Cyberpunk Edgerunner: Sorcerer Killer

Toji Fushiguro sat at the edge of an unfamiliar rooftop, the cool night air of Night City brushing against his skin. The city sprawled beneath him, a labyrinth of neon lights and towering structures. He had been here for what felt like hours, yet the sense of disorientation hadn't faded.

"Night City, city of dreams," he muttered, the phrase tasting foreign on his tongue. It was a name that seemed to mock the reality he now faced.

His gaze fixed on a massive digital billboard across the street, its vibrant colors flashing advertisements and news updates. Among the scrolling text, one line caught his attention: "Date: 2075." A jolt of realization struck him. He had been in Shibuya in 2018. Somehow, he had been thrust nearly fifty-seven years into the future.

"No, this isn't the future," Toji muttered to himself. There are no curses in this world. No sorcerers, no jujutsu tech. It's a completely new world, but so much more advanced in technology.

As he pondered his situation, a sudden gust of wind swept across the rooftop, rustling the papers and debris scattered around. The city below continued its relentless hum.

Toji stood up, He had always been a man of focus, commitment and sheer fcking Will, and this new world, with its advanced technology and unfamiliar rules, it was no different. He would adapt, as he always had.

With a final glance at the cityscape, Toji turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Exploring Night City's Districts

Toji's journey through Night City led him to explore its diverse districts,

City Center

The heart of corporate power, City Center was a evidence to human ambition and technological prowess. Towering skyscrapers housed the headquarters of influential corporations, their glass facades reflecting the city's. Toji observed the polished exteriors and the bustling crowds, noting the stark contrast between the corporate elite and the city's underbelly.

Watson

Once a thriving corporate district, Watson had transformed into a vibrant tapestry of cultures and commerce. The Little China subdistrict was alive with the aroma of street food and the hum of market stalls. Kabuki, a sprawling bazaar, offered a maze of goods and services. Despite the area's vibrancy, Toji noted the underlying tension.

Westbrook

Westbrook exuded luxury and entertainment. North Oak was home to the city's elite, with mansions and high-end boutiques lining the streets. Japantown pulsed with energy, its neon-lit streets offering endless entertainment options. Yet, amidst the opulence, Toji sensed the undercurrent of competition and the ever-present shadow of corporate interests.

Heywood

A district of contrasts, Heywood was a blend of affluent neighborhoods and areas grappling with poverty. The streets were alive with community events, but Toji noticed the disparities—the gleaming storefronts juxtaposed against neglected corners. The presence of the 6th Street Gang highlighted the district's struggles with crime and social unrest.

Pacifica

Pacifica stood as a monument to unfulfilled promises. Originally envisioned as a tourist haven, it had become a haven for gangs like the Voodoo Boys. The unfinished structures and abandoned projects painted a picture of neglect.

Santo Domingo

The industrial backbone of Night City, Santo Domingo was a maze of factories and power plants. The air was thick with the scent of machinery. Toji noted the presence of the Maelstrom gang.

The Badlands

Beyond the city's confines lay the Badlanda desolate expanse inhabited by Nomads. The harsh terrain and isolation were a stark contrast to the city's neon lights.

As Toji travel to these districts, he noticed the cybernetic enhancements, commonly known as "chrome." In this world, augmentations were not merely tools; they were symbols of status, power, and identity.

In the affluent areas, individuals sported sleek, high-end implants that enhanced their physical and cognitive abilities, reflecting their wealth and access to advanced technology. Conversely, in the lower-income districts, the chrome was often utilitarian, serving as necessary replacements for lost limbs or organs, highlighting the stark disparities in society.

As Toji made his way through the winding alleyways of Heywood, the sounds of distant laughter and clinking glass mixed with the sound of cybernetic limbs and neon lights. The district was a world of contradictions. Expensive cars whizzed by, their tires screeching against the cracked pavement, while homeless figures huddled in the shadows, their bodies hunched in ragged clothing. Graffiti sprayed across the walls.

He walked through a narrow passage, the stench of garbage mingling with the faint smell of burning oil. A group of gang members stood nearby, their cybernetic limbs gleaming under the streetlights. Toji didn't flinch. He had always thrived in places like this places where the weak were prey, and only the strong survived.

"Hey, you lost, man?" one of the gang members sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Toji glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "Lost? Nah, I'm just looking for a place to sleep."

The gang member smirked, his eyes narrowing. "You want a place to crash in this dump? You better have something to offer-

bang! Crunch! Drip..

The sound of the crushed head exploding in the alley

Woosh

You fucke- , before the other gang members say another words all their heads is removed from their shoulders.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Drip.. drip..

toji look at his bloodied hand dripping with blood

Tch somethings never change i guess even in this new world.., he thought indifferently

the sounds of distant gunfire, the scream and car alarms in the air.

I guess this is all normal in this city huh?

I'm stuck here forever?... Is this another part of that granny cursed technique? Or some being of higher power transported me here, that what my instincts has been telling me for awhile sigh, toji sigh at his thoughts

Woosh

Toji disappeared into the night, the city's neon lights reflecting his silhouette as he walked deeper into the slums.