Lu Chuan died: the elevator went into free fall, and so did he.
The transmigration golden finger promised by the System mutated on the spot because of unknown data interference.
So, bearing the name of the Norse god of light, he descended into Night City, the world of Cyberpunk 2077.
Silver-white nanotech armor that can stop bullets, form blades of light, and devour metal, but somehow can’t keep a low profile.
Military technology’s intelligence network has its eye on him. An Arasaka analyst stares at the surveillance footage, lost in thought. Gangs of every stripe mistake him for a walking cyberware miracle.
Lu Chuan just wants to find somewhere to have a drink, but a silver-haired girl takes an interest in him, a fixer comes calling, and he gets dragged into the heart of the maelstrom.
“Wait, I just want to quietly blend in as an ordinary passerby!”
The armor falls silent for a moment, then a System prompt sounds:
“Ding! Host detected attempting to keep a low profile. We recommend activating the [Taunt Aura].”
“Activate?”
Lu Chuan: “...I’m begging you to shut up.”
When the nanotech blade of light shines beneath the neon, all of Night City will remember that name:
Baldur.
