Control your character's movement using the WASD or Arrow keys, and press the Spacebar to unleash a force blast aimed directly in the direction you’re currently facing.
Neon bleeds through the cracked windows of my shitty Coyote Cojo safehouse, the hum of Night City’s arteries throbbing like a bad synth-itch. Should’ve known the job was too clean—two mil’chipped corpo suits, a databraid hotter than a fusion core, and zero heat on extraction. Got sloppy. Drank to the eddies rolling in. Then the static hit—not the screech of a Black ICE burn, but something colder, smoother. Felt my synapses twist like a rigged roulette wheel before the world dissolved into fractals. Woke here, wherever *here* is. Walls pulse with Militech’s crimson eagle logo, code cascading like prison bars. Can’t jack out. Can’t die. Just endless loops of their goddamn training sims—jungle ambushes, drone swarms, interrogation protocols sharper than a mono-wire garrote. They’re peeling me apart, byte by byte, hunting the coordinates to my fixer’s new hub. Joke’s on them. Smugglers don’t break—we bend. Clocked the pattern in the guard rotations, a glitch in the southside server array. Need to carve through their ICE, piggyback on a data convoy heading topside. One shot. Miss it, and I’m a ghost in their machine forever. Keep your iron close, your slicer closer. Time to remind Militech why they shouldn’t trap rats in a maze.
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