Cyberpunk 2077: Night City Lord

During the creation of Spider-Sense, I thought about listing its components in the definition section. 
After all, my enhanced memory afforded me perfect recollection of its intricacies. However, I decided against that and left the specificity up to the first definition and the system.
During the materialization of any creation, the system—which was privy to my intentions and knowledge—used these two things as additional input to shape the end product into what I desired. This completely nullified the chances of any creation deviating from the criteria I defined for them. 
My mind wasn't the system's only source of information however. 
According to my benefactor, the miraculous tool was connected to the Akashic Records, the omniversal repository of information about every single thing in existence. 
So not only did it take into account my wants, the system also drew from this infinite well of data to make creations verse accurate and specific to my tastes. That's why for Spider-Sense, I defined it as Spider-Man's ability while thinking of the 616 variant. 
As far as I was concerned, he was not only the first, original Spider-Man, he was also the one with the highest number of recorded feats. Especially when it came to the effectiveness of the sense. And I wanted that for myself. 
The main focus of Spider-Sense was to warn its host of impending danger. It didn't matter what shape or form it came in. If it was detrimental or pertinent to the user in some way, the user would be notified. 
Like everything in existence, there were levels to the alerts the sense gave. 
The warnings I received at the Dataterm and when I stabilized the cyberpsycho victim were the strongest I'd gotten so far. Their alerts were probably the highest level possible. I mean, were there other dangers worse than imminent death? 
Crippling injury maybe? 
Naah. Death was still worse. 
Anyways, aside from being a really, really good alert system, Spider-Sense also served as a highly effective trigger of the body's fight or flight systems. There was no "deer stuck in headlights" freeze with this ability. 
When it triggered at the DataTerm, my senses were sharpened, my body became supercharged, and most important of all, my perception of things slowed significantly. 
A bullet time state with a limit removal effect slapped on top. 
I wasn't aware of the exact details regarding my reaction time, but my meagre knowledge on the subject combined with my improved intelligence and experience in that state allowed me to deduce the lowest possible estimate. 
Whenever I entered that post-Spider-Sense trigger state, I slipped into a mental timestream 15 times faster than normal.. at the very least. 
Revelations like this made me ultra glad for creating the Super-Soldier Serum. Because just a single one of its improvements gave me the abilities of someone chipped with a high-end Sandevistan. Just thinking about it was wild. 
No wonder in all his comic and onscreen renditions, Captain America always radiated an unbeatable aura no matter who he was facing. The man could think faster than most people could blink! 
And now I could access this staggering level of mental agility whenever I was in trouble. It got even better the more I thought about it. 
In dangerous situations, the sequence would go like this.
Spider-Sense detects the danger and warns me. It cranks my mental and physical abilities to their absolute maximums. Then last but also more importantly, it nudges me away from the danger. 
I was effectively untouchable. 
If I ever got hit, that meant I either let it happen, the attacks came from every direction, or Spider-Sense decided to take an off day. 
Overall, this soothed my anxiety significantly. My chances in this unforgiving city had gone up drastically. 
On the topic of alert intensity and being nudged away from and in certain directions, as I said earlier, they were not the same across the board. 
In the motel room, I wasn't nudged away from the bed. The sense only gave me the urge to look at it when I wondered where the danger was coming from. In addition, unlike the alerts I received before, that warning was at a really low intensity. 
If the disaster at the DataTerm was "Get the hell out of the way! Move! Move! Move!," the cyberpsycho encounter was "Watch out, trouble ahead," and the motel room and this person walking up to me right now was, "Pay attention."
Paying heed to the ability that had saved me many times just a few hours ago, I came out of my daydream and sat up straight. 
I was no longer alone in the alley. A black haired, middle aged man marched towards me… well, in my direction at least, his every step subdued but purposeful. He had tattoos lining both his exposed forearms, a pair of matching earrings, and another pair of dark glasses sitting on his nose. 
We locked eyes as soon as I sat up, but he didn't slow down. He only stopped when I got on to my feet and waved.
"Good morning."
My greeting seemed to have caught him off guard. He paused for a bit before responding. 
".....Morning kid."
Viktor Vektor. Every Cyberpunk fan's favorite ripperdoc. His deep and slightly grave voice was exactly like I remembered. 
We both stood there and assessed each other. He was probably wondering whether I was crazy, here to do him harm, or subscribe to his services. I was here for the last one, obviously. 
I took my gaze off him for a brief movement and gestured to his shop entrance. 
"Ehh, are you coming here?"
The man's demeanor remained as cool as ever, his voice betraying no emotion as he responded. "Yeah. Anything the problem?"
"Not at all. I came to see a ripperdoc named Vik. I guess that's you."
"Got it in one. You are?"
I extended my right arm forward and he looked down at it before returning the gesture with well hidden reluctance. 
"Are you asking for my full name or what people call me?"
He shook my hand with a firm grip and let go. "Whatever works for you kid." 
"Oh… okay. I'm Warren Fless-Bishop. But you can call me Bishop."
"Bishop. Nice to meet you."
"Same."
He then resumed his stride. "What brings you to me this early?"
"Cyberware. Don't have any."
He stopped and turned to look at me, his eyebrow rising above his shades as he evaluated me again. 
"You're fully 'ganic?" 
"Yep."
He nodded a few times and gestured for me to follow. 
"You don't see that a lot. Not in this city… come on in. You'll have to wait while I set up."
I grabbed the duffle bag and went down the steps behind him. We only paused for a bit when he unlocked the shop. Upon entry, he switched on the lights, the red illumination doing little to brighten the clinic. 
It in fact, made things worse, changing the atmosphere from "I think there's a monster in here" to "Nuh uh. I'm getting the fuck out."
Completely unaware of the vibe his shop gave off or aware and didn't give the slightest fuck, Vik directed me towards a sofa and moved to his desk.
He powered up his computer screen, sat down and grabbed a tool box. While he did that, I set the bag down at the foot of the couch and plopped down on it with an exhale.
Vik went about the mad scientist den he called a clinic, turning on devices and doing other stuff. 
As he did that, he asked about my bag and its contents, how I came to Night City, what kind of implants I had in mind, and how I found out about him. 
Obviously, I told him a doctored version of events, especially regarding my presence in the city. I told him a story about being caught off guard upon arrival here and waking up naked in a scav den. 
I then linked an altered version of what I did afterwards to the duffle bag and how I found his shop. He believed me… for the most part… I think. Even if he didn't, it's not like he'd call me a liar outright.
Plus, my stature seemed to convince him somewhat. When I told him I'd be 18 in two weeks, he took a long look at me, even commenting on how rare it was for someone my age to look the way I did without some form of enhancement or bodysculpting. 
After about 10 minutes, I was directed to lay in his rippderdoc chair. The single light above the reclining gurney made it stand out in the dim clinic like a cold metal table one would normally see in the lair of an evil scientist. 
The urge to mention it was there, but what purpose would that serve? I kept mum and laid down, just in time for Vik to swing a monitor attached to a stand toward me. 
"I'm gonna hook you up with a Neuroport. It's an agent, hud, neural link, biomon, personal link, virtual reality, and chip sockets wrapped together in a neat little package. All you need to move about the city with ease. 
You can browse my stock of port components and choose those with the specs you like. Other implants are available, but I recommend holding off on those. At least until the basic stuff sets in."
He continued, giving me a basic rundown of cyberware tolerance and absolutely necessary acclimation periods. All to which I responded with nods and the occasional "oh okay" while I swiped through the various options. 
Arms, legs, hands and eyes flashed past. None of them caught my eye despite their impressive specs and manufacturers.
The day I replaced a perfectly fine body part with a machine would be the day I dance naked on the street. 
Unlike the denizens of this city who wanted basic quality of life and protection, or wanted to improve their chances at a better life, I had other options. I didn't need to go down that drastic and risky path. 
Removing any part of my enhanced physique to replace with a machine would be the height of stupidity, and I liked to think my marbles were intact. 
I quickly went through the list and came up empty on Sandys, not surprised in the least. Some subdermals and body platings caught my interest, but only briefly. My body would be made indestructible at a later time. 
I moved on to Internal Agents to select the most expensive one and discovered a most unexpected sight. Rocklin Augmentics Neuron. It was an agent that connected directly to one's optic nerves by the means of nanites, bypassing the need for optic implants.
In order to make full, proper use of an internal agent and neuroport for that matter, you needed an interface to interact with them. 
Most people preferred this interface overlaid with their vision, so the most obvious choice during the installation of a Neuroport was to pluck out an eye or both to replace them with computers. This was the cheapest and most common path. 
Those who didn't want this option, like me, had to pay for cheap alternatives like a subdermal viewscreen or the more expensive ones like the Neuron. 
Note, the price of the Neuron was 2000 eddies, 20 times more expensive than the standard internal agent listed here and double the price of an entire basic Neuroport installation.
Most people could not afford this. If I remembered correctly, the payment for completing most low tier gigs was around this amount. I didn't care though. To me, this was better than removing my eyes and throwing them away like trash. 
Without hesitation, I selected the Rocklin Augmentics Neuron and added four chipware sockets to the basic two of a regular Neuroport, bringing my total to ten. 
Nanogroomers and contraceptive implants soon followed, after which I went to the interface plug section and did nothing except specify that it should go in the back of my head.
By the time I was done, Vik had long finished tuning up his gauntlet device. He was fiddling with another screen when I pushed the one in front of me towards him. He grabbed it and tapped and swiped a few times before looking up at me. 
"The Neuron? You sure you got the eddies for that?" 
"Yep. I can pay right now if you want."
"No need. 'Just making sure." 
After tapping the screen a few more times, the old ripperdoc pushed it aside and got up. He picked up an injector from a nearby table and used it on his gauntleted forearm, clenching and twisting his hand and wrist as he did so.
"If you don't mind me asking, why not choose the Kiroshis? You musta seen the specs on those things." 
He set the injector down and walked past me. I leaned over the chair to see where he was going and saw him move towards a tall stack of containers filled with various implants.
Laying back down, I quickly answered his question. 
"I saw them. They're great. But… it just feels weird to remove my perfectly fine body parts and toss them aside. Where I come from, people who do that are either crazy or desperate…"
"And you're neither."
"I like to think so."
"Hmm. That's a good attitude to have. Especially in this city. Too often, folks come in here eager to chip in more and more stuff. They all gotta have the shiniest and newest implants."
I said nothing and let him continue.
"It's the norm around here. If you don't do that you're either a religious nut job or a weirdo," he said, setting down three canisters and punctuating his statement with two air quotes. 
Totally unbothered by that sentiment, I glanced at the condensate escaping the canisters and just shrugged. 
"Hm. Guess I'll be a weirdo then."
He chuckled in agreement and gestured at me to get up as he moved to the side of the operating chair.
"You're gonna have to take off your shirt." 
I almost slapped my forehead. "Of course."
The clothes were way too comfortable. I had forgotten I had a damn armored vest on. 
Slipping off the chair, I resisted the urge to vanish the clothes into the system and instead undressed the normal way, leaving the vest and sweatshirt on the sofa nearby. 
My upper body completely bare, I enjoyed the sight of my abs for a brief second and climbed back unto the chair Vik had flattened into a gurney. Before I could relax on it, the man interrupted me.
"Face first kiddo. Most of the work's gonna be on your back." 
I nodded and turned around obediently, pressing the front of my body against it. Right after I did that, I felt a tiny, painless prick on my back. 
"Vik. If that's anesthetic, you'll have to up the dose. I have somewhat of a resistance." 
Instead of dosing me again. He asked, "Do you feel anything? Numbness, drowsiness?"
"Not at all."
Click!
He dosed me again and we both waited a few seconds. 
"Still nothing." 
"Kid, you shouldn't joke with this stuff."
"I'm not. I really have a resistance. All my life, I've needed a higher dose to really go under."
I couldn't see him, but it couldn't have been more obvious that the doubtful man was processing my words. After a few seconds, I watched him attach a device to my back before hooking it up to a nearby computer. 
After spending a minute observing and processing whatever readout he was getting, he spoke again. 
"I'm gonna dose you again, but I'm also going to monitor your vitals. The installation's gonna take a while so we'll have to be careful, else your heart and lungs are gonna give out."
I raised my hand and gave him a thumbs up, immediately hearing a click and feeling the familiar prick multiple times. 
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
The numbness and drowsiness appeared like thieves. I felt my body just… melt away as my eyelids began to droop. My entire head went numb and everything became… nothing…