"I've never seen such a grand scene in all my life."
Jackie muttered as he followed the escort convoy.
The pomp, the spectacle—it reminded him of his old gang days, when he used to flaunt gold chains without a second thought.
Corporate Plaza, Militech headquarters.
Employees from every department rushed about, buried in their work, oblivious to anything beyond it.
Office floors were arranged by rank—a structure nearly every corporation followed.
The higher the floor, the more relaxed people seemed. Yet their faces still carried worry, proof that higher status didn't mean an easier life.
In a mid-level office, decorated with a restrained sense of luxury, sat the strange father-son pair: Kool and Paul.
SMACK!!
The thunderous sound of fists on wood echoed as Paul slammed both hands against the desk.
Already a burly man, his furious strength made the desk shake violently, nearly toppling.
"You bastard! How dare you try to assassinate the head of Militech Intelligence?
We're equals! Do you understand? How could I have produced something like you?"
He roared like a caged beast, his eyes bloodshot.
Across from him stood Kool, his thin legs pressed awkwardly together. Just looking at him was enough to make most people uneasy.
His thick lips shone with lipstick, his bulging, fishlike eyes fixed timidly on his father.
"If she didn't die, then I had to, Dad."
His hands twisted nervously in front of his stomach. Though clearly a man, he fidgeted and stammered like he could barely string words together.
"Look at you! If Meredith's alive, none of us will survive!"
Paul hurled what he was holding at his son, then, with another roar, flipped the desk aside with one massive arm.
This was his subordinate's doing. Whether Meredith lived or died, Paul couldn't escape responsibility this time.
If she were dead, all would be fine—dead women can't talk. Logic would be on his side, and at worst he'd be demoted. But if she survived... he was finished.
"It's fine... My people said she went out alone. She's as good as dead."
Kool—neither man nor woman—spat the words through clenched teeth, his voice dripping venom.
Paul's unease only deepened.
As an adversary, he knew her well. His movements were absolute secrets, hidden even from the highest-ranking officials. How could a mere spy have uncovered them so easily?
"Idiot!"
Paul bellowed, smashing everything within reach, destroying whatever he could get his hands on.
At last he stopped, chest heaving. He blinked, then slowly turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of the office.
There, a door opened onto a steel ladder stretching into the sky—a private AV shuttle platform.
He couldn't wait any longer. He had to leave now.
Eyes flickering nervously, he made a call.
"Prepare an AV for me. Unregistered.
And I'll need a Ripperdoc."
If he was going to run, he had to strip every piece of Cyberware from his body first.
But the reply came from a woman's unfamiliar voice.
"Mr. Paul... our company has several Ripperdocs ready to serve you."
At her words, Paul's heavy arms dropped limply, the light fading from his eyes.
"This is Militech Operations, NetWatch Division.
Our Director has ordered your detention, and a resolution meeting has been convened. Please cooperate with the investigation."
As the voice cut off, Paul collapsed completely, as if someone had ripped the bones from his body.
Outside, heavy pounding rattled the door...
...
Night City had only one heart—Corporation Square.
Like the city itself, the plaza embodied perfection in every detail.
It had two levels, like two rings stacked together.
The lower level handled transportation, linking to every corner of the city.
From there, everything ascended, level by level.
Staircases, flowerbeds, and trees lined the way upward, leading closer and closer to the blue glass dome above, where colossal holographic goldfish drifted gracefully as if through the ocean depths.
The corporations kept those fish at the center, their brilliance outshining even the sun.
The convoy wound upward around the plaza, soon reaching the upper level. Beyond the glass floor, a roadway circled the plaza, leading to the gates of each corporate tower.
Arthur glanced at the towering Arasaka building—V was probably in there now. But his own destination lay across the plaza.
The convoy turned onto Militech's road and disappeared into the building.
"Director, as you ordered, Commander Paul has been detained and is in the decision hall.
We've submitted your charges, and several council members are waiting for your evidence."
As the vehicles halted, a female staffer approached, lowering her voice as she delivered the report.
"Understood...
And get me a wheelchair."
After issuing her orders, Meredith turned to the two men beside her.
"It's time to go."
"We're coming too? To watch your big meeting?
Seems unnecessary."
"It is unnecessary. You'll wait outside.
The evidence is solid. The meeting will be quick. Once it's over, we'll settle your payment."
In truth, Meredith had only just taken over the Operations Department. She hadn't built a loyal base yet, leaving her position fragile.
Now that cleansing the department was practically a certainty, she couldn't rule out desperate retaliation.
Following behind her wheelchair, Arthur and Jackie rode the elevator to the meeting room.
When the doors opened, the corridor beyond gleamed like polished marble.
Soft lights traced the subtle patterns, while neatly trimmed bamboo stood silently on either side.
Up ahead, double doors stood wide open, light pouring out so bright it obscured everything inside.
"Well, looks like we're just the doormen now."
Arthur spread his hands helplessly as Meredith's wheelchair rolled through the doors.
Several others hurried to carry the black box inside as well.
It wasn't long before Meredith reappeared. The icy mask on her face was gone, replaced by visible relief.
"Seems it's all settled. If I recall, that's a hundred thousand eddies."
She shot Arthur a sharp look, and moments later his account pinged with the transfer.
Clearly, that amount meant little to her.
"Come by my place. How about it? I'll give you your gift there."
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser