My cyberpsychosis is a task prompt

Chapter 228: The Cheater (Thanks to Alliance Leader "Yang Yan Living in a Dream")
"Fuck, shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Fall Guy's muscles are all twitching, like a toy bomb about to explode.

The mosaic face flashed with various gibberish.

He tried to get up, only to find himself pinned down by a switchblade. He simply slumped onto the metal bench, seemingly resigned to his fate, yet excessively calm.

“Sir, you can’t leave a lady in a place like this. Sakura Cross Street is a complete scourge. Even if there are no ghouls, there are gangsters scrambling to pick up corpses.”

"So you're being kind after all?"

"Of course, on my turf, corpses come in and are reduced to ashes before they can leave, and even those who come in breathing have to leave breathing too. That's called being responsible to our clients."

Fall Guys spoke in a sarcastic tone.

He still had a switchblade stuck in his arm.

[Defeat the Fall Guys. (Optional)]

[Leave Fall Guys alone. (Optional)]

John had a real impulse.

The mantis-shaped blade crushed the shoulder blade, blood splattering, then plunged into the center of the mosaic-like face, watching the corpse convulse, electrocute, and die...

John even pictured the events vividly in his mind, as if they had actually happened.

"call--"

He took a deep breath and sheathed the mantis knife in his arm.

The sticky blood was squeezed out of the artificial leather and flowed down the ventilation seams to the fingertips.

"What's up with her?"

“She just needs to sleep, so I added something good to the air system to make her sleep like a dead person.”

"That doesn't sound like a good word."

"What's wrong with it? Dead people don't have nightmares, they don't break out in a cold sweat, and they don't wake up in pain... Death is a peaceful and sacred thing."

"You're more like a priest than the last one."

"Thank you for the compliment."

Yellow mosaic tiles spell out a smiley face.

"Don't worry, sir, she'll wake up in an hour or two, feeling as comfortable as if it were a clear morning with low pollution levels. Humans, no matter how many prosthetic bodies they have, their minds and brains still need proper rest."

Fall Guy stood up as he spoke.

With one arm hanging down, he sat down at the bar and began tapping various hidden buttons.

The bar was crammed with "fleshballs," paired with green escape indicator lights and walls covered in grime, resembling a horror-themed sensory chip.

John helped Gino sit down in the metal chair.

It's as if they never left.

The room was still filled with a rumbling noise.

The difference is that there's more noise from arm repair.

Wow…

The tool fell out of the channel.

Gudong.

A similar prosthetic limb, wrapped in a body bag, fell onto the table shortly afterward.

And so, Fall Guys began to dismantle their own bodies.

He seemed to be in a good mood, his throat rattling like a malfunctioning radio trying to play a complete song.

“You need to rest too. What I just said was for you.”

"Ok?"

John lowered his gaze.

The Fall Guys' bodies blocked half of the light, making the already dimly lit room even more crowded and gloomy, while the mosaic-pieced smiles appeared even brighter.

He was replacing an artificial blood vessel, speaking without looking up.

"Sir, didn't you notice?"

"what?"

"Take a deep breath and feel the back of your tongue."

"..."

John frowned, swallowed subconsciously, and then noticed a faint sour taste in the tip of his throat.

Is the air poisonous?

"It's medicine, sir, but there's a difference..."

Fall Guy shook the intravenous probe in his hand.

"You're starting to lose your sense of taste, aren't you? Insomnia, nightmares, frequent headaches, sudden memories of things from long ago, difficulty concentrating after sitting for a while, needing constant stimulation... like, murder!?"

Mosaic's head is tilted at an odd angle.

"How was it? Did you feel good after killing two ghouls? Because adrenaline can neutralize the side effects, making you subconsciously seek stimulation and make yourself feel better..."

"What the hell do you mean?"

John felt uncomfortable being stared at, and his tone became harsher.

The Fall Guy didn't move his head, maintaining his eerie smile, and pointed at John with his newly repaired arm.

"Martyr GTX, I recognize this thing. Where did you get it from, East or West?"

"..."

John raised his blood-stained hand.

While I was cleaning at the entrance, I lifted my work jacket and a small section of green numbers that were counting down was visible.

The Fall Guy let out a nasty laugh. "We're going to die anyway, why worry about so much? The infamous Mr. John, there's no shortage of stories about you on the streets."

He dropped the pretense and called John by his name directly.

"Let's be honest and just consider this a friendship."

What if I'm not willing?

"This news isn't that important. In the entire Eden City, there aren't many people left who can recognize the Martyr GTX. There aren't many left, and everyone knows where they are. There are two in the West District, one in the East District, and the rest are in the company's hands."

Fall Guys counted the beginner's index and then turned around.

"And yours?"

[Answer truthfully. (Optional)]

[Refusing to answer. (Optional)]

Lying. (Optional)

"Fake!"

John felt a sudden, inexplicable throbbing pain in his head.

He felt his vision blurring with tears, which he couldn't wipe away no matter what he did. His prosthetic eye shrunk wildly but couldn't find focus, and a stream of pale yellow data flowed across the surface of the electronic iris...

The scene before my eyes has changed.

"Goods from the West District? Haha, impossible, lying. That means your goods are of dubious origin. The Martyr GTX can't be left with the company; I have to take them back."

A vague conversation flashed through John's mind.

He tried to open his eyes, but saw a blurry image amidst a pattern of black and purple snowflakes.

This feeling is familiar.

Every time John comes into contact with the remains of a corpse at the landfill and reads data through external devices, he "experiences" fragments of the deceased's memories from their lifetime.

This feeling is very similar.

But the protagonist is himself, and it's about things that didn't happen.

"hiss--"

A severe headache knocked John down.

He felt his mind was about to boil over.

Those images are still playing out.

After speaking, Fall Guy suddenly launched an attack.

Large amounts of toxic fumes billowed from the ceiling. After a hard-fought battle, John finally killed his opponent in the rain at the alley entrance.

The siren sounds from far to near.

John was forced to flee Cherry Blossom Cross Street with Gino.

"Ah—Fuck!"

John suddenly looked up, breathing heavily.

He found himself still sitting on the metal stool.

None of what just happened occurred.

[Data redundancy detected, cleaned up, contingency plan 0, checking for abnormal parameters...]

A familiar yet unfamiliar message flashed before my eyes.

The black light did not react at all.

Gino leaned against his shoulder as he slept.

Fall Guys is playing with a vein probe.

He turned his head and smiled.

"Seriously? Is this question that difficult? I'm just asking where you got your stuff from..."

Mosaic's smile remained unchanged.

John stared at his body, then glanced around.

Although I didn't understand what the images that flashed through my mind were, everything felt so real. If I chose to lie, the other person might really change their expression and pounce on me to fight me to the death!

[Answer truthfully. (Optional)]

[Refusing to answer. (Optional)]

Lying. (Optional)

The task prompts are all floating in front of you.

as always.

John hesitated.

He had thought more than once—if he had made different choices at certain moments, would things have gone in a different direction?
But I've never had such a "visual" feeling before.

John, like a cheater, read through the rotten save file.

Why does this happen?

Was the task notification malfunctioning because my body simply couldn't take it anymore?
What is this thing?
John died without ever figuring out whether these "mission prompts" were his own cyberpsychotic disorder or some kind of "super code" that accompanied the Blacklight.

Boom, boom, boom.

A knocking sound brought John back to reality.

Fall Guy has had his arm repaired and sits quietly behind the bar, tapping the buttons with his newly repaired arm.

The other party's patience is almost at its limit.

John hesitated for a moment, then chose to tell the truth.

"East District".

(End of this chapter)