1: Chapter 1 You're Going to Try Your Luck!
On the screen was the never-extinguishing neon of Night City.
Lin Yi slumped in his chair, controlling his in-game V as he completed yet another trivial side quest. This was his countless time traversing this cyber world—outside the window was the neon of reality, beside him were dull walls, so monotonous it made one want to sleep.
Suddenly!
A beam of high-beam light, savage to the extreme, unreasonably pierced through the window on the left, illuminating the entire room in a deathly white!
Lin Yi was startled into a violent shudder, nearly flipping out of his chair. He turned his head in terror—
A massive, yellow heavy-duty truck, emblazoned with the characters for "Dayun," was floating outside his sixth-floor window, absurdly and in defiance of all reason!
The driver's cab was empty, save for cold mechanical cybernetic limbs manipulating the steering wheel.
This surreal scene caused his brain to completely crash.
Even more absurdly, the truck's deafening speakers began to roar on their own, playing a song with a melody that was both ridiculous and desolate:
"Oh, life~"
"Can you spare me just this once~"
Lin Yi's final thought had nothing to do with philosophy or fear, leaving only a despair akin to social death—
"My browsing history!!!"
...
Darkness.
Viscous, void, suffocating absolute darkness.
Immediately, a sharp point of blue light exploded, forcibly tearing through this chaos.
[Kiroshi Optics: Initializing...]
[Calibration complete...]
The cold system prompts were like the first heartbeat. A cold electronic UI interface overlaid his vision—or rather, the vision of this unfamiliar body.
"Ughhh—!"
The intense stinging pain didn't come from his eyes, but from deep within his brain, as if a red-hot iron rod were fiercely churning his brain matter. Several memory fragments that didn't belong to him surged in savagely, accompanied by this excruciating pain—
First to flash by was a vast, buzzing server cluster, emitting a cold blue light. A blurry figure wearing a Kang Tao technician's jacket (was it him?) was busy nervously working at a terminal, fingers moving so fast they created afterimages.
Next was a cramped, swaying space, with salty, cold sea breeze pouring in through the cracks. He (?) was curled up in a dark cargo container, clutching a silver-white sealed box, teeth chattering from the cold.
Then it was him (?) again, whispering rapidly to a small black container with a minimalist design and flowing dark gold data patterns: "...You bastard, making me take the fall, and still wanting to reap the rewards? You're dreaming..." He then tucked the container back into the inner pocket of his jacket.
The memory flashback stopped abruptly.
The pain of reality surged in like a tide.
"Holy sh*t! I'm injured!"
The instinct for survival made him instantly "sober up," and he subconsciously looked down and fumbled over his body. His palm pressed hard against a wet, hot patch on his abdomen, the sticky warmth rapidly soaking through his clothes.
He raised his hand.
Blinding crimson. A heavy smell of rust permeated his nostrils.
A cruel fact lay before him.
"Holy sh*t! What the hell! Where the hell is this place? I just got here, dammit!!!"
Immense panic and a sense of absurdity nearly drowned him. But a strong desire to survive acted like a shot of adrenaline, forcing him to stagger to his feet.
Clutching his bleeding wound, he stumbled into a filthy alleyway. In the distance behind him, the sounds of gang gunfire and shouting still rang out.
Blood was draining away.
Strength was fading.
His vision began to blur and black out.
Just as he was about to give up, preparing to collapse on the ground and wait for death, he caught a glimpse of a shop with a flickering purple neon sign at the edge of his vision—
[Misty's Esoterica].
"What the hell is this..." he thought subconsciously.
But the next second, a memory fragment from hundreds of hours of gameplay was activated.
"Wait! Misty?! I'm saved!"
He didn't know where he squeezed the last bit of strength from, but like a drunkard, he lunged at the shop door, practically smashing it open.
Inside the shop, incense smoke curled, filled with the scent of herbs and mysticism. A woman wearing a rebellious choker, with gentle yet slightly distant eyes, looked up in surprise.
Lin Yi used his last ounce of strength and croaked hoarsely at her: "Misty! Quick... take me to Viktor's! Damn it, I can't hold on much longer..."
Misty Olszewski looked at this completely strange face, pale from blood loss, her eyes filled with confusion and wariness. But that terrible wound on his body and his near-death state couldn't be faked.
She hesitated for only a moment before that hidden kindness overcame her doubts.
"...Tch, follow me. Viktor! Come help quickly!"
She stepped forward and braced the nearly dying Lin Yi, shouting anxiously toward the back of the clinic.
...
His consciousness, after a long drowning, struggled to surface.
The first thing he felt was the reassuring, unique scent of disinfectant mixed with motor oil. Then came the dull pain from various parts of his body that had been properly treated.
Lin Yi—or rather, this newborn entity that had fused the transmigrator's soul with the original body's memories—flickered his eyelids a few times and finally opened them with difficulty.
His blurry vision gradually focused.
The ceiling. He was lying on an old but clean surgical chair.
Beside him, a sturdy middle-aged man wearing precision external surgical cyberware tools was standing with his back to him, watching a boxing match on the wall-mounted TV. On the tool bench nearby, surgical instruments were arranged in an orderly fashion.
The man seemed to sense he had woken up, and without turning his head, spoke in that signature, steady, and slightly raspy voice:
"Don't move around, kid. You were almost gone... Fortunately, Misty called in time; you were already going into hemorrhagic shock back then."
"Welcome to Night City. I'm Viktor, your ripperdoc."
Lin Yi weakly forced himself to sit up a bit and said: "Thanks, Viktor. Your skills are truly impeccable. How much in total?"
Viktor turned his chair around: "You're lucky in your misfortune, kid. You didn't damage any internal organs; it was mainly just using some synthetic blood. It adds up to—3700."
Lin Yi immediately put on an expression of heartache: "Viktor, given our relationship... can you give me a discount? Look, I just arrived in Night City and I've already suffered so much; my pockets are emptier than my face."
Viktor smiled, but his tone was non-negotiable: "Kid, my medicine and skills are worth this price. It's already very fair."
Lin Yi sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. He glanced at the balance on his transaction chip—only a pitiful 8000 remained, which should be enough for a short while.
Fine, might as well transfer it.
"Transferred... Sigh, now I'm truly broke."
Viktor received the money, nodded, and suddenly asked: "Alright. By the way, why did you call me 'Viktor'? In my memory, I don't know you."
Lin Yi was stunned for a moment.
Then he took the opportunity to continue the act that hadn't worked earlier: "I just thought I'd try to get on your good side to see if I could save some money. Turns out you didn't give me any face at all."
Viktor was amused by him: "Hmph, get some rest, kid."