After parting ways with the Tanaka father and son—and the still-green, brash David—Vela followed the familiar path through the Military-Government Administration and Law Department to visit her aging but sharp mentor.
A short, academic-type old man.
After some brief pleasantries, she casually brought up the idea of inviting him to dinner at the Konpeki Plaza Hotel or a leisurely fishing trip at the North Oak artificial lake. Smoothly and amiably, she obtained the professor's carefully prepared exam notes and annotations.
There wasn't much else to say. Respect for one's teachers still had to be shown properly.
If there was ever a moment to go full "A true man lives between heaven and earth—how could he remain meek beneath others forever," this wasn't it. And certainly not toward him.
The professor, Yafuji by surname, hailed from Sendai and was one of the rare Arasaka Academy instructors in Night City qualified to provide in-person teaching. He taught one of the least-enrolled majors: law.
In this society, the more inconvenient, time-consuming, and expensive a method was, the more it was favored by the rich.
Bidding farewell to her mentor, Vela slowly strolled back to the landing pad.
The Tanakas, David, and the crowd of students from earlier had all dispersed.
The seeds were planted.
And the fruit they would bear—it had to be hers.
Vela, ever the multitasker who sought to make the most of every opportunity, had no intention of adding extra effort to this so-called "chance encounter." She'd reinforced her ties with the Tanaka family and obtained the annotations she needed anyway…
Looking up at the sky, she snapped her fingers. "Destination: home."
Car AI: [Confirmed. Plotting course to Westbrook...]
Glug...
Boarding and taking her seat, Vela opened the nearby chilled minibar, grabbed a crystal bottle, and poured herself a generous glass of champagne-style apple wine, downing the pale golden liquid in one gulp.
After pouring a second glass, she lifted the bottle in an offering gesture toward her two bodyguards—Bryan and Laurie, her Black and White Shades.
"From the looks in your eyes, you've both got something on your minds... What, interested in those two boys too?"
"Uh... Commander Russel, you seemed to have taken a liking to the one called David," replied Laurie, the white bodyguard, hesitantly but straightforwardly.
"Perhaps."
Vela didn't deny it.
These two were full-time corporate bodyguards assigned to protect senior executives.
They were handpicked by Vela after earning her right to have personal protection.
Those not picked? Some were already dead. Others had been eliminated for lacking potential.
Their combat cyberware was installed to company specs—but Vela had spent her own money to outfit them even further. They had both taken bullets for her on missions, handled threat assessments, and uncovered hidden dangers. Loyal confidants.
At least while she remained on the upward climb, betrayal was out of the question.
With Arasaka's strong culture of personal dependency, subordinates often became seen as extensions of their superiors. Over time, others would label them as "Vela's people."
Just like Vela was seen as belonging to her Uncle Thomas—in the eyes of outsiders, she was part of James Thomas' camp, the First Deputy Director of Night City's Arasaka Security Division.
If James Thomas were ever dismissed (not by retirement or accident), Vela would absolutely feel the fallout.
Bryan and Laurie exchanged glances. Knowing their roles well, they asked no further questions and didn't gossip in private.
To corporate hounds with a keen sense for reading the room, it was clear: Vela had stopped, recognized David, and spoken with him.
Their boss had noticed the lucky kid. Given his performance and background, a civilian prodigy—so long as he didn't slip up—he had a real shot at joining the company.
"...."
Vela didn't dwell further on the subject. She moved on naturally: "Have Jimmy prepare the press conference. My temporary departure can be made public now."
"Yes, ma'am!" ×2
Downing her drink in one go again, letting the melting sensation flow down her throat, Vela looked out the car window.
Tonight, she would retrieve the Progenitor Virus sample and the "Sonnentreppe" flower, which lost its original properties after being brought back to the Americas.
As for the Sonnentreppe flower that retained its primal characteristics, still growing in the ruins beneath the Ndipaya tribe in West Africa… There would be a chance. Her other self—wasn't she about to take over and reorganize Umbrella?
The African Research Center in Ndipaya, West Africa—absolutely not to be missed.
...
Night fell on the blurred boundary of light and darkness—Night City.
Tap tap…
With white gauze bandaged over his face, a small bag of injury meds and supplements in hand, David Martinez walked with a spring in his step, humming a tune as he boarded the maglev tram. He couldn't wait to get home and tell his mom about the conversation and encouragement he received from an Arasaka big shot.
He looked down at the bag in his hand.
Ha, this was his first—no, second—time taking something from Arasaka Academy for free. The first time was the scholarship earlier that morning. This was the second.
Thinking about it, David couldn't help but bounce on his heels.
He'd only ever seen these supplements on billboards, TV, or online shops. The prices were so high they made it hard to breathe. He could never afford them.
"I could probably sell them on a secondhand site to make some money… or better yet, let Mom take them so she can recover a bit..." David thought.
He didn't plan to use them himself.
If getting beat up came with these perks, he might even be willing to take a few more punches… No! David, that blonde jerk insulted your mom. You need some pride!
Smack smack—he slapped his cheeks, using the mild pain to clear his head. He looked up and saw there was still some distance left to go. Just as he was about to pull out his earphones—"Huh?"
David squinted. On the tram window—hiss—he thought he saw a flash of glowing white light.
He looked left, then right. Nothing.
The tram was as filthy as ever. In one corner, someone was… engaging in rhythmic activity…
Well, better think about how to explain the bruises and scrapes on his face to Mom.
...
"Arasaka."
In a corner at the other end of the tram connector, a white-haired woman wearing eyeshadow, a white off-shoulder cropped jacket, and a black waist-cutting tight outfit stared down at the comms chip in her hand.
"Tch. Just another wannabe corporate mutt."
She spat with disdain.
That punk kid in a red-and-black Arasaka Academy uniform with a mohawk, strutting around like he owned the place...
She glanced over just as he got off at Santo Domingo Station. Looked like he was about to make a call—then panicked as he realized his comms chip was missing, frantically searching behind his ear slot.
"Arrogant little Arasaka dog. Lesson one."
Whoosh—
The tram moved on, leaving the boy behind, clutching his head and groaning in dismay.
"Aghhh! Damn it, how could I be so unlucky?! My comms chip got stolen!!"
The white-haired woman continued strolling through the tram, still hunting for her next Arasaka dog target.
Until—ding-ling-ling.
Beep.
A flicker of orange-red data light flashed in her lavender pupils.
"Hey, it's Lucy."
[Lucy, are you doing that low-skill tram job again? Still only targeting Arasaka? Be careful—if you run into a tough one and get flagged by Arasaka's Counter-Intelligence Division, it won't end well.]
"Even among megacorps, Arasaka's internal security is no joke. Real elites with power and status would never ride public transit."
The punk girl named Lucy stopped her movement. "Kiwi, what is it?" She didn't respond to the warning—the attitude was clear. I heard you. I'll be careful. But I'm not changing.
[Hmph. As long as you know your limits. You did well with that last middleman gig. Maine's looking for you—party.]
"Huh? Another bonfire party? How many is that this month?"
[You'll have to get used to it, Lucy. People like us—call it freedom if you want, but in reality, we live meal to meal. If one day we get our heads blown off on a job or have our brains fried by a netrunner, dying in some alley—it wouldn't surprise anyone. Arasaka, Kang Tao, whatever. 'Live while you can, drink while there's wine'—that's the motto. Same spot. We'll be waiting for you.]
Beep.
The call disconnected.
"...."
Silent, the woman named Lucy clenched her fists. Through the tram window, it just happened to pass between two skyscrapers, revealing the silver-bright full moon in the sky.
"That's why... I'll escape this place." She seemed to be talking to the moon, muttering to herself.
...
Twenty minutes later, the tram arrived at a new stop.
Wearing black knee-high boots, Lucy stepped off the dusty, worn-down stairs of the old station, weaving through narrow alleys and broken-down neighborhoods until she reached an open-air bar set in a converted parking lot and rundown motel.
Bonfires, barbecue, beer, sex dolls, poker, rock and heavy metal, street performers, cheap holograms projecting strip shows, half-naked edge runners, foul-mouthed mercs…
A completely different, raw world compared to the City Center, Corporate Plaza, Westbrook, or the corporate and wealthy districts.
Taking in the mix of alcohol and synthetic grilled meat in the air, Lucy entered the party grounds and quickly locked eyes with her longtime crew—partners she'd worked with for over half a year.
A tanned, gold-haired musclehead in shades—Maine; the brawny blonde bruiser he was lip-locked with—Dorio; the skinny, long-limbed guy with oversized cyberarms—Pilar; the twin-tailed loli with red tattoos all over—Rebecca.
And then—
Speaking with the team's driver, Falco, was a tall woman dressed in a red robe patterned with DNA symbols, her face hidden behind a red iron mask with a cigarette sticking out the breathing vent. Spotting Lucy, she waved her over.
"Yo, Lucy."
"Kiwi."
Kiwi casually tossed a beer from the table. Her tone was cool. "Still don't get why you like doing that kind of stuff."
No response. Lucy caught the beer, pssh! popped the cap, sat down next to Kiwi, and chugged a long gulp. She then smacked away a wandering long-arm grope without a second thought.
"Whoa! Big bro got shot down again!" came Rebecca's teasing laugh.
"So, Maine—you got another job from the middleman?" Lucy asked, looking toward the crew leader.
"Nah. Turned it down."
Wiping the blood from his nose—earned courtesy of Dorio after being too handsy—Maine shook his head. He grabbed a beer like it was a vitamin shot, chugged it, and let out a loud belch before lowering his shades a bit.
"Corp job. Big money. But you need to stay alive to spend it. They wanted us to dig into intel on one of the big shots in Arasaka's Night City Security Division—some top-ranking figure. Name's Vela Russell. Military lead. Said they'd pay per piece of intel—convert it into value. Fucking joke. What, they think we're idiots?"
"Classic corporate schemes—if not Militech, it's some other megacorp behind it. Cast a wide net and hope some desperate fools bite."
Kiwi blew out a smoke ring and continued, "The better the offer sounds, the more likely it's a trap. Could be a total wipe. We're better off passing."
Lucy didn't even sip her beer. When she heard the name Arasaka, the light visibly drained from her eyes.
Kiwi caught the look.
"So, Maine—what did you take on? You even went out of your way to call Lucy…"
"Heh, so I picked something simpler—but it's a netrunner job. Needs you and Lucy. The middleman wants us to look into a murder case the NCPD ignored. Looks like some gang-related mess, but there's no leads. Our job is to find evidence, hand it over, and take out the perp."
Maine leaned forward, cracking his knuckles. "Yeah, it's messy—but the euro's solid."
"And you?" Kiwi asked Lucy.
"There's money—why not?" Lucy shrugged. When it came to Arasaka… her feelings were complicated. She wanted revenge, but could only bring herself to petty stuff—stealing chips on trams. Going after Arasaka top brass? She wouldn't admit it, but the truth was—she was scared.
"Wahoo! Then tonight—party all night!"
Maine waved to the bar owner to bring more beer and the best synthetic meat skewers available.
An all-nighter.
By morning, Lucy rubbed her aching temples and got up from a broken couch, only to find Maine and Pilar still going hard with the drinks.
Cyberware changed everything. Bingeing, sleepless nights, hangovers—no problem. Tired? Just shoot up a stim, back to full health.
She turned her head and saw Kiwi remotely switch on the TV mounted to the bar's wall.
"Welcome to News 54. Now for the latest local news."
"Vela Adelheid Russell, Head of the Special Assault Unit and Chief of Security Bureau at Arasaka Night City, will temporarily leave her post to pursue advanced studies at Arasaka's Tokyo headquarters. Let's thank Ms. Russell for her years of dedication to public safety in Night City."
Lucy scoffed at the anchor's formulaic tone.
"You actually watch this crap? Just corporate lies and empty talk."
"Doesn't hurt to see what they're saying."
The camera switched scenes.
A tall dome with dark tones, the Arasaka trifoil logo embedded in massive black marble.
At the podium, an elegant woman with pale golden hair was speaking.
"...My time in Night City has been an honor... I will step down temporarily as of 2075/2/17. This is not a farewell. I believe our cooperation with the NCPD will continue, ensuring the safety of our citizens..."
Lucy's eyes widened. She wasn't listening to the corporate babble—but that woman… she'd seen her before.
Kiwi gave her a knowing glance.
"Interesting… Looks like you weren't telling the whole truth. Your connection to Arasaka, huh…"
...
2075/2/18
Arasaka Private Terminal, Tokyo Haneda International Airport.
Clack clack—
Carrying a suitcase, Vela stood on the airstair, eyes narrowed as she gazed at the skyline of Tokyo—denser, taller, broader than Night City. A cold gust swept through, rustling her hair.
Below her, a standard Rayfield Excalibur hovercar idled. In a black suit and sunglasses, a stoic, sharp-featured Arasaka agent of Japanese descent was already waiting.
Her hovercar only supported short-range flights. It couldn't cross the Pacific. If only she had the New United States President's orbital-class luxury hovercraft, she wouldn't need to transfer. But that was still out of reach—for now.
"Supervisor Russel."
Biometric and ID verified, the Tokyo HQ agent stepped forward.
Vela tightened her coat collar and descended. "Appreciate it."
"This way, please."
Boarding, the hovercar rose into motion. Vela placed her suitcase beside her and looked out at the approaching skyline. In the center of it all—standing alone, without rival—was the pitch-black tower surrounded by the city's embrace.
Arasaka Global Headquarters.
She probably wouldn't meet Saburo Arasaka. But Yorinobu Arasaka…
The wedge she would drive into the Arasaka family began with him.
After all, wasn't he the one who wanted to destroy his father's legacy?
Let me help fan the flames.
I wonder—when I "accidentally discover" the Progenitor Virus during my Tokyo University research project, a virus capable of greatly extending human lifespan, what face will you make, oh dutiful son so eager for your father's death?
Vela was brimming with energy and anticipation.