In the Night City of 2077, neon is its wound that never heals, flowing with the pus and blood of data and desire. Here, "sheng" is not a myth, it is a commodity with a clearly marked price. The billboards of top companies towered into the haze, looping images of "new humans" transformed by perfect prosthetics. They have extraordinary strength, immortal appearance, and their minds are directly connected to the cloud - that is the promised "prosthetic ascension", a shortcut to "perfection" paved with metal, silicon and credit points. At the heart of the city is a vast conglomerate of corporations that control everything from air purification to consciousness backup, and define what it means to be powerful, what it means to be successful, and what it means to be human.
Here, the body is the fragile original sin, and transformation is the only redemption and atonement.
