"When it comes to pawns that have been abandoned, there's only one outcome—they get erased, gone from this world!
..."
V looked calmly at Jenkins across from her. She felt little reverence for this superior.
Though she rarely had anything good to say about him, his treatment of his own people was rare among corporate execs.
The fact that V had reached her position in her early twenties already said plenty.
"Damn it, you're still daydreaming! Looks like you don't want this job anymore!"
At that, Jenkins suddenly stopped, as if a switch had flipped in his mind.
An invisible weight had always hung over V's head, one she couldn't ignore...
It was the unspoken question both had tried to avoid. Now, he had touched on the only two possibilities:
Either let the company chain her completely, becoming one of their "own," or be thrown out.
For her, the second path seemed the only real choice.
"It's dangerous. I'll say it again—it's dangerous right now.
I don't need to spell it out. Arasaka clearly isn't going to let you just walk away. When it comes to dealing with their own, those Japanese bastards don't hesitate.
Our department's special...
At the very least, you should lay low."
Jenkins sank heavily into his chair, his voice edged with exhaustion.
"Sacrificing a life just to buy time? Not worth it, whichever way you look at it.
And if it's one life now, next time it'll be two.
This time it's some piece of junk they're calling the Cyberware Titan. Next time it'll be some other ridiculous piece of cyberware.
If someone wants to stir trouble—and they're above me—then this isn't ending anytime soon."
V knew the company all too well.
Arasaka might look untouchable, flaunting its victory in the Fourth Corporate War. On the surface, it had secured a foothold in Night City, stretched its reach back into the Americas, even parked an aircraft carrier to show off its muscle.
But the truth was... Arasaka was still just a company. Compared to Militech, backed by the military might of an entire nation, its foundation was shallow.
Arasaka wasn't just hated abroad—it was despised in Japan too.
Look at the Northside Industrial District—almost entirely funded with Japanese investment, and it all collapsed the moment Arasaka showed up.
The reality was that Night City survived only because it had sold itself to corporations worldwide. This city belonged to all of them.
"You... get some rest.
Find someone to take over your responsibilities."
In the dim light, Jenkins fixed V with a weary gaze.
His meaning couldn't have been clearer.
Even if the threats surrounding V seemed like rumors for now, Jenkins had already decided to prepare early—before the wave came crashing down and swallowed them whole.
Without the protection of that corporate suit, V might still find a way to get by. But for him, survival itself would be in question.
Among the few who truly sat at the top of Night City's corporations, almost no one ignored the city's dark underbelly.
And morally speaking... in the world as it is now, is anything really clean anymore?
As for firepower, there were lunatics smuggling nuclear warheads in suitcases. A handful of elite mercs could topple an entire corporate convoy.
Trust those overpriced bodyguards? Don't kid yourself. Push the wrong people too far, and even Saburo Arasaka would have to slink back to Japan.
For this, she could only count on her friends from the other side of the city.
She caught the meaning in his words, staying silent, her face expressionless.
Darkness covered his features—and hers as well.
"Good luck..."
V muttered, turning to leave, when Jenkins' voice followed her.
"You too. Good luck...
If we meet again, maybe next time I'll be the one still standing."
He made a rare joke. V only shrugged indifferently and walked out.
He clearly knew more about the situation, but his position kept him from saying more.
That so-called outburst, the whole conversation—even if it looked like guesswork—carried a message loud and clear:
She was trapped in this mess, whether she liked it or not.
For now, things might look calm, and V could even use the chance to run. But there was a condition.
The intel from the other side was revealing—almost certainly Abernathy's work.
They had given only David's projected location days later. For now, his whereabouts were completely unknown to her.
If she left the company too soon, that intel would become worthless.
There was no need to think twice—she had no way of finding his current location.
If she wanted to save David, she had to stay inside the company, waiting for him to appear where he was supposed to—and at the same time, waiting for the trap to close around her.
Realizing this, V instinctively closed her eyes. In her Neural Link, a quiet node pulsed deep in her system, hidden in the underlying code.
So still, it blended almost perfectly with the core logic.
And yet, that was her trump card—the reason she dared dive into danger.
She was like a diver beneath the ice. Without a line to hold, death was certain. But tied around her waist was a rope no one else knew about.
Well—not no one. Arthur knew. She needed someone to pull it.
...
By nightfall, the group that had gathered at Vik's clinic that morning had long dispersed. Arthur was heading from City Center back toward Watson District.
As urgent as David's situation was, Meredith's problem with Militech seemed even more pressing.
Damn it—how could anyone offend a top Militech executive, and in such a blatant way as blowing her off?
Still, she seemed younger now—or rather, she'd regained the vitality someone her age should have. Maybe she had just been overworked before.
The monorail roared overhead, sweeping past Night City's busiest districts just like yesterday, carrying Arthur toward Watson.
As the train crossed into Watson's skies, the neon below still blazed bright.
From a distance, the area looked almost as prosperous as Westbrook. Of course, that illusion disappeared the moment you stepped inside.
And if you ran into the drunk vagrants—don't get too close. Otherwise, you might end up with vomit on your jacket... and an empty pocket.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser