I walked straight toward the checkpoint, and the pedestrians instinctively stepped aside to let me pass. Just as I was about to reach the officers, someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see my corporate escort. He was clearly displeased.
"You should get back in the car. You're Militech property," he said.
"Excuse me? I'm not anyone's property. I'd rather die again," I shot back, yanking my arm free. Time to relive my youth.
I was a detective. Sure, our main job was gathering evidence of crimes, but sometimes we had to shoot. But I hadn't always been an investigator I, like everyone else, graduated from the police academy, started as a rookie, and worked my way up to officer. I'd dealt with all kinds of scumbags, ignored the stench of corpses, searched places I'd rather forget. And, of course, there were plenty of shootouts gang suppression, apprehending dangerous criminals, you name it. I burned through ammo like crazy.
"Captain, since I'm joining your force, I'd like to participate," I said.
"Couldn't just sit still, huh? Duty calling? I'd let you, but sorry bureaucracy still exists. Until you're officially registered with the department, you're just a civilian," the captain replied.
"Robots are used to suppress armed criminals. How am I any different? Just another piece of hardware," I said, glancing at a couple of combat drones stationed near the building.
"Maybe. But I don't know much about you. And I'm not risking my neck for a stranger. No hard feelings?" the captain asked, offering a handshake. "By the way, I didn't introduce myself Roger Maken."
"Matthew Carrington," I replied, extending my hand but not squeezing, afraid I might crush his. I was already realizing just how strong this body was.
"You seem pretty sane. So why go full chrome?" the captain asked.
"Didn't have a choice," I said.
"Maybe. I wouldn't trade my flesh for metal, but it's not my place to judge. Just know that we don't care how much chrome you've got just don't go cyberpsycho and take out your squadmates. If you notice any symptoms, report to medical immediately," the captain warned. He kept mentioning cyberpsychosis. My doctor never said a word about it. I'd have to look into that.
"Does this happen often?" I asked.
"A couple of times in the morning to wake us up, once during lunch, and, of course, a shootout with a gang for dessert. Every damn day," Collins said with a grin. The other officers chuckled it was clearly some inside joke.
"They're joking. Night City is insane. We can't keep up with it. Too many people want a bigger gun and a higher body count," the captain said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and exhaled a plume of smoke. Damn. I missed that feeling.
"I get it," I said.
"Dispatch, two vehicles approaching from the southeast, heading straight for checkpoint four," a voice crackled over the car's radio. The captain's eyes flickered briefly.
"Copy that. Everyone, get ready for combat. Clear the civilians and take positions," the captain ordered.
The officers sprang into action, opening their cars and grabbing their weapons while others shouted at the crowd to disperse. Like I said they practically ran toward their own deaths. Panic erupted, leading to the inevitable people being trampled. The first ones fell, and no one cared, stepping over them in blind fear. I turned away from the all-too-familiar sight and focused on watching the police work. To avoid getting in the way, I moved closer to the building.
Typically, gangsters start by shooting at the cars. The best chance of survival is to hug the wall and get low.
The officers took standard cover behind their vehicles, ready to greet their uninvited guests. Sirens blared at full volume. The corporate's car sped off seems like he completely forgot about me. No loss there. His company wasn't exactly enjoyable.
Then, two cars burst from around the corner, their windows packed with armed criminals. One of them was hauling a massive metal launcher it looked like an RPG. I wasn't sure at first, but my doubts vanished when a rocket shot out, heading straight for the checkpoint. As if on cue, the rest of them opened fire.
I recognized the familiar whizzing of bullets, but there were other sounds ones I didn't know. A sort of buzzing, something different.
The rocket struck a police cruiser, erupting in a powerful explosion, sending the vehicle flying like a toy. Even from a distance, I could tell it was heavy. The officer behind it took the full brunt of the blast and lay motionless on the ground.
The gang's indiscriminate gunfire was already claiming civilian lives. The officers managed to shoot out the tires, causing both vehicles to crash into the buildings on either side of the street. Now it was cover versus cover their ambush had failed. If they'd broken through, taking out the cops would've been easy. But now, it was a standoff.
I wasn't going to sit in cover any longer.
I calmly walked over to a fallen weapon and picked it up. Let's see what we've got here. Looks like an assault rifle. Here's the magazine, the bolt, the safety. Seems like some things haven't changed or maybe the police are just underfunded. Weird having the mag so close to the grip, and the handguard feels different. Hopefully, it doesn't overheat while firing, though it does have a heat shield.
Then I looked at my metal hands and realized how pointless my worries were.
[image]
"Let's see what this body can do," I said, taking the weapon and magazine from the fallen officer. He was clearly dead a bullet straight through his left eye. No way he survived that.
Flipping off the safety, I took aim and fired precision shots at the enemies. The first rounds hit one of the gang members, but he didn't go down immediately. He quickly backed away, shoved something into his mouth, and ducked behind cover. Damn, I pumped so many bullets into him, and he was still standing?
Noticing me, they returned fire. A couple of shots struck my armor, and I quickly ducked back into cover. The concrete pillar I was using for protection sent small fragments crumbling down. Checking the impact points, I saw only minor scratches in the paint. So, this body is armored metal is metal, after all.
Now more confident, I leaned out and started suppressing their positions with gunfire. Immediately, a couple of objects flew toward me could only be grenades. With a long roll, I dove behind a parked car, ejected the empty magazine, and slammed in a fresh one. A split second later, a series of explosions went off.
Time to roast these bastards.
With that battle cry, I stood up and unleashed my rounds. A final sprint brought me to their vehicle, and closing the distance almost entirely, I took down three of them. Their bullets bounced harmlessly off my body, ringing and scraping against the metal.
One of them was still moving, reaching for his weapon. A couple of finishing shots ensured he stayed down. Damn, these guys were tough.
A quick mag swap, and I turned my fire on the remaining enemies. Now, they recognized me as the main threat, concentrating all their shots on me. Then, the rocket launcher reappeared. I couldn't react in time the projectile shot straight at me.
At the last possible second, I dove to the side, but it wasn't enough. The explosion threw me several meters, slamming me against a wall.
My vision glitched, and a warning message flashed in the center of my display:
Body integrity reduced to 40%. Recommended action: proceed to repair facility.
A list of damaged modules and system impairments followed:
Multiple module failures.
Right arm: 90% damage.
Left leg: over 80% damage.
Right torso section: 68% damage.
Visual modules: 30% damage.
Mobility reduced by 70%.
Energy consumption increased by 63%.
My visual feed was filled with static as I tried to stand. The criminals had already dismissed me, resuming their shootout with the police. Apparently, just hitting me with a rocket was enough for them.
Checking my body, I saw that my right side was torn apart sparks and exposed wiring everywhere. My weapon was useless, bent beyond recognition.
Trying to push myself up, I managed to lean on my left side. Lucky me I'd landed near the bodies of the gangsters I had killed earlier. Crawling over, I grabbed all the grenades I could find and carefully tied them together. Now I just needed a way to set them off.
Finding what looked like a pin, I pulled it from all the grenades at once and hurled the bundle with all my strength. It landed perfectly at their position.
A massive explosion erupted, erasing their cover from existence.
Author's Note
While the protagonist is adjusting to his cybernetic body and his two sets of memories are mixing, he cannot recall anything about Cyberpunk. Once everything stabilizes, he will immediately understand where he is.
Brief Explanation
A Borg is a nearly fully cyberized human, retaining only essential organs like the brain, heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, and skin.
The "Enforcer" Platform is a type of cybernetic body used by law enforcement for full cyberization. There is an automated version of this platform controlled by an AI this is the kind used by the protagonist.