Neon Dragons - A Cyberpunk Isekai LitRPG Story

As I maintained my gaze on Valeria, leveraging every ounce of strength my Ego Attribute offered to remain outwardly composed despite the shallow, panic-tinged breaths I was drawing, my mind raced.

I mentally replayed my request, scrutinising each word for potential missteps. Was this internal review a desperate attempt to distract myself from the crushing, tension-filled silence that hung in the air after my bold proposition? Undoubtedly.

But having already crossed the proverbial line, my only option now was to brace for whatever repercussions might come swirling my way. Every second felt like an eternity, each ticking moment amplifying my anxiety and the palpable tension that pressed down on me like a physical weight.

My back was already soaked with sweat by the time I had finished speaking, yet the piercing intensity of Valeria's subsequent gaze was a whole new level of intimidation, far beyond anything I could have ever anticipated.

There was nothing left for me to do but to focus on maintaining the semblance of something approaching steady breaths, to prevent myself from fainting due to the overwhelming stress and lack of oxygen.

Finally, after what seemed like an endless expanse of time where my heart raced and I half-expected to keel over any moment, Valeria responded. Her voice, usually an unyielding cascade of authority, now carried a hint of curiosity, perhaps even a touch of amusement.

“My, what a surprise it is to witness my daughter voicing her desires so assertively. Quite a significant development, wouldn’t you agree, darling?” she addressed Oliver, her words tinged with a note of sardonic mirth. Oliver, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension, nodded with enthusiasm, his perception apparently misconstruing the dynamics at play.

“Well, it wouldn’t befit me to quash the ambition of a young woman endeavouring to find her footing, now would it?” Valeria continued, her tone patronising yet oddly approving.

“I shall acquiesce to your request, daughter. Your rationale appears both reasonable and pragmatic. However, let me be abundantly clear,” her voice dropped, adopting a chillingly stern quality, “I trust it goes without saying that Oliver and I expect you to truly appreciate the gravity of this opportunity. I need not spell out just how profoundly disappointed we would be to learn that you had not, of course.”

Her words were laced with an icy, toxic undertone that hinted at the unspoken consequences, should I fail to meet whatever standards Valeria would set for my martial arts training. I couldn’t help but swallow a massive lump that had inadvertently formed in my throat, the veiled threat having landed very precisely.

“I will ensure that the regimen and instruction at the Akion Dojo are on par with those arranged for your brother,” Valeria announced, her tone carrying the weight of an executive decision.

“Your schedule will be duly updated with the necessary details regarding your attendance. I trust this demonstration of my goodwill will help us move past any previous discord that might have existed between us. Your recent behaviour, far more rational and in line with your standing, is indeed commendable and worthy of being mentioned, daughter. It is remarkable, indeed, how a simple, close encounter with ones own mortality can alter ones perspective on life.”

The way she articulated those last words sent an involuntary shiver through me. The way she had spoken of death's transformative power felt less like a casual remark and more like a subtle warning. However, still finding my footing in deciphering Valeria's complex persona, I couldn’t be entirely sure.

Her words lingered in the air, leaving their imprint of ambiguity and latent power, as her gaze met mine once again. Instinctively, I recognized this as my cue—a silent directive gleaned from my extensive k-drama indulgences in my previous life—to express my profound gratitude for her generosity.

Mustering all the corporate finesse I could, I offered my thanks to Valeria. “I am deeply grateful for this opportunity, Mother. Your willingness to accommodate my request is greatly appreciated, and I assure you, I fully comprehend the responsibility that comes with it,” I said, my voice adopting a formal, corporate-like tone that I hoped mirrored Valeria's own.

Valeria acknowledged my thanks with a nod, a subtle yet unmistakable signal that she was satisfied with my response. Without missing a beat, she swiftly redirected the conversation back to Gabriel, her tone once again underscored by a tinge of disappointment.

“Gabriel, let us revisit our earlier discussion,” she began, her words sharp and clear. “I must reiterate my deep disappointment in your recent actions. The danger you placed yourself in was not only reckless but also tarnished the reputation of our family.”

She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in before continuing with precise expectations for his upcoming training.

“At the Arkion Dojo, you will be required to undergo rigorous training sessions, four times a week without fail. This will include advanced physical conditioning, as well as intensive martial arts training. You will be expected to show marked improvement in your physical capabilities and combat skills. Any absence or lack of progress will be reported to me directly, and I trust you understand that such reports will be met with... further discussion.”

Gabriel, visibly swallowing hard, nodded in understanding, his voice steady but subdued as he affirmed his comprehension of her demands. “I understand, Mother. I will meet your expectations without fail.”

As Valeria's piercing gaze shifted toward me, a palpable sense of dread washed over me. The realisation struck hard and fast: Gabriel wasn't the only one in her bad books. Her earlier words echoed in my mind, a clear indication that I too had somehow landed in her crosshairs.

The muscles in my body instinctively tensed, bracing for what was to come. Valeria’s eyes, previously tinged with a semblance of curiosity and amusement, now bore an unmistakable shade of annoyance, and behind that, a simmering undercurrent of genuine anger.

A wave of panic surged through me, my thoughts racing. ‘Holy fuck, what did I do to tick her off like this?! I tried my best to not mess up in any way. Where did I go wrong?!’ The anxiety was almost overwhelming, my heart pounding in my chest like a frantic drumbeat.

Valeria's usually stoic face, now etched with displeasure, was a sight I never thought I’d witness, and it took every ounce of my willpower to keep from succumbing to the fear that threatened to consume me.

Valeria's next words, delivered with a glacial precision, felt like a cold shock to my system. "While I acknowledge and appreciate your efforts in the recent events involving Gabriel's unfortunate incident, as well as your astonishing recovery defying the absurd prognosis of those charlatan medic 'professionals', I must express my profound disappointment in you, Seraphine."

The impact of her words was like a physical slap to the face, jolting me. The way she used my full name, something she hadn’t done before, preferring the formal "daughter," sent chills down my spine.

"I had held onto the hope that you would recognize the grave error in your recent actions. Yet, it appears you, much like your older brother, lack the depth of consideration necessary to reflect appropriately on your actions. Allow me to enlighten you on the nature of your oversight, with the expectation that such clarification will not be necessary in the future: During your intervention to aid Gabriel, you enlisted the assistance of an individual from this very floor, correct?"

Her words caused my eyes to widen in sudden understanding. 'She's referring to the man who helped me with Gabriel's transport to Dr. Maltrick... How could I not have realised?! If he lives on this floor, he must have connections to Ether Labs, where Valeria works, too! He would undoubtedly know Gabriel and I are her children…' My mind raced, piecing together the implications of my actions and their potential impact on Valeria's corporate image.

Seeing the dawning realisation on my face, Valeria's expression softened marginally, a small concession to my apparent comprehension of the gravity of the situation. “I see now that you, albeit retrospectively, acknowledge the significant misjudgment you have made. In your oversight, you inadvertently obliged Mr. Stirling to bear a substantial obligation.

“He has since approached me to redeem this debt, a request I cannot rightfully refuse given the circumstances you have orchestrated, daughter. This places me in an unenviable predicament, as this unforeseen obligation now encroaches upon my professional focus, the very foundation of our livelihoods here.

“I presume you grasp the magnitude of the complications your shortsighted actions have wrought? One might argue that without Mr. Stirling's intervention, Gabriel's situation could have been dire, but that situation arose from his very own failings as well. Moreover, had you not encountered your near-fatal incident and subsequent coma recently, such a predicament would never have arisen in the first place. All of these occurrences circle back to a singular flaw: A lack of foresight and consideration on both of my children’s parts.”

Valeria’s words were like a searing flame, scorching across the table towards Gabriel and, primarily, me. In that moment, I was too overwhelmed to muster any semblance of a response, silently enduring the sting of Valeria’s chastisement.

Valeria’s expression reverted to its typical frosty demeanour as she continued, her previous irritation and anger seemingly assuaged by her stern admonition. “It appears, however, that you have managed to derive some valuable insights from your recent shortcomings, daughter. Your request earlier was unexpected yet commendable. It is encouraging to observe a semblance of proactivity in you, albeit in its nascent stage. Persist along this newfound trajectory following your providential recovery, and I envisage a possibility where you could become a viable prospect for roles within Ether Labs in the future.”

Her statement, though delivered in her usual detached manner, was like a soothing salve to my frayed nerves.

Internally, I couldn't help but interpret her words as an accolade of sorts, ‘That’s high praise, isn’t it? She essentially implied that I could have a place at the company she works for if I continue to demonstrate this corporate acumen, right?! Thank god that I decided to try and assuage her with this strange corporate speech and behavior!’

Valeria’s demeanour took on a more serious tone as she elaborated, “Presently, I am deeply involved in a substantial project at Ether Labs. The imposition of Mr. Stirling's request, while seemingly benign, is in actuality a considerable distraction. It is a liability I can ill afford at this juncture.” Her words carried the weight of her professional commitment, underscoring the gravity of the situation.

The emphasis she placed on the problematic nature of this debt—a debt that I had inadvertently saddled her with—was palpable. It felt as though her words were meticulously crafted to elicit a specific response from me: An offer to shoulder the burden of this debt myself.

As the realisation dawned on me, I gathered my thoughts and courageously asked for permission to speak. “Mother, if I may,” I began, adopting a tone that mirrored her corporate precision, “I fully acknowledge the gravity of the situation that my actions have precipitated. It is a fundamental principle, both in personal and corporate realms, to address one's own liabilities. Therefore, I propose to personally manage and resolve the debt incurred with Mr. Stirling, within the bounds of my capabilities. It is my duty to rectify this matter, ensuring it no longer hinders your focus on the crucial project at your work.”

As I finished, Valeria’s expression softened ever so slightly into a minuscule smile, a subtle indication of approval. It seemed my offer had struck the right chord, aligning with her expectations and, perhaps, her unspoken desire for me to take responsibility for my own actions.

Valeria paused, her expression contemplative as if weighing my offer, despite her having not-so-subtly steered the conversation in this very direction. I internally noted the oddity of her approach but remained steadfast in my role as the dutiful corpo daughter, hoping it would further solidify my seemingly, slowly improving standing in her eyes.

After a moment, Valeria gave a slight nod of approval, her corporate demeanour intact. “I must further commend your newfound grasp of responsibility, daughter. It is refreshing and aligns with the ethos of Ether Labs. Your willingness to address this matter directly is indicative of a mature and proactive approach and is very much worth pointing out.”

She then accessed her cerebral interface, and I observed with intrigue that her eyes did not shift to the familiar blue glow that I had come to associate with such interactions.

'A higher-tier implant or proprietary Ether Labs technology, perhaps?' I mused. It was another piece of the puzzle that was Valeria, adding to her enigmatic persona.

Valeria continued, her tone laced with a hint of caution, “You will relay any and all requests made by Mr. Stirling to me immediately. I wish to review them for any potential pitfalls. While your initiative is appreciated, it is paramount that we mitigate any risks. Mr. Stirling, while an esteemed resident of this floor, warrants a degree of scrutiny above the usual norm.”

Her words left no room for misinterpretation—Valeria did not trust Mr. Stirling. I doubted that she truly trusted anyone aside from Oliver, but it was especially apparent in this instance. It was clear that she wanted to maintain a degree of control over the situation, and my role was to be the intermediary, navigating this delicate debt repayment while keeping her informed.

It was a fine line to walk, but one I was prepared to tread, understanding the potential benefits of staying in Valeria’s good graces.

Acknowledging Valeria's directive, I nodded with a respectful depth that mirrored her own characteristic gesture, careful to avoid any hint of mockery.

"Understood, mother. I will promptly convey any of Mr. Stirling's requests to you," I stated, ensuring my tone matched the seriousness of the situation.

Internally, I couldn't help but feel the toll of the evening. Interactions with Valeria were not just mentally draining but physically taxing as well. The continuous tension of maintaining a poised and respectful demeanour for such an extended period was gruelling.

'A break from all this would be more than welcome,' I mused silently, the strain of the dinner manifesting as a subtle weariness in my posture. Eager yet apprehensive, I waited for Valeria's response, hoping my compliance had met her expectations.

“Very well. I appreciate your alignment with my perspective and directives, daughter,” Valeria stated with an air of finality. “Now, let us shift to a more pleasing subject. It has come to my attention that we have yet to properly commemorate your 15th birthday, an occasion overshadowed by your unfortunate brush with mortality and the subsequent coma. While it's undeniable that the circumstances leading to this delay were a result of your own misjudgments, it would be neglectful of us not to celebrate this milestone post-facto, especially in light of your newfound zest post-recovery.

“Therefore, Oliver and I have concurred to grant you a singular request for a birthday gift, within reason, of course. This offer stands for something you desire but are unable to secure through your current means. I trust you find this proposal a fitting resolution to this oversight, daughter?"

Caught off guard by this abrupt segue from a high-stress lecture to discussing birthday presents, I struggled momentarily to maintain my composure. Taking a brief moment, I reached for my glass to take a quick sip from the orange-coloured juice, which was decidedly not orange juice, no matter how much the package it had been poured from tried to tell me that it was.

I placed the glass carefully back on the table, my mind already churning with thoughts on how to navigate Valeria's offer. 'At the moment, I'm not entirely sure of the limits of what I actually can achieve on my own. It's best to simply accept her proposal with grace and use the time to evaluate what I might need that's beyond my current reach. And then there's the matter of the restricted credit shard from Valeria to factor into my calculations as well…’

This mental note served as a reminder to tread carefully, balancing the opportunity presented by her offer with the inherent limitations and surveillance it entailed. I resolved to approach this with the same strategic thoughtfulness that had become a necessity in dealing with Valeria, ensuring that whatever request I eventually made would align with my goals and maintain the delicate balance of our slowly warming relationship.

With a composed smile and a nod of gratitude, I accepted Valeria's offer. "Thank you, mother, father. I appreciate this kind gesture and will give careful thought to any request I might have."

Oliver, seizing the opportunity to join the conversation, leaned forward with a warm expression. "Happy belated birthday, Sera! We're all just so relieved and happy about your recovery. It's really something worth celebrating!"

Valeria's response, although maintaining her usual corporate tone, carried a tinge of genuine sentiment. "Indeed, a belated happy birthday, Seraphine. Your resilience and recent developments have been... noteworthy indeed."

Gabriel, not missing a beat, chimed in enthusiastically, "Yeah, happy birthday, Sera! It's great having you back in action." His smile was genuine and infectious.

I acknowledged their wishes with a heartfelt, "Thank you, everyone. Your words mean a lot to me." Then, gracefully steering the conversation back to Valeria, so as to not take too much attention away from the matriarch, I added, "Mother, was there anything else you wished to discuss this evening?"

Valeria's icy smile lingered as she turned her attention back to the matters at hand, the familial interlude giving way to the continuation of her carefully orchestrated dinner agenda.

“Your newfound sense of decorum is appreciated, daughter,” Valeria began, her words causing a surge of quiet triumph within me.

‘Nailed it!’ I thought, though I kept my expression neutral.

“Indeed, there is another matter that requires our attention this evening. While initially, I had planned to discuss this after dinner, your recent foray into the culinary world compels me to address it now. This pertains to the corrective measures for both you and Gabriel, as well as the specific nature of tonight's dinner.”

Gabriel and I instinctively tensed, a shared unease passing between us.

The memory of Valeria tampering with our meals for “educational and corrective measures” suddenly resurfaced, and I braced myself for the impending disclosure. A sense of foreboding washed over me, as I anticipated that whatever Valeria was about to reveal regarding our meals would be far from pleasant.

Valeria, with a calculated grace, produced the small vial again, her fingers elegantly poised around its slender form. “This,” she began, holding the vial up to the light, “contains a neurotoxin known as 'NeuroCorpse' or NC, in short. It’s a compound frequently utilised by our corporate interrogators at Ether Labs, particularly effective in ascertaining truths and ensuring compliance.”

Her explanation was chillingly detailed, underscoring her complete understanding of the toxin’s capabilities. “NeuroCorpse works by inducing intense pain throughout your entire nervous system. The true beauty of it, however, is that it’s specifically engineered to cause suffering without leaving a single physical mark, making it an invaluable tool for... corrective measures, as one might say.”

She continued, her voice taking on an almost clinical tone as she described the toxin's precise effects. “At low dosages, the pain is sharp yet bearable, akin to a severe, debilitating full-body migraine. As the dosage increases, the pain intensifies, potentially reaching levels that can incapacitate or render the subject unconscious. Higher dosages are easily capable of completely shutting down your nervous system, including even those of cybernetically-enhanced Operators that have pain-blockers installed.

“At too high a dosage, death is the only outcome. Of course, as mentioned earlier, the pain is entirely internal, leaving no evidence of its application after a short few hours of it having run its course. Even the best corporate laboratories are unable to reliably trace its application.”

Valeria then delved into more specific applications, outlining various dosages suitable for different body types and pain thresholds. “For example, a dose of just 0.3 millilitres might cause the aforementioned migraine-like discomfort for an average adult male for approximately two hours. Increase the dose to 0.6 millilitres, and you have pain so severe it borders on high-level torture, lasting up to six hours in grown men. For some particularly will-strong Operators, our interrogators have been known to use up to 1.2 millilitres with great effect.”

As she elaborated on the toxin's potency, detailing scenarios and reactions with unsettling precision, Gabriel and I exchanged horrified glances. The realisation of what our mother had been willing to do—what she had planned for us—was an unsettling, terrifying revelation.

I couldn’t help but be thoroughly thankful for my recent stint with Mr. Shori, the [Cooking] Skill having been a large part of the reason I had managed to catch the strange nature of the food’s taste before I had consumed it. Furthermore, the sheer depth at which Valeria was able to disseminate the information about the NeuroCorpse was frightening in itself.

My mind was racing, trying to fit the newfound information into my view of Valeria so far, ‘Is she a corporate interrogator…? But that wouldn’t make much sense regarding her earlier talks about a project, would it? Unless that project is interrogating a ton of people…?!’

As Valeria continued, her words sliced through the tension-laden air with an icy precision that left no room for ambiguity. “In light of the recent concerns and disappointments you have caused Oliver and me, I have decided to administer a modest dosage of 0.4 millilitres of NC in your meals today. This, I trust, will serve as an effective corrective measure for my own children.

“It is my hope that this experience will impress upon you the gravity of considering the repercussions of your actions before you act. Moreover, it should serve as a vivid reminder of your roles not merely as individuals but as integral members of this family."

Her gaze swept over us with an unwavering sternness. “Your actions invariably reflect upon Oliver and me. With the increasing complexities of Oliver’s work and the significant project currently under my purview, we simply cannot afford to continuously oversee your decisions and guide you away from misjudgment."

She paused, letting her words resonate in the tense atmosphere of the dining room. “Both of you are of an age where adherence to the standards and expectations of our family should not be an unreasonable demand. It was only a short while ago that such expectations might have seemed lofty, but no longer. Let this be the only time I need to employ such methods of correction and education. For all our sakes, I earnestly hope that today’s lesson resonates deeply and enduringly.”

The revelations of the evening left me in a state of shock, the magnitude of Valeria’s actions hitting me like a tidal wave. Her admission about the NeuroCorpse in our food was not just startling, but it was also brazenly open.

She had used it as a tool for correction, under the guise of guiding Gabriel and me towards an unspoken understanding of her expectations.

The thought itself was downright ludicrous.

'This is utterly insane…!' I thought, my mind racing with disbelief and dread.

The most alarming aspect, however, was Valeria’s reference to the neurotoxin as a present reality, not a hypothetical one. The implication was terrifyingly clear—she expected us to consume the meals, despite their blatantly toxic nature.

As if in response to my dawning realisation, Valeria’s tone, a blend of emotional pain and her usual icy composure, cut through my thoughts, “Now then, let us proceed with our dinner. I expect you to finish your meals. The effort and expense involved in their preparation should not be taken for granted. I will not tolerate any wastage, am I clear?”

Her gesture towards the tainted plates was a silent command, pushing Gabriel and I to consume every last bit of the laced meal in front of us…