"Tonight will undoubtedly be a pleasant and wonderful evening."
Sitting on the living room couch, Goodwin held a wine glass in hand. The liquor swirled gently in the glass as his hand moved, reflecting the blue hue of his eyes.
A romantic dinner for two, a beautiful woman taking a bath in the restroom, and a rare half-day off tomorrow…
And that woman—meek, gentle, never saying no, with a mostly unaugmented body, and who'd followed him home with only token resistance…
With all those elements in place, Goodwin couldn't imagine anything that could disrupt his mood.
Never let emotions interfere—execute everything with machine-like precision. Let stress and troubles accumulate internally and release them all at once when the time is right. That was how he had always lived.
To be honest, the work pressure lately had been intense, especially with the launch of the new berserk implant.
This latest cyberware developed by the Night City branch had garnered the attention of the European headquarters. Even the company's CTO—his former mentor—was scheduled to arrive in Night City soon to inspect his work firsthand.
To present his best self to his mentor, Goodwin needed a release beforehand—like a gear long in motion finally getting oiled.
Now, his "lubricant," the sacrificial vessel that would help him unwind, was washing herself obediently in the bathroom—understanding, compliant, and saving him a lot of trouble.
"What a pity. She's only recently become my secretary—our time together has been short. Still too green."
Having finished his glass of wine, Goodwin sat idly in the living room, and his mind began to wander.
"If only we'd had more time together... At least enough to form some real memories. Right now, she's not even worth remembering by name."
He placed his glass on the coffee table, murmuring half regretfully to himself.
Just as he reached for a second pour of red wine, the sound of water from the bathroom finally stopped.
The blonde woman emerged, her curvaceous figure wrapped in a white towel. Her flawless face held a subtle flush, and her hands tightly clutched the towel to her chest.
She looked at Goodwin with a bashful expression, biting her lower lip nervously.
"All done? Relax, there's no need to be so tense. Tonight is a wonderful evening for both of us. Shyness and anxiety will only taint it. If you're nervous, have a drink to loosen up."
Goodwin smiled gently and gestured to the other glass of red wine on the table.
The blonde nodded slightly, picked up the glass, and drank it down.
Soon, a heat began to rise from within her, her limbs growing weak. Her knees buckled, and she could only lean on the couch and slowly sit down.
"How are you feeling?"
Even now, Goodwin's face showed no lust or depravity. His warm, gentle smile resembled that of a caring doctor.
"My body feels... weak. A little too relaxed…"
The woman responded softly. Deep down, she knew the wine had been drugged.
Still, she hadn't expected the director to do it this way.
But perhaps it was for the best. At least she didn't have to stay so tense or ashamed.
Her feelings were a whirlwind. Since her sister's mysterious disappearance and everything that followed, she had taken on her sister's role as his secretary.
She was truly grateful to Goodwin for offering her a job during her most desperate time.
So when he made his "special" request… indebted, reliant, and vulnerable, she accepted.
"Then let's begin our wonderful evening."
Goodwin smiled, pleasantly surprised at her compliance.
He stood and gently carried her princess-style toward a door by the staircase.
The door was built flush into the wall, its color nearly identical—most wouldn't even notice it. At first glance, it looked like a utility closet.
Smiling contentedly, Goodwin stepped inside with the blonde woman in his arms.
Inside, the room was pitch black—no windows, no light, nothing visible.
"It's so dark in here…" the woman murmured nervously.
"Don't worry. It'll only be a moment."
He walked a few more steps through the darkness and then laid her gently onto something soft—a bed, or so it felt.
Then he hit the switch, and white light instantly banished the shadows.
The whole room lit up as if it were daylight, revealing its horrifying truth.
The blonde squinted, momentarily blinded, and then looked around in confusion.
Compared to the rest of the luxurious home, this room was small—originally perhaps used for storage: cleaning bots, security drones, and the like.
But now… it had been converted into a surgical theater.
She was lying on an operating table.
All around her were precise, terrifying surgical instruments gleaming in the overhead light. On the wall, human-shaped statues stood—eerie, lifelike, disturbingly beautiful in their fleshly realism.
Each figure had a different expression—terror, joy, arousal...
No one would expect to find something like this outside a body horror museum.
And then—her heart stopped.
She saw one of those statues.
A familiar face.
Her sister's face.
Her eyes widened in horror. Her dazed expression cracked, and tears began to well up.
"Why… why is my sister here?!"
Her voice trembled with despair and confusion, on the edge of breaking down.
Despite the varied faces on those grotesque mannequins, the one that caught her eye instantly was the one she'd long been grieving for—officially declared missing by the NCPD.
Despair, helplessness, terror, disbelief—it all surged through her.
If her body still had strength, she would've screamed in anguish.
"There's no need to ask why. The truth is right in front of you. Isn't it obvious?"
Goodwin's tone was calm, even gentle, as he stood beside her with a smile, his eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure.
"You… you killed her!"
Her voice quivered with rage.
But to Goodwin, it sounded like the helpless mewling of a kitten.
"Anna, yes… She was a good secretary. Among all my dolls, she stayed by my side the longest. We shared so many fond memories. I remember how I felt when I turned her into a doll… even a tinge of sadness."
He said it wistfully, gently stroking her golden hair as if she were a beloved pet.
With his other hand, he began selecting surgical tools—like an executioner preparing for the act.
"Why… why would you do this?!"
Realizing what was coming, her voice broke into sobs, the white lights above blurring behind tears.
A romantic evening had become a nightmare. The whiplash of reality was overwhelming.
Goodwin leaned close to her face and sighed.
"Why? Well, I suppose… I know this fetish of mine is twisted. Immoral. Inhumane. But if you really want a reason, I could come up with several."
"You must've noticed—besides a few parts, most of the dolls' bodies are fully cyberized. Don't you think they're beautiful?"
"Maybe I do it to immortalize a perfect moment. Maybe I do it to study the mysteries of human augmentation. Or maybe… just maybe, dissecting humans makes me happy."
He walked over to the wall of mannequins, letting his fingers trail across the eerily lifelike flesh.
Eventually, he stopped in front of a blonde-haired one.
It still wore a bright, blissful smile.
"To be honest… I'm not even sure why I do it. I just know—no excuse could ever justify it."
He sighed.
"You… monster!" she spat weakly.
"If calling me a monster makes you feel better—then yes, I am."
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MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR
🧠💻 MY CYBERPUNK 2077 SIMULATOR 💻🧠
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