Chapter 2: Escape Successful? Well… Only a Little Bit
Lying in freezing water surrounded by corpses was definitely not what anyone would call a pleasant experience. But driven by a powerful will to survive, Yogan clenched his teeth and endured. To maximize the chances of his plan succeeding, he forced himself to dive to the bottom of the bathtub, using the other bodies as cover.
As the chaotic footsteps and the furious shouting of the Scavenger leader gradually faded, followed by the slam of a door, Yogan knew the first part of his plan had worked. He slowly rose, carefully minimizing any sound his movements made in the water. Gently, he peeled back a small corner of the plastic sheet covering the tub and cautiously scanned the room. Fortunately, the Scavengers had either left in a hurry after discovering their "cargo" missing or assumed that a room filled with "leftovers" wasn't worth locking.
Yogan crept toward the bathroom door. Just then, the sound of rummaging reached his ears, and the hope he had begun to feel sank again.
"Damn it. There's still one Scavenger left!"
Using the half-open door as cover, he peered through the crack and spotted a Scavenger with a full cybernetic right arm digging through boxes, looking for something.
There was no way Yogan, with his untrained body, could go head-to-head with a gang member who had literally replaced a limb with a cybernetic one—and likely carried a gun.
That's when a few translucent red lines of text suddenly appeared in his vision:
[System Initialization]
[Hostile Entity Detected]
[Perception Enhancement Activated]
[Targeting Receptor Blockade Engaged]
Immediately, Yogan's panic faded, replaced by an eerie calm. His senses sharpened to an unnatural degree—details he would never have noticed before stood out in sharp clarity. He could feel every part of his body responding with precise coordination. Each breath and movement felt like they had been meticulously programmed.
"So this body I transmigrated into... has a secret after all," Yogan thought.
Still, the "golden finger" didn't provide a direct way out of the mess he was in. Enhanced senses or not, sneaking past a cybernetically enhanced gang member was nearly impossible. Not to mention, the Scavenger likely had a gun.
Just as Yogan was running out of ideas, the Scavenger let out a satisfied whistle. He pulled out a massive backpack from a pile of junk—easily half a man's height and clearly heavy.
After finding the bag, the Scavenger didn't linger. Soon after, Yogan heard a door open and close, followed by complete silence.
He waited a few more moments, then carefully emerged from his hiding spot.
To be safe, Yogan quickly checked the entire hideout.
The Scavenger den consisted of two small apartments merged together, with a knocked-out wall creating a makeshift corridor. Along the corridor, makeshift dividers of plastic sheets and trash marked several cramped operating spaces, equipped with filthy surgical tools.
Yogan considered leaving through the front door, but fearing the Scavenger might return, he decided to look for another way out.
Windows became the next best option.
He opened the window in the living room and found the exterior wall of the building covered in pipes, AC units, and various pieces of unknown equipment. These eyesores were now his best escape route.
With the building seemingly empty, now was the time to flee.
Before leaving, Yogan "borrowed" a bulky work jumpsuit and a baseball cap from the Scavenger—just enough to help him blend in.
Half an hour later, Yogan landed in the alley behind the building, using the wall's external fixtures to climb down.
Thanks to the system, he had maintained calm during the descent, controlling every motion with robotic precision. But once his feet hit solid ground, he let out a long breath of relief.
As his mind began to relax, the system responded again.
[Environmental Change Detected]
[System Rebooting]
Suddenly, all the suppressed emotions rushed back—terror at facing an armed Scavenger, fear of heights, nerves from the climb. The overwhelming flood of feelings knocked Yogan to his knees. He collapsed, trembling, soaked in cold sweat. His chest tightened with anxiety, and tears welled up in his eyes.
"Damn... that side effect is insane."
But this system reboot gave Yogan some insight into how it worked.
"I think it activates based on how threatened I feel. When I'm in danger, it turns on. Once the danger passes, it shuts off."
"So far, it seems there's no time limit for activation—but every time it boots up, it needs time to cool down. The side effects are brutal. Best to avoid using it unless absolutely necessary."
As his emotions gradually settled, Yogan decided to find somewhere safe to process what had just happened.
"To be honest, this cyberpunk world sucks," he muttered. "Still, I guess it's better than waking up in Warhammer 40K."
"Gangs everywhere, corporations that want to squeeze every drop of value out of your bones… And worst of all, I don't even have an identity here."
Still, there was one silver lining: the previous owner of the work suit had a habit of carrying cash. At least Yogan wouldn't starve for the next meal.
"First step, find a job... then—"
Suddenly, the world spun. Yogan was tackled and pinned to the ground, his arms twisted painfully behind his back.
Before he could react, something cold and metallic pressed against the back of his head.
A sultry female voice spoke, but the words were chilling.
"Ten seconds. I ask, you answer. Fail, and you lose your head."
The system was still rebooting, leaving him unable to suppress his fear. Panic took over, and Yogan let out a high-pitched, undignified shriek he never thought he was capable of.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH—!"
The cold barrel pressed harder against his skull. "Crying counts against your time."
[Lethal Threat Detected]
[Emergency Subsystem Activating]
The sudden system activation silenced Yogan instantly. Under the deadly pressure of the gun, he blurted out everything that had happened since his arrival in this world.
Apparently, his story sounded too far-fetched.
"You messing with me, punk?"
He could feel the gun against his skull growing heavier with impatience.
[System Overload Imminent]
Panic surged back into his mind. Involuntarily, he blurted out in his native dialect, "No! Please, mercy, beautiful lady, spare my life!"
"Hah. Interesting," the woman chuckled, easing the pressure of the gun slightly.
For whatever reason, his home dialect seemed to buy him a little time.
"If you don't want to die, put your hands up, fingers spread, flat on the ground. Try anything stupid, and I'll blow your head off. Got it?"
Yogan nodded frantically. The woman slowly released her grip. Ignoring the numbness in his arms, Yogan carefully laid his hands on the ground in what could only be described as the most obedient pose he had ever taken.
She quickly patted him down, checking every possible hiding place. Unfortunately, Yogan had nothing on him except the scavenged work suit and a few eurodollars, which she returned after inspecting.
"Now roll over. Keep those hands where I can see them."
Yogan complied and finally got a look at his captor.
She was breathtaking. No other word fit.
Her honey-toned skin was flawless. Even the most filtered, augmented celebrities he'd seen in his previous life paled in comparison. Vibrant eyeshadow and deep red lips framed rebellious, striking features. Her outfit was a gaudy mix of bright colors, but instead of clashing, it made her stand out like a fashion icon of chaos.
Only one thing marred the perfect image: the right side of her head was completely shaved, while the rest of her fiery red hair swept to the left in an asymmetrical, edgy cut.
If this were his old life, Yogan might have stared at her all day. But right now, he wished he had never met her.
Especially with her finger still resting on the trigger.
She raised an eyebrow, a knowing look flashing in her eyes. She stepped closer, her gaze scanning his chest, then his damp bloodstained shirt.
Her pupils briefly glowed blue.
Apparently satisfied, she holstered her gun and yanked him to his feet. To Yogan's surprise, she was slightly taller than him.
She slung an arm around his shoulder.
"Sorry about that. You know how it is in our line of work—you can't be too careful."
It was the closest Yogan had ever been to a woman. But all he wanted was to get away.
"Since it's just a misunderstanding, I'll be on my way, yeah?"
He had already started to move as he spoke, but her arm tightened like a vice. He couldn't budge.
A teasing laugh tickled his ear. Yogan felt like a sheep in a wolf's grip.
Then came the familiar chill—her gun pressed to his waist.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I've got one more thing I need your help with."
Yogan swallowed hard and put on his best obedient puppy smile.
"Helping a beautiful lady like you… would be my honor."