Cyberpunk:Gained a body of steel

"So, is this all the footage you got from that car?"

A well-dressed woman sat at the head of the conference room, her gaze fixed on the screen projected before her.

"Yes, we found this man in the surveillance footage from the public light rail, where the cyberpsychotic incident occurred this morning," the man in the black suit answered respectfully.

Abernathy, the woman in charge, rewound the video with a disinterested expression. "But the man in this video doesn't seem to have anything special."

The screen showed Peter.

In the footage, Peter appeared behind the cyber-psychotic, moving with incredible speed. Then, he single-handedly subdued the cyber-psychotic, stomping on his head before boarding a vehicle with the Terrorist Mobile Team.

"The interesting part is, I installed the fourth-order model Sean Westin, probably with some military-grade prosthetics in his arms. But if you're bringing me to the company's confidential studio just for this, I promise you'll be out of the barren tower by tomorrow," Abernathy said, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

Despite her cutting words, she knew this was probably a matter her subordinates could handle. As one of the high-level executives at Arban, she didn't have time to deal with every minor issue that came her way. But today, something felt different. This man—this Peter—was piquing her curiosity.

"Please, just take a look at this chip. We initially thought it was just military prosthetics, but we discovered something far more surprising."

The man in black trembled slightly as he handed a chip to Abernathy.

"Fine," she said, taking the chip and inserting it into her Mewtwo device. "But this is the last time. If I don't see anything of value, you're going to regret this."

As the chip loaded, Abernathy's perspective shifted—she was suddenly seeing through the eyes of the cyber-psychotic. The video began at the moment Peter appeared in the cyber-psychotic's line of sight. As the shooting started, chaos erupted in the carriage, with everyone falling to the ground—except for the white-haired woman, who remained frozen in place.

"Hmph, stupid. You deserve to die," Abernathy muttered to herself. Cyber-psychotics, once they've drawn their weapons and are ready to fire, don't stand idly by. Especially not in Night City, where gunfights were a daily occurrence.

But just as the bullet was about to strike the white-haired woman, she disappeared from the cyber-psychotic's vision.

"What's going on? Is there something wrong with the Chaomeng?" Abernathy frowned, confused.

"Director, rewind the video half a second and slow it down by a hundred times," the man in black suggested, a hint of urgency in his voice.

Abernathy did as instructed. The video slowed down dramatically, and for the first time, she saw it—Peter had appeared beside the white-haired woman, and just as quickly, disappeared from sight.

Even slowed a hundred times, all Abernathy could see was a faint afterimage of Peter.

Then, the video continued to show Peter's swift movements as he avoided the cyber-psychotic's attacks.

"How is this possible?" Abernathy muttered under her breath. "This man can use four or five fourth-order Sean Westins in a few minutes?"

She was genuinely surprised. Even second-order Sean Westins required seasoned veterans to operate them effectively. A fourth-order prosthetic was supposed to be a death sentence for most people—it was simply too much to handle. Yet, this man was using it over and over, without any sign of fatigue or strain.

"Well, it seems he might be worth your attention after all. Send me his information," Abernathy said, snapping back to her cold, calculating demeanor.

But before the man in black could respond, he added, "Director, you should run a scan to verify. That's why I reported him to you in the first place."

Abernathy raised an eyebrow. She hadn't run the scan yet, but based on her judgment and what she had seen in the video, she assumed Peter was just another wanderer who had acquired a fourth-order prosthetic somehow—maybe even by stealing from a military convoy.

But then, the scan results came up, and Abernathy was stunned.

'Peter, previously part of the Buckle family, entered Night City this morning.'

The initial information was consistent with her theory—just another rogue who had separated from his family, maybe even a thief who had stolen military-grade prosthetics. But then came the unexpected.

'Scan results: None of the prosthetic bodies contain normal human organs.'

What?

The words appeared in front of Abernathy in bold, glaring letters.

"Impossible!" she muttered under her breath, barely able to process what she was seeing. "His speed can't be achieved by any human body. We've already tested this at the company."

Abernathy was shaken. As the head of the company's intelligence department, she had seen countless modified individuals equipped with advanced prosthetics. She had even crossed paths with the legendary Adam Heavy Hammer, a renowned mercenary in Night City, and she had the authority to give Adam orders at a moment's notice. But even with all that, she had never seen anyone who could fight with prosthetics using just their bare hands and feet—not to this extent.

Peter's abilities were beyond anything she had ever encountered.

She had dealt with cyber-psychotics before, and they were typically individuals who had modified themselves to the extreme, often to the point of insanity. Their prosthetic bodies were almost entirely altered—more than 60% of their bodies were prosthetics. Fighting such cyber-psychotics was not just about skill; it was about power. And yet, Peter had done it with ease, despite not being heavily modified himself.

Abernathy took a deep breath. This wasn't just another case of some rogue with advanced prosthetics. This man was something else entirely. But the question remained: who was he, and where did he come from?

Was he a fluke, a one-in-a-million anomaly who had somehow bypassed the system, or was there something more to him—something even the Arban company hadn't anticipated?

She narrowed her eyes, thinking of her next steps. This Peter wasn't just another rogue with military-grade prosthetics. He was something far more dangerous, and he needed to be watched closely.

"Send me everything you've got on him. Now," Abernathy commanded.

The man in black nodded quickly, scrambling to gather all available data. Abernathy's mind raced. The situation had shifted from a routine surveillance report to something far more dangerous, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. The last thing she wanted was for someone like Peter to slip through the cracks.

She stared at the screen in front of her, wondering just how deep this mystery ran. This was no ordinary person—and Abernathy was starting to fear that she had just uncovered a much bigger threat than she'd anticipated.

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