"So, your idea of 'pursuit tactics' was to tell Misty about your gang past?"
Arthur shot Jackie a sharp look as he crouched beside him.
"She's a gentle girl, and you chose to impress her by talking about gang shootouts?"
Shaking his head innocently, Jackie explained,
"It wasn't bragging—it was sharing. She needs to know my past so we can get closer."
"Then why don't you tell her about the patterns your bedwetting left when you were a kid?"
Arthur slammed his water bottle against the ground. He never imagined he'd end up playing someone else's relationship coach.
"Do I really have to talk about things like that? Isn't that going too far?"
Jackie asked cautiously.
"So you do know some things are inappropriate.
You're supposed to share what she wants to hear. You really don't get such a simple principle?"
Arthur pointed toward a female boxer nearby, her muscular arms hammering a punching bag with heavy thuds.
"Maybe someone like her would be more your type."
Jackie chuckled, giving Arthur's broadening shoulders a playful punch. His next words came out with unwavering certainty, his tone hard as stone.
"I've set my sights on Misty!"
"Then go for it, Jackie. But don't screw it up this time.
Misty is absolutely worth it."
...
Meanwhile, above Night City.
The sky had long since become a playground for mankind. Mega-corporation ads pierced the clouds, glowing like forests rooted in the heavens.
Aircraft belonging to the city's elite drifted through this neon canopy like birds.
A massive wedge-shaped shuttle tore toward Night City at breakneck speed.
As it reached the city's air defense perimeter, the giant jet engines mounted around its hull pivoted in unison, slowing its approach.
"Unit 0473, transmit credentials."
Alongside the invisible signal, Night City's air traffic control tower began verifying the craft's clearance.
"Affiliation: Arasaka Corporation, Counterintelligence Division.
By resolution of the Arasaka Executive Council and approval of the Board, entering Night City to assume designated operations.
Operation ID: 88682."
The pitch-black shuttle bore a frog-hand emblem, boldly announcing its identity—Arasaka Corporation.
"Stand by for verification."
Inside, the craft contained multiple decks. The lowest held the cramped crew quarters, while the vast middle deck housed a dimly lit office.
At the center of the office, behind a pool-table-sized black desk, sat a burly man.
His tailored gray suit clung to his powerful frame, radiating menace.
"Everything in the city arranged? Some bastards don't know their place—clean them all up."
His voice was cold, stripped of emotion.
"It's complicated. Almost all of them are Abernathy's plants, deliberately left to screw with us. They won't even leave the Arasaka Tower. I can't find an opening to act."
The reply came from a woman standing before the desk. About 5'7", dressed in a perfectly tailored black executive uniform, her figure slender yet curvaceous. Jet-black hair cascaded down her back, gleaming faintly in the shadows.
"You know I don't like excuses, V."
The man slammed his fist onto the desk, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
"Fuck! I don't want excuses. I want results."
He swept the desk clear with a furious motion, sending everything crashing to the floor in a sharp clatter.
"Jenkins, if that bitch could kick us out of Europe, she can crush us flat in Night City too."
The woman's voice was crisp and unwavering, showing not a trace of fear before her furious superior.
Every word struck with weight, in stark contrast to her alluring appearance.
Perhaps the pain sobered Jenkins. He glanced at the cut on his hand from the scattered debris and casually wiped the blood away.
Exhaling sharply, he shifted topics.
"V. About your position—I've always tried to reassure you, but the truth is, there's never been a real solution.
This time, whatever you brought back from Europe, handle it yourself. I'll keep the company from pursuing the matter. Consider it compensation."
Jenkins knew exactly how important this woman was to his rise—important enough to rattle Abernathy herself. That was why he'd always shown V respect.
"You're my right hand. We're in this together. This Biotechnica operation is yours—completely.
It's our best shot at tearing that bitch down. You'd better pull it off flawlessly, so no one can find fault.
That's all. You can leave."
He slumped back into his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The sharp clicks of high heels faded until a blinding light from the hall cut across Jenkins' face. He forced himself upright.
The glare silhouetted the figure at the doorway, stinging his eyes.
He called out to her before she could leave.
"V. What just happened—that was on me."
"I understand. The pressure on you is still too much."
Her voice was respectful, but distant.
...
Corridors, stairwells, until finally her office.
On the way, V kept her elegance and authority intact, answering greetings from subordinates with cool composure.
Only when the office door shut behind her did she lash out, kicking off her shoes and clenching her pale, slender fingers into a hard fist.
"Fucking Jenkins. A worthless bastard chased out by a woman. If he weren't my superior, I'd have put a bullet in his skull!"
Muttering curses through clenched teeth, V's eyes swept the cramped office in fury. She fought down the urge to smash something.
She collapsed into her chair, forcing her muscles to relax. Clearing her head, she steadied her breathing in rhythm.
...
Meanwhile, Night City Air Traffic Control finished its verification.
"Unit 0473, clearance granted. Proceed to designated docking point.
Unit 0473, clearance granted. Proceed to designated docking point.
..."
The shuttle's engines shifted thrust, steering it toward the urban sprawl of Night City.
...
Inside the Devil's Boxing Club, Arthur wiped sweat from his body and unstrapped his training gear piece by piece.
Jackie had already left. After Arthur's advice, he'd rushed straight to Misty's Esoterica and Chakra Harmonization.
Vik had even complained—Misty often helped as a nurse at his clinic, but lately Jackie kept her completely tied up.
Arthur left the club and headed to his apartment. He'd been so focused on boxing that he hadn't taken on any jobs.
Daily expenses weren't much, but his savings were nearly gone.
The real cost came from training—he'd been buying high-quality food and supplements, and those were absurdly expensive.
He'd need to take some work soon.
...
The next morning, a call jolted Arthur from sleep. He didn't need to check to know who it was.
Jackie always called at the most irritating times.
"Bro, your method really worked! She's talking to me now."
Jackie's booming voice nearly burst through the line, and Arthur could picture his wide grin without even seeing it.
"Damn it, Misty's willing to talk to you, but I'm not.
You woke me this early for this crap?"
Half-asleep, Arthur muttered his reply.
"Of course not. To repay you, I'm buying you breakfast.
Cut the crap—I'm already downstairs."
Arthur threw on a coat and headed out.
It was the morning rush. Blue-collar workers and office clerks bustled through the megabuilding, filling the air with noise.
...