"Alright."
Jackie said nothing more and simply lifted the silver-white briefcase.
"Looks like my punches just got an upgrade."
Vik, deep inside the clinic, had already heard the commotion and now watched the scene with a smile.
"Seems you've made quite the friend—and a generous one at that."
"This is V. Works the beat in Arasaka, but he's trustworthy. He's one of us."
After introducing V, Jackie turned to Viktor Vektor.
"This here's Viktor.
The most badass Ripperdoc in Night City.
Doesn't matter if it's a major injury or a minor problem—he's the guy you want."
With Jackie around, there was never a dull moment, even if people didn't know each other well.
Seeing the others take their cases, Arthur pulled the last one—his own—closer. Curiosity got the better of him, and he lifted the lid of the heavy crate.
Inside, nestled in black foam, was a dagger, entirely black.
The blade and hilt stretched about the length of a man's forearm. Double-edged, with intricate blood grooves etched along the steel. Its hilt was wrapped diagonally in pitch-black leather.
"A dagger?"
Arthur gave V a curious look. He didn't care about how valuable the gift was, but compared to the others, this one felt… different.
Seeing this, V couldn't hold back a smile and began explaining.
"You know why the world's corporations put so much emphasis on space?
Why they fight tooth and nail to seize power up there, to claim more influence?"
"Great," Arthur said, his tone edged with impatience.
"Should I tip you for this little story?"
V looked at Arthur's slightly confused expression and wasn't sure whether to laugh.
"Alright, alright. To put it simply, this is tied to the Lunar Mass Driver.
You know, that massive thing that can throw rocks from the moon down to Earth.
Its core technologies come down to two things: dense atomic arrangement and controlled gravitational fields."
V walked over to Arthur's crate and pointed at the dagger resting inside.
"This is your Cyberware. It's called Gravity Bone.
In a way, it's part of the cyberware I already gave you.
Gravitational fields are the most stable force fields—hardly influenced by anything external.
This dagger acts as a counterweight. Without it, once the bone matrix is injected into your body, your muscles wouldn't withstand the massive weight."
V lifted the black foam beneath the dagger, revealing more than a dozen tightly sealed canisters.
The metallic sheen glinted under the light.
"This is the Cyberware. It's liquid.
Installation's simple: inject it into the bone, then rest a few days."
Arthur shot V a wary look. He hadn't followed most of her explanation, but the strange installation method made him shudder.
"Cyberware, huh… I could just skip it.
I mean, my skills don't need outside support. And if it screws up my aim?
Better idea—I'll give it to Jackie instead."
"Cut the crap!"
V clapped a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder.
"This is High Knight's work—a masterpiece from those born and raised in space.
Just producing these little canisters took insane amounts of energy, and they can only be made in massive controlled gravity fields like the Lunar Mass Driver."
"Fine…"
Arthur tried picking up one of the canisters, struggling to lift it.
"You're telling me to put this inside my body… and it won't crush me flat?"
"I told you, the tech's mature. The gravity field automatically cancels the excess weight.
And when you need it, it can redirect that weight back into action—say… when you throw a punch."
"Liquid Cyberware. That's brilliant.
An enhancement built directly on top of the body's natural organs."
Vik had been listening closely to V's explanation and couldn't help but admire it.
"Looks like someone here knows their stuff."
Everyone else looked completely lost.
V picked up the dagger and handed it to Arthur.
"Its connection to the bone is through gravitational field interaction. Netrunners can't touch it. Relax."
Arthur weighed the dagger in his hand, tossing it like one of his old throwing knives.
"Under gravity control, this thing can weigh up to thirty tons. Unless you want to crush yourself, that is."
That same day, Arthur underwent the implant surgery.
It was the most excruciating pain he could remember.
His lungs shook in his chest with every scream.
For the next several days, Arthur could do nothing but lie hooked up to life-support machines, eyes wide open.
Arasaka Tower was completely sealed off from the outside world, yet inside the air was as fresh as a forest.
It used the most advanced natural circulation system, with neat, vibrant greenery thriving in its corners.
Looking up from the base of the building felt like stepping into a legendary elven kingdom.
The Counterintelligence Division occupied four independent floors of the Tower.
The entire top floor was the office space of Director Jenkins.
Having completed her mission, V was now on leave. The shady matters she'd normally handle naturally fell to her superior.
At the end of the day, they were his responsibility anyway.
Jenkins set aside his papers and let out a soft sigh.
He'd been recalled because of Night City's emergencies, expecting chaos—only for V to clean it up quickly.
Now, with Europe quiet, Abernathy was still stationed there, giving him some rare breathing room.
His gaze drifted into the shadows of the office—a setting Jenkins had always liked.
He emptied his thoughts, savoring the fleeting freedom.
Yes, freedom was only temporary.
Because sooner or later, Abernathy would be back to shit all over him.
...
On the lowest of the four Counterintelligence floors, the standard office space housed a greasy, obese middle-aged man.
His round glasses barely fit on his head, with layers of fat squeezed between the frames.
He was Katsuo Tanaka, principal of Arasaka Academy.
"Yes, but that student dropped out.
His mother apparently had an accident—died in a car crash."
Another male voice spoke from the darkness.
"Sandevistan? Untrained? You're certain?"
"Absolutely. The surveillance footage I sent confirms it—it was Sandevistan."
Tanaka's expression carried restrained humility.
By rank, he wasn't much lower than the man across from him.
But the other was an active Counterintelligence agent, someone with direct access to higher-ups—something Tanaka couldn't compete with.
"Dropped out?"
The man across from him seemed deep in thought. After a long silence, he spoke slowly.
"I understand. I'll note it for your superiors. As for the rest—you may leave."
He paused, then added:
"As for that boy—since he's dropped out, stop all contact.
We don't want to spook him."
Tanaka obediently left the office. Walking through the dark-toned Arasaka Tower, his expression twisted and shifted.
He dreamed of returning to this building.
To that damn Academy.
His life—even his son's life—was stuck in that doghouse, reduced to kennel duty for Arasaka.
Everyone has ambition. He wasn't going to keep living that half-life.
And to climb upward, something had to be stepped on. If it wasn't tied to him, all the better.
And if the Martinez family had to suffer?
Ha.
In this hellhole called Night City, tragedies were too many to count.