The Midsummer Night's Dream Club was, well, mainly a club for "superdream" experiences…
Alright, to be more specific: mostly adult superdream simulations, plus machine-dancers, or contracted cyber-dolls, with virtual reality integration to create whatever paradise you dreamed of.
Of course, you could just watch such vids at home, but the equipment here was top of the line—machine girls of every model and body type, hyper-realistic silicone motorized toys, even Armstrong-type Armstrong rotary cannons with custom add-ons. VIP clients could even commission tailor-made black-market superdreams. Human imagination, when it came to indulging desire, had no limits.
Really though, for a business meeting? A quick drink would do. Coming to a place like this made it look as if he couldn't score women otherwise, tarnishing his reputation…
Li Pan studied the menu carefully, then spent 1,500 credits on a pole-dancer model, deposited his weapons, and went into a private room.
Security here really wasn't bad. Midsummer Night's Dream had its own subnet, custom ICE firewalls, in-house hackers, and cameras that blurred out client faces and IDs. Nobody wanted to be ambushed by hired thugs while naked with a doll.
Of course, no system was perfect. A skilled hacker could still crack it, or a cyber-doll might be compromised with malware. But compared to picking up a streetwalker in some dark alley, this was downright legitimate.
Li Pan set the machine girl to performance mode. A short while later, Akiyama Masako knocked and entered.
She wore a trench coat, sunglasses, and a mask—a woman sneaking off to cheat on her husband. When she slipped off the coat, her curves were fully on display. At first glance she looked naked, but on closer inspection she wore a skintight flesh-colored bodysuit, like a gymnast's leotard.
Li Pan grinned. "So cautious. Want to take this to bed while we talk?"
Masako nodded and pulled out a connector from her coat. "That's best. Plug in."
A military-grade comms adapter? So this was serious.
Li Pan recognized it immediately: she was using her own body as a terminal. Once he jacked in, her consciousness would power down, leaving her like a puppet. The other side would then remote-call through a hidden channel.
They clearly wanted secrecy. If Midsummer Night's Dream had a backdoor like this, it must be one of their safehouses.
Well, since he was here anyway, Li Pan didn't hesitate. He lifted Masako onto the bed and linked into her jack.
Light flashed. A blurred digital projection appeared in the room.
"Manager Li, a pleasure. I am Amakusa Shirō."
"Amakusa Shirō?"
Li Pan frowned.
Obviously an alias, but a pointed one. The historical Amakusa Shirō had led a peasant rebellion against the Oda clan—crushed brutally, but forever remembered as the symbol of resistance. Modern underground groups loved to invoke his name.
In short: overthrow Takamagahara.
Damn. So the Akiyama family—loyal Oda retainers for generations—were rebels after all?
"Does the Son of Yomi have guidance for me? Come to witness Takamagahara's fall?"
The name Takamagahara referred to the divine realm in myth. Below it lay Ashihara, the human world, and Yomi, land of the dead. A rebel like Amakusa, who rose again and again, was dubbed the Son of Yomi Reborn.
Time was limited, so the figure didn't waste words.
"Takamagahara was already doomed after the eighth shogun's assassination. What remains is decay.
The Tomb of the Demon God—was that destroyed by you? Only your firm could pull off a dimensional server collapse that spectacular."
Li Pan shrugged. Go ahead, rat me out.
"And the Divine Palanquin—surely it's in your hands," Amakusa pressed. "Name your price."
The Divine Palanquin?
Li Pan hesitated. Truthfully, he didn't have it. When he looted the battlefield, he'd grabbed what was worth money. Server pods and divine relics? He'd left them.
So either they'd been nuked… or Shiranui Kotaro had taken them. The sealing ninja had plenty of time, and unlike him, probably understood their value.
Yes—if the Divine Palanquin really was the master key to Takamagahara, Kotaro would never have left it.
Meanwhile Amakusa assumed Li Pan was calculating his ask.
"The Palanquin is useless to you, even dangerous. But it is the master key to Takamagahara's divine system. Whoever holds it can seize the whole nation. Every corporate dog will come for it. If I can't secure it, I'll spread word and let a corporate war erupt. That works in my favor too."
Li Pan smirked.
"You think you've cornered me? Believe it or not, I could hand the Akiyamas to Section Three tomorrow, and they'd haul you in."
Amakusa chuckled. "Go ahead. To the Akiyamas I am Red Tengu. To the Fleet, I'm an officer. If Security Bureau arrests me, worst case I'm branded 'radical' and released. 'Amakusa Shirō' is a name known to only three people here—yourself included."
A triple agent? Maybe more?
"What the hell are you playing at?"
"What else? I told you my name in good faith. I intend to bring Takamagahara to ruin. Wouldn't handing me the Palanquin serve your company better than letting their own rebuild with it? You destroyed Oda, didn't you?"
Li Pan pondered. Amakusa checked his timer.
"I've said enough. As long as you have the Palanquin, fine. I'll wait. We still need preparation to destroy Takamagahara. If you want to bear the risk, keep it. Later we'll—"
"Wait. I'll sell."
Amakusa blinked, surprised that Li Pan agreed so quickly. "Then state your terms."
"You're Fleet, right? You can get spice."
"Ah… spice."
The man was startled, then nodded. "Tricky, but possible. How much?"
Li Pan shrugged. "Two tons."
"What—the hell?! Are you insane?!"
Amakusa nearly lost it.
"You call that bargaining?! Two tons? Even Takamagahara didn't have that before they lost!"
"So strict, huh? Fine, one ton."
"Max—ten kilos!"
Li Pan stared. "Ten kilos to buy Takamagahara? Fine, when do you deliver?"
"Not me, you. Spice is a hundred million per kilo, internal price—one million a gram. Ten kilos, one hundred billion. Add the Palanquin, and I'll arrange it."
Li Pan sneered. "I know the Fleet's internal cost is half that."
"Check for yourself. Spice is strategic. Every gram logged in the system. I'm already risking my quota to give you this price. Turn it around in a warzone and it sells for thousands of times more. Question is, can you move it?"
Fair point. Spice was the most valuable resource of interstellar war. No ship could jump without it. At critical moments, a single gram could be worth millions. And outside war? Perfume houses still paid fortunes for it.
Li Pan's eyes gleamed. "I had to test you first. What if you're bluffing? Say I gave you a hundred billion and you vanished? Not happening."
Amakusa folded his arms. "Then what do you want?"
"At least one test deal. To build trust. Get me a ship—and five grams of spice. Paid in full."
Amakusa thought, then nodded. "Done. What kind of ship?"
"A Fleet warship, of course. A cruiser, at minimum. Plenty of decommissioned hulls now. Show me you're really Fleet."
"Two months. I'll get you a retired recon cruiser. Weapons stripped, but stealth and decoy field intact. One hundred thirty million credits, cash. Five grams of spice included as sample."
"Deal."
A recon cruiser—for 130 million? New ones cost billions. With stealth and jump masking intact, this was a steal. Whoever Amakusa was, he was willing to gut Fleet assets for his cause.
Li Pan couldn't tell if the man was reckless… or dead serious.
The deal struck, Amakusa wiped the link and disconnected. Li Pan unplugged from Masako and tossed her aside.
A cruiser would need a spaceport dock—tens of thousands per month. To haul that 35-million crate, he'd need another billion or so. If the cargo turned out worthless, he'd be ruined.
Reporting to Monster Corp. would cover costs, but then he'd see no profit at all.
No—better to risk it himself.
First goal: 130 million in two months.
Maybe wiping out the Tojo-kai would be enough…
Masako stirred, groaning. "What… you didn't even touch me?"
Li Pan scowled. "I just negotiated a deal with your boss. What's with the sulky look—did you want me to?"
She glared, furious, then flopped onto the bed. "Fine. Leave."
Li Pan shrugged, then suddenly seized her arms, pinning her.
She gasped. "What are you doing?!"
He ignored her, channeling Nine Yin energy through her meridians.
Masako shuddered, body buzzing with heat and pain, collapsing. "It hurts—ah, please—gentler…"
He finally released her, eyes narrowing. Yes, faint but real.
"Qi."
"You of the Isshinryū school—do you have secret inner techniques? How do you project sword energy when you draw?"
That last swordsman's iaijutsu slash had been devastating. In theory, his own Nine Yin True Dragon Break should've been stronger. How had they pulled it off?
At the name Isshinryū, Masako's eyes cleared with fury. She sat up, clutching her wrists.
"You bastard! Not content to defile me, you want to steal my clan's secrets too? Never! I won't let you!"
Li Pan scratched his head. "How is it stealing? Call it exchange. You run a sword school, don't you? Teach me. That wasn't a cyber-implant trick, was it? With that little qi you have, how did you make it strike so hard?"
If he could learn it, his True Dragon Break would reach its full potential.
But Masako turned away, lips sealed.
"I'll pay tuition. Or better—next time your daughter tries to kill me, I'll let her live. Once. Twice. Or I can just sleep with you again, if you prefer?"
"Disgusting! If you want Isshinryū's secrets, fine. Ten million. My father's dying, my husband lost at war, our dojo collapsing. Ayako's debts are crushing her. Ten million, and I'll become your tutor."
Sounded reasonable enough.
"Alright. Ten million."
Li Pan agreed instantly. Money was just numbers. And better to keep up appearances in front of Amakusa's people.
Masako exhaled, then nodded. "Ten million for Isshinryū's secret art. Very well. But first, I'll show you. Proof I know it."
.
.
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⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
💥 High-voltage cyberpunk. Urban warfare. AI paranoia.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
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