"You did this on purpose, didn't you..."
Roqi forced a "happy" smile, struggling to stay calm as he looked at the innocent-faced Master.
"Oh! You're here!"
Master cheerfully pretended not to hear him, greeting the newcomer in a relaxed tone while lazily waving his hand.
"Let me introduce you — these are your two new recruits. Take good care of them, alright~"
And just like that, he turned on his heel and vanished at lightning speed.
Leaving three people standing there.
The air instantly turned as cold as a seafood freezer.
Facing the figure that sometimes haunted his nightmares, Roqi forced a polite, painfully awkward laugh:
"Hi there, haha… ha… ha…"
The atmosphere was so stiff it could snap.
Sooji: …
Roqi: …
Newcomer: …
Combat gear with dark intricate patterns, spotless polished military boots, chestnut short wavy hair swaying slightly, patches of sweat-slicked skin exposed under a sleeveless vest.
But what grabbed attention most were her arms, covered in biomechanical skin. If it weren't for the visible alloy components, you could almost mistake them for real, perfectly sculpted muscles.
But Roqi wasn't fooled.
Beneath that athletic build lurked terrifying combat prowess — enough to wield mantis blades with a deadly balance of speed and strength.
He could feel Sooji beside him instinctively tensing up.
Too many monsters filled Max-TAC. Even as unofficial members, adjusting to the atmosphere would take time.
But Roqi and Sooji weren't rabbits stuck in a tiger's cage.
Thus, an invisible tension started crackling between them.
Click-click...
Under Roqi's horrified gaze, the woman slightly raised her arm. The servos on her mantis blades whirred… but ultimately, the blades didn't deploy.
Sooji stayed composed. They'd only met briefly.
But Roqi?
He was in deep trouble.
First meeting: the rainy night outside Konpeki Plaza. Roqi, piloting a mech, punted Dexter DeShawn like a football. They fought in the rain — Roqi lost, stabbed after falling behind by a single move.
The bottle of medicine she threw him afterward still sat in Roqi's apartment.
Second encounter: a Tyger Claw den on Eren Street. Roqi and Sooji slaughtered the scum inside. He managed to land a lucky kick and escape her clutches.
Third meeting: just a few nights ago. Captured.
Yeah… definitely not strangers.
But definitely not friends.
Just as Roqi's facial muscles were about to freeze in place, the woman finally spoke:
"Melissa Rory."
Simple. Direct. No unnecessary syllables. So crisp it scared him.
How should he respond? Crap.
He stared at her blankly. His gaze drifted…
Wow, those mantis blades are huge.
Wait, no, those cyberarms are really sleek.
"Is that how you introduce yourselves to a superior officer?"
Melissa's cold gaze cut through his daydreaming.
"Sooji Mower," Sooji replied steadily, meeting her eyes.
"R-Roqi..."
Roqi stumbled out his name, dazed by her unexpectedly non-hostile demeanor — half expecting her to scream "Target acquired!" and charge at him.
Previously, she'd always been fully geared, enhanced optics, heavy armor, high-tech weapons.
Now, in a simple workout outfit, carrying her gear casually…
She almost looked normal.
It felt surreal.
Since arriving here, Roqi realized the rumors about Max-TAC were wrong — or at least, exaggerated.
They weren't just mindless monsters.
They were cops. Enforcers. Protectors of Night City.
Only after that were they madmen.
Melissa didn't seem interested in fighting today. No hostility. No killing intent.
Was she really the psycho he thought she was?
Roqi's doubts grew.
From the moment he joined Max-TAC, he knew he'd cross paths with the woman who captured him.
Under the same roof, you couldn't avoid running into each other.
But he didn't expect it to happen so soon… or so differently.
Maybe… maybe I judged her too harshly?
He stole a glance.
Melissa instantly locked eyes with him, sharp as mantis blades.
Gulp...
He swallowed hard.
Even without an aggressive stance, she radiated pressure.
Facing her was like standing before a terrifying school principal.
If Sooji was a cheetah poised to pounce, then Melissa was a venomous snake with the brute force of a T. rex.
Yet despite their strong personalities, there was no conflict between Sooji and Melissa.
Professionals. Soldiers.
Not street thugs itching for a fight.
That thought cheered Roqi up.
No fighting? Great!
I, Roqi, a peaceful soul, lover of cats, dogs, and flowers —
— even though I launched a rocket into a black market a few days ago —
believe Max-TAC should value peace!
Right. Peace.
"Train with me," Melissa said, interrupting his happy thoughts.
"Wh-what kind of training?"
Roqi's smile froze.
Melissa's stare crushed any hope.
She pointed to the massive sparring arena beside the shooting range.
Roqi's breathing grew shaky.
Of everyone he'd met…
Melissa was the last person he wanted to spar with.
Because…
She was the only one he'd nicknamed "Madwoman."
In Night City, where cyberpsychos lurked everywhere, Melissa's insanity was…
Legendary.
If he hadn't run that first time, he'd have been butchered.
As that memory surfaced, he remembered how she tossed him a bottle of meds afterward—
Like some sleazy jerk tossing tissues after a hookup.
Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!
Roqi shivered.
Sadist confirmed.
Still, Sooji is way cuter!
He glanced at Sooji, then back at Melissa.
"Move. No dawdling."
Melissa didn't even look back, casually heading toward the arena.
Other Max-TAC members instinctively gave her space, respectfully nodding yet avoiding eye contact.
At that moment, two probationary trainees were already sparring.
Melissa watched a few exchanges — then smacked the mat, yelling:
"Your punches are pathetic! Where's your strength!?"
"Your implants — did you pull them out of a dumpster!?"
"Aim for the kill! Break their necks! Crush their skulls!"
"What, your legs are decorations? Close or far, use them! Kick his balls in!"
Her voice, sharp and commanding, echoed across the hall.
Everyone flinched.
Roqi wanted to cry.
I knew it!
Not just a strict instructor—
A demon drill sergeant!
"Honestly, I'm starting to like this place," Sooji said, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Honestly, I want to leave," Roqi whimpered.
But Melissa shot him a death glare that froze him in place.
Minutes later, the two trainees finished—
Both carried off in stretchers.
Roqi gulped again.
Gulp...
Melissa turned to him.
Roqi almost collapsed.
"Da☆me☆Da☆ne~ (No good~)
Da☆me☆yo~ (No way~)
Da☆me☆na☆no☆yo~ (Can't do this~)"
Sadly, no amount of "Dame Da Ne" could save him.
Melissa's glare left him no choice.
He climbed into the ring, stiff and terrified.
Facing Melissa, he noticed—
Her skin, polished by daily brutal workouts, was flawless under the lights.
Hso…
No! Focus!
Roqi shook his head and coughed.
When Melissa began warming up her cyberarms, Roqi spotted dense battle scars across the alloy — bullet ricochets, blade marks, scorch marks.
Real combat scars.
Max-TAC didn't replace implants unless absolutely necessary.
Every scar told a story.
They weren't kidding around.
Joining Max-TAC meant living — and dying — in hell.
"So... are we boxing?"
Roqi asked weakly.
"Kickboxing? No. We don't play children's games here."
Melissa scoffed, cracking her shoulders.
Kickboxing was tame compared to the real deal.
Max-TAC didn't fight in rings.
They fought in war zones.
Real combat.
That was their only standard.
Click-Clang—
Melissa deployed her mantis blades.
Cold gleam. Sharp enough to slice the air.
She tied her hair back with a rubber band.
"Where's your katana? Draw it."
Roqi: …
He froze, staring at the edge of the ring.
Sooji stood there, smiling encouragingly, as if watching a great show.
Reality hit Roqi like a brick.
Military special forces.
Max-TAC.
Real combat.
No rules.
No mercy.
Melissa's eager face screamed:
Come at me, bro.
Where was his love-triangle deathmatch fantasy!?
Wasn't this supposed to be about two girls fighting over him!?
Instead, they were united.
United in bullying him!
My Love-Conflict Story Really Is All Sorts of Wrong!
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🤖 My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew?
📢 Love Meets Cyberpsychosis! 📢
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