Cyberpunk 2077 argues that you are a product line.

The skill tree system—where leveling Intelligence lets you understand Quickhacks, leveling Body lets you carry things, leveling Cool lets you intimidate—doesn't represent character growth, but rather models the sales catalog of a human being.

You don't develop these capacities through narrative or choice. You purchase them with time spent grinding identical encounters until the number goes up.

The genius of the trap is that players accept this immediately because the interface feels familiar, it's Skyrim's model, it's every RPG we've trained ourselves to love. But Cyberpunk makes the sale explicit in a way those games obscure. In Skyrim, you improve Speechcraft by talking — in Cyberpunk, you improve Intelligence by doing the same task repeatedly until the game permits you to understand dialogue you could already hear.

Nobody in Night City questions this, and no quest requires you to realize the horror of it. Cyberpunk doesn't fail to critique the commodification of humanity — it successfully naturalizes it by making you grind for the privilege of understanding the world.