashed right through someone's line of sight! Talk about a cheat code for life; this Trait was nothing short of a survivalist's dream.

Shortlisted, without a doubt!

Last but not least, there was [Blademaster]—a Trait I'd originally dismissed without a second thought. However, given the baggage that came with [Gunman] for someone in my precarious situation, the allure of [Blademaster] became increasingly hard to ignore.

Let's face it: A knife is far more concealable than a gun, and in the shady corners of Neo Avalis, subtlety could be a lifesaver.

Beyond that, [Blades] and [Knives] were not just combat-focused Skills; they offered a wealth of utility. Take the [Sharpening] Perk from the [Knives] Skill, for example, which would empower me to refine any edge to its utmost sharpness.

In theory, I could turn even a humble sheet of paper into a makeshift and deadly weapon!

Okay, that might be a stretch, but you catch my drift.

[Blades] had its own set of game-changing Perks, like [Iaijutsu], the wet-dream of every weeb. This Perk would enable me to unsheathe a melee weapon and strike in one fluid, lightning-fast motion—perfect for catching those low-life scavs off guard in some dimly-lit alleyway. And that’s not even touching upon the Trait's five-times speed Ability, an invaluable "get out of jail free" card for when things go sideways!

And don't even get me started on the [Throwing] Skill. Seriously underrated by the player base, if you asked me. A knife hurled at quintuple speed? That's not just a weapon; that's a high-speed projectile with your name on it, bucko.

So, what had initially been a complete non-starter to me had, after a full sweep of my Trait options, catapulted itself onto my shortlist with undeniable gravitas. It was almost like an underdog making its way to the top—quietly yet decisively.

The full sweep of my options…? No. The elephant in the room, I have not addressed yet.

[Prodigy].

How could I overlook such a tantalising gem, especially given my current lacklustre Body Attribute?

In this game world, the Body Attribute governs an exhaustive array of derivative Skills, touching on just about every basic function a human would need. Walking, running, lifting—you name it, Body covers it.

The seductive allure of [Prodigy] lies in its potential to fast-track my progress in these areas, making life significantly smoother right from the get-go. But that's exactly why I'm hesitant to go down that path.

Let me elaborate: If [Prodigy] streamlines my growth in certain Skills, who’s to say I won’t slack off on the others? I've always had a penchant for the path of least resistance, often yielding to the siren call of shortcuts and easy fixes.

I know where that modus operandi led me in my previous life, and I have no desire to replay those mistakes.

So, as tempting as it might be to grab [Prodigy] by the horns, it's a risk I couldn’t afford.

The temptation to revert to old, counterproductive habits—to prioritise the "easy" over the "necessary"—was too great. The danger was in leaving the challenging but vital stuff to some mythical "future Sera" who never shows up to do the heavy lifting—that lazy bitch.

Perhaps at Level 10, after some time immersed in this new reality and fully committed to a reformed life philosophy, I could entertain the thought of selecting [Prodigy]. But until that point, where I've deeply embedded this new ethos into my muscle fibres, neurons, and very soul, [Prodigy] stayed off the shortlist. And that's final.

Alright, so here we were—my shortlist: [Blademaster], [Ghost], [Gunman], [Hacker], [Hard To Kill], and [Polyglot].

I chewed on the thought for a second, letting the names swirl around in my mind.

'I should probably go for a one-two punch of one combat-centric Trait and one that leans more toward utility or Skill development,' I reasoned, sifting through the options yet again like precious gems.

On the combat front, it's a face-off between [Blademaster], [Gunman], and [Hard To Kill]. And, much to my surprise, I was leaning hard toward [Blademaster].

Never thought I'd say that, but hear me out.

At this critical juncture, what I needed was something that packs an immediate punch while offering the potential for future growth.

[Gunman] had its merits, but it came with a glaring caveat: The necessity for guns, which, let's be honest, were far out of my immediate reach. And even if I somehow got my hands on one, I had zero experience pulling a trigger.

Sure, the System might guide me, but I'd still be stumbling around with entry-level Skills for a good while. The instant-reload? Nice to have, but it won't help me in an ambush scenario the way [Blademaster] can, with its super-speed stab, slicing or throwing action.

Then there's [Hard To Kill].

Ah, the allure of being unnecessarily hard to kill... But let's get real—20% of nothing is still nothing. My Body Attribute was less than stellar, and until I bulked that up, [Hard To Kill] just wouldn’t be able to shine. A hot pick for Level 10, no doubt, but for now, it was benched.

With a weighty sigh, I went over the three choices again, feeling the gravity of this moment.

No second chances, no mulligans.

'Blademaster, you're up. You're my combat pick,' I declared internally, giving voice to my decision in the secluded echo chamber of my mind.

I waited, listening for any twinge of regret.

None. It felt right. It felt like the choice I had to make.

Alright, one down, one to go. I've got my combat Trait in the bag; now I need to lock in something for utility or Skill enhancement.

The lineup? [Ghost], [Hacker], and [Polyglot].

First up, [Ghost].

I couldn’t deny that it felt like the gaming equivalent of a cheat code. The temptation to snap it up without a second thought was strong, yet I had to give a fair shake to the other options.

[Hacker] opened up a world of possibilities, quite literally.

The freedom it would grant me right out of the gate was nothing short of intoxicating. But the devil was in the details. I could acquire [Programming] and [Quick-Hacks] the old-fashioned way, and as for the actual Quick-Hack parts, they became relatively accessible once you've had a few creds rolling in.

The only real loss would be missing out on dual Quick-Hacking, a sweet deal for sure, but let's remember: To pull that off, I'd need a decked-out crown, and those bad boys didn’t come cheap. So, maybe it was a powerhouse in the later stages of the game, but not an immediate game-changer; not something I couldn’t live without.

Then, finally, there was [Polyglot], the odd one out.

I've always had this whimsical dream of being a linguistic chameleon, even in my past life, but I never followed through. Let's be honest, sprinkling in some anime Japanese doesn't count as being bilingual—sorry, y’alls.

But here's where [Polyglot] truly shined: It was like having an ear in every room.

The citizens of Neo Avalis were mostly monolingual, maybe bilingual at best, and those translator modules? Premium-priced gadgets usually reserved for diplomancers or professional translators.

What's more, [Polyglot] would literally unlock different sectors of the city for me.

Take the Japanese-inspired district—home to some of the top-tier cyberware you could find. If I couldn’t speak the language, I'd be paying through the nose for a middleman's services.

Beyond just commerce, language could also be a lifesaver—or a deal breaker—in gang territories as well. Neo Avalis wasn’t exactly a post-racial utopia, after all. If you couldn’t speak the local dialect, you were straight up asking to get ganked.

So where did that leave me? It was a tough call, no doubt, but the more I thought about it, the more layers of utility I saw in [Polyglot]. It was a Trait that not only opened doors but listened in on what's being said behind them as well.

Ah, but then there was still the enigma that was [Ghost].

The crème de la crème of Stealth Traits, an absolute daydream for every stealth-archer aficionado out there.

Did I identify as a stealth-archer type of player? Hell no.

But let's be real: When it's your life on the line, the ability to remain undetected is nothing short of a godsend. And don't even get me started on its active Ability—being able to effectively blink through people's lines of sight over short distances.

The sheer tactical advantage is ridiculous.

So, what's the million-cred question?

Would [Ghost] serve me better than [Polyglot] in the immediate now?

If I had even a sliver of information about Sera's current predicament, this choice would be a cakewalk. But as it stands, I'm entrenched in the unforgiving process of character initialization—no safety nets, no emergency exits. I dare not close the app, let alone budge from where I'm rooted.

Who's to say that the initialization window would stick around? It's a digital limbo I can not afford to exit.

Caught between these two intensely practical and game-changing Traits, I was at a standstill. A long, weighty sigh escaped my lips as frustration brewed within me.

"Why does this have to be so damn difficult?" I muttered under my breath, my gaze stubbornly toggling between the two Trait options.

Frustrating as it was, there was clearly only one real path forward: Let fate be the tiebreaker.

If fate saw fit to plant me here, then it can bloody well help me navigate the next steps too.

My mental cursor glid back to the apps section. I was careful to keep the G.E.M.A. app running in the background—closing it would be like throwing a match on a powder keg of missed opportunities.

Among the "Fun&Games" apps, one had previously caught my eye: A coin flip app.

I know, laughably simple.

'Alright, destiny, it's your move. Heads for [Ghost], tails for [Polyglot],' I resolved internally, taking a deep, steadying breath before letting the app work its digital magic.

The screen flickered for a moment as the virtual coin prepared to ascend into the simulated air. In that split second before I tapped to flip it, my breath caught in my throat like a live wire—tense, charged, ready to snap.

Up the coin went, spinning in an elegant, almost poetic arc against a nebulous backdrop.

One face of the coin was elegantly etched with artistic lettering and numerals, each stroke a masterpiece of digital calligraphy. The opposite side showcases a vivid, neon-hued depiction of a mythical dragon, its scales and wings meticulously detailed as if lifted from the pages of ancient folklore and reimagined in luminescent colour.

For that brief second, as it soared and turned in mid-air, every pixel felt like a galaxy, each frame a snapshot of destiny in motion. My eyes were riveted, almost as if the coin held the key to my life's unfolding narrative.

It was not just a piece of digital metal; it was a verdict from the universe itself.

The coin started its descent, rotating in slow-motion now as if it wanted to savour the tension, relishing in the anticipation. My heart pounded as though it wanted to leap out and influence the outcome.

Then, with an almost audible (to me, at least) "clink," the coin landed—proclaiming its choice.

The universe had spoken.

It was time to find out whether I would walk the path of the unseen [Ghost] or become a linguistically-gifted [Polyglot]. Either way, fate had set its course, and I was just along for the ride.

Focusing my eyes on the coin’s face, I saw its neon-coloured dragon emblem shining at me.

Tails.

'Polyglot it is. A tip of the hat to you, fate,' I thought to myself, swiftly navigating back to the G.E.M.A. app. With sure, decisive flicks of my mental cursor, I highlighted and locked in both [Blademaster] and [Polyglot], hovering for a moment over the 'Confirm Selection' button.

[— Warning —]

Initial Trait Selection is irreversible. Are you certain you want to finalise your starter Traits as: [Blademaster], [Polyglot]? y/n

I paused and took a final, soul-searching breath, feeling almost as if I was saying a mournful goodbye to friends I'd never see again, as I considered the other tantalising Traits I was passing up for now.

Then, with a sense of irrevocable commitment, I clicked 'Confirm' one more time.

The app momentarily froze, exhibiting the sort of twitchy, glitch-like hiccup that was practically a staple in every cyberpunk narrative, from film to video game and anime alike.

Almost instantly thereafter, my mind was flooded—an overwhelming torrent of new information and capabilities cascading into my consciousness like a data waterfall. My neural pathways lit up as if electrified.

First, the [Blademaster] Trait took hold.

In an instant, it was as if every nerve ending, every muscle fibre in my body knew the intimate dance of blades. The nuanced grip variations for holding a knife for slashing versus thrusting, the precise angle needed for maximum penetration when throwing—it was all there, encoded in me like instinct.

It wasn't as if I'd learned these things; it was as though my body had always known them but had just now remembered. It was ancient muscle memory, instantly recalled and as natural as breathing.

Then came [Polyglot], and for a second, my head spun so viciously that I teetered on the edge of blacking out. For this one instance, I thanked the lords above that I was in a wheelchair, because knowing my luck, I would have split my head open from the inevitable fall.

Languages flooded my mind in a torrential downpour.

Japanese, Mandarin, Russian, Arabic, and so many others—they weren't just words and grammar rules but entire cultural contexts, idioms, and tonal nuances. They seeped into my thoughts like ink in water, fast and irrevocable. I now understood these languages as if I were born speaking them, an instinctive part of my mental makeup.

I was left gasping, almost as if I'd sprinted a marathon.

"Wow," I managed to huff out between heavy breaths, still reeling from the cognitive overload, "I'm so glad I didn't go for [Gunman]. The sheer weight of tactical reloads, sight alignment, shooting stances and God knows what else would've probably knocked me out cold."

I chuckled at the thought, but there was a tinge of genuine relief. This is my new reality, wild and almost overwhelming, yet part of me now—just like [Blademaster] and [Polyglot].

A deluge of System notifications appeared before my eyes, informing me of all the different Skills I had unlocked.

[System]: [Blades] Skill unlocked.

[System]: [Knives] Skill unlocked.

[System]: [Throwing] Skill unlocked.

[System]: [Blades] has reached Level 1. This is the maximum Level available until your Reflex Attribute has improved to at least Level 2.

[System]: [Knives] has reached Level 1. This is the maximum Level available until your Reflex Attribute has improved to at least Level 2.

[System]: [Throwing] has reached Level 1. This is the maximum Level available until your Reflex Attribute has improved to at least Level 2.

Another mountain of notifications followed right behind, informing me of all the languages that I could now apparently speak, write and understand.

Almost immediately, I found myself muttering in a kaleidoscope of languages, each phrase fluid and perfect—from the lilting intonations of Italian to the harsh, guttural tones of German. I even tossed in a sentence or two of Swahili, just for the sheer joy of it.

Could you really blame me for that?

An ecstatic burst of laughter rippled through me, as unrestrained as a waterfall. "This is fucking awesome!" I exclaimed, still awestruck by the newfound depth and breadth of my capabilities.

The world felt different now, as if it had expanded in a thousand different directions all at once. And I couldn't help but revel in it.

"What's so 'fucking awesome,' sis?" a deeper-set voice suddenly interrupted, punctuating the air as the front door of our cramped apartment creaked open. The voice jolted me from my euphoric reverie, like a splash of cold water on my face.

My eyes darted instinctively toward the doorway, where I found a figure leaning against the frame, eyes glinting with a perplexing blend of relief and bewilderment. His crooked smile was almost infectious, inviting me into the familiarity of a past I couldn't fully recall.

It had to be my brother—Gabriel, or 'Gab' as I apparently called him…