Reincarnator

"Finally, in sports, the cybernetically-enhanced athletes of the Neon League are set to face off in a high-stakes match that is sure to draw a crowd. Stay tuned for the latest updates on this and other stories, only here on the Swift Star News."

Michael ignored the advertisements and glanced at the uneven block of metal at the edge of his table with furrowed brows, sipping down the cup of NutriFluid.

His predecessor had acquired this item from the black market. As a mere cluster of assistive nanites, it might have served well as a paperweight. However, now, he felt cornered.

Michael pondered for a moment before releasing a defeated sigh. He was financially depleted and had no alternative but to make use of the assistive nanites.

He extended his hand toward a blue vial amidst the array of test tube liquids scattered across his table. Taking care not to spill the liquid, he delicately released a drop of the acid onto the so-called assistive nanites that the trader had gifted him.

It was the standard test to know if the constellations of nanites was genuine.

"Tssssss!"

Suddenly, the block of metal began to sizzle, and its surface coating started melting away, emitting black foam and gas as a result of the reaction. In the blink of an eye, the true nature of the block became apparent.

Michael's expression turned grim, and his heart sank. This wasn't assistive nanites; it was nothing more than a plain block of metal!

The middle-aged black market trader had fooled his predecessor by adding a layer of programmed electrode coating over the metal block, tricking his Neuro AI into believing it was genuine nanites.

What kind of nonsense was this? Even with his usual cautious nature, he had still fallen for it. Losing the 2nd-gen nanites was bad enough, but now even the free ones turned out to be fake!

Michael couldn't help but feel like he had stepped into one of those back alley Ripperdoc deals gone wrong. There was even the nagging thought that the 2nd-gen nanites he purchased might have had the same dirty trick pulled on them, like some corporate sabotage straight out of Neon city.

Michael suddenly released a manic laughter which then got louder and then eventually turning to a croaking sound that sounds like one of a dying cat.

* * * * *

[User Info]

[Michael Therian]

[Rank: Street Runt]

[Credits: 1272]

[Cellular Diagnostics]

[Strength: 0.6]

[Physique: 0.6]

[Reflex: 0.9]

[Intelligence: 1.2]

[Cell-biofuel: 100/330J]

[Cyberwares]

[Neuro-Morphic Interface]

[Life-level]

[Undefined]

[Skill-ware]

[Basic Brawl]

[Cyberspace] (Common) (lvl. 1)

<Status>

[Lightly injured(Blink twice within a second to view details]

It had been over a week since he transmigrated. Over the past few days, Michael had gotten used to this world as well as its cyberpunk aspect.

The cell diagnostic panel excited him for thee first few days before her realised it wasn't anything special, every one had a such interface. The excitement soon faded after a few days.

During this period, he had also visited the black market to find the trader who the previous Michael had made the purchase with but the man was no where to be found.

With his last few credits, he had even tried to put out a bounty on the trader through the black market's secure site. However, to his dismay, the credits came back a few days later. It seemed the trader had either met a grim fate or had managed to disappear like a ghost in the neon-lit streets of Neon City!

Michael was starting to wonder if the whole thing had been some messed-up braindance, but the searing pain from his mangled right fingers quickly reminded him it was all too real.

Without the leftover stims that idiot had cooked up before the incident, he might not have made it through these past few days in this poverty-infested district of Night City.

He had spent countless hours researching hie he could recreate his healing stims from the other world and had been experimenting with different combinations of chemicals and substances.

Healing stims could be bought from the local Ripperdoc to patch up his body , as long as one had enough Cr. to spare.

But Michael's predecessor had his entire stash of Credits from a decade's hustle jacked, along with his shot at leveling up.

There was no way he could score a healing stim without the necessary credits. Things might've gone down differently if he'd opted for that nanite merge.

It would've taken him a month to patch up those busted fingers and cracked ribs. But, alas, reality had other plans.

The old Michael used to boast about being a cut above the usual gutter rats who'd stoop to anything for survival in the sprawl, but now, his sole ticket out of this poverty-stricken hellhole had evaporated.

He'd become just another face in the crowd, an average street rat.

Carefully picking up the boiling acid with the make shift clamp, Michael carefully walked over the trash littered his floor as though he was walking on straight ground.

His eyes were wide open and a look of anticipation and anxiety clouded his complexion.

"This was it! The healing serum he had been trying to create for over a week. This time, it would be completed after mixing this two liquids."

In his previous life, Michael was a regular run of the mill scientist who had his license revoked and sacked due to his unorthodox research into cancer.

To earn money and resources to continue his research, he resorted into making drugs for a cartel and ended up dying to a bullet in a gang fight.

Now that he had arrived, he delved deeper into his research. In a world defined by remarkable technological and scientific progress, it was the ideal environment to bring his formula to fruition.

Employing his cutting-edge Neuro interface, he meticulously scrutinized the array of available healing formulas. After countless hours spent navigating the labyrinthine web of Cybernet, making meticulous edits and crafty alterations, he ultimately perfected the formula!

If he was still on earth right now, he would have been the first person to create the cure fire cancer!

As a Mixer, he understood that without the full use of both fingers, he'd be rendered virtually useless. In a world where self-sufficiency and survival skills were paramount, his inability to fend for himself would inevitably lead to a swift demise, it wouldn't take long before he becomes another corpse on the street!

But if he was successful in creating the serum, he could heal himself and sell it in the black market for a decent amount of credits.

With those funds, his prospects of acquiring a superior Nanite became considerably brighter. Unlike the previous decade-long struggle, he could now potentially achieve his goal in just a matter of months, thanks to his newfound resources.

As Michael reached the midpoint of the table, his body suddenly convulsed, wracked by an excruciating pain that coursed through every fiber of his being.

Veins bulged from his head, neck, and chest as he silently endured the convulsions. The searing agony pierced his organs, spine, and brain, the torment lasting for what seemed like an eternity, before gradually subsiding.

By now, Michael's apron had become entirely drenched in sweat. As he regained his composure, he noticed that the vial in his trembling hand had tilted slightly.

A look of alarm crossed his face, and as he attempted to readjust his grip, a single, precious drop of the liquid within the test tube slipped through his fingers.

Gravity took it's course as it fell on a straight line, landing directly on top of the ordinary uneven block of square metal.

Michael released a massive sigh of relief. Had the drop of liquid had landed on his feet, it would have resulted in a substantial hole spanning from his leg, eating all the way up to his thigh, a dire consequence narrowly averted.

Even with his incredibly, tempered behavior, he couldn't help but breakout in cold sweat.

The drop of acid began burning through the uneven block of metal like hot oil to a block of cheese.

Smoke erupted as a violent chemical reaction took place. Sizzling sounds erupted.

Michael wasn't shocked by the sound of decay. The liquid he was holding was more than ten times powerful than sulfuric acid and was powerful enough to burn through an old era bank vault, therefore he wasn't particularly concerned by the corrosion of the uneven block of metal.