Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 40: Ticket to the Major Leagues (Patreon)

It was already completely dark when Pantheon emerged from the lab. Towering holographic advertisements had replaced the stars and moon, lighting up the night sky.

A specially made tactical backpack hung from his shoulders, loaded with fully programmed T.I.M. units.

He intended to test the new machines in a real fight and see what they could do. First, though, he needed to stop by Vik's clinic for a checkup. It was a regular appointment, both to make sure his implants were functioning normally and to address Vik's concerns about Moore Technologies.

There was no telling what a corporation might try to slip into its products behind a customer's back. Pantheon trusted Vik not to hurt him, so he'd agreed to the examination.

As he crossed the bridge and entered Watson, an unfamiliar encrypted call appeared in his retinal display. Caller ID: Regina Jones. Pantheon answered, but Regina launched into her explanation before he could say hello.

“King, I'll get straight to it. There's an urgent gig I need your help with.”

Her holographic projection trembled, as though she were running.

“A cyberpsycho. I need you to subdue him, alive if possible. I've sent the details.”

Pantheon pulled over and opened Regina's attachment.

[Gig: Ticket to the Major Leagues]

[Alec Johnson is a reckless young man who installed a mountain of cyberware because he wanted to run with the big names at the Afterlife.

Titanium-alloy skeleton, heavy subdermal armor, charged jump, adrenaline regulator, ankle enhancements...

To manage the mental strain of so many implants, he got hooked on the latest fashionable drug, Glitter.

You can guess the result. The combined effects of the drugs and cyberware sent him completely out of control.

His cyberpsychosis isn't caused by his implants alone. The drugs play a role too, which makes him a valuable research subject.

If I send MaxTac or the NCPD, all I'll get back is a pile of mangled meat. I need him alive.

We've never met, but I'm confident you can handle this.]

Pantheon smiled slightly as he read the briefing. He needed somewhere to try out his new toy, and the job would also give him a chance to meet Watson's influential fixer. Why turn it down?

“Send me the location.”

Regina visibly relaxed and added a few more details as she transmitted the address.

“Thanks. Something's come up on my end, and I can't spare anyone at the moment.”

“The cyberpsycho cases are an ongoing assignment, but they're public-service work. The pay is only five thousand eddies.”

“Consider this one a favor I owe you.”

Pantheon nodded to show he understood. Regina was behind nearly every cyberpsycho gig in Night City. She took in people suffering from cyberpsychosis and tried to find a treatment.

For those unfortunate patients, who were likely to become research subjects either way, Regina's care was probably the best they could hope for. At least she still treated them as human beings.

The map showed a warehouse at the waterfront docks, not far away. Pantheon turned his motorcycle toward the location. The small warehouse stood in a secluded spot. It hardly looked like the site of legitimate business.

A narrow path branched off a brightly lit pedestrian street and led toward it. The walls were covered in overlapping layers of graffiti, and nobody had bothered to clear away the rubbish scattered across the ground.

A corpse lay by the warehouse entrance. Pantheon gave it a kick.

[Essence +4]

Inside, several enormous gas tanks blocked his view. With so many blind corners, he had no intention of going in himself. His cybernetic eye lit up as he hacked into the local network and accessed the warehouse cameras.

Only three or four bodies lay inside, scattered haphazardly off to one side.

His target, the cyberpsycho, was furiously pounding on a rolling shutter. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulged across his face, and incoherent growls escaped his throat. He'd completely lost his mind.

Maybe someone was hiding behind the shutter, or maybe he was merely venting his rage. Perhaps it was the Glitter making him act like this.

Pantheon set down his backpack, and a T.I.M. crawled out.

“Go get him, T.”

Its matte blue-black shell vanished against the darkness as it slipped between the warehouse shelves and crept toward the target. Alec kept hammering at the wall, seemingly too drug-addled to notice anything around him.

The T.I.M. silently positioned itself behind him and aimed the launcher mounted beneath its abdomen.

Bang!

A web shot out and spread wide in midair. Perhaps the drug had sharpened Alec's senses, or perhaps it was his cyberpsychosis. Either way, he somehow dodged the surprise attack.

He snatched up the heavy machine gun on the floor and opened fire in the direction the web had come from, destroying several unmanned forklifts. By then, the T.I.M. had already retreated into the shadows and concealed itself again.

Pantheon scratched his head, annoyed, but still had no intention of stepping in personally. The blue glow in his cybernetic eye intensified as he marshaled his brain's processing power.

Even without a netrunning pod, thirteen points in Intelligence were enough to perform a few simple quickhacks.

Reboot Optics. Alec lost his sight and immediately panicked. Even berserk, however, he didn't stop moving. He swung the machine gun wildly, smashing anything within reach.

Meanwhile, the little spider had circled around behind him. Its abdominal launcher lifted and aimed at Alec's unprotected back.

Bang!

A web of high-strength nanomaterial enveloped him. The more Alec struggled, the tighter it wrapped around him.

“ROAR!”

He howled like a beast as his cyberware overloaded and red light flared from his Gorilla Arms. Some flaw in the web's design allowed him to tear part of it loose. Pantheon reluctantly ordered the T.I.M. to fire twice more.

With three layers of web wrapped around Alec, even Pantheon felt a headache coming on just looking at the mess. That stuff would be a nightmare to untangle. Even cutting it with a knife might not work. Whatever. Regina could deal with that problem.

Pantheon walked up to the still-struggling Alec and casually gave him a kick. Under this 'gentle reassurance,' Alec stiffened and fell into a blissful sleep. Pantheon shook his head and contacted Regina's people to pick up the patient and clean up the scene.

The gig was over in less than five minutes.

While he waited for Regina's people to arrive, Pantheon wandered around out of boredom and found something interesting.

One of the warehouse's rolling shutters stood open, with another corpse lying inside. His cybernetic eye identified the dead man as a corporate employee responsible for the warehouse.

Jagged bone fragments protruded from his neck. He'd been killed by a heavy blow from a blunt object. Pantheon collected three Essence points and found a shard on the body. Its encryption wasn't particularly complex, and he cracked it after a little work.

Once he read its contents, his face darkened.

The company, Bodyweight Life Preservation Systems, presented itself as a facility for treating drug addiction. In reality, its supposed rehabilitation drug, paramotacol, was merely Glitter mixed with additives.

Young people who'd finally found the courage to quit Glitter spent fortunes on repeated doses of paramotacol, only to become even more dependent on the drug.

Some eventually lost their minds and developed cyberpsychosis.

Expressionless, Pantheon opened the adjoining warehouse. Its shelves were crammed with Glitter, and plastic barrels on the floor held acetaminophen, which the company planned to mix into the drug. A painkiller.