“Strange…”
Jake stared at the completely unmoving progress bar on the screen.
Why couldn’t the surgery process be skipped?
Physiological needs like eating shouldn’t be included either; this game was really bizarre…
He glanced at the time in the bottom-right corner.
19:03.
By the time the surgery finished, it would be midnight.
He couldn’t stay up late, so he didn’t plan on playing much longer tonight.
Jake picked up his phone and opened the calculator app.
After buying the cyberware and paying the surgery fee, David’s account balance was left with: 109,541.3.
Based on the exchange rate…
If manifestation succeeded, he would get nearly 900,000 RMB in cash!
That would be enough money for the surgery, right?
Jake opened the hospital appointment booking page.
For the cardiothoracic surgery department at Class 3A hospitals, specialist appointments were already booked out through next week.
Flipping through several pages, he finally found a general outpatient slot for tomorrow afternoon.
General outpatient was fine too.
Get the checkups done first…
Jake opened his notepad app and began organizing tomorrow’s itinerary.
Bank in the morning, hospital in the afternoon.
If time permitted…
he suddenly remembered the orphanage.
The last time he went was during the Spring Festival, when the elderly director stuffed a large bag of homemade cured sausages into his hands and told him to eat less takeout.
Because of his poor health, he rarely went out, and hadn’t visited since.
“Once I get the money, I’ll go back and visit.” Jake glanced at the surgery countdown on the computer screen, stood up, and stretched: “Five hours…”
“Good time for a break.”
…
Inside the game.
When David opened his eyes again, Vik’s gentle face was before him.
“You’re awake.”
Vik took off his sunglasses and asked: “Surgery went smoothly.
How are you feeling?”
David could feel a dull, lingering pain in his back and Achilles tendons.
But since Jake hadn’t typed anything, he couldn’t utter a single word, able only to stare wide-eyed at Vik.
“Hmm?”
Vik waited a few seconds, his brows slowly furrowing: “Feeling uncomfortable?
You can tell me directly.”
If I could speak, I would have already!
Seeing David give no response, Vik’s brow knit tighter and tighter.
Did something go wrong with the surgery?
The spine…
this kid didn’t end up paralyzed, did he?
He turned and grabbed a scanner from the workbench, preparing to give David another full-body scan.
But in the next second…
David suddenly popped up from the chair like a coil.
A medical miracle?
Vik instinctively took half a step back.
Before he could speak…
David’s vision was suddenly engulfed by a light blue haze.
He felt a faint surge of electricity ripple down his spine, followed by an abundant surge of power rushing through every limb and fiber of his body.
He realized that the world had slowed down.
Disinfectant dripping from the edge of the desk fell at an agonizingly slow pace, the clinic’s exhaust fan whirred sluggishly, and Vik stood by the workbench like a frozen statue.
Under Jake’s control, David stood up from the operating table and strolled leisurely around the clinic at an unhurried pace.
The cheers of the boxing audience stretched out, the cyberware commercials on the street played in slow motion, and even the trajectory of dust motes tumbling within beams of light was clearly visible down to the finest detail.
Is this…
the Sandevistan?
He walked a loop around the room.
By the time he came to a stop in front of the operating table, the light blue haze was fading away.
Clang—
All sound rushed back in an instant.
The humming of the scanner, the rush of air from passing AVs, the chatter of pedestrians in the street…
every sound layered on top of one another—noisy, yet impeccably real.
“I feel great,” Jake smiled and said to Vik.
Totally invincible now.
If I had this cyberware back in Watson Northside, I could’ve wiped out all those 6th Street gangers with just a knife!
“Alright, don’t get full of yourself.”
Seeing that no medical mishap had occurred, Vik finally let out a sigh of relief.
He turned, pulled a silver thermal container from under the workbench, and opened it to reveal several rows of neatly arranged syringes inside.
“I’ve got rules you need to know.”
“For the next 72 hours: no strenuous exercise, no activating combat cyberware to engage in shootouts, no drinking alcohol, no neural narcotics, and no tampering with your cyberware casing.”
He patted the box: “There are immunosuppressants and neural stabilizers inside—make sure to take them according to the manual.
I’ve already given you a shot today, so you don’t need another.”
“That’s a lot of rules,” Jake remarked, somewhat surprised.
“It’s for your own good, kid.”
Vik looked up at him: “A Sandevistan isn’t like other cyberware.”
“Every time you activate it, it pushes your brain, heart, and blood vessels to their absolute limits.
Frequent use will cause irreversible neural damage and multi-organ failure…”
“It is the fastest cyberware in Night City for triggering cyberpsychosis—bar none.”
“Take it easy out there.”
David couldn’t agree more.
He was already possessed by an evil spirit; if he turned into a cyberpsycho on top of that, his life would be completely over.
It seemed that under no circumstances could he install any more cyberware…
“The cyberware’s installed, though it’s a pity we didn’t get around to dealing with the headset,” David heard the voice in his mind say.
“Oh well, let’s call it a night for now.”
Jake glanced at the bottom-right corner of his screen.
00:12.
He exited the game and saved.
Before he could shut down the computer…
Ding—
The doorbell rang.
Jake froze for a moment.
So fast?
He stood up, walked to the front door, placed his hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and turned it.
The sound-activated light in the hallway didn’t turn on.
Only a faint yellow glow from a streetlamp seeped in through the broken window at the far end of the stairwell.
On the ground by the doorway sat three white cardboard boxes, square and neat, stamped with the [Night City] logo.
“Is it really once per day?”
Jake crouched down and opened one of the boxes.
Inside, stacks of eurodollars were neatly arranged, sealed in clear plastic film.
Under the dim light, the color-shifting ink on the topmost bill still caught the light.
He counted them—ten stacks.
One hundred thousand eddies.
Jake counted them twice to be sure before putting them back, then turned to the box next to it.
He opened another box—it was ammunition.
A whole crate of brass casings sat neatly fitted into foam slots.
The last box was even heavier.
He lifted the lid; inside were the various weapons scavenged from Watson Northside, with a military-spec tactical knife sitting beside them, its sheath made of nylon.
Jake picked up the knife and drew the blade.
A cold glint slid along the metal, reflecting half of his face.
He sheathed the knife and rummaged around the bottom of the box.
Sure enough, six fragmentation grenades were nestled inside, individually compartmentalized in foam, each one feeling heavy in his hand.
After two manifestations…
Jake had gained a rough understanding of his ability.
He could only manifest items from the Edgerunners game, once per day, and each manifestation brought forth the equipment, items, and money obtained during that day’s play session.
This power might not be insanely overpowered, but it was a cheat code nonetheless.
Even if he didn’t reach the absolute summit, it was at least enough to ensure immense wealth and prosperity.
Having suffered from his heart condition for twenty-three long years, now that the dark days were finally behind him, his heart was naturally filled with overwhelming joy.
Taking advantage of the empty hallway…
He began carrying the items into his room.
Though it was just a few paces from the doorway to the closet, he had to stop and catch his breath twice along the way.
Once the last load was moved…
Jake leaned against the closet door and sat on the floor, his chest heaving up and down several times.
Though physically exhausting, looking at the box containing one hundred thousand eurodollars, he couldn’t help but let out a smile.
Is this what rich people’s happiness feels like?