The bed at home might not be as luxurious as those in high-end suites, and the bedding wasn't exactly soft or silky smooth—but waking up in the morning light, nestled between freshly laundered pillows and blankets, brought a kind of comfort and contentment no other experience could match.
Especially when your pillow was pressed up against the one belonging to someone you love.
Two single beds had been pushed together, and the two piles of messy blankets now formed one. Mower's arm and leg were draped casually across Roqi.
Which made things rather… challenging for Roqi and his "little buddy," who were already standing to attention this morning.
After all, aside from saying goodnight, the two of them hadn't done anything last night. The beds might've been pushed together, but they'd kept a solid half-meter gap between them.
They'd only cuddled. Nothing more.
And right now, Roqi desperately wanted to go back in time and throttle his past self.
He should have moved Mower's arm and leg off him. That would've been the rational thing to do.
But a primal urge inside him tempted him toward something that would've gotten him instantly blacklisted—and probably 404'd.
Mower used to sleep like a rock when alone. But with someone beside her, she'd sleep like the dead, unaware of her current compromising position.
Now was not the time to cuddle.
That would be like pouring gasoline on a fire—or drinking poison to quench your thirst.
Just then, a call saved him from his torment.
His PDA vibrated silently. Roqi grabbed the Bluetooth earpiece off the nightstand, popped it in, and checked the screen.
[Melisa]
What the hell does she want this early in the morning?
Roqi froze for a moment.
If it were an official MaxTac assignment, one of the duty officers should've called.
Could it be something urgent?
His body tensed on instinct.
Moving as quietly as a thief, Roqi slowly slid out from under Mower's limbs. One hand clung to the bed's edge, the other pulled the blanket over so Mower could keep hugging it in her sleep.
Barefoot, he tiptoed across the nanoweave carpet to the other side of the room.
It was a compact one-bedroom apartment. If they had fresh ingredients, Roqi and Mower would sometimes cook here.
Like the green tea sitting on the counter now—black market stuff.
Sometimes it came from Rogue, sometimes from Regina. These particular leaves had been a gift from Padre, thanking Roqi for saving Jackie.
Hardly a luxury item, but in Night City, definitely a rare commodity.
"What's up?" Roqi asked quietly, one hand holding a mug, the other pouring himself a cup of hot tea.
"Come to HQ. I want to spar." Melisa's voice was blunt.
"Spar? What for?" Roqi asked reflexively, pausing mid-pour.
The dark tea flowed eagerly into the cup, swirling with a few loose leaves before settling. Steam rose lazily into the air and faded.
"You forget our deal?" Melisa said flatly. "You promised you'd train with me."
Shit, I totally forgot.
Roqi's hand shook—he almost flung the cup.
When he first agreed to join MaxTac as an unofficial auxiliary, the price was simple: sparring with Melisa every day.
It sounded easy enough. But actually going toe-to-toe with that she-dragon? Nothing simple about it.
So what if I get my ass beat?
Worst case—I die.
Roqi hesitated for a moment, then nodded grimly, accepting his fate.
"When?" he asked, like a samurai heading to his execution.
"...Now."
And with that, Melisa hung up.
Roqi sat there with a steaming cup of tea in hand, staring blankly at the white wall.
Time: 07:23 AM.
Barely out of the warm bed, and already off to get beaten to a pulp.
What a life.
"…"
He heard faint movement behind him—Mower was awake.
"Did I wake you?" Roqi turned around, a little apologetic.
Mower shook her head—but clearly, she'd just woken up.
Roused from her dreams, she'd felt a vague sense of safety vanish. Her eyes opened in a fog, and then—bam! Fully awake.
Why the hell am I practically in Roqi's bed!?
And lying there like a starfish!?
She looked up and saw Roqi whispering at the dining table like he was up to something shady.
A bad feeling hit her gut.
"It was Melisa," Roqi said, shaking his head. "She wants me to spar right now."
Hearing that, Mower's expression softened.
"I'm coming too," she said, hopping out of bed without hesitation.
Roqi stared at her, frozen.
Then his eyes drifted—unable to look away.
Mower followed his gaze down to her outfit.
A sleeveless tank top. Tight, black athletic shorts.
She looked up again and found Roqi frantically grabbing tissues to plug his nose.
A blush crept across her cheeks.
She'd always dressed like this. Never thought twice about it.
See those defined abs? That lean, toned muscle?
She might not be bulky, but she was compact and deadly. One punch, especially with a fire-boosted implant, could reduce a punk to a twitching pile of fried meat.
She'd never thought of herself as "sexy." Never cared about being "feminine."
That stuff didn't exist in her world.
Until she met Roqi.
…
In the end, both of them headed to MaxTac HQ. Mower didn't have a reason to go—but she went anyway.
No deeper meaning. She just wanted to be near him.
The ARCH Talon heavy-duty patrol bike had already docked in the garage, and a bot had started the ammo and fuel restock routine.
As soon as they got off, the two made their way to the training hall.
Sure enough, Melisa was already inside, waiting.
It was early, but time didn't mean much to MaxTac.
They didn't work fixed shifts—only logged deployments and hours.
Their mission was 24/7 response. Because Night City never sleeps.
Unlike daytime, the city lived up to its name at night. "Night City"—a place as dazzling as its founder, born to shine in the dark.
The more vibrant it was, the higher the chances something would go horribly wrong.
From the raw chaos of Jig-Jig Street to the sleepless glow of City Center, from the packed alleys of Little China, Kabuki, and Japantown…
All of it was a ticking time bomb. One spark, and you'd have arson, murder, looting—and police called in hot.
As Deputy Commander of MaxTac Unit One and Squad One's Captain, Melisa Rory held insane authority. She could ignore dispatch calls if she wanted and just do her own thing.
She was only one person, true—but her targets weren't petty thieves. They were top-tier threats, often cyberpsychos with military-grade gear.
Take Mower, for example. If Roqi hadn't knocked her out first, Melisa would've had to deal with her—and it wouldn't have been pretty.
MaxTac didn't mess around with amateurs.
Back then, in her condition, Mower would've been toast.
Clack. Clack.
Hearing the door, Melisa glanced at Roqi, then said nothing and walked straight onto the massive combat platform—big enough to drift a tank.
She tossed her coat onto a pillar. Twin, oversized mantis blades sprang from her arms.
"We're going straight into it?"
Roqi blinked. "No warm-up?"
"This is the warm-up," Melisa snapped, glancing at Mower, clearly annoyed at how glued the two of them were.
Roqi looked at Mower but saw no change in her expression.
To her, this kind of training was routine.
In the past, warm-ups were actual live combat:
Rappelling in, breaching, neutralizing all targets. Then stretching and yawning while teammates complained the mission ended too fast.
Roqi grabbed his katana, Awakened, and jumped—landing on the platform from seven meters out, rolling his shoulders.
Melisa didn't wait for a pose. She blitzed him, mantis blades flashing.
It was just a probe, but for anyone watching, the strike looked lethal.
Roqi dodged sideways, five meters in a blink. He reversed his grip, drew Awakened, and clashed steel with mantis blade.
Sparks flew.
The two separated again by several meters.
"Your speed's dropped!" Melisa yelled, launching a brutal combo.
Strike after strike, she didn't pause for a second. Her movements were fluid, weightless, and exploded with terrifying power that had the spectators holding their breath.
Like Deathwing with a triple Windfury proc—unless you had superhuman reflexes and durability, you'd be crushed.
Roqi was gritting his teeth.
It wasn't that he was slower—just… totally unmotivated in this kind of brute-force slugfest.
Just avoiding being sliced to ribbons was already a full-time job.
But Melisa could tell. She didn't let up. Every strike came from a kill angle. One slip, and he'd be a corpse.
Under that pressure, Roqi had to get serious.
Even a saint has his limits.
He couldn't keep holding back.
And Melisa's methods—rough as they were—worked.
Within minutes, the platform was ablaze with blades and speed.
"Still a damn beautiful fight," muttered Joseph Dredd, watching from the sidelines. He was now acting vice-captain of Squad One, a solid mid-tier fighter.
But watching Roqi—technically an auxiliary—made him feel seriously underpowered.
If it were him up there, he'd need a gun. Fast.
Especially when he glanced at Mower.
Just seeing her brought back painful memories.
She was the one who had flattened him. Her moves screamed elite military—every strike sharp, brutal, precise.
If she'd had mantis blades instead of her fire-boosted fists, she'd be a second Melisa Rory.
Maybe not as powerful—but easily enough to crush him.
Where the hell had the captain found these two monsters?
Still, no hard feelings.
MaxTac was desperate for people. And if they weren't criminals anymore? With the right treatment and modifications, they were an asset.
But the sounds of clashing steel kept getting louder.
Melisa… was losing.
Unlike last time, she wasn't dancing around. She was trying to outduel Roqi head-on.
And she was falling behind.
Sometimes she'd preemptively guard, only for Roqi to vanish and reappear a few meters away with a slash from the side.
His guerrilla fighting style was sharper, more ruthless than hers.
"RAAAHH!!"
Melisa roared and kicked into overdrive—strength and speed cranked to the max.
Roqi had to backpedal fast, blocking desperately.
Blocking mantis blades with a katana was hell—especially at full speed. Two blades beat one. He had to retreat to reset.
"AAAAHHHH!!"
Melisa's roar went up another notch—her blades whistling so fast it made your skin crawl.
Roqi had to flash-step in a zigzag, retreating to the far end of the platform.
But Melisa had already hit overload mode. She blitzed him again in a blur.
Her blade arcs were like razors tearing the air itself.
She's dead serious!
Roqi's shock sharpened his thoughts.
She wasn't trying to kill him. Just pushing herself to the absolute limit.
But she was going too far.
And suddenly, Roqi saw something—
Right now, Melisa looked just like Mower had when she was driven to the edge by pain and despair.
Rationality was fading from her eyes.
Only madness remained.
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MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW?
🤖💘 MY GIRLFRIEND'S A CYBERPSYCHO—WHO KNEW? 💘🤖
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📢 LOVE MEETS CYBERPSYCHOSIS! 📢
My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew? has 100+ chapters ahead available on Patreon! 💘💥
Romance is already complicated.
Now add:
🌃 Night City🦾 Cyberware🔫 Gunfights💀 Cyberpsychosis💥 Property damage❤️ And a girlfriend who might snap at any moment
Love hurts.
In this case, it might also come with bullets, broken walls, and emergency trauma care.
Don't wait for the madness — read ahead now on Patreon!
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