1 Choom? What the f*ck is a choom?

Dying. I remember dying.

My breath came heavy and hard, chest heaving as sweat poured off my tanned skin and covered my bed sheets. Messy black hair flopped across my vision - hair that didn't match the memories but also did. Two different pools of memory.

One from 2022. One from 2076. David Martinez in both.

"Fuck..." I groaned as I forced myself up, "That wasn't a BD either. Too real," I palmed my face before gripping it tightly with the same hand, "What the fuck have you got yourself into, David?" I muttered before looking down at the body that was both unfamiliar and familiar. Memories flooded in and I instantly saw differences in the body. More muscular, more athletic-looking, definitely trained--Hah. So martial training carried over? The soul--my soul--changed it, I guess.

Not like I know how that works or even if that's the case. But it is the only thing that I know that changed. Two souls merging has to have some sorta effect on the body, right?

"Wait, Night City...Cyberpunk? Oh fuck--is my life gonna be bugged to high shit or something?" I gave a mirthless laugh as I collapsed back into bed. Cyberpunk 2077. One of the buggiest games that was ever considered a 'big thing' before it was released...and now I'm in it. Or at least in a universe based off of it.

Past memories proved fleeting when I tried to get more information but I did know one thing; this place is as dystopian as it gets. And from I can freely get from my new memories, this David is just like the past me. Broke and living in a shitty neighborhood. Which is bad. Real bad.

Bad because I'm poor and poor people can't buy proper cyberware. Which means even with this new body being as good as it is and even with my martial training, I wouldn't stand a chance against the average gangster around these parts. How the tables have turned. Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck. Is this karma for all those little dickheads I beat up? Must be.

Another mirthless laugh ripped it's way free from my chest and throat, escaping my lips before I could stop it. What else could I do but laugh at this shitty situation? From the limited shit I could remember about this world, it's filled with horrible shit. Shit that could kill me--I brought my hands up and slapped my face, hard as I could. The resounding smack and stinging pain brought me back into focus and off the mental edge I was about to jump off.

I wasn't gonna die, because I'm not gonna let some hapless choom do that to me. What, just because they have some cybernetics means I have to roll over and die? Yeah fucking right. I'll use this fucking thing to my advantage. This System--

[System Activating]

"Huh," I numbly exclaimed as I checked through my optic augments to see if I'd been hacked or something. But nothing.

[System Activated]

[Name: David Martinez]

[Race: Human (Nexus 9 Replicant Genetic Modifications)]

[Rank: Rookie]

[Body (Street Brawler & Athletic) - 10]

[Cool (Cold Blooded) - 10]

[Intelligence - 3]

[Reflexes (Blades) - 10]

[Technical Ability - 3]

[Augment Tolerance - 25]

[Tutorial Beginning. Stat explanations? Y/A]

Numbly, I pressed the 'Y'. Is this fucking real?--Whatever. I die and wake up in a new body and in the future. At that point, a system is basically guaranteed. Messed up logic but what isn't messed up about this situation? And Replicants? The engineered beings in Bladerunner? Superhuman and all that jazz? Jeez, this just keeps getting more and more complicated.

That's where the extra muscle mass and conditioning came from. This body wasn't superhuman or Replicant-like before I arrived in it. ROB fuckery, if you ask me. Not that I even met an omnipotent being like in the stories--if I had, I would've asked for a lot more than just the basic physically enhanced package I received. Still, not use complaining or being ungrateful. It's something. At least I got something.

[Body - This stat determines your raw physical power and athleticism. Due to your unique genetic makeup, your Body stat is 50% more effective than normal.]

[Cool - This stat determines your resilience, composure and effectiveness in operating from stealth. Due to your unique genetic makeup, your Cool stat is 50% more effective than normal.]

[Intelligence - This stat determines your netrunning proficiency.]

[Reflexes - This stat determine your maneuverability and ability to react to outside stimuli. Due to your unique genetic makeup, your Reflexes stat is 50% more effective than normal.]

[Technical Ability - This stat represents your technical know-how.]

[Augment Tolerance - This stat determines your affinity with Cyberware and Bioware augmentations. The higher this stat, the more you can resist the negative effects of Cyberware while also gaining more benefit from the same augment.]

[The maximum you can raise a stat via training is 25 and any further improvements need to come from enhancements which will max out at 40. The only exception to this rule is Augment Tolerance which cannot be trained or enhanced in anyway and is set from birth.

[As Augment Tolerance is maxed out, you have gained a Trait. See this trait? Y/A]

I mentally pressed the 'Y' and wondered just how lucky I was to find myself in this body. It's basic stats were above average but otherwise normal. But Augment Tolerance? That came automatically maxed out. Though that probably meant I'd taken over the body of a named character or something. No way a complete randomer would have this level of tolerance for Augments without making some waves in a world ran by Cyberware.

...Even more reason to be ready for any shit that'll come my way.

['Augment Juggernaut' - With such unnatural tolerance for Cyberware and Bioware, you are certainly a rare specimen. You gain even more tolerance and can be equipped with even the most extreme cybernetics and use them without much difficulty and with limited harm. Your body more readily accepts Bioware augments and even improves on them over time meaning you get even more out of Bioware than you already did, your physiology evolving any Bioware installed to a higher level over time and with use.]

Huh. That's some preem shit--and look at that, I'm already using the lingo of the time. But what does this even mean? I got a system after I died and woke up in a new body--Do I even need to do something? Couldn't I just sit around and live in a futuristic dystopia while making some money on the side?

...No, I can't. If this body isn't a randomer but is instead meant for *something*, whatever his destiny was is now mine. Knowing this place, it was most likely a shitty one. Probably died. I've done that before and it's overrated - I ain't gonna just sit around and die. Meaning I have to stand up and do something to make sure I don't die. But what something? The knowledge I can remember about Cyberpunk is pretty basic. Never played the game or the TTRPG the video game was based off of, as far as I can tell.

What I do know is that this place sucks. Capitalism gone wrong, gone stupid, gone fucking deadly just about sums this world up. Memories flashed through my head of classes in History. Corporate wars - literal wars fought by companies for the rights on certain countries, resources and products.

A world where the rich are untouchable and the poor are more exploitable than ever.

I can't see myself existing in such a time and culture without stirring up shit for long. Without a system, I was shit out of luck. With a system, that seemed pretty limited all things considered, I had more luck than the average Night City dweller. And that wasn't a high bar to exceed either. Well, it's better than nothing, right? It says something about training a stat, so I should give that a whirl. Gotta figure out the basis for the stats as well - what's the average, what does '10' in a stat mean, is it good or bad or is that the average.

...Then again, seeing how well conditioned this body looks it most likely isn't average.

Getting up and out of bed, I dropped to the floor and started doing push ups. Because what time is better than the present.

They were easy. Easier than what I could remember in either life. Seamless and efficient, my arms pumped my body up and down one push-up after another. When I hit two-hundred and didn't even feel much of a burn, I knew ten in Body was far from average. Same should apply to all other stats with ten in them then.

I don't feel 'dumb' but I don't feel that clever either - do clever people know they're clever without outside input? - so I guess three could be considered a placeholder for 'average' until I know more.

Stopping my tests, I looked through the memories I had and realised I had school today, "Fuck," I groaned before standing up and grabbing some clothes. I needed to wash my uniform - why did I do that yesterday? Lazy fucker - and I didn't have any spares. Pulling on some black tracksuit bottoms and a baggy black t-shirt, I got out of my room and headed for the laundry machine. I looked around almost instinctively as I left my room and when I got a second to wonder why, I realised this me had a mom but she wasn't home right now.

Huh. Well, whatever.

Walking through the living room, I stopped in front of the washing machine and threw my dirty clothes in. Let's just hope it has enough money to run the full cycle. Sitting down opposite it, I pushed back the panic, worry and curiosity that threatened to overwhelm me. How I got here and why I'm here don't matter nearly as much as just surviving this place. Once I know I'm safe, then I can start getting all philosophical on transmigration and it's reasonings.

But for now, focus. Focus on surviving in this harsh as shit city. Focus on staying alive while you're surrounded by people who carry absurd guns and weapons while also having superhuman augments. Just focus and keep your priorities in check.

First priority - money.

How do you get to the top of the economic ladder in Cyberpunk? Become a Corpo or be born into a high-class Corpo family. The latter's out of the picture - I live in a slum - and the former would take too long. As if to punctuate that thought, the washing machine started beeping and got halfway through saying the cycle was suspended before I kicked it and it started up again--I needed money now.

If the legal way is out, next comes the illegal way. Becoming a Ripperdoc would take too long but apprenticing under one might get me some decent cash and give me the skills to get out on my own. Only problem is that my stats don't exactly seem spread out for that. Technical Ability is at the average and it's a ways to go before hitting the first soft cap.

If the safe-ish illegal way is out...next comes the dangerous illegal way. Joining a gang, basically.

The past me already pushed illegal BDs for Doc at the academy, but that's not enough. I need to try and figure out the gangs in the city before I make any decisions though. Because I know a lot of them are just...less than ideal.

Nobody carries physical cash on them anymore, so my mediocre pickpocketing skills are more useless than usual and I wouldn't know how to run a successful scam with the sorts of cyberware available that would be able to disprove any bullshit I try to say. In the end, I guess I've gotta try and steal physical items that I'd be able to sell. Gotta figure out how I match up against people physically though. If I'm decently even with them because of my stats and Replicant boost, I should be able to beat the crap out of people and just steal valuables for money.

It's brutish as hell but you've gotta make more somehow. The machine in front of me stopped churning, "Especially when this fucking thing won't finish it's goddamn job," I kicked it again but it didn't start up again this time. Giving a groan, I stood up and looked to the living room as something caught my eye, "Mom," I said words that felt familiar to my mouth but partly foreign to my brain.

I hadn't even heard her enter, so focused on my own thoughts. She was sleeping on the sofa instead of in her bed and my memories told me how typical that was for her.

Gloria Martinez, an EMT in Night City. Red hair, dark red eyes and a dermal implant on her right cheek that looked like two red squares placed diagonally. Her skin was pallid but you could tell it was once a healthy tan color. She was lying down on the sofa in the living room, her EMT jacket laid over her and some holographic screens playing adverts above her from the projector in the center of the room.

I was about to walk over to her when she jumped awake and looked about like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. When her gaze finally settled on me, she relaxed and gave a tired smile, "Morning mijo," she said before yawning.

"Long night at work?" I asked, worry slipping into my tone so easily and so readily that even I was surprised. This body's memories flooded through me and I realised it--this was *my* mom. I was, for all intents and purposes, David Martinez. It was odd to have a mom. Even odder were the positive feelings I had for her, feelings produced by memories I knew were both mine and weren't mine at the same time. This two sets of memory shit is starting to get annoying to deal with.

"Mhm," she hummed as she pressed herself up into a sitting position with creaky joints and tired muscles, "Long night would be one way to put it," she stretched her arms out wide as she yawned again, "Shouldn't you be heading to school, Dee?" she asked.

Pulling up the time in the corner of my eye - jeez, that's fucking trippy - I shrugged in reply, "I've got time to spare, mom. What are you doing laying on the sofa, anyway? I get that you're tired but we don't have the money to pay for the laundry machine let alone medicine for arthritis," I gestured to the machine off to the side with a thumb jerk in it's direction.

Mom--Gloria--whatever, stiffened at my words before giving a wry smile, "I'll take care of it later, okay?" she promised but part of me knew it wouldn't be sorted for a little while. Before the washing machine came rent and after that came food--being able to wash your clothes was a luxury. Not a human need. Mom stopped as if realizing something, "Oh, money, right! You mentioned a wreath update for class. When did you say you need it?"

It took me a moment to find the memory but the process was getting faster and faster - I was fully merging with this David - and I shook my head, "Nah, it's fine, mom. I got Doc to handle it." I walked over to the washing machine and opened it up, picking my school blazer out of the still soaked pile before standing over the sinks and wringing it dry. Grip strength test aside, this showed our dire our monetary situation was.

I, we, needed money. If I can cut corners, or if I have to, I will. The more money mom can save, the better.

"...What do you mean 'handle it'?" her tired voice took on a worried but stern tone.

"It means I'm all set for class. Don't worry about it," I said with my back faced to her as I continued wringing the blazer dry. I got it as dry as it would get and it'd have to dry off the rest of the way to school.

"Don't go cutting corners, David. I've already cashed my paycheck. You'll get it updated right, you hear me?" she sternly continued as she stood up and I turned to face her. She looked real worried, clutching her EMT jacket close to her chest.

I brought the time up before focusing back on mom, "Just don't worry about it and pay rent and all that, okay?" I said before pulling on some sneakers and by some weird instinctive muscle memory, I picked up and put on a gold chain necklace with a cross attached to it. It fit with my clothes so I just left it and turned to mom, "I'm off to school then. See you later! Love ya!" I quickly made my escape. I knew she'd ask me to promise her to get the update and I'm not in the business of making promises I know I won't be keeping.

Just gotta hope Doc didn't fuck me over. He's an asshole but he does know his shit...I think. He does spend most of his time jacking off to sex BDs--not exactly instilling me with confidence but gotta take the risk. The update for the academy wreathe costs way too many eddies.

The door slid open and I hopped through it as it closed behind me again. Entering the hallway, the stink of the surroundings wormed into my nose and made me wince but I reigned in my expression and started walking through the hallway - the quicker I exit the hallway and the megabuilding itself, the better. Gotta actually get some fresh air...or as fresh as Night City air can be.

People lesser off than even me were sitting around either asleep or close to it, bottles of beer and liquor surrounding them. The place was a pigsty. So I just focused on getting outta here.

When I got to the stairs, some dude was mad dogging me with her cybernetic eyepieces while frowning and tapping his baseball bat on his shoulder. Classic Night City lowlife. I ignored him and walked to the stairs before stopping upon the sight of them - they were covered entirely in trashbags and shit people had thrown out of their apartments. Sighing, I realized this was how it always was and turned to the bench placed next to the divider and stepped up onto it before jumping off.

I plummeted about twenty feet into some empty cardboard boxes and trash which completely stopped my fall before I continued walking.

The sun could barely shine down here and when I looked up, I could only see the barest amount of light breaking through the metal canopy. I wonder how anyone who lives here gets any Vitamin D? With such fascinating thoughts going through my head, I made my way down the street and out of the megabuilding before I was finally able to breathe some fresh(ish) air and feel the sun on my face. Nice.

Night City seemed...alright. Bad things aside, it was a world filled with sci-fi levels of advanced technology. You could get and have whatever you wanted if you had the money for it. Though despite that, the place I was in didn't look the best - it was filled with gray and dirty white coloring and seemed focused more on industry than actually looking nice. There was also a bunch of shit happening wherever I looked. Unattended kids sitting on the sidewalk, a few guys with weird machines attached to their groins jacking them off and a bunch of arguments all involving one of the participants pulling a gun on the other--a truly chaotic place.

Still, I felt a bit of excitement in my chest. I mean, I'd just died, you know? And now I'd been given a second life. I felt like I was on cloud nine, all things considered. A second chance is something everyone wants and I got to have a second chance in the *future*. If anything, it's interesting and exciting and I'm ready to accept it with open arms.

Within a certain amount of time I'd got on an NCART and made my way to the City Center. More specifically, Corpo Plaza where Arasaka Academy was.

Corpo Plaza was filled with some pretty cool stuff, not gonna lie. Giant holograms flowed through the sky above me--it just looked preem as hell. The adverts did their job as well. I could go for some of the augments they were offering. Arms that could guarantee the ability to punch through concrete and metal? Fucking nova, man. Useful too.

As I was imaging myself with the ability to casually punch through steel, my nose caught the smell of something...nice. Which was weird because even Corpo Plaza stank of smoke and overpriced perfumes. I looked around for whatever was giving off that smell but found jack shit.

"I guess merging is fucking with my brain," I rubbed at my nose as I whispered under my breath and got on my way to the academy.

First, I go to school. Then I try to make some money. ???. Finally, profit.

. . .

Sitting on the weird chair of the classroom - a neck, back and ankle brace that were all connected with what looked like hard light constructs - I pulled the out of date wreath onto my forehead and looked at the giant hologram of the AI that was supposed to be our teacher. A bald woman dressed up in a weird mix between futuristic and 80s fashion. Guess after eighty years, they're coming back, huh?

"Good morning to you, class," the synthetic voice of the hologram spoke, "Today's attendance..." it froze for a split second before continuing, "Zero absences." It's robotic, ice-blue eyes landed on me, "Martinez, David. You are not in compliance with the Academy's dress code," it held no prejudice in it's tone but a few of my classmates turned to look at me with the type of stink eye only rich people could give to those not as well off as they were.

"Clothes are at the cleaners. Spares are there too. Sorry," I nonchalantly explained with my hands in my pockets. In truth I was a little worried about my wreath and the update. If whatever Doc did doesn't cut it...fuck, it'll cost more money in the end. Should I have just brought a new wreath? Part of me blanched at the idea of standing out because of being so poor but in the end, shit like that didn't matter, "On second thoughts, teach, I'm passing today's lesson. My wreath hasn't been updated and I ain't paying for it either."

The dirty looks got even worse, turning from somewhat subtle disdain to outright and in your face contempt, while the AI's hologram quirked an eyebrow, "I must implore you to buy the update, Mr. Martinez. Need I remind you that failure to follow a teacher's requests will lead to a permanent mark on your record and that you already have two - one further mark and the principle will have to get involved."

"Yeah, yeah, do what you gotta do," I replied - I didn't wanna be a Corpo scumbag or wage slave anyway. I'd rather not risk Doc's crappy work putting my mom into debt with Arasaka, even if it meant me getting kicked out of the academy. Why not just buy the update? The update was thousands of eddies. That's enough for this month's rent AND the next month's too. Not to mention food, paying bills and insurance--we just don't have the money to spare for me to be fucking around in some cushy private school that treats everyone like they can just fork out a thousand eddies on the casual.

Katsuo, one of the snobs of the class, tried to call me over the Net but I denied the call and just leaned back into my 'seat'. Better safe than sorry.

A few minutes later as the class went on with their lesson, a guy dressed up in a fancy suit entered the room and smiled a plastic smile my way, "Mr. David Martinez?" he asked and I nodded in reply, "Please follow me. The principle wishes to see you. Your mother has also been notified of what's happening and is on her way."

...Yikes. She's gonna beat my ass when she gets here--or when we leave. Either way, she's gonna try and take my head off. But calling mom in for this? As far as I know, the 'mark' system is a disciplinary system based around five marks as a whole. I've only just hit three which is detention, usually. Suspension at worse. But if he's calling mom in, they're gonna try and push the subject of me moving schools, aren't they? Fucking classist snobs. I'm an A* student and three marks is all it takes for me to be considered for an exchange to another school.

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you Arasaka Academy. Not looking for results but for connections. Nepotism at it's finest as well, seeing as the majority of the people her have parents or elder siblings who work for Arasaka. I'm the odd one out which is why I get such different treatment.

God knows it ain't because of my behavior. I'm not even the worst delinquent here.

Walking in silence along the way to my destination, we finally arrived outside the fancy door for the principle's office. The plastic-faced man gestured for me to take a seat outside the office, which I did. About a minute later, mom came round the corner looking haggard and very pissed off. When her eyes landed on me, they narrowed and I did my best to not piss her off anymore with my 'I have no regrets for what I just did' look.

Before she could start on me, the door slid open, "Please, Mrs. Martinez. Enter. You too, David."

The principle's deep voice echoed out into the hallway and I stood up, entering without wasting any time while being followed quite closely by mom, "We'll talk on the ride home, David," she whispered with a no-nonsense tone before looking to the principle with a somber face, "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience my son has caused, principle."

We both sat down opposite the man and I had to restrain a sigh.

Is it bad that I kinda wanna die again? Just so I can escape this situation? Fuck, man.