California, USA.
James finished unpacking his weekly groceries, setting aside a large bag of spicy chips and a bottle of high-caffeine energy drink. He hummed a catchy J-pop tune from a recent anime hit as he bounded up the stairs to his room, his footsteps light with the anticipation of a dedicated hobbyist.
He booted up his high-end workstation. James was an interesting anomaly in his neighborhood. While his peers were often obsessed with the DNA-encoded traditional interests of sports, rap, or the "hustle," James was a proud Black Otaku.
He came from a stable, middle-class background; both his parents were respected law enforcement officers, and he followed in their footsteps as a civilian clerk for the State Police. But his real passion lay in the digital underworld of ACGN: Anime, Comics, Games, and Novels.
Specifically, James was a key member of a 'Scanlation' group.
Unlike the groups in Aoyama's previous life that translated foreign works into Japanese, James's team focused on bringing the booming wave of Federation manga to the English-speaking world. For James, it wasn't about the money (there was none), but about the sheer variety of the stories.
He was tired of American superhero comics, which had spent seventy years recycling the same four themes and three character archetypes. The Federation works, however, were wild, unpredictable, and culturally expansive. He'd recently spent months translating Shadows of Yharnam, a Victorian-inspired eldritch horror masterpiece that had forced him to actually enroll in a Japanese class just to capture the nuances of the "Beyond" setting.
Lately, he'd discovered a new obsession: Cyberpunk 2077: Edgerunners.
The title alone was a stroke of genius. He hadn't known what 'Cyberpunk' meant until the author, a man known only as 'Aoyama,' had provided a detailed, visceral manifesto on the subgenre. It was a world James found both terrifying and strangely familiar.
In a country like the US, where corporate lobbying and data-privacy violations were practically a national pastime, the neon-drenched dystopia of Night City felt less like fiction and more like a warning.
James opened his group's secure chat. The leader had sent him the raw files for the latest chapter: Chapter 21, 'The Long Road.'
He dove into the translation, his fingers flying across the keys. He loved Aoyama's style. The art was hyper-detailed, the cinematic pacing was better than most Hollywood blockbusters, and the character designs were legendary.
None more legendary than Maine.
James felt a rare, personal connection to the crew's leader. In an industry where black characters were often reduced to sidekicks or stereotypes, Maine was a revelation. He was a leader. He was a mentor. He had a rich history, a complicated relationship with Dorio, and a massive, magnetic personality. To James and the growing community of black fans in the US, Maine was the series.
But as he translated the dialogue between Maine and Dorio... the air in James's room seemed to turn cold.
He stared at the panel where Maine's hand twitched, the metal fingers sparking against the floorboards. He read the word Erosion. He saw the digital glitch flickering in Maine's optics.
"No," James whispered, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "No, no, no. Aoyama, you wouldn't... you crazy bastard..."
He looked at the panel where Maine saw David's face in place of Dorio's. The realization hit him like a physical blow. The leader wasn't just tired. He was falling. He was becoming exactly what they had spent the entire series fearing.
"He's going psycho," James muttered, a wave of genuine grief washing over him. "He's actually going to kill off the Big Brother."
He suddenly felt a deep, chilling solidarity with the fans halfway across the world. They might speak different languages and live in different time zones, but in the face of Aoyama's cruelty, they were all citizens of the same devastated world.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]