After the vaccine shot—and after taking care of the face wound "gnawed by cyberpsychosis"—Li Pan pressed an ice pack to his cheek and stared with his cyber-eye at the signal-tracing app No. 18 had sent, thinking it through.
Leticia had slipped into the sewers and hadn't resurfaced yet. Still, the way they'd rolled all over the floor, he'd cracked a bunch of her ribs and driven plenty of true-qi into her viscera. Even for a Level-5 organism like a werewolf, that wasn't an easy recovery.
And even if she was cautious and didn't go straight back to the wolves' den at the Grand Theater, as long as she sought help from the pack, the poppet virus would infect the whole lot. Any lycanthrope who surfaced in Night City and initiated a network transaction would be instantly flagged and tracked by No. 18.
No need to rush. The school was already in the net. Chihime's matter was stabilized for now; Tokugawa business could be eased off a notch. For the moment, focus on securing the Taisui.
Infiltrate Onsen Village and steal the Taisui…?
Li Pan mulled it over, then looked at the plastic bag in his hand.
Leaving this thing with him was a liability anyway… Hm! Got it.
A spark of inspiration. He hopped an aircab straight to Cloudtop Apartments.
Shiranui Wuzi hadn't revoked his permissions, so he breezed through and walked straight into the bath.
She was curled up in a ball in emerald bathwater, face buried against her knees, eyes vacant on the surface—motionless as if her soul had slipped free.
"Hey. Hey."
Li Pan snapped his fingers twice.
"What are you doing, slitting your wrists?"
Shiranui Wuzi slowly raised her head, glanced at him, then turned back to the water's surface.
"So—working or not? If you are, climb out and clock in. If you're not, resign."
Wuzi sank lower, hiding her head beneath the water.
Seeing himself ignored, Li Pan shrugged, tore open the plastic bag, and plopped Tokugawa Chihime's head into the tub.
Wuzi froze—then exploded out of the water like a carp!
"N—Nani kore!?"
Hands in his pockets, Li Pan said,
"Well, look who's lively. Ashiya Shigui has joined the company. Your grudge with her isn't my place to meddle in, but I did deploy you on that mission, so I'll take responsibility.
"She's the one who had you jarred the first time, right? Consider this compensation. Isn't there that online rumor about your people turning an enemy's head into a wine cup? Can I see the craftsmanship…?"
"Nobody has that kind of tradition! Stop believing random net junk!"
About to lose it, Wuzi flopped onto the toilet, clutching her hair, staring dead-eyed at the head bobbing in the water, at a loss for words.
Li Pan sniffed. "Huh? That scent… You ninja all carry this smell. What is it?"
Like reciting from memory, Wuzi murmured,
"An herbal hanpō bath for ninja body-tech. Relieves swelling and interior trauma, stimulates circulation and meridian activity, unlocks the body's potential, pushes the human cap upward…"
Li Pan's eyes lit. "Unlock potential, raise the cap? Any prerequisites? Special method? Body limits?"
Still dazed, she answered,
"No real limits. I've soaked in it since I was little. The longer the better—especially when you're exhausted…"
Li Pan fished Chihime's head out and set it on the tub's edge, stripped off his dress gear, and slid into the bath.
Mm… a bit cool now, but fine. Maybe it was placebo, but his meridians did feel like they were loosening.
Wuzi stared at him, then at the head, hesitated, stood, and stepped into the water. They sat face-to-face, legs intertwined, soaking together.
Cramped, yes—but slick, warm, and soft—surprisingly comfortable. Li Pan stretched lazily and asked, almost idly,
"Hey—you were hanging by a thread, right? What's it like at the brink? Does it hurt?"
Pressed close, warmth rising in her body, Wuzi began to speak:
"My body felt… nothing. Just the drowning suffocation. My awareness fell into a void… nothing to see… nothing to touch… no time, no space, no memory…"
Li Pan nodded.
"I've had something similar."
"You have?" Wuzi searched his face.
"Yeah. In military school, a sim-pod exercise. Someone pulled the cable and locked me in. It felt like that."
He stroked his cheek.
"Sometimes I wonder… if the 'me' back then died—and something else moved into this body…"
Wuzi slid over and pressed tightly against him.
"But we're still alive… aren't we?"
He nodded.
"We're alive."
She nestled into his arms. They held each other in silence, drifting in their memories.
No telling how long before the door slid open. Principal Kōga Asaji walked in, stared at the entwined pair in the tub, then at the head on the rim.
"This is, hands down, the weirdest scene I've ever walked in on…"
"Asaji—w-what are you doing here…?" Wuzi startled, cheeks warming.
Li Pan glanced at Asaji's short skirt and tights, shrugged. "Wanna join?"
Underwater, Wuzi pinched him.
Asaji shot him a glare, closed the door, loosed her hair.
"That bastard's curse is still active. I can't break it alone. I'll break precedent and teach you a few Yin–Yang Metamorphic Shift techniques—so when you output yang-essence, you can last longer and not blow it all at once."
"Hey! I was being considerate—there were people in the office! Too loud is bad optics! Couldn't go all out! You dare question my prowess?"
Annoyed, Li Pan yanked Asaji into the water before she'd even peeled off her tights.
"To hell with that Yin–Yang trick! Today I'll show you the Divine Beast Combat Arts of the Spirit-Taming Sect!"
Wuzi: "Sect—plural?"
What followed was sparring, collisions, "friendly exchanges"—a three-way grand melee from sunrise to sunset, from dawn to dark.
Backed by high-grade techniques memorized from cultivation woodblock "manuals," relentless stamina, and a bounty of yang-essence, Li Pan won an overwhelming victory.
Kōga Asaji and Shiranui Wuzi, for their part, tasted the marvelous spirit of orthodox dual cultivation. Morning, hear the Way; evening, die content—die con— cough, cough! Content enough!
Say what you will—Li Pan found his combat power had climbed—his proper combat power. Though he'd burned through heaps of yang-essence, under the ninja hanpō bath, it felt like his body broke a shackle, growing fiercer the longer he fought; his strength rose again.
Even Nine Yin Divine Art advanced—toward a state of hard and soft in harmony, freely retractable and releasable.
Not a pure bleed this time—gains and losses both, net positive.
For Asaji and Wuzi, with Li Pan's "guidance and crown-tilt," the boost was huge. From a qi perspective alone, both of their inner reserves had climbed two to threefold. If they digested it all, their strength would double.
The three of them slumped together in the tub, catching their breath in a swirl of yin-essence, yang-essence, and medicinals.
Asaji lay on Li Pan's right shoulder, tracing circles on his chest.
"Li, would you be interested in teaching at our Five-Carriage Academy? Your cultivation is profound and unfathomable. I'd like you to teach our staff and students—specifically Kōga's kunoichi."
Li Pan nearly choked.
"C-c-come on! You two already ran me ragged—an entire clan of women would kill me! No, no, not teaching!"
Wuzi pressed in too.
"And those positions you corrected for us—without specific gymnastics training, no one can hit those lines. It can't be just the poses. There's a secret manual too, right? Teach us, Manager?"
He didn't have one—he'd just copied poses from a cultivation comic where a Green-Plum Sect fairy did exactly that. Noncommittal, he slanted her a look and stood. "Let's see your performance first."
Asaji and Wuzi exchanged a look behind him—consensus formed. This man was a treasure trove—worth deeper excavation.
Drying off and dressing, Li Pan's eye fell on the head kicked to the floor during the scrap. In his post-battle sage state, reason returned.
"Right. Wuzi—I've got a tough job that needs you. If you pull it off, I'll consider sharing methods as payment. Principal, if you want in, you're welcome too."
Wuzi: "You can still go again? Rest a bit."
Asaji shook her head. "It's been a while. My waist can't take it. Hit the bed."
Li Pan sighed. "That's a reward, not the mission. Ahem—back to business. Tokugawa's army is massed around Night City. I need to hire ninja to infiltrate Saitō House on Mount Hakone and steal an antique."
Wuzi's eyes flashed. "The Fountain of Youth…"
Asaji's gaze hardened. "Tokugawa…"
He pointed at the head.
"You can see it—our company and Tokugawa Medical are an inch from mortal enemies. With this head here, I don't need to spell it out.
"But how will the Kōga ninja army position itself? In this Tokugawa crisis, you've basically watched from the mountain, letting the tigers fight. If the Tokugawa end up ruling Night City, they'll inevitably favor the Iga clan who made the biggest contributions. Given your blood feud, do you really think you can keep hiding comfortably at Five-Carriage Academy?"
At the turn to serious talk, Asaji's playful air vanished.
"Your company wants to recruit the Kōga ninja army?"
Li Pan shook his head.
"Not the company—me, personally. Or say, a Panlong Construction partnership. No oaths of fealty—just a 24/7 strategic partnership.
"I'm extending this offer because of our… private rapport. What others do isn't my problem. You want returns, you pay the price—that's fair trade.
"I won't lie. The mission's tough; I do need professionals. If you don't dare cross Tokugawa, I won't force it. We can just call earlier… a parting shot and say goodbye."
Wuzi and Asaji met eyes—old confidantes, understanding in a glance.
"This concerns the survival of Kōga's Twenty-One Houses," Asaji said. "We advance and retreat as one. Let us discuss internally and give you an answer tomorrow morning."
Wuzi nodded. "Leave the head to me. Since you asked, Manager, we'll make it into a goblet."
This came down to trust. If he left Tokugawa Chihime's head with them and the Kōga flipped—handing both the head and Li Pan over to Tokugawa—that would be the worst-case scenario.
Even so, if they did betray him, he could counter-accuse—say the Kōga and the werewolves assassinated Tokugawa; he'd merely delivered a package in ignorance. There was surveillance to back him up.
At least "princess slain by professional ninja" was more plausible than "head taken by a flying sword."
But if he could leverage the head to show strength and pull the Kōga court-ninja force over as allies, the upside was obvious.
Risk and opportunity—hand in hand.
Leaving Cloudtop, he checked the news. No outlets were reporting the Tokugawa princess's assassination yet; clearly the Tokugawa were still suppressing it, likely unsure how a perfectly fine person had ended up headless.
TV was still fixated on the siege—Tokugawa envoys and talks with Ye Clan princes and elders.
Then he checked missed messages: two pings from Rama. He knew he'd skipped work two days—01044 must be looking. He called back.
"Rama? What's the status?"
"Boss, Lady Forty-Four wants you. She says the rented synthetic link isn't secure—asks you to meet at our motel. I sent the coordinates."
Li Pan checked the map.
"Got it. Huh? Outside the city? There's just the dump out there—what are you doing?"
Rama: "Picking trash…"
Picking trash?
From Rama's video: these two days, Old Liu, Rama, and the Husky had been doing grunt work. 01044 took them to the dump; she held two iron wires, bent to right angles and parallel in her hands, and wandered among the heaps.
When the wires splayed into a wide V, she had them dig into the pile and take away bottles, jars, and assorted junk. No return to the company—just a fleabag motel on the outskirts.
Well… Monster Corp does one thing well: being weird.
Li Pan eyed the motel: a fair ways from Night City, deep into the trash zone. Only scavengers and roaches roamed there; no worry about encirclement troops.
An aircab out of the city was too pricey; the Emperor-620 was with Orange for armor upgrades. Conveniently, K was guarding the Elders' Council with a pack of Night Riders, so he borrowed Selina from her garage.
From here on, betrayal could come anytime—an Iga/Kōga kill team leaping from the dark to take his head. He hauled two "Flea"-class bikes from the garage as well, hit the overpass, and gunned it. With Metal Storm clearing the way, he could blast through even a Tokugawa checkpoint.
Not that the Tokugawa were doing more than posturing. Shoulder-to-shoulder with the NCPA at the freeway gate, they didn't dare shut the city. One ID check and he was waved through.
Please—Takamagahara lost the war. It's not the era where numbers decide everything. If the Security Bureau weren't holding them back, the Ye fleet would've made planetfall. What's there to strut about?
He sped along the freeway past an endless line: tanks, IFVs, SPGs, TELs, Type-3 SMS, Spider Legions…
Damn. HQ aside, the northern formation looked division-scale. Where did Tokugawa mobilize so many troops? If it were Takamagahara, fine… Maybe Hashiba brought their army over under Tokugawa banners? Wouldn't be surprised…
"Selina, any ninja on our tail?"
"No ninja. High-altitude cruise drones and stealth drones only. I can deploy ECM and optical camo, then accelerate to drop them."
"Wow. You're good—do it, gorgeous!"
"Ara~ you silver-tongued broom-head!"
"Ohhh the boost feels great—faster, faster!"
"Ah—this is as fast as I can go!"
K: "Hey! Stop flirting on the open channel!"
A white-knuckle run to the roadside motel. The moment he parked, 01044 stepped out with a briefcase—clearly she'd sensed his approach in advance.
Interesting. Her synthetic body might be a VK mass-production chassis, but she could still pull off monster-tier tricks. So Monster Corp managers were like Li Pan—each with their own methods, carrying their powers across worlds through their synthetic bodies.
"How's the mission, ma'am? Need my help?"
"Thank you for coming. Let's walk."
They entered the dump. From her case, 01044 produced a grimy iron lump. Exposed magnetic coils and a diaphragm—a car speaker—recently tossed.
She held it up. Strange light gathered—the air rippled with concentric waves.
Li Pan realized he'd just gone offline.
"Holy—badass…"
"A small trick," 01044 smiled. "I heard you filed for company war-readiness. Should I delay my operation?"
"No, no. Private business. I'll handle it."
She nodded.
"Then I won't pry. I wanted to brief you: I've located 0791's local Collector Station."
"Oh? In the dump? Need a hand?"
She shook her head.
"Not here. I'm only scavenging useful props. But the station is nearby—in what you call the Pacific District.
"I checked: there's a newly built complex—Pacific Plaza—that covers the Collector Station. All facilities were contracted by Ye Group's direct subsidiaries. Almost all research equipment is off-world imports—no way without astronomical quid-pro-quo."
Li Pan frowned. "Ye's? Which clan?"
She handed him a stack of flyers—Night City's New Industrial Zone! Cheap Apartments! Jobs! Student Loans! Medical Subsidies! The Pacific—A Better Tomorrow! She pointed at a silver logo on the plan: a vampiric mask with bat wings.
"This development is run by the Fabius clan. Their patriarch is the next Consul—Prince Maxim. By the timeline, he should be waking up soon.
"Be careful. If, for the next century, the Consular Company that administers this plane stands with our opponents, our operations will be very difficult."
.
.
.
⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
💥 High-voltage cyberpunk. Urban warfare. AI paranoia.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
🔗 patreon.com/DrManhattanEN