Cyberpunk:Gained a body of steel

Peter glanced around the dimly lit factory and quickly noticed a man at the far end of the Maelstrom Gang's hideout, casually holding a small pistol. Without hesitation, Peter brought up his operation panel and hacked into the man's prosthetic body.

The gang member, oblivious to Peter's interference, was in the middle of celebrating with his comrades over what they believed to be their successful ambush of an intruder. The joy on his face froze as his hand suddenly turned, pointing the gun at a fellow gang member.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out, and the targeted gang member collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

"What the hell are you doing, Colin?!" one of the gang members shouted in shock, staring at the man holding the smoking gun.

The others froze, their expressions a mix of confusion and fury.

"Have you lost your mind, Colin?!"

"Ricky! Ricky! Get up, man!"

Before they could make sense of the situation, Colin's hand moved again, this time firing wildly at another nearby gang member.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of gunfire echoed in the factory as Colin's bullets tore through another member of the gang. Chaos erupted.

"He's lost it! Kill him before he takes us all out!" shouted Clyde, the gang's little boss, as he drew his gun.

The rest of the gang followed suit, opening fire on Colin. Though the gang was notorious for their cybernetic enhancements, they knew the risks of cyberpsychosis—the condition where an overreliance on cybernetic implants drove individuals insane. To them, Colin was now just another victim of the dreaded condition.

Colin tried to explain, his face a mixture of panic and confusion, but it was too late. Bullets riddled his body, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Clyde spat on the ground, muttering curses. "Damn it, what a mess. Butcher, get Colin's body out of here."

Butcher, one of Clyde's subordinates, nodded and stepped forward. His cybernetic arm whirred to life, ejecting a set of rusty mantis blades. However, instead of complying with the order, his blades slashed toward Clyde with terrifying speed.

"Clyde! Behind you!" one of the gang members shouted.

Clyde, already on edge, threw himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the attack. He rolled to his feet, his face pale with rage and confusion.

"Butcher! What the hell are you doing?!"

Butcher's face twisted in terror as he fought to control his malfunctioning body. "It's not me, Clyde! My arms... they're moving on their own!"

The mantis blades swung again, forcing Clyde to dodge. The factory descended further into chaos as the gang members turned on each other, unable to trust their own cybernetic enhancements.

Above it all, Peter watched from a hidden vantage point, a smirk playing on his lips. The hacking system he'd installed earlier had exceeded his expectations. What started as a mere experiment had turned into a source of entertainment.

As the chaos unfolded, Clyde finally pieced together that something was wrong. Nine of his men were already dead, their prosthetic bodies having turned against them. His gaze darted around the factory, and then he saw him—Peter, perched on a beam, watching the scene with amusement.

"You!" Clyde roared, raising his kinetic revolver and aiming at Peter.

Peter noticed the movement and turned his gaze toward Clyde, his expression calm. With a simple command, the revolver in Clyde's hand twisted, pointing back at its owner.

"No! No, no, no!" Clyde's eyes widened in horror as his finger involuntarily pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Blood splattered across the factory floor as Clyde fell, his body lifeless. The remaining gang members panicked, screaming and scrambling to escape the cursed factory. To them, it wasn't cyberpsychosis anymore—this was something far worse.

Peter chuckled softly as he manipulated his system, ensuring he remained hidden. The factory, once filled with the arrogant laughter of the Maelstrom Gang, was now eerily silent except for the frantic footsteps of those trying to flee.

Suddenly, the wall of the factory exploded, debris flying everywhere. Dust filled the air as a figure clad in half-baked exoskeleton armor stepped into the chaos.

"Alright, boys!" the figure, known as Blake, shouted. "Take down these intruders! No one messes with the Maelstrom Gang and gets away with it!"

Blake, unaware of the carnage within, marched forward, his heavy steps echoing in the ruined space.

As the dust settled, he finally noticed the bodies scattered across the floor. His confident stride faltered, and his expression twisted in disbelief.

"What the... What happened here?!" Blake's voice trembled with rage and confusion. "Who did this?!"

Before he could process the scene, two more figures entered through the hole in the wall—V and Jack, who had been pursuing Blake. They stopped in their tracks, taking in the aftermath.

"Whoa," Jack muttered, his eyes wide. "Did Peter do all this?"

V crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like it. Guess we underestimated him."

Blake's fury boiled over. "You think this is funny?!" he bellowed, turning to face V and Jack. "You two did this, didn't you?!"

V shrugged. "Not us, buddy. But you're welcome to join the pile if you're that upset about it."

Peter, still hidden above, watched the scene unfold with satisfaction. The Maelstrom Gang had been a thorn in his side for too long, and dismantling them had been easier—and more entertaining—than he'd expected.

Blake roared and charged at V and Jack, his exoskeleton-enhanced body giving him a speed and strength advantage. The two braced for impact, ready for a fight.

But before Blake could reach them, Peter intervened. With a flick of his fingers, he hacked into Blake's exoskeleton. The armor screeched to a halt, locking Blake in place.

"What the—?!" Blake struggled against the sudden paralysis, his eyes darting around in panic.

Peter finally stepped into view, descending from his perch with deliberate slowness. "Looking for me?" he asked, his tone mocking.

Blake's eyes narrowed. "You... You're the one behind this!"

Peter spread his arms theatrically. "Guilty as charged. You know, for a gang that prides itself on technology, you guys are surprisingly easy to hack."

Blake growled, his muscles straining against the frozen exoskeleton. "I'll kill you for this!"

Peter tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "You can try, but I don't think you'll get very far." With another command, the exoskeleton powered down completely, leaving Blake immobilized.

V and Jack exchanged glances before approaching Peter.

"Not bad," V said, nodding in approval. "Didn't think you had it in you to take down a whole gang single-handedly."

Peter shrugged. "What can I say? I like to keep things interesting."

Jack grinned. "Remind me not to piss you off."

The three of them stood amidst the wreckage, the remnants of the Maelstrom Gang scattered around them. For Peter, it was just another day in the chaos of the city—a reminder that even in a world dominated by technology, control belonged to those who knew how to wield it.

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