Cyberpunk: Starting in 2071

Chapter 69 Blue Eyes, Customized Hero (7K Votes Requested)

"Us? There's not much to say. We're just like most of the fringe travelers you know, making money by taking on commissions."

Mercer explained simply, but Bruce shook his head and said, "No mercenary would go to the Vortex Gang's hideout to get me out without a commission."

"Well, so you'll treat me as a hero for fun? Just like you like to wear a suit and call yourself Night Shadow to fight criminals, I occasionally do similar things out of interest."

After Mercer finished speaking, Bruce nodded: "A hero driven by interest? That's an interesting way to put it."

He pulled a cigar from under the worktable in the room, put it in his mouth, and looked at the people in the room, saying, "Mind me?"

“This is your own territory, you don’t need to ask us.” After Mercer finished speaking, Bruce struggled to cut off his cigar with one arm, lit it, and put it in his mouth.

After taking a deep drag of his cigar, he said to Mercer, "Ask away. Ask anything you're curious about. I'll tell you everything I can, as long as it's about my savior."

"What do you usually do?" Rebecca asked curiously. She found a table and sat down, her short legs barely touching the ground, wobbling precariously.

"I work during the day, and come here at night to change into my uniform, put on my armor, and then drive out to see where I can be of use."

After Bruce finished speaking, he paused and said, "I left a backdoor in the NCPD's server. During the day, I would eavesdrop and collect criminal information, and at night, I would finish the work that they hadn't completed."

"So you're saying you're actually doing NCPD work?" V summarized.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Where's your equipment? You're going to deal with those criminals with just these simple prosthetics?" V was curious. What kind of equipment would a rich man like him use?
Bruce pointed to the wardrobe next to him: "You can open it and take a look."

V walked over without any hesitation and opened the cabinet. Inside was a set of dark, uniform-like items and a pure black half-face hood.

V picked up the uniform and looked at it: "It's just made of bulletproof plates and bulletproof fibers, nothing special, right?"

“The one next door.” After Bruce finished speaking, V opened the cabinet next to him.

Then, she couldn't help but exclaim "Wow!"

Inside the cabinet was a black exoskeleton suit—it didn't look very big, basically the size of an adult male.

But judging from the exoskeleton's armor and mechanical structure, this thing is definitely a rare and valuable item.

Mercer also became interested and went over to observe it carefully for a while: "Hydraulic strike enhancement, bionic leg enhancement, lithium battery powered, and also equipped with built-in weapon equipment."

"You also know about mechanics?" Bruce was somewhat surprised. In his opinion, a genius hacker like Mercer, who sounded quite young, shouldn't have much time to develop in multiple fields.

"I know a little bit. Your design incorporates a lot of military centaur armor concepts, so it's easy to judge many things. However, it's fine for dealing with ordinary thugs, but it's not enough against a tough guy like V."

After being criticized by Mercer, Bruce remained silent for a moment, then sighed: "Previously, this armor could be directly connected to my head and used together with the Sianwistan I was wearing. Now I've taken the Sianwistan off."

Bruce turned to look at V, his eyes filled with complex emotions, and said, "The more powerful S.A.S ...

V suddenly realized, and then excitedly said, "Does that mean... I can use this armor too? And this thing can be used in conjunction with Sianwistan?"

She turned to Mercer, a fawning smile on her face: "A, look at this thing."

"While this thing will enhance your strength, it will reduce your agility. Even if this exoskeleton is connected to your nerves, there will definitely be a delay. For someone like you with superb reflexes and immense physical strength, it won't be of much use."

Mercer said, then thought for a moment and added, "If you really want to wear something like this, you only have two options: one is to make the exoskeleton into a special kind of 'steel suit' as much as possible."

I will provide you with blessings without affecting your own actions as much as possible.

Another option would be a full-coverage, large-scale armor, maximizing both destructive and defensive capabilities. It relies on your superior physical strength to withstand the onslaught, and once your armor is finally breached, you simply unleash a second attack.

V stopped talking and just blinked at him, her purpose obvious.

Rebecca snorted and said, "What about me?"

"You're actually quite suited to this kind of exoskeleton-driven system. This centaur-inspired armor design is a perfect fit for the military's berserk operating system, making you a powerful, high-powered machine."

After Mercer finished speaking, he turned to Bruce and asked, "How much did you spend on this?"

"The basic materials cost 400,000 euros, but that's because I have connections to buy the parts directly. If you plan to start from scratch and make it yourself, it's hard to estimate."

After Bruce finished speaking, he paused and said, "But if you're interested in this, you can take it back and modify it. I'll give it to you."

"Damn, rich people are so generous!" V exclaimed.

Rebecca asked carefully, "So what do you plan to use?"

“I have a spare one at home, and,” Bruce suddenly looked agitated, rubbing his temples with one hand over his head, “I want to take a break for a while.”

"You're not thinking of retiring because of what we said, are you?" V suddenly said a little embarrassedly, "Actually, you're not that bad, I mean."

“No, no need to say anything.” Bruce rested his head on one hand, his brows furrowed deeply. “I think what you said makes a lot of sense. Why don’t I try investing in the NCPD to do something like that?”

V was stunned: "Don't tell me this is the first time you've thought about something like this."

“I’ve thought about it, but…” Bruce smacked his head hard with his hand for no apparent reason. “I don’t know, I just feel like I should fight those criminals, I should take revenge.”

He muttered to himself, "You know, I used to be very afraid of the dark, but my parents would always tell me, 'Don't be afraid, there's nothing there.'"

But the day I saw my parents robbed and murdered by some street thugs in an alley, I felt safe hiding in the dark.

From that moment on, I vowed to avenge this dying city and bring it the destruction and justice it deserved.
I will keep doing this, forever, until my heart stops beating.

Bruce seemed to have suddenly lost his focus; his eyes became somewhat vacant, and he kept repeating, "I should personally, no, I must personally bring justice to this city. I should do it, so I cannot give up yet."

He looked extremely pained, constantly pressing his head with the hand holding the cigar.

V started to get nervous: "Damn, is he going to get cyberbullying?"

“He’s almost completely removed from his prosthetic body. But something does seem off,” Mercer said.

Bruce looked up at him at that moment, his expression suddenly turning very serious. He forced himself to speak, despite his discomfort, and said, "Tell me, if you were in my shoes, what would you do?"

"What do you mean?" Mercer asked, seeking confirmation.

“I mean, if you want to bring justice to this city, would you choose to be like me, put on a suit, and fight crime at night?” Bruce asked.

"Of course not. Doing something like that occasionally is enough to satisfy yourself. If you really want to change this city, you need to give the people of this city hope from the bottom up and encourage their courage."

More importantly, we need to deal with those corporate dogs.

Mercer paused and continued, "As long as the company's hegemony is not restrained and resolved, this city will never have any hope. This is a truth that even street urchins understand."

Bruce gave a complicated smile: "Yeah, even street thugs understand that one more man in black fighting crime won't change this city. And what have I done? I shouldn't have. But why?"

He fell into a state of muttering to himself again.

Now everyone could see that he seemed to be in serious trouble.

Mercer opened the spider program and cautiously questioned Spider-Murphy, who seemed to have been observing Night Shadowman's movements.

But Spider Murphy did not respond.

Mercer realized that things seemed to be getting a little complicated.

He initially thought it was just a small Easter egg in the game, and he just wanted to get a free Stone Sword and see what this little Easter egg would look like in today's increasingly realistic cyberpunk world.

But now it seems that Mercer has a premonition that he has been unknowingly drawn into a huge conspiracy by Spider-Murphy.

Reason told Mercer that he should stop now; if he continued to investigate, it might lead to big trouble.

Emotionally, Mercer remained silent for a moment before suddenly asking, "When did you first have the idea of ​​becoming the Night Shadow?"

Bruce instinctively replied, "When my parents died in front of me, and I could only hide in a dark alley."

"Do you know who the culprit is? Which alley were you hiding in? Why didn't they find you and kill you? Where did you go afterward? How did you grow up?"

Mercer's series of questions left Bruce speechless, his mouth agape.

[Mercer: Morning Star, help me thoroughly investigate Bruce's situation. I feel something's not right.]

[Morning Star: Retrieving matching data from the NCPD and City Hall servers, please wait.]

Bruce suddenly stood up, threw his cigar on the ground, and paced back and forth uneasily: "I don't quite remember, is the alley in Watson District? Or Little Chinatown? I can't remember."

All I remember is that it was very dark, really dark. But there was an indescribable sense of security.

After that, I went home, went to school, and sold my parents' company.

"Who helped you sell it? According to you, you were very young at the time, weren't you?" Mercer asked.

“He’s a good friend of my father’s from the Night Corporation,” Bruce replied.

"Does he have blue eyes?" Mercer asked urgently.

Bruce stared blankly into Mercer's eyes: "Yes, he has blue eyes that look a lot like yours."

He suddenly seemed to have triggered some kind of PTSD, his body trembling inexplicably: "You know him?"

"Calm down, Bruce," Mercer said, but before he could finish, the Morning Star message appeared before him.

[Morning Star: Based on your request, I have reinvestigated all information related to the Bruce in front of me. Through comparison and judgment, I believe that he is not actually the 'Bruce Will' you identified using the NCPD scan.]

[Mercer: What do you mean?]

[Morning Star: By comparing the databases of Night City Hall and NCPD, I discovered that there are two different files for 'Bruce Will'.]

One of them is the latest data from the NCPD and City Hall servers, obtained from your prosthetic eye scan, while the other is an old data file from 13 years ago, preserved in the NCPD archives.

The NCPD has a separate server for storing case files of crimes discovered by the NCPD, and in this data I found another record that is different from the current 'Bruce Will' file.

I have sent the abnormal part to your network access repository. Please check it yourself and make your own judgment.

Mercer didn't reply, but immediately opened the file sent by Morning Star.

One of the documents was the data he obtained from the scanning program on Bruce's prosthetic eye during his first scan.

A senior executive at Ye Corporation, his parents died when he was twelve. After growing up a bit, he sold his family's company to Ye Corporation, and then worked for Ye Corporation ever since after attending university.
The other document is a case file stored separately in the NCPD archives.

This case file was the case file for the robbery and murder of Bruce's parents. It contained a detailed record of the incident and the files of the people involved. Mercer's focus was on Bruce Will's file.

He suffered multiple gunshot wounds to the head and body, was seriously injured and hospitalized, and then went missing.

Mercer checked the case record dates. This file was probably stored on the archive server about five months after the incident, when the investigation was halted and the file was sealed.

In other words, Bruce was missing for five months after the incident.
[Morning Star: You should pay attention to his facial features.]

Mercer's expression changed slightly, and he immediately stared intently at the faces in the two files, comparing them. A second later, as if he were spotting differences, he found the answer.

He turned to look at Bruce, staring intently at his left cheek, and then asked a question: "Have you ever had facial surgery? Corrective surgery or plastic surgery or anything like that?"

Bruce stared intently into Mercer's eyes: "Me? No, I've never cut my head."

"Then why are your eyes symmetrical? Your file shows that you have relatively obvious asymmetry in your eyes. Your nose also looks straighter."

As Mercer spoke, he quickly pieced together a very bold, but perhaps very real, truth in his mind.

"Bruce Will, were you really let go by the criminals back then, hiding in the shadows and escaping unscathed? Or were you actually shot in that incident and seriously injured, requiring hospitalization?"

Mercer's words left Bruce completely stunned: "I wasn't shot. I watched my parents die."

"What were your parents' circumstances like back then? Besides the photos, can you remember anything?" Mercer's single question plunged Bruce into panic.

He couldn't remember.

He could only remember the moment his parents were shot and fell to the ground, even though he should have remembered it vividly afterward!
All he could remember was darkness, a warm darkness.
“I can’t remember,” Bruce stared blankly at Mercer.

After a moment of silence, Mercer asked, "Which hospital did you go to, and what treatment did you receive?"

"I don't know," Bruce replied, still feigning ignorance. "I don't remember going to the hospital afterward."

Bruce suddenly became agitated: "No, I just haven't been to the hospital! Stop talking, why are you telling me all this?"

Are you sure? Let me see.

Mercer turned around and searched his safe house for a while, eventually finding a portable scanner used to check his physical condition.

"This scanner is yours, isn't it? You put it here."

After Mercer finished speaking, Bruce nodded subconsciously.

Mercer then tossed it to Bruce: "Check yourself over and see if there are any signs of surgery on your head."

Bruce clutched the device somewhat uneasily. He didn't know why he felt uneasy, but after taking a deep breath, he used it to give his entire body a thorough scan.

After the scan was finished, he looked at the miniature computer connected to the scanner, operated it for a while, and then said in an incredulous and somewhat frightened tone, "It's impossible that I haven't had surgery, absolutely not."

Mercer walked over, looked at it, and then said, "The skull has repair marks. The surgery was a long time ago, and it used advanced bionic artificial bones."

You can tell by looking at the shaded areas that the traces of time are different from those found on other parts of your skull.

There are multiple gunshot wounds and surgical scars on your body. Think about it, do they match the locations of your injuries in your memory?

Bruce grew increasingly uneasy and panicked, and simply picked up the device to scan himself again.

V and Rebecca were completely dumbfounded—neither of them understood what had happened, what blue eyes, the Night Corporation, being injured, and so on. What was going on?

"Mercury, what's going on?" Rebecca couldn't help but ask.

“I think we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble,” Mercer said frankly.

He turned to look at Bruce, his mood growing increasingly heavy, and said, "Would you mind if I did a procedural check for you?"

“Here you go.” Bruce gritted his teeth and put the scanner aside.

Mercer didn't operate it directly. Instead, he used a miniature network access pod in his secret base, which was essentially a miniature laptop, to connect to Bruce's brain-computer interface.

Then, by typing on a keyboard, they searched and examined the programs in his mind.

After about three minutes, Mercer stopped what he was doing: "Found it. Ha, it really is a surveillance program. In other words, we may have already been discovered, or are you watching me right now, Mr. Blue Eyes?"

As Mercer asked the question, Bruce suddenly froze on the spot, his body trembling slightly. After a few breaths, he rolled his eyes and bumped into the table behind him.

However, before he could fall, his eyes returned to normal. But just as his eyeballs rolled down, his prosthetic eye began to glow blue. Soon, Bruce's eyes looked like a striking blue.

Bruce's expression became very calm. His blue eyes met Mercer's gaze, and he smiled: "You seem to know me, Mr. A."

"So, you've heard something about him? Is he one of your test subjects?" Mercer's words made V instinctively raise his pistol, and Rebecca hugged Iron Gallbladder tightly.

Both girls couldn't help but show a look of astonishment—Bruce had become a completely different person in the blink of an eye!

No, it's not just a feeling; he seems to really be controlled by someone else, or rather, possessed by a ghost.
What the hell is this thing?!
"I guess so. To be precise, we spared his life."

Blue Eyes looked at Mercer, then laughed: "Don't record the video with your prosthetic eye on, or we won't be able to talk. I don't want news of the stock price crash to be reported in the media."

You wanted to see me, so I came. I thought you wanted to sit down and have a proper chat.

The blue-eyed man grabbed a chair, crossed his legs, and elegantly picked up another cigar: "Could you cut this for me? I'm not used to the feeling of using only one hand."

Mercer remained unmoved, so the blue-eyed man sighed, slowly cut off the end of a cigar, put it in his mouth, and lit it.

"Let's be fair. You ask one question, I ask one question. If either of us doesn't want to answer, then our conversation ends here, okay?"

Blue Eyes offered a suggestion.

Mercer nodded and asked first, "You used him to test your cognitive restructuring program and turned him into the Night Shadowman we know today?"

The blue-eyed man smiled and said, "You're using one question to confirm many answers, but the answer is, you guessed right."

He exhaled a puff of cigar smoke, then said slowly and deliberately, "Now, answer my question: what is your true identity?"

“Currently, I’m the leader of a fringewalker squad. You can call me A,” Mercer replied calmly.

The blue-eyed man shook his head and said, "That's not what I'm asking. I want to ask you... um... your true identity."

"You're not trying to ask me if I'm human, are you? Well, I can tell you that I'm a 100% tough, real man."

After Mercer finished speaking, the blue-eyed man nodded and looked him up and down: "You're strange. Well, but you're not lying to me."

After a brief moment of silence and thought, Mercer asked a very bold question: "Do you have any connection with Ultraman and these roving AIs?"

“You have to tell me, which ‘roaming AIs’ are you referring to?”

The blue-eyed woman looked at him with some surprise: "It seems you not only know me, but are very familiar with me."

"Have you reached any cooperation agreement with Ultraman?" Mercer changed the subject.

Blue Eyes smiled: "No, we just know each other. What are you worried about? You've met Ultraman? That's really rare. She doesn't usually like to interact with people."

V muttered to himself, "Another woman. Who is Ultraman?"

"How would I know?" Rebecca muttered in reply.

The two non-intelligent individuals knew nothing about hacking. Even if they had heard some things before, they had basically forgotten them. Naturally, they were completely unaware of the name "Otto," which would excite the Voodoo Gang to the point of jumping for joy.

"Is this your problem?" Mercer didn't answer directly.

“Alright, then I’d like to ask you, what is your purpose in coming to Night City?” The blue-eyed man stared at Mercer, seemingly trying to see through his thoughts through the eyes revealed by his mask.

"Make money first, then build a great business," Mercer said.

The blue-eyed man shook his head again: "Just want to become famous and make a name for yourself? What is a great career?"

"I want to make the world a better place, so I have to make this city a better place first. And to do that, I have to do something big first. Are you satisfied with this answer?"

Mercer's words made the blue-eyed man smile: "Yes, I'm very satisfied."

His eyes gleamed with a faint blue light. He then tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, and finally said, "I understand. Okay, that's settled then. You can do whatever you want with Bruce. He's no longer of any testing value."

His assets will be frozen, but the car he gave you is yours now, and I won't take it back.

"Ha, using a poor, innocent guy as an experiment, and then letting him die after the experiment is over, not even sparing his family property."

Mercer's slightly mocking tone only made the blue-eyed man shake his head indifferently: "If we hadn't needed him, he would have died in that alley back then. We gave him a chance to live for more than ten years."

"So, in order to acquire his parents' company, the Night Corporation killed his parents first, then rescued him to conduct experiments. Is that what they call 'giving him a chance to live'?" Mercer continued to mock.

"No, we did not plan this murder—Night Corporation prefers normal business competition and cooperation, and Night City was built for this purpose. We do not like to seize assets through murder."

We simply purchased their company with a legal and compliant contract and a reasonable amount of money after confirming the deaths of his parents.

"If it weren't for us, do you think a twelve-year-old child, even if he survived, could have protected his family's property?"

After speaking, the blue-eyed man looked at Mercer and simply smiled, "It seems you don't really want to continue this conversation with me."

“Indeed, it’s very unpleasant to be used. Goodbye.” Mercer’s tone was icy.

Mr. Blue Eyes shook his head and sighed, "I never expected to encounter something like this. Well then, I think we'll meet again someday."

After he finished speaking, Blue Eyes, or rather Bruce's eyes, suddenly trembled and returned to their original color. He staggered a few steps and stared blankly at Mercer and the others. After a few seconds, he suddenly asked, "What just happened?"

V and Rebecca didn't reply, but instead looked at Mercer.

"Mercur, are you... alright?" Rebecca asked first.

Mercer shook his head: "It's alright, wait a moment, I'm chatting with someone online."

His prosthetic eye gleamed faintly, and what he was looking at was the chat panel of the spider program that had unfolded before him.

Mercer's message on the chat panel has not yet received a reply.

Mercer: I thought we could be friends, Murphy.

(End of this chapter)