The Daily Life Of A Cyberpunk Magician
Chapter 248 - 175: Desert Civil Type One

Chapter 248: Chapter 175: Desert Civil Type One

The icy, pallid light from above cast Gary’s shadow onto the white bedsheet; he bowed his head, staring blankly at his own silhouette, remaining silent throughout.

He felt somewhat alone.

This loneliness wasn’t due to a lack of human relationships since the number of people visiting him in the hospital during these days had caught up with the total he had seen in the past month.

This kind of loneliness was hard to articulate.

What he lost was far more precious than friends or lovers, and there was no possibility of it ever returning.

Half of his body had disappeared, and the remaining half had suffered irreparable damage.

But even that wasn’t the crux of the matter. The most critical thing was what the Prosthetic Doctor said with regret and apology, "I’m sorry, Mr. Gary, the parts missing from your body are too numerous, and we can’t restore you to full mechanical functionality with prosthetic technology. If we were to install prosthetics on such a large scale, the odds of contracting Cyber Syndrome are much too high, posing extreme risks. Therefore, our recommendation is to fit you with a prosthetic upper limb, and provide you with a wheelchair and robot assistance for your daily life."

Back then, Gary hadn’t been as silent as now; he just smiled at the Doctor and said, "I understand."

At that moment, he hadn’t deeply grasped what the loss of mobility truly meant.

It was only when Gary accidentally learned about the type of prosthetic limb scheduled for his transplantation—Desert Civil Type One.

It was a model that had been outdated two or three years ago, with mediocre performance and many defects. Besides those with no other choice, no one would choose that model.

Ha, Desert Civil Type One.

That meant the Police Department’s upper echelons’ so-called "guarantee of a happy life for the heroic officer Gary" was nothing but a lie.

Trash.

He was now just trash.

Trash with no value to use, thus there was no need to spend excessively to settle his latter years.

Gary was aware that the entire Lonely City Police Department system was always short of funds.

Gary didn’t want to get entangled in the web of causality and interests, nor did he care if Police Chief Tang Hexun, whom he had always admired, was actually a hypocrite.

Just like he never deeply probed the potential consequences of each decision he made, he didn’t like to think.

He just needed to follow his heart and instincts.

If he wanted to be a Police officer, he would be one; if he wanted to save someone, he would save them.

Thinking tends to make one weak, and most of the time, fleeting opportunities don’t allow for it.

Now, all he knew was that he was in pain.

He looked toward the empty sleeve and trouser leg, where he should feel nothing, but from there, a constant pain radiated.

The pain was like a stone dropped into the calm waters of a lake, the ripples causing a cascade of waves that struck the lakeshore.

And then they rebounded, and collided with the returning ripples, then continued to rebound.

Until the entire lake surface was covered with dense, fractured ripples, with not a trace of calmness or harmony left, each small wave’s collision sending jolts of pain into his mind.

He felt his mind was like that lake surface, on the brink of being completely torn apart by the ripples of pain.

The Doctor said this was phantom limb pain, with no good way to treat it, only relying on medication and other conventional methods to alleviate the pain.

But Gary had declined; the pain still had its benefits.

At least when emptying his mind, his subconscious would tell him his limbs were intact.

More painful than the pain was the total absence of sensation from his limbs.

Dead silence was agony, like the hospital ward deep in the night.

"Click—" Suddenly, the silence of the hospital room was broken by the sound of a latch springing open.

Gary looked toward the door, the doorknob slowly turning, a ripple emerging in his heart.

Who could it be so late?

He glanced at the time; it was already past midnight, and the nurses definitely wouldn’t allow visitors at this hour.

So, who could it be?

Unexpectedly, a hint of anticipation arose within him.

The ward door opened, and a man with golden curly hair walked in, smiling at Gary, "Mr. Gary, hello."

"Who are you?" Gary immediately furrowed his brows, having no idea who the man before him was.

"Who I am doesn’t matter," the blond man simply replied. He walked over and sat beside Gary’s bed.

"What do you want?" Gary asked warily, knowing that a man appearing at this time in his hospital room was definitely no ordinary person.

"I’m here to help you," the blond man said slowly, "You can call me Yaxi."

"How can you help me? Is there still value in helping someone like me?" Gary scoffed; lifting the blanket with his left hand, he exposed the remnants of his body under the hospital garb and then shook the hollow sleeve and trouser leg.

"It’s certainly necessary," Yaxi smiled gently, his eyes brimming with admiration for Gary, "Your spirit is as remarkable as ever, regardless of your current physical state."

"So what?" Gary grew impatient. Yaxi’s words were circuitous and evasive, so he asked directly, "What exactly do you want to do?"

"I plan to take you away, to fit you with Prosthetics and help you stand again, to become a normal person," Yaxi continued, "Afterward, you can continue being a Police officer."

"I no longer hold any value for prosthetics, too many of them will turn me into a cyber madman," Gary shook his head, issuing an order of dismissal, "If that’s your business, then please leave."