In the original Cyberpunk 2077, there were only three starting backgrounds, and each of their storylines lasted less than two hours.
After that, the protagonist would be unified into a single identity to explore and adventure in the world.
At the time, Takayuki felt this design was genuinely a pity.
The entire world had already been fully built, yet players could only experience it through one identity. That wasted a large part of the original worldbuilding.
So in this world, Takayuki simply decided to add multiple playable identities.
Each identity was given its own separately designed main story flow.
And in the future, Takayuki also planned to release expansion packs that would add even more identities.
For players, this might feel like replaying the game again—but Takayuki could guarantee that every identity would offer a different kind of enjoyment built on top of the original story.
Right now, Murakami Kazuo was playing the Cyber Doctor / Trauma Team identity.
During the opening tutorial, he encountered another important character in the game: Jack.
In the original story, Jack played a bridging role between early and later plot points, but his "grab-the-box-lunch" moment came a bit too fast—he died due to a scripted plot event at roughly the first ten percent of the game.
Most players hadn't even formed much emotional attachment to him before he died, even though he was a character that deserved proper buildup.
So, without affecting the main storyline, the early stages were expanded with more missions fighting alongside Jack, allowing players to truly bond with him—before delivering that brutal emotional blow later.
Takayuki felt that if players knew his intentions, they'd probably want to hang him up and beat him.
In Murakami Kazuo's playthrough, with the protagonist's help, Jack successfully became a member of Trauma Team. The two then began taking missions together, struggling side by side in Night City.
However, Murakami Kazuo wasn't satisfied with only following the main story.
The most interesting part of a game like this wasn't just the main plot—it was the wide variety of systems, mechanics, and details throughout the game world.
So after completing the early main missions with Jack, he decisively began freely exploring the entirety of Night City.
The city felt incredibly real, as if it truly existed, and its level of detail was almost frightening.
For example, while trying to take the elevator down from his apartment, the elevator suddenly malfunctioned and stopped.
At that moment, the emergency phone inside the elevator rang. The player could choose to wait for repairs—in which case, once the repairs were completed, they would receive a small compensation payment for psychological distress caused by the delay.
Alternatively, the player could crawl out through the emergency hatch and leave the elevator on their own, continuing with their activities.
But there was actually a third option.
If the player's identity had sufficiently high electronics skill, they could actively fix the elevator themselves.
This triggered a small puzzle minigame. Successfully solving it would restore the elevator's function, and the protagonist would gain a bit of reputation in the city.
That reputation increased the protagonist's standing in Night City.
Reputation, in turn, indirectly influenced how people in Night City treated the protagonist.
With high enough reputation, even someone whose current identity was just a street punk could gain an audience with major corporations or powerful figures, unlocking more missions, solving problems for influential people, earning even more reputation, and eventually climbing into high society.
These were details in the game's core systems.
And then there were other details that made Murakami Kazuo feel they were completely unnecessary—but if included, dramatically increased immersion.
At street food stalls, Murakami Kazuo could observe NPC pedestrians eating.
They scooped food from their takeaway boxes one spoonful at a time.
While it wasn't detailed enough for every single bit of food to disappear realistically, it was clearly visible that the food gradually vanished from the container.
In a game made by a typical company, this scene would likely just have an NPC pretending to eat empty air, with a timer set for when they "finish."
Or worse, the NPC might simply eat forever without stopping.
These kinds of shortcuts wouldn't actually affect gameplay enjoyment.
But with these details included, immersion was clearly much stronger.
Murakami Kazuo didn't even know why—he simply stood there at the stall, watching people come and go, watching them eat.
After finishing their meals, the customers would leave satisfied, place cash on the counter, and move on to their next destination.
Buzz—buzz—
Murakami Kazuo was completely immersed in the game world, having forgotten everything else.
He felt like it had been a long time since he'd experienced this level of immersion in a game.
It felt as though the world contained countless forms of enjoyment waiting to be discovered—he only needed to dig them out.
At that moment, he didn't even notice that the console's cooling fan was spinning wildly, clearly pushing the hardware to its limits.
He simply watched NPCs going about their lives, finding it interesting just to see them wander around.
The game also featured a hologram-like scanning function.
If used on someone, it would identify their identity, birthdate, hobbies, profession, and more.
Of course, some people's information appeared blurred—clearly encrypted, with access deliberately restricted.
Then suddenly, someone rushed up to him and shouted loudly:
"You bastard—how dare you spy on me?!"
The man immediately pulled out a gun and attacked.
Murakami Kazuo froze for a moment. After getting shot and wounded, he hurriedly drew his weapon and returned fire.
A random pedestrian was no match for the protagonist, and Murakami Kazuo quickly took him down.
But almost immediately, police sirens sounded nearby. Law enforcement officers appeared from all directions, ordering the protagonist to drop their weapon and surrender.
Murakami Kazuo didn't understand what was happening and chose to fight back.
Naturally, without any surprise, he was killed on the spot.
Game over.
Staring at the game-over screen, Murakami Kazuo was a little stunned.
That's it? Just dead like that?
Night City really was insane—and coldly unforgiving.
Murakami Kazuo reloaded the game, returning to the moment when he had been standing at the food stall watching others eat.
This time, he was more cautious and no longer casually checked other people's information.
He realized that, in this game world, looking into someone else's data was considered rude.
Suddenly, Murakami Kazuo felt something strange.
This was clearly just a game world.
And yet, he felt an urge to treat these NPCs with basic courtesy.
Even though he knew full well that they were nothing more than piles of code.