A place called "Misty's Esoterica"—an astrology and spirit channeling parlor.
The room was dim and cluttered.
"Maine, this deal's probably off. The big sister specifically warned me to lay low for a while."
Jackie Welles thus turned down the muscular, dark-skinned man with blond hair in front of him.
"Big guy, are you screwing with us?!"
The green-haired twin-tailed loli slammed the table, bursting into an exaggerated, manic expression as she shouted at Jackie.
"You called us all the way here just to tell us to scram?! Just because you bought us a few drinks, don't think you can order us around like some jerk of a fixer!"
"Rebecca, calm down. Don't be so hot-tempered and moody."
The veteran hacker of Maine's crew, Kiwi, propped her chin and casually tugged Rebecca's collar, pulling the manic girl back.
"Mr. Welles is a rising star at the Afterlife. Naturally, he has his connections."
"I don't need a naggy old lady lecturing me! And you too, Dorio, stop patting my head! I'm short because of you guys..."
The fiery loli angrily swatted at the muscular woman Dorio's hand pressing down on her head.
"What a nice team. How about this? For the sake of our relationship, I'll treat you all to a night of fun at the Afterlife as an apology. Next time something comes up, I promise you'll be the first to know. I swear on the name of Jackie Welles."
Jackie didn't mind Rebecca's outburst—after all, this was his bad.
He looked at the rough-skinned man across the old coffee table, who had fallen into deep thought with a stiff expression.
"In Night City, if you want to live long, avoid trouble, and make big money, you need proper connections."
"Maine, I don't want to get you killed. That's why I'm backing off. And I advise you to do the same. Por favor."
As he spoke, Jackie wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but Maine's facial features seemed to twist into something menacing for a split second—only to return to normal right away.
"Hey, Jackie, my friend, this isn't how you do business."
Shaking his head, Maine pushed down his sunglasses with thick titanium fingers, revealing a pair of blue cyber-eyes glowing with orange-red data light, filled with dissatisfaction and doubt.
"This was a deal we agreed on... For your big score, and your past reputation, my crew turned down several good gigs. At the very least, I deserve a reason."
"Sigh..."
Jackie scratched the back of his head and sighed.
"A reason. Right, a reasonable request. According to the customs of us folks from Heywood, business talks start with opening up. Heart to heart... Alright then. Since it's already on the news, there's nothing to hide."
He wasn't some greenhorn who had just split from the Valentinos. After years of mercenary work, especially with intel from his good buddy V, he had infiltrated the Afterlife nightclub.
And he was doing pretty well.
Maybe not a legendary big name, but at least a rising mid-tier.
As for how he got to know Maine's team—complicated yet simple.
They were all regulars at the Afterlife. That place wasn't big, and once you were in the mercenary circle, unless you had a bad rep or stayed hidden on purpose, you'd inevitably get acquainted.
Maybe your loud boasting caught someone's attention, they bought you a drink, and you found out who it was from the bartender. You returned the favor, joked around a few times, and boom—you were on familiar terms.
Not exactly partners, but at least acquaintances.
Say hi when you see each other, and collaborate on jobs if the opportunity arises.
Jackie grabbed a six-pack of beer from the cooler on the table and tossed it over to Maine and his crew, then turned on the TV in the room.
"Watching the news is a good habit," he said.
WNS News.
"...Ms. Vela Adelheid Russell will conclude her one-year advanced training at Arasaka Tokyo Headquarters and return to Night City as Executive Director of the Security Bureau under the North American Operations Council..."
The anchor was chattering away, delivering news that was both international and local for Night City residents.
On screen, a stunning figure in an elaborate lace-adorned gown appeared.
She stepped down from a super-luxury floating vehicle—an unheard-of model emblazoned with Arasaka's clover logo—surrounded by black-clad agents forming an impenetrable guard.
Faced with reporters' questions, the woman merely turned slightly to glance around. Against the snowy Tokyo backdrop, her dazzling golden hair spilled freely behind her, radiating brilliance like flowing light.
"A high-ranking Arasaka corporate dog... Say what you will, but that's some entrance and some looks."
Jackie clicked his tongue in admiration. "No wonder my good sister V is desperate to climb up there. It's just... well, she's a bit too fierce and violent to look good on camera."
The news footage shifted again.
There were shots of her in Tokyo University uniforms, in Arasaka uniforms, side by side with Arasaka's "Old Emperor" Saburo, exchanging words with Arasaka Tokyo Security Division Director Shintaro Takayama, and seated alongside Hanako Arasaka...
Clearly, these were publicly available clips compiled by reporters to show Vela's year in Tokyo.
Jackie looked toward Maine, who appeared puzzled.
Just as realization dawned on the man, Jackie grinned.
"Yeah, it's her."
"What was her position a year ago again... Head of Arasaka's Special Assault Unit, and... eh, doesn't matter."
Jackie pointed at the elegant woman on screen.
"Maine, all you need to know is this: That woman wiped out hundreds of Maelstrom gangers, personally took out multiple Militech covert agents in armored vans—word around the Afterlife says so—and ordered the lockdown of an entire city in South Africa to hunt and kill targets. She's the same one who oversees Arasaka's field ops, armed forces, and special military actions in Night City. And now that killing machine is returning with a promotion and a raise."
Though Jackie figured Vela's post-promotion "initial three fires" wouldn't burn a good, law-abiding Night City native like himself, the fact that his good sister V had emphasized this meant there was classified company info she couldn't disclose.
Out of consideration for V, Jackie wouldn't say a word more. Best to just stay low.
"No wonder..."
Kiwi, cigarette poking out of her pink chrome face mask, gave Jackie a look.
This Afterlife merc, with his bulky build, had surprisingly gentle features.
"Maine. I agree with Mr. Welles," Kiwi said. "It's because Vela Adelheid is returning. No wonder the Arasaka city peacekeepers were so proactive—they responded to the NCPD call for backup immediately..."
"Hey, old lady, say that clearer..."
Rebecca chugged a beer aggressively.
"I've always said—watch the news more," Kiwi sighed.
It was a common problem with many cyber-merc crews. Outside of jobs, they either indulged or partied.
To them, the news was just meaningless chatter—something to play while eating or to help them fall asleep. Actually watching it? Might as well go flatline to a braindance. Gaming or upgrading chrome was more useful.
"Early this morning, in Heywood, a clash broke out between the Valentinos and the 6th Street. Arasaka peacekeepers under contract for stabilization flew in. Reportedly, dozens of bodies couldn't even be pieced back together afterward... Valentinos got off lightly, but the 6th Street suffered heavy losses."
"So you're saying we drop it? Let it go?" Maine asked.
"Yeah," Kiwi nodded.
"...."
After a moment of silence, Maine looked at Jackie, who was fiddling with a chunky gold chain on his left wrist.
"Brother Jackie, let's leave it at that. I accept your reason for backing out of this deal, but you owe me. Introduce me to a new client. To be honest, I'm short on cash lately."
"That? No problem. Let me think..."
"No," Kiwi abruptly interrupted Jackie.
She turned to Maine.
"I don't know exactly what's going on, but when someone as connected as Mr. Welles knows to lie low, why should we act like reckless fools? Arasaka might be preparing something big. To be safe, we need to steer clear."
"But Maine needs money," Dorio spoke up.
The masculine-featured, muscular woman looked conflicted. "You know Maine's condition..."
"Then he needs to behave. Dismantle those military-grade combat implants temporarily—especially the one Gloria gave him. He can always reinstall them when he has the funds."
BANG!
"Enough!" Maine shouted.
He slammed his fist down onto the coffee table, shattering it instantly. Splinters flew from the force of his blow. "I said, in Night City, I will never remove my cyberware. I will protect you all—including Lucy's dream of reaching the moon. I meant what I said... huff, huff..."
As he spoke, Maine panted heavily. His fist, pulled from the debris of wood and glass, began to tremble—he couldn't control or close it properly.
"Maine!" Dorio gasped, quickly jabbing a pneumatic injector with the Arasaka clover logo into his arm.
"Whew..."
It worked immediately. Maine's breathing steadied.
He reached for the inhaler Dorio handed him next, took two deep drags, and finally calmed down enough to look at Jackie's grave expression.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, Brother Jackie. Please keep this to yourself."
"I get it. But Maine, do you know what that episode was? Cyberpsychosis... You're at risk of losing control."
Jackie's gaze fell on the inhaler in Maine's hand.
An Arasaka-made flexible stimulant.
Top-of-the-line stuff—boosted neural conduction, suppressed implant side effects. No resistance buildup yet, and a hit product among heavily modded mercs. The only drawback? Pricey.
"What the hell was that noise just now? Jackie!"
Misty burst in, her messy, ashen-blond hair wild, one shoulder of her blue top hanging loose, a choker on her neck, smokey eye makeup in full effect. She was the shop owner—and Jackie's current girlfriend.
"Hahaha... Just a heated chat with friends. Oh, Misty, my sweet girl, don't worry. I'll take care of everything—full compensation."
"So, while I was reading tarot with Ms. Misty, what did you all talk about?"
A young woman with white hair, smoky eye shadow, and a midriff-baring outfit entered behind Misty.
"What's the job?" Lucy asked her mentor—Kiwi.
"No job. We're suspending all activity and laying low. Everything else, as long as there's money, can be dealt with."
Kiwi stood. "Lucy, we're leaving."
As she passed Maine, she added, "You know your condition. Don't wait until tragedy strikes to regret it. For now, take off that damned combat implant on your back. It'll be better for everyone."
"...." Maine remained silent, face twisted in inner conflict. His lips trembled slightly as he stared at the projectile system installed in his thick arms.
He clenched his fist.
After a long pause, he sighed.
Maine looked at Jackie.
"Thanks, Brother Jackie. I'll consider laying low. If you hear of any new gigs, let me know..."
His voice was listless—like a deflated doll.
"Come on, Dorio. Let's go find Faraday."
Faraday?
Jackie, who was comforting his girlfriend, immediately grew alert.
That fixer Faraday, according to word from his Afterlife connections, worked for Militech—Arasaka's rival. Jackie himself was connected to Arasaka, thanks to his big sister V.
Anyone with higher-tier network access could piece it together with a quick check.
If Faraday really worked for Militech... then it depended on whether V needed anything.
"Brother Maine, if you really need money, I have a suggestion—not entirely reliable, but worth hearing. Want to listen?"
...
Meanwhile, in Japan—Yokosuka Port.
Arasaka Navy's Second Fleet.
Catamaran-class supercarrier Kujira.
Vela stood at the edge of the towering command tower's balcony, gazing out.
Whoosh... whoosh...
Her long pale-golden hair fluttered wildly in the sea breeze.
"New ship blueprint... the Adelheid-class..."
Lowering the thick paper document in her hand, a playful smile tugged at Vela's lips.
"Interesting..."
Even she felt the weight of this heavy investment from the old man. She wondered if Yorinobu would lose his mind from the pressure.
Saburo had offered a stage reward.
Want your own Night City fleet with a supercarrier?
Then work harder to take down Militech!
For that, Vela had to pry apart and secure independence for the former Free States of the West Coast—South and North California, Oregon, and Washington.
Beep beep.
An internal comm alert. Vela glanced at the virtual grid in her cyber-eye display.
It was her adjutant in Night City—Jimmy.
[Jimmy: Director, Phase 1 of the operation against the 6th Street is complete. Using the pretext of inter-gang violence disturbing public order, even if Militech suspects, they can't challenge us diplomatically or in the media.]
Vela nodded solemnly.
"Proceed to Phase 2."
"Activate the operatives we planted in Dogtown years ago. Stir up a turf war between Barghest and the 6th Street."
Former Militech and New America rebels, now pawns propped up by Militech, with adjacent territory and endless friction points—Vela's task now was to intensify those conflicts.
Fan the flames.