"Damn it..."
Kenji slammed the magazine down. "Is David really going to become a psycho? Just like Maine?"
"Why can't he just give it up? Just downgrade to something lighter and live a normal life!"
He knew he was shouting into the void. He knew why David couldn't stop.
Just like Maine, David was the leader. He was the pillar of the crew. If he became weak, the people who relied on him would suffer.
But for David, it went even deeper. He was carrying the weight of multiple lives. His mother's dream of him reaching the top floor of Arasaka Tower. Maine's legacy as a top-tier Solo. And most importantly...
His promise to take Lucy to the moon.
He couldn't fail. He couldn't afford to be "less than."
In a place as lethal as Night City, a downgrade in chrome was a death sentence. David had enemies. He had rivals. If they smelled weakness, they would descend like sharks.
Even if he had no enemies, the "Sandevistan" on his back made him a target. A high-value piece of tech like that would always attract hunters.
David's burden was heavier than any piece of cyberware.
Kenji looked out the window of his office. He thought about the people in the real world. Why did people take high-risk jobs? Construction workers on skyscrapers, long-haul truckers, coal miners...
They risked their lives every day because they carried the weight of a family on their shoulders.
'If I don't carry this weight, I can't protect them. If I do carry it, it will eventually crush me.'
It was the ultimate trap.
"No wonder Aoyama said cyberpsychosis isn't just a neurological condition," Kenji whispered. "It's a symptom of the world they live in."
This cruel, hyper-capitalist world didn't just replace their limbs with machines; it replaced their souls with "market value."
The kind and the idealistic were simply fodder for the machine. The only ones who survived were the hollow ones--the treachery incarnate types like Faraday.
Kenji picked up the next magazine.
They discussed the "Cyberskeleton," a massive, experimental armor suit that only David could potentially pilot.
In exchange for his life and a seat at the corporate table, Faraday agreed to find the hacker who had been sabotaging Arasaka's restoration efforts.
Kenji felt a wave of anxiety for Lucy.
The readers knew things the characters didn't. They knew that Faraday had learned from Maine that the team's primary netrunner, Kiwi, had been injured. That meant someone else had handled the Tanaka job.
Would someone as cunning as Faraday figure out the "backup" was Lucy?
Kenji hoped not, but he knew Aoyama too well. The plot was a tightening spiral.
The story continued.
Lucy, sensing David's deterioration, reached out to someone she trusted. She called Kiwi.
Kiwi was evasive. She told Lucy that David was "doing fine," but then her tone shifted. She asked Lucy if she was ever planning to return to the active roster.
"David is willing to wait," Kiwi said. "But he needs you there. He's struggling."
"...I know," Lucy replied.
"Still a 'no' then?"
"Not yet. But I'm almost finished with what I need to do."
The readers knew exactly what she was doing. She was out in the city, hunting down Arasaka's netrunners, protecting David from the secret he didn't even know existed.
"Is that so? Well, it's your call," Kiwi said.
But before she hung up, she added one last thing. "Remember what I taught you about Night City, Lucy. Trust no one. If you get betrayed, it's your own fault for being weak."
"Yeah... I remember," Lucy said with a tired laugh.
The conversation seemed mundane. Professional. Two netrunners sharing advice.
But as soon as the line went dead, Faraday's contact information flashed on Kiwi's screen.
Kenji's heart stopped.
'No. Not Kiwi. She's... she's one of them. She wouldn't.'
She was Lucy's mentor. Her friend.
But then he remembered the theme of the story. In a world of chrome, is there any room for heart?
"Calculated betrayal," Kenji muttered. "Is that the next 'knife'?"
He could see the pieces moving. Faraday would find Lucy. David would rush to save her. And in doing so, he would be forced to use the very thing that would finally push him over the edge.
"Aoyama, you're a monster," he whispered, even as he turned to the next page.
[To be continued...]
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]