"Those are the general terms."
"I appreciate your support, brother Jackie."
After signaling his girlfriend Dorio to take Rebecca out of the room, Maine sincerely expressed his thanks.
"Hermanos, may you and your crew stay safe." Jackie cheerfully thumped the sofa from across the shattered coffee table. "But don't be too quick to thank me. I'm not the one calling the shots for my good sister. She'll talk to you herself."
"What?"
Maine was momentarily stunned.
"Your sister, that company dog working for Arasaka? She's coming to see me? When?"
"Now."
Swirling the beautiful liquid inside a glass beer bottle, Jackie smirked and stood up.
"It's been a while since I hung out with my sister in person. I gotta dig out my stash... some old-school Heywood moonshine, mm-hmm, and there's this noodle spot in Kabuki, top-tier stuff. And Tom's Diner, Heywood staple, fried eggs and bacon, BBQ ribs, short ribs... all street food classics. I'll pay extra and make sure the lady uses proper meat, not that cheap synthetic garbage. I bet V's gonna love it."
Rummaging through the boxes piled behind him, Jackie's eyes glowed orange from placing food orders via holo-call. "...Wonder if she misses these flavors, living in that Arasaka snake den."
Muttering to himself, he pulled out a metal tin from the bottom of the clutter, dusted it off, and glanced back at Maine.
"Just a friendly reminder, brother Maine, don't say anything anti-corp in front of my good sister... and you know the rules of the street. Keep your and your team's mouths shut."
Maine nodded at Jackie's warning.
He had no room to be picky now.
He needed money. His team needed a lot of it.
Ever since mid-autumn of 2075, when Saburo Arasaka miraculously "regained his youth" and made a comeback in Tokyo, Arasaka had entered into a series of partnership agreements with allies like EuroBank and Biotechnica.
These deals included the release of a limited number of "rejuvenation surgeries" for the upper crust, along with new flexible stimulants and implant neutralizers aimed at down-market consumers—launched in high-spending regions like Night City.
The so-called "rejuvenation surgeries" were simplified, diluted versions of the R-618 'Rebirth' Compound.
Saburo had no intention of sharing cutting-edge tech with non-Arasaka forces, but to win allies and buy time for Arasaka, he reluctantly agreed to cooperate with tolerable partners, offering certain results from Vela's Sonnentreppe Project focused on beauty, wellness, and basic healthcare.
Such tech might be useless for edge-runners and cyber-mercs—mere frilly nonsense. They didn't need it. But to the elites? Absolutely essential.
Cyberware—the more high-end it is, the more it conforms to the human body.
That is, biological components: tech replacing traditional cyberware with bioengineered modules. Developed alongside third-gen cyberware.
According to consumer market standards, biotech and nanotech were still considered cutting-edge. But in Europe, bio-components advanced rapidly. That region was the cradle of elite bioengineering.
That's why Saburo chose to collaborate with EuroBank. The Sonnentreppe Project aligned perfectly with Europe's research priorities.
As for Biotechnica? The name said it all—its specialty and focus needed no explanation.
But for cyber-mercs like Maine, "rejuvenation surgeries" were a far-off dream. Flexible stimulants and implant neutralizers, however, were right in front of him.
Those were life-saving drugs—and the very chains bleeding him dry. To keep this maxed-out body running, he had to keep pumping in stimulants and suppressants, clawing for every extra day in the field to earn just a little more cash.
As the team leader, he had to fulfill his promises—for Dorio, for Pilar and Rebecca, for Kiwi, and for the new little sister Lucy and her dream of going to the moon...
Working for corps wasn't impossible. Just needed to swallow some pride and play the sycophant. It wouldn't kill him. But the stigma of being a corporate dog among the old-school "legends" of the merc world... that was harsh.
Just as Maine wrestled with this last bit of hesitation—
Beep beep.
An audio-only, screen-blocked call.
[Gloria: Maine.]
The female voice held a hint of urgency. It instantly reminded Maine of a seller he once dealt with—a woman who had once saved him, someone he owed.
"Gloria?"
[Gloria: It's me. I'll keep it short. You've probably heard that my son David enrolled at Arasaka Academy. Here's the latest intel—from one of his classmates whose family works in Arasaka middle management. Things in Night City... are about to get tense for a while. Be careful, Maine.]
"...Got it. Thanks, Gloria."
[Gloria: Take care.]
Beep. The call ended.
Maine: "...."
What could he say? Mixed feelings.
Was having corporate connections this useful? Gloria, just an ordinary working woman at Night City Medical Center, suddenly had access to inside scoops just because her son squeezed into Arasaka Academy? Thanks to his classmates' family banter?
Suddenly, this pure mercenary life felt...
Like the final straw tipping the scales, Maine made up his mind.
"Kiwi, you once said that reaching our level in Afterlife means being stuck in a dead zone. Neither up nor down. To go higher, we have to work with corps. If that's inevitable, better now than later. Rather than living like a scattered rogue, better to seize the chance and latch onto a high branch."
His gaze burned as he looked toward the room's entrance—toward the brains of their operation.
Inside Misty's Esoterica, Kiwi, apparently talking tarot with Misty and Lucy, glanced over at his words. Her yellow sclera and red irises focused as she exhaled a puff of smoke and slowly replied, "So you've decided to gamble your life?"
"All in!"
Bet it all—turn that bike into a motorbike.
As cyber-mercs, none of them feared death. They just didn't want to die meaninglessly—to throw themselves into battles with zero chance of survival.
"Maine hasn't come out, so I guess the deal's done."
Cyber-styled girl Lucy looked up, cigarette between her fingers, eyes lingering on the three tarot cards Misty had drawn for her.
0 The Fool, X The Wheel of Fortune, XVIII The Moon.
0: an end and a beginning, infinite possibilities.
X: capricious fate, a new start that must be accepted.
XVIII: confusion, turmoil, and anxiety...
Your fate lies in another's hands.
That was Misty's reading for Lucy.
Though Lucy viewed these new-age spiritual things with skepticism, when that line echoed in her mind, she couldn't help thinking back.
Discovered by Arasaka straight from the orphanage, she had been used as disposable deep-diver, salvaging and digging up Old Net data remnants for Arasaka.
Was her fate always in someone else's control from the start?
What a hopeless thought. Lucy laughed bitterly to herself.
But what about the moon? Once she got there, Arasaka—all those evil corporate tendrils—wouldn't be able to reach her, right? On the moon, she'd finally be free. Uncontrolled.
"What's the mission? Find Faraday? Or keep doing gigs for this 'new blood' Wells guy?" Lucy asked, having only caught part of Maine and Jackie's conversation.
Unlike other cyberpunks who dream of becoming legends in Night City, she just wanted to save enough money to reach the moon. She always felt out of place in the team. Interactions between the "stars" and the "leaders" never interested her—she only cared about the job.
"Wait," said Kiwi.
"Wait? Wait for who?"
"Mr. Wells' partner. A big shot for folks like you and me."
"A big shot..." Lucy might be inexperienced, but she wasn't stupid. Her senses went on high alert. "Corp?"
"Arasaka."
As Kiwi's words dropped, Lucy instinctively froze.
The room seemed to fall silent, only the cold wind howling past.
Memories surged like a tide, the pressure overwhelming, making it hard to breathe.
Images of that 'confinement facility' and the horrifying black-and-white clover emblem flashed through her mind. She stared blankly at the three tarot cards she had drawn, lost in thought.
"I... I have something to do. I'll head out first."
She turned to leave on reflex.
Thud.
She bumped into someone—Pilar, long-armed and big-handed. He had been outside the shop ogling the sex-dolls dancing across the street and now barked in his usual loud, crude tone: "Watch it, Miss Lucy... huh? Hey, Lucy, where you going? What's wrong? The job got scrapped?"
"Looks like she's hiding something from her past... some kind of deep tie with Arasaka," Kiwi remarked as she stepped out, hands in her pockets, taking long strides.
Skreeeech—
Suddenly, a piercing brake screech stopped right outside the store.
Lucy had barely stepped out of Misty's Esoterica when she froze in place. A matte-black Villefort Cortes V5000 sedan pulled into the shadows.
Click.
The driver-side door opened, and a woman stepped out with crisp, forceful strides.
Dark red suit, crimson turtleneck blouse, office loafers, and a fierce red side-cut hairstyle.
Arasaka.
And not just any Arasaka suit—a titled corporate officer.
In that moment, Lucy felt her entire body tense up. Childhood trauma made her instinctively take a step back. Her expression turned delicate and conflicted.
This wasn't one of those subway-hopping, overworked bottom-tier suits.
Hack her?
No. No way. A corp suit of that level would be wrapped in ICE she couldn't crack instantly. And at this range, she wouldn't be able to act before the suit responded. Plus, Little Chinatown was near the City Center. If she attacked a titled Arasaka operative here, Maine and the others wouldn't back her up...
Her pupils flashed with orange-red data streams—her mind raced.
V looked curiously at Lucy walking out of her brother's shop.
That stiffness, that dazed look, the pale rainbow bob cut, understated eyeshadow, young and clean—not like some jaded doll. Could her buddy really have changed his tastes?
But then...
V's instincts as an intel officer kicked in. Her cyber-eye scanned. Her gaze chilled.
Cortical ports. Deep-dive gear? Arasaka-grade equipment.
"Who are you?"
Just as Lucy was at a loss for how to react, a bright, cheerful shout came from behind her: "Hey, V!"
"This is one of the netrunners I told you about. Solid, huh?"
V's frosty expression cracked into a faint smile.
"Jackie," she nodded. "Impressive netrunner. Nice work. Let's hope you didn't get played. Is the perimeter secure?"
Jackie clapped V's shoulder with familiarity.
"Come on, it's me, Jackie. Native of Night City. Got Heywood blood in my veins. I know this turf. Can't guarantee much, but Maine's solid. One of the rare dependable leaders in Afterlife these days. This alley's under my watch. Crappy place, sure, but nobody dares step in. That guy Faraday... he ain't all that."
"Ha, you really haven't changed much."
Shaking her head, V turned to the lanky, big-handed Pilar, who clearly screamed 'fodder material.' "You. Watch that Cortes V5000. If I see even a scratch when I get back..."
Her eyes made the warning clear.
"Tch. You've gotten more high-maintenance."
"Mm-hmm." V raised a brow, noncommittal. Then she turned to Lucy, whose expression was unreadably off. "You. Inside."
Lucy said nothing.
Beep.
[Kiwi: Follow her, Lucy. I don't know your past with Arasaka, but this is an opportunity. One that might pull you out of the shadows. Or into them. But don't let Maine's effort go to waste.]
It was her edge-running mentor, Kiwi.
Her hand clenched. White knuckles showed faintly in her palm. In the end, she gave in. Her identity wasn't blown yet—she couldn't afford to run.
Tap tap.
She stepped inside.
Back room.
"One vodka, with ice, lime juice, and ginger beer. Oh, and the final touch... a dash of love. Thought of that last. So, what do you think? The Wells Special. You're the first to taste it."
Jackie slid the freshly mixed cocktail over to V.
She downed it in one go, saying nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the dark-skinned brute across the shattered coffee table.
"Military-grade Sandevistan. Projectile launch system..."
V bared her teeth in a grin. "You're still sane using that stuff? Not bad. Not bad at all. Sure, a big part of it's thanks to our new stabilizer drugs, but still—you've got talent. With two seasoned netrunners, some decent techs and muscle... that's enough. Let's talk business."
Her gaze swept across Maine's team, lingering longest on the white-haired hacker and the tall blonde bob-cut netrunner.
"Business? We're starting now?" Maine looked doubtful.
"Why not?"
She asserted her dominance with a smirk.
"You haven't earned the right for Arasaka to remember your name. As a show of good faith, here's part of the down payment." She boldly placed a credit chip loaded with eurodollars onto the beer crate serving as a makeshift table.
"200K euro."
"Remember, Arasaka's money doesn't come easy. Consider it like I was never here. I need you to meet with that Faraday and take his job... you know what I mean."
...
Seven, eight minutes later.
Maine's crew had left.
"That was your idea of a thorough briefing?" Jackie teased.
"Exactly." V clinked glasses with him. "Establish dominance, overwhelm them, bluff them. Hit them right in their weak spot and give them what they need. Any more words would just make us look insecure."
"Damn, V. If this job pans out, does that mean another promotion?"
"Not that easy. If that Faraday really got major backing from Militech, Counter-Intel alone won't be enough to bring him down. Anyway, just wait and watch the show. After a few drinks, I have to head out."
"Head out?"
"Airport pickup. More like filling headcount, really. Vela Adelheid Russell, Council Director, is en route to Night City International. My boss, and that other bitch who hates her, both rushed off to greet her."
Beep. V turned on the room's TV.
Night City News Channel.
A bold headline: "Vela Adelheid Russell to Arrive at Night City."
The host was hyping the crowd, describing how Arasaka's upper and mid-levels were swarming the airport in welcome.
Clink. They toasted again. Just as V was about to make a snide remark about Vela's rocket-speed rise...
"We interrupt with breaking local news."
The anchor had received an update.
"Just moments ago, in Santo Domingo's Rancho Coronado district, a large-scale gang firefight broke out. Witnesses claim it involves the 6th Street and the Barghest from Pacifica."