i have just recalled an old classical cyberpunk short story featuring an amputee cyborg killer

so, i guess you should stop with bringing up all this newish stuff like some "avatar" etc when it's a common "trope" nowadays. note, he even jumped much like camille did

it's from "twenty evocations" by bruce sterling written in 1984, it's 20 brief recollections from the more than 200 years long life of the main hero, here are the related quotes:

“Look,” the assassin said, his slack face etched with weariness, “don’t bother me with any ideologies.... Just transfer the funds and tell me who it is you want dead.” “It’s a job in the Ring Council,” Nikolai said. He was strung out on a regimen of emotional drugs he had been taking to combat grief, and he had to fight down recurrent waves of weirdly tainted cheerfulness. “Lieutenant-Doctor Martin Leng of the Ring Security Council. He’s one of my own gene-line. My defection made his own loyalty look bad. He killed my wife.” “Shapers make good targets,” the assassin said. His legless, armless body floated in a transparent nutrient tank, where tinted plasmas soothed the purplish ends of socketed nerve clumps. A body-servo waded into the tank and began to attach the assassin’s arms. ... “You’re talking like an ideologue,” the assassin said. LED displays blinked softly on his prosthetic forearms. “My allegiance is to Kyotid Zaibatsu. They own this whole suburb. They even own my arms and legs.” “I own Kyotid Zaibatsu,” Nikolai said. “Oh,” the assassin said. “Well, that puts a different face on matters.” ... Suddenly Nikolai’s former Chief of Security broke from the crowd and began a run for cover. In free-fall, he brachiated from handhold to handhold like an armored gibbon. Suddenly one of his prosthetics gave way and the drones pounced on him, almost at Nikolai’s door. Plastic snapped as electromagnetic pincers paralyzed his limbs. “Kangaroos courts,” he gasped. The deeply creased lines in his ancient face shone with rivulets of sweat. “They’ll strip me! Help me, Leng!” Sadly, Nikolai shook his head. The old man shrieked: “You got me into this! You were the ideologue! I’m only a poor assassin!” Nikolai said nothing. The machines seized and repossessed the old man’s arms and legs.