"Respawn location: unlocked. Achievement: Dumpster Baby."
That's the first thought Kael had when he opened his eyes.
Which was impressive, considering he was face-down in actual garbage.
Sticky noodles clung to his cheek.
Something crawled over his neck.
And above him, a busted neon sign flickered 'LIVE GIRLZ 24/7'.
Except the "I" and "R" were dead, so it just read: 'L VE G Z.'
"…What the actual fuck." Kael sat up, gagging. "Did I die in my sleep and wake up inside a Steam sale version of Cyberpunk 2077?"
His voice was hoarse, his skull felt like someone had headbutted him with a truck, and when he looked at his left hand chrome.
Literal chrome.
Fingers glinting in the neon light like he was auditioning for Transformers 9: Broke Edition.
"Okay, okay, breathe." He smacked his own face. "This is a dream. Or VR. Or… holy shit, did I get kidnapped by Mark Zuckerberg?"
[System Initialization… Booting Godfather.exe]
Kael froze. "Who the fuck said that?"
[Congratulations, Host. You've unlocked: The Godfather System.]
[Warning: May cause hallucinations, sociopathy, or unexplainable erections.]
Kael blinked. "Oh cool. Voices in my head. And not even sexy ones. Just… Windows XP startup vibes."
[Correction: I'm not Windows XP. I'm more like MafiaGPT. Think less Clippy, more Tony Soprano.]
Kael snorted. "Great. I reincarnated into a cyberpunk nightmare, and my cheat system is… a mob boss Alexa."
[Disrespect detected. -5 Respect Points.]
"…Respect Points? What is this, GTA with a personality disorder?"
Kael staggered to his feet, brushing slime off his hoodie.
The alley smelled like piss, oil, and failed dreams.
Rain hissed as it hit buzzing neon signs.
Somewhere nearby, gunfire crackled, followed by someone screaming "I'll uninstall your kidneys!"
"Yup," Kael muttered. "Definitely not Kansas anymore."
[Mission Generated: Don't die in the next 10 minutes.]
[Reward: Existence.]
[Penalty: Nonexistence.]
Kael squinted. "That's… not even a mission. That's just life."
[You're welcome.]
He stumbled out of the alley, nearly tripping over a homeless cyborg mumbling about firmware updates.
The street was alive: hover-cars zipped overhead, holographic ads screamed.
"Upgrade your lungs today! First puff free!", and vendors yelled about discount noodles next to stalls selling black-market eyeballs in jars.
"Jesus," Kael muttered. "This is like if Twitter and Detroit had a baby… and then that baby smoked crack."
A group of kids with glowing tattoos brushed past him, laughing.
They didn't even glance at him.
And that's when it hit him.
"Wait. Hold up." He pressed his hands to his face. "I died, right? I was what the hell was I doing?"
His memories were scrambled.
Bits of his old life flickered: cheap beer, shitty apartment, doomscrolling memes at 3 a.m.
Then darkness. Pain. Nothing.
"…Fuck," he whispered. "I died. And now I'm here. But whose body is this?"
He looked at his reflection in a cracked holo-billboard.
Not his old face.
Younger.
Sharper.
Eyes glowing faint blue like someone stuck LEDs behind his pupils.
"Bro… I'm hot." Kael tilted his head. "Wait, am I finally main character material?"
[Correction: You're still broke, still dumb, and currently standing in traffic.]
Kael jumped back just as a hover-bike screamed past, almost clipping him.
"…Thanks, asshole."
[You're welcome.]
Two men stepped out of the crowd, blocking his way.
Matching jackets, ugly tattoos, and cheap chrome arms.
Their gang logo looked like a dick-shaped dragon.
"Yo, chrome-boy," one sneered. "That hand of yours looks expensive. Why don't you hand it over?"
Kael squinted. "…Did you just mug me with a dad joke? 'Hand it over'? Really? Out of all the lines in existence, that's the one you went with?"
The thug blinked. "What?"
"Listen, man, if you're gonna rob me, at least commit. Like, say, 'Your arm looks heavy—
let me lighten the load.' Boom. Terrifying and stylish. But you? You sound like my uncle at a barbecue."
The other thug cracked his knuckles. "Think you're funny, huh?"
Kael grinned. "Oh, I don't think. I know. The real question is whether you're about to prove Darwin right."
[New Mission: Survive Your First Mugging.]
[Reward: Street Cred +1.]
[Penalty: Respawn in Hell.]
Kael groaned. "System, couldn't you give me, like, a gun?"
[No.]
"…Fuck you."
[Get in line.]
"...huh???"
The first thug lunged.
Kael panicked, ducked, and swung his chrome fist.
CRACK.
The guy crumpled like a beer can at a frat party.
Kael blinked at his hand. "Holy shit. I just one-punched that dude. Call me… Gen-Z Saitama."
The other thug snarled and whipped out a knife. "You're dead, punk!"
Kael backed up. "Whoa, whoa, easy, Rambo. Let's talk about this. Maybe do a little breathing exercise? Y'know, in through the nose, out through the..."
The thug lunged.
Kael's survival instincts screamed.
He kneed the guy in the crotch, then smashed his metal elbow across his face.
The knife clattered to the ground.
Both thugs were down.
Kael stood there, panting, heart racing.
The System spoke.
[Mission Complete: Survive Your First Mugging.]
[Reward: Street Cred +1.]
[Bonus Loot: Check their pockets, genius.]
Kael crouched and rifled through their stuff.
He found crumpled bills, a busted lighter, and a half-eaten hotdog.
He stared. "No fucking way."
He took a bite.
It was cold.
Wet.
Possibly older than Jesus.
"…Tastes like depression."
[Congratulations. You've unlocked Achievement: Rock Bottom Gourmet.]
Kael laughed until his ribs hurt. "I died, got reborn, ate a garbage hotdog, and beat up two dollar-store cyborgs. Peak character development right here."
Then his laughter died down.
He stared at his reflection again in the rain-slick street.
"…But seriously. Why me? Why here? And who the fuck did this body belong to?"
The System went quiet.
For once, no snark.
Just a low noise.
Neon buzzed overhead.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Kael clenched his chrome fist, rain dripping off his knuckles.
"Fine," he muttered. "If this city wants me dead, it better try harder. I'm not going out like trash again."
[Welcome, Kael. The streets are yours. Try not to embarrass yourself.]
Kael smirked. "Too late for that."