The reason Leo went into "idiot mode" was because, the moment he exited the braindance, his consciousness had already returned to the Marvel world.
The moment his mind switched worlds, even the smell of the air changed.
Though the air outside still carried the faintly sweet scent of leaded gasoline, indoors it smelled way better.
The room was filled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies, mingling with the fragrance of tea and flowers.
Leo was now sitting on a chair by the window. His mom had just brought in the sun-dried blankets, carrying the warm scent of sunlight inside with them.
These warm, cozy sensations were things you simply couldn't experience in Night City. They were buried under the ever-present stench of rust. By the time people started missing them, they'd already been corroded and replaced by foul smells—gone, never to be found again.
"Leo! Come help me fold the duvet cover."
Maya had just finished folding the clothes and called Leo over to help.
Smell and hearing—two senses most closely tied to memory and emotion.
Hearing is easy to modulate, but smell is far more complex.
"Coming," Leo replied, getting up and walking over to his mom, while secretly instructing the little octopus to record these sensory inputs as part of the braindance experience.
It was odd to think about—V, the muscle-brained street kid, didn't seem like the kind of person who'd care about such quiet, mundane moments.
But Leo felt that sharing some of this side of life might be really nice.
With that thought in mind, he passed her the corner of the blanket, a smile unconsciously forming on his face.
Maya noticed the smile. She paused while reaching for the blanket corner, a bit stunned.
Leo snapped back to the moment. "What is it, Mom?"
"Nothing. I just… you were smiling. Why?"
Leo froze, unsure how to explain.
But Maya quickly smiled as if nothing had happened, took the blanket from him, folded it in a few swift moves, picked up the laundry, and said:
"If you don't want to say, that's fine. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. Cookies are done—on the table. Help yourself."
She picked up the clothes, gave Leo a meaningful glance, smiled again, and went back to her room.
Leo scratched his cheek, glanced at his mom's back, then sat at the table, poured himself a cup of tea, and prepared to enjoy a peaceful afternoon.
All the sensory data had been recorded and saved as braindance material. While relaxing, he began editing it and reviewing recent events in the Marvel world.
The biggest thing happening now was Frank's case. The relentless Punisher hadn't let him down—he had successfully rescued all his teammates.
As for the cybernetic implants on Frank… they were clearly products of an advanced implant lab. If Leo wanted to dominate the implant industry long-term, this would be a key opportunity.
[Meanwhile, in the other world:]
[V puts on the braindance headset and starts the experience.]
[V: What is this place…? Something feels off. I can't quite describe it.]
[Leo: Just watch.]
[V: …Fine.]
And so, in two different worlds—V began experiencing Leo's peaceful life, while Leo started reviewing Frank's combat log and planning his next move.
"Combat Log No. 2009-10-05. Operation codename: Alpha-2. Log start time: 9:30 AM."
Frank's deep voice echoed from the screen.
The footage showed a forest covered in red autumn leaves—clearly in the middle of nowhere.
"Mission Objective: Protect my comrade, Ghana Henderson. Retrieve Arfuhan's combat recorder from him."
"Test Objective: Field test of the Tactical Strider Mk. II prototype exoskeleton—evaluate the stability of the 3D maneuver gear, enhanced visual tracking system, and tactical reflex optimization module."
"Expected Outcome: Recover Ghana, retrieve combat data, collect equipment performance stats."
The Tactical Strider Mk. II was an upgraded version of Frank's original exoskeleton suit, built using data from centaur-class mechs and cyberpunk world field tests.
It featured enhanced leg exoskeletons made from stronger materials, and arm modules equipped with web launchers and electro-adhesive gloves for 3D maneuvering.
His boots had a reverse electro-adhesion system and built-in rollers, allowing him to glide rapidly across certain surfaces.
The mechanical legs gave him super-jump capability.
His helmet tech was more conservative—just infrared sensors and an AI-assisted targeting system.
In the video, a tactical team could be seen moving through the forest. Two helicopters hovered above the trees.
Frank turned, revealing his teammates hiding in a log cabin deep within the woods.
The courtroom had chosen to suspend the case involving their feud with the CIA.
Usually, a recess like this is meant for the plaintiff and defendant to collect, supplement, and organize evidence.
But in some more sinister conflicts, it means a direct confrontation through force.
Ghana was a burly man with a somewhat round face, making him look a bit younger. Physically, he was more robust than Frank.
However, being "robust" usually just means you're a bigger target when facing firearms.
Frank held his rifle and quickly mapped out a route of attack.
"I'll handle them. You stay hidden."
"Hide? Are you going to take them on?" Ghana sounded panicked. "Frank, that's an armed helicopter!"
"I know. And because it's an armed helicopter, we can't outrun them."
"So your plan is to kill them all? That's suicide!"
"Trust me."
Frank shook his head. The exoskeleton on his thigh bent slightly, power gathering—
Bang!
The force was so great that, to Ghana's eyes, Frank vanished from the cabin doorway in an instant!
Frank's sudden launch disrupted the enemy's advance, and chaos erupted across their communication channel.
"Target spotted—too fast!"
Frank moved at incredible speed!
That single leap gave him a burst speed of 40 meters per second, and he maintained a high-speed slide at 20 meters per second!
Using web-lines to pivot his direction, converting his sprint into momentum, and using the glide modules to stay in motion—by the time enemies spotted him darting out from cover, he had already reached the next position!
Whoosh!
Bursting from the trees, Frank felt stabbing pain in his nerves—it was as if time itself had slowed down.
Dodging between the trees, he saw enemies raise their weapons toward him, but they were always just a beat too slow. At his speed, they had no time to take cover or react.
But his gun wasn't slow.
Clearing the trees, he aimed his rifle at the enemy and pulled the trigger.
Bang bang bang bang!
Gunfire roared. Blood sprayed everywhere.
"Take cover!"
"We can't! He's too fast!"
It was thirty-six versus one, but Frank zipped through the forest at 50 to 130 km/h, his accuracy never wavering.
Bullets tore through enemies, spraying blood with each hit. Meanwhile, their return fire couldn't hit Frank at all—only striking trees, dead leaves, splintering bark and scattering foliage.
Following his planned route, Frank suddenly reduced his firing and accelerated.
His new target—the helicopter!
"Cover him! Quick!"
The people in the helicopter were instantly on edge. The gunner felt absurdly anxious—
He was manning a machine gun… yet he was nervous about a lone foot soldier?!
The gun barrel spun up, unleashing a storm of bullets!
But it was nearly impossible to aim accurately at such a fast-moving target.
At that moment, Frank slung his rifle to his chest, shot out two web-lines toward a tree, and leapt!
His body soared upward, the webs stretching taut under the immense force, flinging Frank into an arc. At the peak, he landed sideways on another tree trunk!
The webs snapped tight, the exoskeleton on his arms groaned under the strain, his legs compressed and hissed with hot steam—
BOOM!
The explosive kick was so powerful, it snapped the tree in half, launching Frank like an arrow from a bow straight at the helicopter!
The gunner's heart pounded as he stared at Frank's helmet, the dark visor staring back—he yanked the gun upward and shouted—but again, he was just a beat too slow!
The pilot tried to pull the controls and lift the craft, but—it was too late!
WHAM!
A dull thud echoed as Frank's exoskeletal shoulder slammed into the gunner's chest. Frank could hear the bones shattering.
The pilot and co-pilot reached for their sidearms, turning in fear—the enemy was now inside the helicopter!
But before they could finish turning, another crack! rang out. Through the cockpit glass, they saw—
Frank had ripped the rotary gun from its mount. The red-hot barrel was now aimed directly at them.
On the ground, soldiers stood in stunned silence as Frank soared into the air, tossed the gunner out, and then—
An orange-yellow metal storm erupted from the cockpit!
The helicopter crashed!
BOOM!