
Cyberpunk runs on a handful of mechanics, repeated session after session. A ten-sided die, a stat, a skill, a number to beat: everything else is a variation on that same move, from picking a lock to a firefight in a back alley.
Here are those rules gathered in one place, in the order they actually come up at the table. The d10 and the difficulty value, the ten stats, the rolls you will make constantly, how a combat round plays out, armor, wounds and Humanity.
Every action with an uncertain outcome is settled the same way: a ten-sided die, a stat and a skill added to the result, and a number to beat. That number is the difficulty value. Count 13 for an everyday action, 15 when the situation pushes back, 17 for professional work, 21 when it takes a hero. Matching the number is enough, beating it by miles changes nothing.
The total is always built the same way: the relevant stat, plus the level of the skill you are using, plus the die. Two faces stand apart. A 10 on the die opens a reroll that adds to the total, a 1 forces a reroll that is subtracted from it. One total, one number to beat, nothing else to remember: the whole system follows from there.

It carries deduction, education, languages and noticing what is off. The netrunner and the investigator lean on it directly.
The most sought after of the ten: it sets initiative and handles weapons, at range as much as up close. No mercenary neglects it.
Everything the body does without a weapon runs through it, from scaling a facade to crossing a watched warehouse without a sound.
It turns a pile of parts into an advantage: unjamming a weapon, opening an electronic lock, fitting an implant on a back room table.
Lying, negotiating, intimidating, not cracking under pressure. It serves in the interrogation room as much as in the middle of a firefight.
It measures what you take mentally: pain, fear, drugs, and concentration when everything falls apart around you.
It gives you a pool of points to add to your rolls whenever you decide. The pool empties fast and refills at each new session.
It sets how far you travel with one move action. In a fight, it decides who reaches cover before the other does.
It sets your hit points, the damage you deal bare handed and the save you roll when you go down.
It carries reading people and sets your Humanity, worth ten times its value. Every implant fitted eats away a little more of it.
Stat, skill and die against the value the game master calls. This is the move you will repeat all session long.
When a person resists you, both sides roll and the highest total wins. On a tie, the one defending keeps the advantage.
A 10 on the die opens a reroll that adds to the total. A hopeless roll becomes playable again, and a success can turn into a feat.
A 1 forces a reroll that is subtracted from the total. This is the moment the situation slips away and the job goes sideways.
A ten-sided die added to reflexes, rolled once. The order it gives holds until the fight ends, without being rolled again each round.
You add as many points as you like to a roll, before the die leaves your hand. Once the pool is empty, you wait for the next session.

Combat is cut into rounds of a few seconds. Everyone rolls initiative once, then on their turn takes one action and one move, or two moves if they would rather run. Shooting, striking, reloading, taking careful aim: all of it spends the action for the round, which forces a choice rather than letting you do everything.
An attack resolves like everything else: reflexes, weapon skill and die against a number set by range, or against the target's evasion up close. Damage is rolled in six-sided dice depending on the weapon, the target's armor subtracts its stopping power, and only what is left eats into hit points. Armor wears down by a point when a shot gets through, and a bullet to the head doubles what does.
Your hit points are worked out from body and will. Past the halfway mark you are seriously wounded, and your reflexes, your agility and your movement all suffer for it. At zero you are mortally wounded: every round opens with a death save under your body stat, made harder by each further wound.
A medtech, a first aid kit and time bring the lost points back, never as fast as you would like. Alongside that, every implant fitted costs Humanity points. Too much metal and the character tips into cyberpsychosis: they leave their player's hands and become a problem for the whole table.
Faced with any situation, find the stat and the skill involved, then roll the die. Everything else is scenery.
The two extreme faces do not cancel out, they open a reroll one way or the other. Look at the die before you add anything up.
You get hit, then armor subtracts its stopping power from the damage. It wears down with every shot taken, and nobody remembers to repair it.
Shoot or reload, rarely both. That is what makes cover and terrain matter as much as the calibre of your weapon.
Call the points you spend before the roll, never after seeing the die. It is the rule most often forgotten in a first session.
Write the loss down when the implant goes in, not three sessions later. That counter is what decides the character's fate.
Tracking hit points, armor wear, the initiative order and everyone's Luck points on the corner of a table ends up taking more attention than the scene itself. The game master spends the evening recalculating instead of describing, and the players wait.
Tomeus brings the sheets, the dice roller, the backdrop and the music into one window. You create the game, send the link, and your players turn up with their character in front of them, with nothing to install and nothing written on a sheet of paper that gets lost.
Free starter kit, dice, character creation and a first session: the guide to getting started with Cyberpunk RED, around a table or online.
The Time of the Red, the corporations, the gangs of Night City, its districts and the Net after the crash: the lore of Cyberpunk explained, and how to use it at your table.
The ten roles of Cyberpunk explained: Solo, Netrunner, Fixer, Tech, Medtech and the rest, their unique ability, and how to choose yours as a beginner.
The implants of Cyberpunk explained: the main families, the Sandevistan and the claws, the cost in Humanity, ripperdocs and cyberpsychosis.
How a session unfolds, what the game master does, dice, character sheets and how to play a tabletop RPG online. A complete guide for beginners.
Setting, central stake, factions, NPCs and per-session prep: the method to build a tabletop RPG campaign without writing everything in advance.
Dungeons & Dragons, Call of Cthulhu, Alien, Monster of the Week: six easy tabletop RPGs for a first session, and how to pick the right one.
Concept, class, ability scores, skills, backstory and bonds: the full method to create a tabletop RPG character who will carry a whole campaign.
R. Talsorian Games offers a starter kit as a free download: it holds the system, ready-made characters and enough material for several sessions. The core book is still needed for free-form character creation, the gear catalogue and the full Net rules.
Damage is rolled in six-sided dice depending on the weapon. The target's armor subtracts its stopping power from the total, and only what is left eats into hit points. A shot to the head doubles what gets through, which makes a helmet far more useful than it looks.
The core move is the same: a ten-sided die, a stat, a skill. Cyberpunk RED trims the skill list, reworks netrunning to bring it back to the pace of the table, and moves the story past the corporate war. A RED session runs perfectly well without ever having read 2020.