"...What does it feel like to see so many Arasaka soldiers patrolling Night City at once? What are your thoughts on NCPD signing a police service contract with Arasaka, and Deputy Mayor Weldon Holt spearheading a new land acquisition agreement to deepen cooperation? Are you surprised... or frightened by so many Arasaka supporters appearing in the Free State?"
"Never. Everything's just returned. Arasaka has simply come back."
"If you had the chance, what would you say to President Rosalind Myers?"
"Bitch! Fuck you!"
The day after the banquet and press conference held at the Cobalt Tower, where high-profile figures like Vela Adelheid Russell, Michiko Arasaka, and Weldon Holt met with Night City elites—
On the streets, a reporter from Network 54 conducted random interviews with passersby.
Though the journalist used every trick in the book—leading questions, semantic traps—the answers were mostly succinct middle fingers.
Most people couldn't care less about the injustices Militech suffered on the global commercial stage, or how many 6th Street members died, or how many buildings in Santo Domingo were destroyed, or what role Arasaka played and how much it profited.
All they knew was that Arasaka was about to develop the North Industrial Zone and establish a new research district. The city government had already announced the plan, which promised massive job opportunities.
"Yeah, yeah... Mom, I'll be careful. Vista del Rey has Arasaka deputies and NCPD—it's gotta be safer than Santo Domingo."
Inside an air-rail train, David Martinez held onto the overhead strap with one hand, clutching his chest-slung backpack with the other. His eyes, glowing with amber-orange communication signals, stared out the window at the Vista del Rey platform, where media were interviewing commuting citizens.
"Mm... I'll do my best. Graduation's coming up. Once I get my first paycheck, we'll move out. That dump in Santo Domingo? Anyone who wants it can have it... Gang wars nonstop—6th Street's gone, now Barghest is here, and they're even more brutal than in Pacifica... You stay safe too. Okay, I'm hanging up."
Beep.
Ending the call with his mom, Gloria, David took a deep breath and adjusted the backpack on his chest.
He stood rather than sat because the seats were grimy and he didn't want to dirty his freshly washed school uniform. The forward-facing backpack was to guard against pickpockets. Ever since getting robbed once, he'd learned his lesson.
As the train sped along, David gazed at the glittering lights of Vista del Rey and the patrolling Arasaka deputies and NCPD officers. His expression was a mix of awe and frustration.
A river apart—two different worlds.
Santo Domingo was ablaze with violent gang wars. Barghest had nearly smashed 6th Street's brains out.
Meanwhile, Heywood still danced and dreamed—debauchery and decadence.
Just a few days ago, many Vista del Rey residents had gathered along the riverbank like spectators. Some even set up grills and bonfires, treating the gang warfare across the river in Santo Domingo's Arroyo District as entertainment—like a live war-zone reality show full of smoke and blood.
Happiness, after all, is relative.
Both areas had wealth gaps and rampant gang activity, but at least Heywood didn't have crumbling infrastructure. No armored vehicles, no heavy drone mechs, no firepower outmatching the NCPD, and certainly no gangs rolling a thousand deep into public firefights.
Even for a local like David Martinez, the NCPD guarding the bridges, stations, and key transit hubs suddenly seemed a lot more agreeable.
Especially the Arasaka forces—the same Barghest that treated 6th Street like unruly children in Santo Domingo were now being incredibly polite the moment they saw Arasaka deputies patrolling Vista del Rey's air-rail station.
He never used to think much of it. His mom always praised the company, always going on about how amazing Arasaka was—Night City's No.1. Get into Arasaka and you ascend...
David knew it, sure—but he never truly felt it. Never so viscerally.
Now, after a gang war right outside his doorstep, after seeing carloads of 6th Street punks gunned down, their swagger crushed by the even more brutal Barghest...
David had never been so eager to graduate.
Once he did, he'd become someone even Barghest would treat seriously—an Arasaka man. Then he could get his mom out of that dump in Santo Domingo and let her finally rest after a lifetime of hard work.
As for their new home?
David had it all planned out: Vista del Rey, Heywood.
From Katsuo, he'd caught wind of some inside info—Commander Vela Adelheid might be planning to purge the remnants of 6th Street from Vista del Rey and bring in NCPD and Arasaka deputies to turn it into a "model zone" for Arasaka's police service contract in Night City...
Just as David was lost in thoughts about graduation assessments, a shadow flickered across the glass in front of him.
"Huh? Again?!"
Yes, the same line of movement as last time. Damn thief. He was no longer the same naive kid. Time to...
David spun around.
Thud-thud-thud! Suddenly—rapid, heavy footsteps.
Two figures moved even faster.
"Hrah—!"
David saw it clearly. A scruffy man dressed like a street punk was bolting through the aisle. Zzzrak! The connection door to the next car suddenly slid open, and two fully armored figures burst through.
Jet-black shadows blurred into afterimages.
In an instant—
David swore he hadn't even blinked, but it felt like watching a low-frame-rate video game. Whoosh! The black figure had already crossed the car.
Just as the scruffy man was about to slip into the next carriage, the shadow grabbed his waist, hoisted him up, and slammed him into a side seat with a bone-rattling suplex.
Boom!
The plastic chairback exploded into shards. The scruffy man probably broke a few bones. Just as he winced in pain and tried to resist, the second armored figure arrived.
He yanked the man up by the collar and delivered a brutal knee strike—crack!
David could practically hear the bones break.
And it wasn't over. One hand pressed the man's shoulder down, the other twisted his jaw up—then slam—crashed his skull into the next seat.
The back of his head split the plastic.
Meanwhile, the first armored soldier, having finished the suplex, reared back and punched the man in the face.
Thwack! His mimicry disguise mask shattered, flesh torn open, one eye burst, blood splattered everywhere.
The blood-soaked fist rose again—bang bang—two more solid punches.
Click.
A gun cocked. As his partner stepped back, the other soldier drew a pistol and aimed it at the bleeding face of the collapsed man—bang bang bang! Blood bloomed from his chest.
It all happened in a blink.
Only now did the other passengers start screaming in delayed panic.
"JKE-X2 Kenshin?"
David recognized the pistol model. He had one too.
Clearly, these two were Arasaka soldiers.
"We are Arasaka City Deputies, apprehending a criminal suspect. Citizens, please remain calm. The threat has been neutralized. The damaged facilities will be cleaned and restored at the terminal station."
After reassuring the stunned passengers, the two Arasaka deputies began dragging the unconscious man back through the connection door.
"This is Patrol Group 6-2309, we have a..."
As they passed David, one of the soldiers' glowing red cyber-eyes paused briefly.
"Arasaka Academy?" he asked, then moved on.
David stared blankly at the blood on the floor.
Part of him admired the soldiers' swift, decisive actions.
On the other hand, "Was that really necessary just to catch a thief?" David blinked and muttered.
Ding.
The train's arrival chime brought David back to reality.
Well, no use overthinking it.
Time for school.
...
Santo Domingo, Megabuilding H4 Apartments, the Martinez home.
For once, Gloria Martinez wasn't working. She sat on the couch by the window, looking exhausted.
Data streams flickered in her eyes.
[Gloria: Maine, that's how it is... Santo Domingo is just like that now. Constant gang violence, nonstop killings. The situation is too chaotic. No one knows what the future holds. I plan to move. David was right. For our safety, the sooner we leave, the better.]
[Maine: No problem. I'll loan you the money. After all, I owe you. And that hot product you gave me? Damn useful. Helped me and my team out of some tight spots. Though... it's killing me slowly.]
[Gloria: I'm really sorry. I had no idea...]
[Maine: Don't apologize. It's exactly what I needed. I have a favor to ask too. Your son should be about to graduate from Arasaka Academy, right? Once he joins the tower, he'll be one of those nose-in-the-air corpo dogs—cough, I mean elites. Have him buy a batch of Arasaka's latest immunosuppressants for me at their internal discount. That's all I ask...]
[Gloria: ...Okay. I'll do everything I can.]
[Maine: Thanks. I've already transferred the money. Gloria, Santo Domingo really isn't a place for a woman like you who just wants a decent life. Rent in Vista del Rey is dirt cheap. Just quit your job—don't wear yourself out and waste David's good intentions. Once he makes it big, it'll be your time to live in peace...]
[Gloria: Oh, Maine. I can't believe you're saying that now. Weren't you always complaining that corpo gigs were too rigid and boring? You insisted on being a cyberpunk.]
[Maine: Sigh. I've seen things... Arasaka, Militech—those giants are the real bosses.]
...
Watson, the increasingly fortified Arasaka Waterfront.
Vela was inspecting the temporary garrison site at the coastal port.
"Hey, Michiko. Why are you following me around?"
A fishy, damp breeze swept past. Vela held a cigarette between her fingers and pulled out a platinum lighter with gold-etched floral patterns. Clink! A flick, a puff of smoke. She turned sideways, somewhat helplessly glancing at Michiko Arasaka.
"Aren't we sisters?" Michiko asked with a teasing sparkle in her eyes.
Draped in nothing but a revealing golden dress, she stood at the dock completely unfazed by the stares of stunned Arasaka Security Division officers nearby, puffing smoke with a serene air.
Truly, Michiko was alone in North America with no close kin—bored out of her mind.
Her past boyfriends were mostly for fun or usefulness, maybe even love once, but those days were gone. In a world full of scheming and surveillance, she'd grown used to it.
When word spread about Saburo looking for an heir, Michiko initially felt no goodwill toward Vela Adelheid. But once she learned the details and spent time with her, she admitted—Vela intrigued her.
She wanted to test Vela's depth.
"Sure, but not quite yet."
Vela glanced at the woman who could be her grandmother.
Typical icon of the cyberpunk age, Michiko's mindset was far more youthful than even Hanako Arasaka, whom Vela had met often in Tokyo. Youthful in spirit and not actually old, considering how the elites' ages should be viewed in half-life terms.
With a light chuckle and no desire to bicker, Michiko shifted topics to the directive Vela had signed the night before.
"The land acquisition agreement passed. The relocation of residents from the northern Arasaka Waterfront suburbs has begun, along with part of the old North Industrial Zone... Classic divide-and-conquer, very Saburo. The Maelstroms—interesting. Seems they're not all lunatics. They understood your hint and got to work fast."
"Old tricks work if they still work."
"Reliable intel says Kurt Hansen began an internal purge the moment he returned to Dogtown. Militech's reportedly furious. What exactly did you tell Hansen?"
"A bit of friendship, a few skeletons, and some breadcrumbs."
Under the watchful gaze of the heavily armored Arasaka forces, Vela and Michiko walked through the coastal port teeming with automated cranes and robotic freight handlers.
The adjacent container yard had halted regular logistics operations. Rows of heavy military equipment were parked densely.
This was the northernmost point of Arasaka Waterfront and served as the temporary garrison site before the full research complex was completed. Naturally, it was also where Vela's temporary lab had been set up.
Connected modular high-grade biohazard isolation pods formed the cultivation and storage unit, while a docked transport vessel, converted into a large research ship, stood by.
Vela stepped up to the entrance of the cultivation storage unit, protected by motion detectors, electrified blade fans, and automated armored turrets.
It was secure enough for low-risk final products.
Beep-beep-beep.
The scanner turned from red to blue.
Vela looked at Michiko.
"Interested?"
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