Cyberpunk:Robotic Reverie

Back in front of the office, Paul Parker and Autumn said goodbye. Paul's head was overloaded from the day's events as he walked towards the office.

Before entering, he saw a few strong men inside the store from a distance. Standing behind the counter, Charlie looked at them with an impatient expression, his knuckles tapping rhythmically on the wooden table.

Are they here to cause trouble? Or are they clients?

Paul quietly approached and hid outside the door, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation:

"...It's very unkind."

"What do you mean? Questioning my credibility?"

"Are you trying to default on your debt?"

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about? Making things up?"

"Asshole! We will make you pay for this!"

After threatening, the strong men pushed open the glass door of the office. Paul pretended to pass by and brushed shoulders with the group. He noticed that all the people in the group had metal parts on their bodies—some on their arms, some on their calves, and the leader had most of his face covered with gray-white metal, with exposed metal wires at the joints contracting with his breathing.

Only after they left did Paul walk into the office.

Charlie had just left the counter and sat on the stuffed sofa, which made a thumping sound. He picked up the paper newspaper on the table and started reading. Although he didn't say anything, Paul still caught a hint of irritation in his movements.

"Uncle Charlie, who are they?"

"People from the Frontal Lobe Gang. They complained to me that one of the primary combat modules they received this morning was missing, and they wanted to blackmail me for a few bucks."

Primary combat module? Paul was startled, remembering the small black ball that appeared in his backpack, and guessed the source of the injected module. He then thought of the way gangs destroyed bodies in the movies. If this matter was exposed, would he be poured into a cement barrel and sunk to the bottom of the sea, or would he be made into a hamburger alive?

"It's just one missing; is it worth it for them to come to your door like this?"

"Combat modules are hot commodities on the black market. One is enough to feed the family of three next door for several years. In fact, the cost isn't too bad, but the most important thing is that it's hard to get. Recently, the Frontal Lobe Gang has recruited a group of new members. They're looking for energy weapons in the low-security zone. If they have a low-level combat module and find an underground doctor to modify it, it can be equivalent to seven or eight thugs."

Why did this life go astray from the first day?

"Uncle Charlie, is there a sea here?"

"What?"

"Cement. Oh no, I mean what about them? They've come to our door."

"It's okay. They're not qualified to threaten me. Besides, a new gang like them will find an excuse sooner or later." Charlie said slowly, flipping through the pages of the newspaper. "You don't happen to know something about this matter, do you?"

"How is that possible! Maybe some gangster hid it secretly!" Paul said hurriedly.

"Yeah, maybe some gangster is hiding there." The newspaper was put down a little, and Charlie looked through it with a funny expression on his face.

"Uncle Charlie, I'm a little tired. I'll go back to my room first." Paul couldn't hold on any longer and ran away.

"Go get some rest now. Don't stay up late watching 'movies' today. If you can't help it, I'll just give you my contact number."

"No way!"

After escaping to his room, Paul breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps because he was in too much of a hurry and didn't pay attention, he found that this room was a circle larger than an ordinary room, about the size of a garage.

The buildings in this world usually have one or several main floors, as if many floors were merged together. Most of them are tens of meters high. The most exaggerated one, such as the library at Guitar University that Paul saw today, is hundreds of meters high.

Such a large space can accommodate things that can almost be called a small town. Most of the commercial areas are concentrated here, and there are also necessary facilities for life. Most people's main activity area is here, and the office, including the gym where Autumn works, is also here. To be honest, he thinks it is not strange to live in a building for a lifetime.

Despite such a large space, many shops only have narrow storefronts of only two or three meters wide. If we talk about residential areas, one can guess that the space must be even tighter.

Maybe it was converted from a warehouse? He guessed, threw his bag on the shelf behind the bed, sat down in front of the shelf, and turned on the table lamp above. It was called a shelf, but it was more like a knee-high table, fixed to the wall.

The bed was like a large mattress on the floor with a quilt on it. The window next to it provided a good view of the night sky with severe light pollution—but it was a pity that it would make your eyes hurt after sitting next to it for a few seconds. In the middle of the room, on a square dark gray platform half a person's height, there was a holographic projection of a dog with a goatee that kept rotating. He hadn't figured out what it was used for.

There was a speaker next to him that came from nowhere. He tried to connect it with the terminal, and it actually connected. However, he gave up in the end because there was no music to play.

After playing enough, the important things inevitably came to him. Sitting in front of the shelf, he opened the terminal and recalled the day.

First, this strange system. He did "exchange" for the primary combat module—and it was selected by the system without authorization. Although Charlie didn't care much, this incident also brought a lot of trouble to himself and the firm. This didn't seem like a benefit for a time traveler at all, but more like a pitcher plant that would pull its prey in. He was curious about what would happen if he exchanged for the "Purgatory Monster"? Would the monster come down to earth and eat him in one bite?

He opened the system again, and the points in the upper right corner remained unchanged at zero. There was nothing in the task list. Apart from these and the exchange list, there was nothing else on the entire page.

Looking at the system page that looked like a poorly made online game from the 21st century, the Devil's Gift came to his mind. After spending a day in the library, he also learned a little bit about how to use the terminal to connect to the Internet and how to search for information.

After a while, he found an urban legend on the Internet.

It is said that someone suddenly found an app called "System" in their app list. After opening it, there were many strange exchange items, many of which were obviously not from this world. Some people speculated that this was a channel for cross-world smugglers to sell stolen goods, or that it was an app for the cross-world black market. After all, this is a free port, so nothing is strange.

This is just the beginning. From time to time, the system will issue some tasks to earn points. It looks like an ordinary system, except that the way the rewards are delivered is a bit weird. Sometimes they fall from your head, and sometimes they suddenly appear in your pocket.

Slowly, as more tasks are completed, there will be an option in the system called "Wish." All wishes made will come true, but not in the way you want, and usually, there will be some price.

Someone cried and said that he made a wish for a girlfriend, but his arm was broken by a dragon man flying in from the window. He spent several months' salary to replace a robotic arm but uninstalled it in anger.

Some people also vividly described how they used bionic dolls and word games to avoid the cost and reach the pinnacle of life.

However, many of the comments below express longing for this system.

Passerby A: How come I have never encountered such a thing? I also want to change the virtual hand! Because Xia Lianjiang has been taking energy capsules for a month.

Passerby B: I wish I could eat natural vegetables every day, isn't that too much? I'm almost sick of eating regenerated krill.

Passerby C: I want to change something to kill the gangs in the building.

I'm so tired of it every day. If I heard this kind of urban legend, I would definitely think so. Paul smiled helplessly and continued to read. It seems that this system is not a malicious blackmail tool. So let's keep it for now. Maybe it will be useful someday.

Feeling sleepy, Paul switched the glass to sleep mode and jumped onto the mattress. The thermostatic bed had already risen to the most suitable temperature for him in the next second.

Inside the room, outside the long "prison window" on the wall, a black cat peered through the bars, staring intently at Paul.

(End of this chapter)