Cyberpunk: From Dogville to Legend

Chapter 286 One Hundred Years of Solitude (Part 1)

What is a hundred years of loneliness like?
No one can describe it, but Mann has the right to speak.

"Did you experience any discomfort after your prosthetic body was removed?"

Upon hearing the woman's question, the burly man with lifeless eyes and a hideous body covered in scars shook his head listlessly.

After the intense mental anguish, all the physical sensations that had been troubling me disappeared…

Perhaps "empty shell" is the most appropriate word to describe it.

Mann had never been to this place before. The tidy building and the empty lobby, apart from the Terrorist Mobile Unit (TMS) signs that were everywhere, led Mann to believe that this was just an unmanned office set up by the NCPD.

It's not surprising that a large number of shell companies occupy real estate in Night City.

“The NCPD has no jurisdiction over us.”

Melissa looks completely different when she's not wearing the Terrorist Mobile Squad uniform; it's hard to connect her face with that of a cyber madwoman with a mantis dagger stuck in her arm.

Her sly smile seemed to read Mann's mind as she pressed the floor button and said with a grin.

Mann seemed to dislike being spoken to in an overly friendly tone. His street-smart principles told him that the more amiable a guy was, the more careful he should be—but when he saw his patched-up, crippled body, that idea became laughable.

Aside from street cleaners, probably no one would be interested in me.

"Oh, you don't seem like you want to talk much, huh?"

Melissa moved closer, only to be met with Mann subtly retreating.

The woman's eyes and tone of voice were completely at odds; from the moment they entered the building together, she had been looking at him with a calculating gaze.

Mann wasn't concerned with those things; he was preoccupied with what Melissa meant by "getting what he wanted."
My body can no longer support any prosthetics.

Fragile.

This was Mann's first feeling after realizing that he wasn't so special after all.

why?
On the overpass, the sight of that knife-wielding figure drove him, already suffering from cyberbullying, to madness. Was it truly fate?

Mann had little left: his lover in this city, his own shattered dreams like fireworks, and nothing else…

The floor has arrived.

Melissa, however, showed no intention of going down. Instead, she placed her hands in front of her, turned around, and gently leaned against the side.

“It wasn’t supposed to be your turn, Mann.”

Melissa's words immediately caught Mann's attention. Melissa seemed to have grasped a clear angle, and she had a look of "I've caught you red-handed" on her face. "Sure enough, guys like you who get lost in the world after putting on a little bit of trash think you're so special."

The flames flickered, casting an eerie glow on half of Melissa's face.

"bring it on."

Mann looked at the lit cigarette Melissa offered him, the clean, round filter still bearing a faint lipstick stain. He reached into Melissa's hand, took a new cigarette, and lit it himself.

Melissa just watched and chuckled.

"Your partner will be very pleased that you are such a gentleman."

At this point, Mann became calmer.

As Melissa said, he was dressed in junk, perhaps he himself was a piece of junk made of flesh and blood, and the Terrorist Mobile Unit would always have a reason to come after him, that's what he thought.

"Melissa, I'm not here to listen to your nonsense. I want to know how to become stronger, what kind of methods your Terrorist Mobile Unit has, and why me—"

Almost without thinking, Melissa continued Mann's question, replying, "Because we suffered heavy losses, because you were able to use the prototype of that military technology, S.A.W.S ...

Mann found this reason acceptable.

Melissa took a drag on her cigarette. "Regarding your crimes against our Terrorist Mobile Unit, we actually planned to transfer you to prison and then find some time to slowly grind down your nerves, so that you would consider going crazy as a normal part of your behavior."

"But we don't have time."

"This city is undoubtedly fragile, including its people. Their spirits are cheaper than the material of a nightclub glass. A little bit of prosthetics is enough to drive them crazy. We would usually riddle them with bullets like that... So by comparison, a guy like you isn't unusable."

Finally, the answer is about to be revealed...

Mann felt Melissa's smoke almost hitting his face, which was offensive, but he knew Melissa could tear him to pieces in a second.

"Believe me, once you know how you're going to be used... you'll be more than happy if we put you in jail."

"So before you walk out of this door, I have to ask you, is becoming stronger really that important to you?"

This is a funny question.

Mann let out several strange laughs without realizing it. "Human rights? It's hard to believe that you bunch of scum even care about human rights. What if I back out now?"

Melissa crossed her arms.

"of course can."

"But we have the right to kill you at any time if you are accused of leaking important company secrets or attacking NCPD agents."

Melissa looked at Mann; she didn't mind him doing it now.

Although she was a qualified madwoman, at least the lives of those terrorist mobile teams who went on missions with her were attributed to her.

"Zzz..."

Mann squinted, the cigarette tip making a soft burning sound, as if he was hesitating.

Damn it, when Cyber's psychotic episodes flared up, Mann couldn't find Dorio's shadow in that arid desert. How he longed to be comforted by her when he was weak, to be pulled out of the quagmire of his mind by her—but when his dream was about to be lost, Dorio's eyes just wouldn't leave his mind.

He still has hope.

How long do you think you can survive in Night City?

Melissa spoke her mind.

Like those salespeople in advertisements who use shrill voices to promote their company's products, trying their best to keep customers with them.

Furthermore, if a deal falls through, goodwill is lost; if there's defamation or breach of contract midway, the company will take the most drastic measures to recover its losses. Therefore—

Mann stubbed out his cigarette.

The Night City mercenary, now smaller than his former muscular self, reached out and pressed the elevator door open button.

"There is no need to answer these questions."

"I'm here, you have to do as you say."

Melissa was stunned for a moment, and by the time she came to her senses, Mann was already standing in the empty corridor.

Mann glanced to the left and right a few times.

The doors, spaced almost uniformly, didn't look like something you'd expect from a company office. Mercenaries in Night City involved in illegal activities had all been in jail, so the oppressive atmosphere and faint sounds emanating from here were no different from those in other places.

If I had to say something, it's just that it looks respectable on the outside.

Which room should I go to?

Mann got straight to the point.

Melissa looked at the cute guy. "Don't you want to say a few more words now, Mann? You won't have the chance to speak later—the treatment provided by the Terrorist Mobile Squad makes it difficult for you to have the right to speak."

say?

Mann had anticipated that his treatment would be lengthy, but the fact that he hadn't spoken for a long time bothered him.

then--

How long will I need treatment?

Melissa, who was leading the way, stopped and tapped her chin, as if she was thinking about how to answer the question.

"one day?"

"Two days?"

Melissa felt that almost no member of the Terrorist Mobile Unit would remember such a thing, including herself, since "it really didn't last long."

But such an answer does seem a bit like deceiving Mann. Melissa still wants to respect the other party's wishes. Yes, that's right. Although the madman speaks without thinking, the Terrorist Mobile Unit still needs to follow the rule that newcomers should be mentored by veterans.

"It will be a long time."

Melissa suddenly turned around, her face showing an excited expression, which was very strange, as if her expression was often out of control.

"Think of Mann, a world without cold or hunger, sitting quietly by himself, playing games with himself, that must be really interesting!"

game…

Mann, who lost his prosthetic body, is a normal person.

He finally understood how the squad felt when they spoke to him…

Well, although Melissa's words were rambling, at least she gave Mann a clue: the treatment time might be calculated in days. Therefore, Mann filtered out the part about her strange smile and the rest of her speech as a dream brought on by her unconsciousness during treatment.

Melissa shook her head.

She didn't see fear on Mann's face.

Actually, I was joking to help Mann relax...

"What's the first step? What's the purpose of these floors? Do I need to meet with the other members of the Terrorist Mobile Unit?"

Melissa listened to Mann's questions from behind without showing the slightest impatience.

"Follow me for the first step. The first room is reserved just for you. Of course, theoretically you can go into any room that's empty, but this is a lucky number I've chosen for you. I hope you like it."

"This floor is specifically reserved for partners who use acceleration prosthetics; it's a warm and comfortable place to live..."

Melissa's voice trailed off as she spoke, and she tiptoed toward room number three on the side, like a mischievous little devil about to play a Halloween prank.

suddenly!

She reached out and patted the door.

"boom!"

The sound was almost like an explosion, and Melissa quickly moved away. It seemed as if a machine was crashing behind the door, and the door itself could be seen trembling slightly.

The door looks like it's made of solid materials... but the people inside are just wasting their time.

"Fuck you, Melissa!"

"Bitch—"

Someone inside was shouting and cursing at the top of their lungs!

Mann's eyes were strange.

Melissa pursed her lips. "Your neighbor has a bit of a weird temper, of course... but when he's working, he's a very cute kid. It's just that he has to have an electrode inserted into his brain. It's an old problem that the team doctor can't cure."

She stood next to Gate One and said, “You don’t need to see any superiors or officers.”

Melissa seemed to have had enough of the jokes. Standing by the door, she looked like the perfect training instructor for the Terrorist Mobile Squad. "Mann, if you really want to become stronger, then go into this room. Don't ask who's in there or what they're doing."

"I have satisfied your curiosity."

"We will give you any prosthetic body that belongs to you, and even stronger ones. We will also equip you with the latest optimized version of the military prototype S.A.W.S ...

As Mann looked into Melissa's eyes, the dying embers of his weak will began to burn brighter.

Melissa turned her head away coldly. "The condition is, hold on, Mann."

"See you in a few days."

A few days later, Melissa said this very slowly.

Mann stared at the dark doorway, devoid of any light. What was it for? Who was inside? Standing at the doorway, he had no idea. He could only assume that there were a few doctors inside, holding his beloved prosthetic body, using some special method to restore his full strength.

嗏

Mann hesitated, wanting to glean other information from Melissa's serious expression.

Melissa's gaze, which had been fixed on the empty space, suddenly shifted to Mann's face.

"Don't hesitate!"

Her delicate, womanly arm possessed tremendous strength, and she shoved Mann inside!

Caught off guard, Mann's momentum caused him to crash into the ground after rushing in!

The last vestiges of his cyberpunk fighting spirit compelled him to quickly look up and survey his surroundings, but the pitch-black room seemed to be completely empty.

"clatter--"

When the footsteps sounded, Mann immediately tensed up and instinctively asked, "Who is it?"

The footsteps stopped abruptly; his prosthetic eye had long been downgraded to a low-end version and no longer had night vision.

In some people's eyes, however, in this fluorescent green world, lies a pitiful creature with a terrified expression and hideous scars...

Like demons emerging from the shadows, they pounced on Mann, who was as fleshy as flesh, listening to his screams of fear.

……

"Huh...huh...huh..."

Mann's breathing sounded extremely heavy under the oxygen mask. He lifted his eyelids slightly, and the world was no longer the dark room he had just been in.

it hurts…

It felt like Mann's numb nerves had only reacted in a past life.

His shaky vision finally began to clear with each increasingly intense breath. The gray-white roof, as if made of some kind of steel, stretched out evenly with slits dividing it into squares.

His eyes darted downwards, his thick arm connected to a syringe, green inhibitor flowing into his body through transparent lines—

and many more!

arm?

Mann let out a muffled groan; his arm seemed to... have recovered?

So he tried to control the prosthetic body, his heart pounding in his chest—

Card wipe!

With a beautiful mechanical sound, the silver barrel of the gorilla arm and projectile launching system deformed in a second!
Mann suddenly stood up, looking down at the enhanced muscle lines and abundant blood and energy on his body, all of which resembled the state before his dream shattered.

"Ha ha…"

Mann was stunned for a long time, then suddenly burst into laughter.

The trauma team determined that he could no longer have a prosthetic body, so what about him now?

"I am the most special one—"

Mann muttered to himself.

"No, you are not."

Mann looked up abruptly and appeared in front of the speaker in the next second!
[Seanweatherthan - Apex Point]!
Mann made his move without hesitation, thinking victory was assured, but his opponent seemed to be like a repulsive polar magnet, unable to touch him at all.

"Melissa?!"

Mann's forehead was covered in cold sweat, his hands resting on his knees. He was horrified that he had almost had a seizure while his prosthetic body was being fitted...

The terrorist mobile unit will definitely judge me based on my performance, and I absolutely cannot let them down.

Cyberpsychosis cannot be suppressed simply by thinking about it.

"You just tried to kill me, didn't you?"

Melissa leaned down to ask.

Mann mechanically raised his head, his face distorted by fear and powerlessness, making him look terrifying.

Melissa's face was like a distorted screen; in Mann's eyes, her image was beginning to change!
Mann stared at the guy's face for a long time, then—

His expression instantly turned ferocious!

"You're selling counterfeit goods?!..."

Melissa's face became a blurry flat image, and under Mann's gaze, she snapped her fingers!
Steel railings rose from the ground, blocking her outside. When Mann was caught off guard, that face turned into the most familiar one.

"How come it's you..."

Mann's mind was in turmoil, and he could only watch helplessly as the young man drew his knife from his waist.

"Lin Yue!"

But the voice that guy was speaking was still Melissa's.

"Mann, welcome to the [Digital Prison]!"

"Learn how to get through this yourself; it might take you some time..."

"a hundred years."

……

……

　[Digital Prison]: The Cyberpunk rulebook mentions that the Terrorist Squad treats the cyber lunatics captured from Night City by inducing their brains to enter a dream world. This dream lasts for an extremely long time, causing the cyber lunatics to experience a century of imprisonment within a hallucinatory state, thus healing themselves in a perverse way. (See the rulebook and the content by YouTuber Superconducting Noodles for details.)
　　
　
(End of this chapter)