cyberpunk: Travel to 2075

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Jack once promised Mrs. Wells that as long as he was around, nothing would happen to Oliver and Karl. However, during one mission, Karl was seriously injured. Every time Jack recalled this, guilt gnawed at him because he believed he had failed to protect Karl, breaking his promise.

For someone like Jack, breaking a promise was a memory that would haunt him forever. Today, as he faced James, he was determined not to let Karl fight alone again.

Before the high-explosive bullets fired by James's prosthetic projectile launch system reached him, Jack moved—time slowing around him.

He saw it all.

After his last escort mission, Jack had saved enough money to buy a prosthesis in addition to a car. He chose the synaptic accelerator.

[Synaptic Accelerator]: A neural processor that controls hormone balance in threatening situations. It adjusts the user's hormones, heightening their senses and slowing perceived time, similar to the effect of Sandevistan.

Jack saw the fire from James's projectile launch system, the bullets slowly approaching, and Karl's distant gaze locking onto him.

Watch carefully, Karl, Oliver, Jack Wells is about to perform.

Jack dropped to the slippery ground, supporting himself with one hand while holding the Saratoga submachine gun with the other. He leaned over, moving with an agility that belied his physique, and slid sideways, dodging with grace.

"l!"

The bionic tree where Jack had been standing was shattered. Made of stone and plastic, it couldn't withstand the violent bullets.

Thankfully, it's just a bionic tree.

Real trees were rare in Night City, casualties of pollution. The few remaining were mostly found in Korpo Square, a corporate zone, their survival against the odds. Jack would've felt guilty if a real tree had been destroyed.

As debris rained down, Jack raised his Saratoga submachine gun, returning fire. The recoil altered his movement, his kinetic bullets striking James.

The bullets barely fazed James, causing only slight shifts in his body. Sandevistan's effect passed.

That's the second use, Karl mentally noted.

Six seconds had passed since the battle began, and the retreating NCPD officers finally adjusted. Following Johnson's orders, they used bionic trees, police cars, and flower beds as cover, attempting to suppress James with weapons like the Lexington and Tactician.

Their efforts were valiant, but their weapons could only suppress firepower. Even the Tactician, their best shotgun, couldn't penetrate James's subdermal armor.

[Constitution Military M2038 Tactician]: A reliable shotgun popular among low-level gang members and the NCPD. It's affordable, simple, and lethal enough for its price range, but no match for military-grade armor.

Bullets rained on James's back, barely scratching him. They only removed his short blond hair, creating a shallow gully on his scalp.

James, a tough guy who could discard body parts, didn't care about baldness. His rationality had nearly vanished. The gunfire was a symphony, the battlefield calling.

This feeling—being needed, relied upon—this was where he belonged.

I am James, Lieutenant James Norris of the new United States!

James saw blood dripping from his hand, black gunpowder residue, and the grenade explosion marks on the ground. The flames of an incendiary bomb mirrored the holographic projections above, dazzling like fire.

I'm still fighting on the battlefield!

"Haha...haha!"

James felt alive, in control, and on the battlefield. His laughter echoed as he dodged grenades and gunfire, activating Sandevistan once more.

Karl watched James, counting.

That's the third time.

Recalling intelligence, Karl knew James could only use the military experimental Sandevistan three times before reaching his limit and passing out.

It's time.u