My Cyber Psychosis is Task Prompt

John raised an eyebrow.

His prosthetic eye database, auto-loaded by Black Light, could scan hidden identities of dangerous figures and cover most weaponry visible on the market.

It was the first time he had seen a "non-official" descriptive term like this.

After Black Light’s upgrade through the Pandora Algorithm, some minor changes had yet to be fully uncovered.

John held the robber for a few seconds.

Blood streamed from his cheek to his chin, dripping onto his jacket and the floor, and he started to struggle violently as he shook off dizziness and pain.

John tightened his grip on the man’s throat, warning him sharply by his ear.

"Stop moving. I’m keeping you alive to see if there are accomplices around."

The robber’s eyes widened.

He struggled even more violently, trying to make a sound, forcing John to adjust his grip to avoid crushing his throat.

Clang.

A shadow emerged at the alley’s entrance.

John immediately swung his gun around, restraining his finger with incredible reflexes to avert pulling the trigger.

It was a child.

He had no weapons, only a knife fashioned from metal.

The handle even had duct tape.

"...Damn it."

John cursed under his breath.

Despite countless kills, he wasn’t at the point of mindlessly shooting at a child—unless that knife turned into a shotgun or a bomb, the situation might differ.

[Jun, nigete... Run! (Japanese)]

The robber struggled desperately, kicking the electrical box and knocking John down, yelling for the child to escape, then darting into the alley without looking back.

John didn’t intend to chase.

He stood, surveying the cold street corner, noting the pornography posters on the shuttered door.

Puddles reflected neon signs.

The robber and child were gone, leaving him with the weight of the modified gun in his hand.

"F*ck, what the hell is all this?"

John muttered, sliding the gun back to his waist, suddenly seeing new text pop up before him.

[Mission objective updated]

[Find the robber’s home. (Unachieved)]

[Avoid lethal force. (Optional)]

"F*ck!"

John swore at the air.

This lousy notification came late; he almost pulled the trigger earlier.

Messiah’s Eye activated.

The narrow, cold alley in John’s view was instantly overlaid with gridlines, converting the buildings into a vast data stream.

Moments later, the filter vanished.

Highlighted footprints and handprints appeared on steaming manholes and crumbling concrete walls, gradually fading over time.

John hoisted his hood and followed the trail.

Water dripped from the wet puddles onto his fluffy sweater, leaving dark marks.

Metal vibrated.

A pair of graffiti-covered running shoes splashed through the puddles.

The escapee tried to muffle footsteps and breathing, constantly glancing back down the alley.

"He’s not following."

Air conditioner water dripped down.

The icy liquid slid down his wounded cheek, blood pooling at his lips and neck, his tongue tasting the rustiness of iron.

The robber was just in his teens, both he and his brother were mixed-race, likely sharing the same father based on appearance.

"We lost the gun."

He reached up, removing drying clothes to press against his swollen, bruised nose to stop the bleeding.

"Damn it, this really hurts!"

The boy crouched, wiping his face clean with water, seeming more concerned about other issues than the fracture.

"Mom’s gonna kill me, so... could we say you took the gun to play with, and those Owl Town bastards took it, which is why I got beaten up while trying to get it back?"

His younger brother, called Jun, scratched the wall with a knife.

[Mom won’t believe it.]

His throat was glowing, his throat skin shriveled, seemingly some kind of genetic disease, he could only speak using an old-style implant.

[Why, rob, him.]

"Remember the repairman from the next building? No one knows why they suddenly moved, but I saw... "

The brother wiped off the blood and discarded the clothing.

"A white cop came to warn them, and fired a shot inside the room, the bullet hole was this wide..."

He gestured to his brother with his fingers.

"The scum we just robbed rode in the same car with that cop, I remember that face."

[Very dangerous.]

The two talked as they passed through a tenement, the road above covered by a dome and massive pipes, industrial gas and electricity wires threading the steel jungle.

Electronic signboards and rotating ads illuminated their backs.

The brothers constantly glanced back.

"I feel uneasy."

[Owl Town Gang.]

The younger brother reminded with his rough mechanical voice.

The older brother immediately tightened his leather jacket, pulling him into his shadow.

Occasional pedestrians walked the wet streets, Sakura Cross Street during the day was quiet and oppressive, citizens living beneath skyscrapers rarely squandered their humanity and vitality.

Except for gang thugs.

Several motorcycles roared their engines, shattering the neon spread across the street, boisterous laughter and filthy language floating in the puddles.

Even in the blazing sun of other city areas.

Here remained perpetually damp.

Citizens who hated air conditioner water opened umbrellas, their surfaces woven with rings of lights and fluorescent patterns interlaced, corresponding with distant projection hardening and public garden lanterns.

Beep beep.

Car horns blared a warning.

The Street Racing Gang caused a small traffic jam.

The brothers took the opportunity to dash across the road, merging into another cluster of buildings lined with cheap shops and concrete walls.

[Shop - Akiko’s Beef Bowl]

Two sections of light strips on the sign had burnt out.