Though they'd confirmed it was Arasaka's handiwork, the exact faction behind it was still unclear.
Even a dorm of a few employees could splinter into rival cliques—let alone a corporate giant like that.
Under everyone's gaze, Arthur dialed V.
It was nearly nine in the morning, so there was no worry about disturbing a Corpo's sleep.
"The only thing nobody envies about corpo dogs is probably their wake-up time."
On the other end, the woman's reply was as crisp and decisive as ever, though lacking some of its usual strength.
Once the call connected, Arthur laid out the entire situation from start to finish.
V stayed silent for a long moment before murmuring, almost to herself:
"If you're sure it's Arasaka...
This does feel like something the Counterintelligence Division would do."
After all, Arasaka had only two departments that truly held authority beyond the company—
the Security Division and the Counterintelligence Division.
The Security Division's name might sound unremarkable, but it commanded all of Arasaka's mercenaries working abroad.
As an Eastern-origin megacorp, Arasaka had borrowed much from its homeland's culture and management philosophy.
They'd even established a department with virtually no resources, placed above both Security and Counterintelligence.
It couldn't prevent every risk, but it ensured problems were spotted almost immediately.
And just as Arthur had said, the cover-up at the scene was sloppy—they'd even shaved the Tyger Claws' heads.
Arasaka was always heavy-handed, even its Counterintelligence operatives.
But if the Security Division had been involved, there wouldn't have been a single trace left to find.
In her cramped, dimly lit office, V rubbed her temples in frustration, forcing herself upright as her neural link synced with the terminal.
Another sweep through the squad logs.
The results were no surprise—no mention of David anywhere.
If they'd wanted her to know, it would've been reported days ago. There was no way V wouldn't have known.
"Wait for my update. If this really was Arasaka, I'll find it."
It wasn't arrogance. The truth was, someone like David—a kid with no background—wasn't worth much in corporate terms.
...
Once the call ended, the weight of V's words lingered heavily in the room. Nearly everyone's eyes sharpened with tension.
"Don't... lose hope..."
Arthur spread his hands in resignation and said:
"She said she'd look into it."
At once, expectant gazes turned into disappointment.
Even the light in the room seemed to dim.
To the others, Arthur's words sounded like nothing more than a brush-off.
"Quietly wait for news... it's all we can do now."
...
Disconnecting her neural link, V already had an idea of who was responsible.
Within Counterintelligence, only those two snakes shielded by Abernathy would dare bury intel and act on their own.
The rift between Abernathy and Jenkins was beyond repair. Naturally, their subordinates mirrored that hostility.
That those two had stepped in to stir the pot now was hardly surprising.
Back when they hit the Biotechnica CHOOH2 plant, V had led the plan—but she certainly didn't owe David anything.
Arthur had told him there might be medicine there that could save his mother. That was the only reason he'd come along.
In truth, David owed V a favor, not the other way around.
But this wasn't the time for such thoughts. V wasn't a saint—her rise had been paved in blood.
A killer, through and through.
Yet if it meant sacrificing her friends' lives, she knew she'd never do it.
With that in mind, she stood and headed toward an office area downstairs.
"Boss..."
She hadn't taken more than a few steps when an employee hurried over, holding out a micro-terminal.
"Report from Team Three. Looks like Militech's making moves.
They've mobilized a lot of half-scrap armored vehicles. Not sure what they're planning."
"Where are they gathering?"
At the name Militech, V froze, frowning.
Anything involving them was never small—and this kind of odd maneuvering was worth attention.
"The whole operation's out in the Badlands.
Doesn't really touch us, but it's so strange we thought you should know."
She skimmed the data, then flicked the terminal back into the man's hands.
"Leave it on my desk."
That was all she said before striding off again.
V preferred to tackle one problem at a time.
...
She soon found the two so-called "traitors" who were practically idle.
They'd been sidelined for ages, given no real work.
Calling them traitors was generous—what kind of traitor gets left in their original department?
They were nothing more than pawns Abernathy kept solely to get under Jenkins' skin.
"Supervisor..."
The woman in charge immediately set down what she was doing and stood up respectfully when V arrived.
"What brings you here?"
Her posture was flawless—there was nothing to criticize.
"Today... did you send someone to capture a mercenary?"
V had no interest in wasting time with this self-important fool.
She might think her "sacrifice for the cause" was impressive, but it was all theater for an audience that wasn't even watching.
Abernathy didn't even look at her, let alone care.
And Jenkins—well, as he'd said himself, an open traitor was safer than one in the shadows.
These two had long since become part of the unspoken balance in the power struggle—the most worthless kind.
"Yes... we did capture one.
He's been fitted with experimental Militech cyberware but hasn't gone cyberpsycho—a rare case of tolerance.
The company intends to use him for testing custom cyberware for Commander Smasher. Director Abernathy ordered us to select a suitable subject."
Though her tone remained respectful, there was a faint, smug lilt in her voice she couldn't disguise.
...