[Connors: "When the density of these lizard-hybrid cells reaches a certain threshold, the user will begin to shift toward a lizard-like form."]
[Connors: "We can keep this density at a very low range, so the cells remain human-oriented and will naturally die off after a long time."]
[Connors: "On a macro level, when cybernetic strength is about four times higher than baseline, this shift appears—but only very slightly."]
[Connors: "If maintained at 1.3–1.7 times strength, the user only needs maintenance every 30 years to keep cells functioning normally."]
[Connors: "If not maintained, no mutation occurs, but the cells will rapidly degrade and die, regressing within a year into a first-generation body with only basic functions."]
This so-called maintenance meant going to an International Gene Cooperation clinic for lizard serum upkeep to boost cell activity.
From a commercial perspective, this restriction was even better than what Leo had expected!
Because with such a limitation, high-demand, high-income groups could be required to undergo frequent maintenance—and when the time came, they could be sold new products as well.
[Leo: "And in the military field?"]
The military section was now led by a new speaker—former Death Soldier Michael.
This ex-Death Soldier had shed the mechanical body installed by Cyber Technology Corp and replaced much of it with cloned organic cybernetics.
Clearly, he was the second human test subject of second-generation cybernetics.
Michael tapped the board, summoning a human model on screen:
[Michael: "In fact, if the user is well-trained and mentally strong, we can implant a small lizard-serum injector directly into the body to maintain artificial muscle activity. This raises stable output to six times human strength, with instant peaks possibly breaking eight times—or even higher, though I can't yet calculate the upper limit."]
In his model, a core control implant appeared, very similar to the "Berserker Module," showing his approach was surprisingly converging with its development.
Stable output numbers already surpassed Jackie's Lizard Berserker Module Type II, though their peak values were roughly equal.
The reason: Jackie not only used artificial muscles, but also had a pair of fully customized "Boxer King" gorilla arms.
At this power level, limitations were not just cellular anymore.
As the simulator rose in intensity, parts of the model turned green, then yellow, finally red.
At red, power increases halted.
[Michael: "In the simulation, red means collapse. Collapse includes—but isn't limited to—cells losing the human–lizard balance, excessive force damaging the tissue, or bones breaking. In short, anything that could cause system failure. First, let's be clear—energy does not appear from nowhere. Greater strength requires greater consumption. Mass-energy conservation still applies."]
Michael added a small storage module to the human model.
[Michael: "By calculation, I added a high-energy fuel reserve unit here. Unlike first-gen, second-gen lizard-muscle cells can efficiently use biochemical energy. So we just need to load organic matter with energy content here."]
Standard second-gen bodies still required external power.
For example, electroactive polymers deformed under electric current, converting electricity into mechanical power—but consuming massive energy.
In the cyberpunk era, batteries still couldn't surpass ethanol-2 in energy density, so large-scale military bodies and exoskeletons used ethanol-2 or even fossil fuels.
The wealthy could ignore this inconvenience—most of their activities were indoors, and even outdoors they had hovercars or vehicles for charging.
But Atlas cybernetics were different. Lizard-hybrid cells stored and used biochemical energy with very high efficiency. Eating food alone could offset much of their energy cost.
[Leo: "Any other reactions to electric stimulation?"]
[Michael: "Of course. Like normal muscle, these respond to electrical stimulation. To some extent, I've also programmed a way to overclock them with overload current. It forces fibers to their physical limits without tipping into lizardization. But it's brutal—the user would feel pain beyond imagination."]
Michael pointed at the skeleton model.
[Michael: "After solving energy, structure becomes the issue. Our strategy gave up bone reinforcement in exchange for higher muscle output and biochemical safety. That means either keeping the original skeleton—too fragile—or replacing it with metals and composites, which trigger stronger immune rejection. We need better structural substitutes."]
This was the exact bottleneck between second-gen and third-gen cybernetics:
Artificial muscle replaced power systems, but skeletal structures still relied heavily on outdated metals.
If bone cells were cultivated with lizard serum, the density of hybrid cells rose—better to pour that quota into muscle instead. Structural strength could be solved separately; precision wasn't necessary here.
In the cyberpunk era, third-gen cybernetics introduced composites like carbon fiber and ceramics—stronger, lighter, more precise. That was the generation most military cybernetics belonged to.
And Leo already had materials to replace these components—better ones.
Dr. Otto appeared beside Michael, pulling up the schematics of his octopus arms.
Yes—while second-gen research neared completion, Atlas had already begun third-gen cybernetics R&D.
[Dr. Otto: "The materials used in the octopus arms are perfect for this skeletal frame. Graphene batteries can serve not only as structure and blast shielding, but also as power sources. And I've found some other biological conductors we can incorporate."]
He displayed a prototype forearm built from octopus-arm materials—already a finished product.
The "other biological material" turned out to be spider silk.
In the animation, custom graphene batteries assembled together. From the gaps, white spider silk extended outward, fusing with attached muscle tissue, forming an entirely new forearm.
Dr. Otto looked at the invention with pride:
This wasn't his favorite project, but he had participated in both the hardware and software system development.
Scientists and engineers exploring these frontiers were like ships sailing into unknown seas.
No one resented fellow travelers—instead, seeing so many colleagues pushing forward together, unveiling new equipment and technology again and again—
It felt like discovering a new continent, and planting their flag on it.
[Dr. Otto: "Animal testing begins next week."]
In the Marvel world, progress was slowed by ethics boards. In the cyberpunk world—none existed.
That meant one successful trial would let Atlas nearly erase the tech gap with the corporate giants in large-scale markets.
Next came fourth-gen cybernetics—such as Sandevistan, a fourth-gen model.
The next generation aimed for full-body integration, enhanced neural systems, top-tier cyber-eyes, and more.
Of course, in the cyberpunk world, fourth-gen wasn't just about performance—sometimes it was pure luxury, flaunting wealth and status.
Little Octopus appeared in the virtual space, looking at the arm built from the same materials it used but with a completely different design. It poked Leo:
[Little Octopus: "Boss, can I try it?"]
Leo thought for a moment. "Maybe someday—but not now."
The cybernetics inspection was over. Leo organized his notes, ready to move to the next report:
The Advanced Machinery Department.
These breakthroughs mattered even more—they tied directly to the African situation and the challenges Atlas Group was about to face.