"Never would've guessed," V said, seated across from Joanne Koch at a high-end restaurant in City Center.
Joanne was still visibly shaken.
"Can't believe… that's what Michiko Arasaka is actually like."
V nodded.
Arasaka Michiko — born 2008, granddaughter of Saburo Arasaka, only daughter of Kei Arasaka.
A pure-blooded heir of the Arasaka family…
And a hardcore otaku.
The reigning Queen of Night City was sixty-eight years old, though she looked barely twenty. She wore a sailor uniform, pleated skirt, bubble socks, little leather shoes, with cartoon star stickers on her cheeks and cat-ear headband perched on her hair.
The contrast was absurd.
Absurd… and dangerously cute.
Cute enough to make V's worldview start to go off-axis.
A terrifying old lady indeed.
V took a sip of tequila. Rumor said that Michiko had met with the U.S. President alone when she was fifteen; maybe this "cuteness" had always been one of her diplomatic weapons.
"So… what did Miss Michiko say when she kept you back at the end?" Joanne asked.
V didn't hide anything — no need to.
"She tried to recruit me. Corporate boilerplate — big promises, vague threats. Told me she 'admired my talent,' didn't approve of Abernathy's methods. Said that if I played along, she'd protect me from Abernathy, and that promotions, rewards… all would come my way."
"You buy that?"
"If I bought it, I wouldn't be sitting here with you."
V leaned back casually. "Stop probing me, Joanne. We're both strays. Separate, we're nothing — like chopsticks in a bamboo tube, useless alone. Together, though? We can actually accomplish shit."
"Heh."
Joanne snorted. "You say that like you don't scheme. You're holding dirt on me, remember?"
"Exactly. Good that you haven't forgotten."
"Come on! I already agreed to work with you! Can't you delete those files? I just ran a few tests on some randos — everyone in Night City does that. Why are you being such a stickler?"
"I'm not. And I'm not judging you either. I just know exposing that would destroy you. With it, our alliance stays stable."
"Stable? You're practically controlling me at this point."
"In every alliance, someone leads. Like right now — Biotechnica is drowning, and Arasaka's the only one extending a hand. I'm sure your bosses told you to swallow your pride and secure cooperation at any cost."
Joanne's mouth twitched.
She hated it — but it was true.
Biotechnica was under attack from every megacorp. Arasaka was both its bitterest enemy and the first to throw a lifeline. Disgusting as it felt, Biotechnica needed that lifeline.
"I'm starting to believe it now… Abernathy isn't your match. You're way more despicable than she is!"
Abernathy was at least straightforward.
But V?
V played dirty.
V chuckled. "Thanks for the compliment. And I'm aware unilateral control doesn't help long-term cooperation. So here — I'll give you some leverage on me too."
Joanne raised a brow. "What, a parking ticket? You forget to sort your recycling?"
Did V think she was stupid? No way V would hand over something real.
V's eyes glowed blue. She sent a medical report.
"What the—!" Joanne shot up from her chair. "Whose nervous system is fried like that? Poor bastard!"
"Can it be fixed?" V asked calmly.
Joanne scanned it again, shaking her head.
"No. Beyond repair. Whoever this is — they're done. Dead person walking."
Silence.
Joanne's expression shifted slowly. "Wait… this is you?"
V nodded. "You've been wondering why I'm betraying the company. Now you know."
"FUCK!" Joanne hissed. "Here I thought I'd found myself a big, strong backer — turns out you're practically a corpse! Even some random street punk could kill you!"
"Which is why I need you to fix me."
Joanne bent over the report again, frowning deeper and deeper.
"These neurons… they were hit by gamma radiation. And the neuron count is wrong too. This isn't an illness. Someone did this to you. But the technique… it's way beyond anything in 2076. I don't know a single medical group with this capability."
V nodded internally — because her treatment had happened in 2079.
"Can you handle it?" V asked.
"Let me think… let me think…" Joanne went silent for minutes, then suddenly raised her head.
"Why should I fix you? If you die, my blackmail dies with you. Isn't that better for me?"
"You can kill me. But I'll drag you down first. I'm not only holding your dirt — I'm also the liaison overseeing the Arasaka–Biotechnica partnership. I can demand you handle negotiations and take all the credit… or I can cut you out entirely. You'll rise or fall with my word. Want to test me?"
Joanne paled immediately.
She was extreme — selfish to the bone. She'd betray her company or her dignity if necessary. Every word V spoke hit her exactly where she was weakest.
"I—I'm sorry, V. You know I didn't mean that. Just… just messing around."
"Good joke. Don't tell it again."
V took another sip. "So. Can you fix me?"
Joanne finally answered more honestly.
"No. Not yet. I need more time. Seriously — I'm not lying. Biotechnica is developing a nano-neural repair compound, but it's still experimental. Too dangerous to use. Once it's stable, I can try."
V had seen ads for that drug — in 2077.
Meaning in 2076, Joanne was probably telling the truth.
"Fine. I'll wait. But if I find out you're playing games—"
"I won't. I swear. Letting you die would screw me over. I'm not tanking my own future." Joanne hesitated. "But… there's another problem."
"Say it."
"I need test subjects. The more we have, the faster the compound improves."
V set down her glass.
"You mean… people?"
"Yes." Joanne looked uneasy. "I know you dislike that stuff. But this is for medical progress. Sacrifice a few to save many."
"I understand." V nodded. "I'll provide the subjects. Night City is full of trash."
"Huh? Trash?" Joanne blinked.
"Maelstrom. Scavs. Cyberpsychos."
"O-oh. I was thinking normal people would be easier to grab…"
"Doesn't matter. To Arasaka, everyone in Night City is 'normal.'"
Joanne brightened. "You'll deploy Arasaka ninjas? Heard they're the best black-ops unit among all corps."
V smiled without confirming.
Instead she tapped the table.
"Let's talk business. What's Biotechnica's bottom line for the deal?"
"Locust Farm in the badlands. If Arasaka sides with us, my bosses are willing to hand over the synthetic-meat production line."
"Bold." V didn't mince words either. "Arasaka's bottom line: limited military support. If necessary, Arasaka can provide a strike force of 500 elite Samurai and 100 Takeda-class powered suits."
"Holy shit!" Joanne nearly jumped. "Arasaka really is Arasaka — filthy rich!"
"Then it's settled. Bottom lines from both sides. And this force… I'll request they operate under your command. After all, you're the person I trust most."
"Haha! Of course — you're the person I trust most too. So the synthetic-meat line will go under your control, Deputy Director V."
They both smiled and shook hands.
"Pleasure doing business."
And just like that, the negotiation ended before it even began.
"Upper management isn't stupid, so we need to put on a show. I figure our 'negotiation' should last at least three days. Your side will pretend to yield first. I'll pretend to offer half the military force. Then you push back hard — eventually I'll 'reluctantly' agree. That okay?"
"I don't have experience with this. Do it your way."
"Great. We'll stay in touch."
V left the restaurant.
"Another drink! The most expensive you got!" Joanne yelled at the bartender.
Not because she lacked cunning —
but because she was ecstatic.
With Arasaka's armed force in her hands, her position in Biotechnica would be unshakable…
No — more than that.
If she pulled this off, she'd become a legend.
And if she failed…
"Fuck it. If V's not scared, why should I be? All in!"
She downed the liquor in one gulp.
In Night City, everyone was insane.
She'd boarded V's pirate ship — and there was no getting off now.
Westbrook — Japantown
V stepped out at the Sakura Market and walked toward Jig-Jig Street.
She wasn't here for fun —
she was here to meet a queen.
Outside a pachinko shop, a father and daughter were surrounded by Tyger Claws.
"You didn't pay protection! Sell the girl!"
"No—please—don't touch my daughter!"
"Oh, still resisting? You got balls."
"Papa! Papa, are you okay?! Please! We'll pay! We'll pay anything!"
"Too late. Cloud needs fresh meat. Grab her."
Screams.
Crying.
Begging.
No one stopped it.
Night City business as usual.
Suddenly—
sparks burst from the gangsters' heads and they all collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
The father and daughter froze, then fled.
V walked past them like a stranger, stepping calmly into the pachinko parlor.
A chance encounter was reason enough to act.
If she saw it, she'd intervene.
If she didn't, nothing she could do.
V wasn't a saint.
Never wanted to be.
Through the noise of clacking pachinko balls, she walked straight into the back office behind the bead curtain.
An elderly woman sat inside, hanging up a call.
When she saw V enter, she raised a brow.
V nodded.
"Madame of Westbrook. Wakako Okada. Pleasure."
"I don't welcome uninvited guests." Wakako leaned back in her chair. "Not planning to introduce yourself?"
"Name's V. Just V."
Wakako froze for a second.
Then suddenly shot to her feet.
"Deputy Director V — Arasaka Counterintelligence?!"
V shrugged. "Want to see my badge?"
Wakako stiffened awkwardly.
"Apologies, V-san. Your… modest appearance threw me off."
"It's private business."
V sat casually, crossed her legs.
"I don't have much time, so I'll be direct. I need the Tyger Claws' Dermal Ink."
"That's simple. Go to Kabuki, find a ripperdoc named Cassius. Tell him I sent you."
"I don't think you understood me." V leaned forward. "When I say 'Dermal Ink,' I mean everything about it. All data."
Wakako frowned.
"Since when does Arasaka take tech from street gangs?"
"Which is why I said — private business."
Wakako's voice chilled. "And if I refuse?"
V shrugged again.
"Then private business becomes public business."
Wakako: …
Dammit!
If you're gonna pull rank, just do it outright — stop teasing an old lady!
V had to admit — it was fun teasing her.
Okada Wakako was usually composed and unfazed. Seeing her flustered was… delightful.
No one disobeyed Arasaka.
Not even the Queen of Westbrook.
V got what she wanted easily.
"Thanks." V stood, but paused at the door. "This is private. You understand."
Wakako zipped her lips with her fingers.
"Of course. I swear on my fixer's honor."
V left for real this time.
Wakako stared at her fading silhouette.
"Strange… I swear I've seen this Deputy Director V somewhere before…"
V walked through Jig-Jig Street and back to Sakura Market, entering the waiting Delamain cab.
"Take me to Viktor's clinic."
"Certainly. Delamain — leave your worries at the door."
Viktor's Clinic
Viktor examined the Dermal Ink and nodded in approval.
"Didn't know the Tyger Claws had shit like this. Wild idea. But compared to Smart-Link Hand Implant, this is primitive. Less RAM, no lock-on speed boost."
"But almost zero neural strain." V sighed. "In my condition, I'll take what I can get."
"Alright. Give me a moment to prep."
V lay on the medical bed.
"Dermal Ink" was basically a tattoo —
but the Tyger Claws infused it with nano-bots, programmed to link with the skin's neural network, enabling Smart-weapon compatibility.
V was dancing on the edge of a cliff.
If she couldn't enhance herself through cyberware anymore, she'd use smart weapons instead.
By the time Viktor finished, it was past 1 a.m.
V pulled down her sleeve to hide the tattoo, drew an Arasaka-prototype Smart SMG she "borrowed" from the armory, aimed at Viktor, and pulled the trigger.
Ratatatat!
Bullets streamed out —
then curved mid-air, bending around Viktor and hitting the wall behind him.
Every single round — all 30 — landed on the exact same spot, leaving a single bullet hole.
Smart weapons.
Each round with its own micro-thruster and guidance.
Once locked on, never missed.
Perfect for beginners.
V wasn't a beginner —
but without cyberware, she lacked the strength for precision shooting.
Right now, Smart weapons were her best option.
"Damn!" Viktor whistled. "Pretty piece. Arasaka, right? Never seen it on the market."
"Shingen-V Prototype. Personal-collection model. Arasaka only."
"Corpo perks." Viktor shrugged. "Anyway, pay for the wall."
V: …
After transferring the eddies, she headed for the door, when Viktor called out.
"V."
"What? I paid already."
"That's not it." Viktor's voice softened.
"Don't forget — three minutes."
V's chest warmed. She gave him a thumbs-up and left.
"That kid's gonna give me gray hair…" Viktor muttered, turning on the TV to watch his favorite boxing reruns.
Outside, passing Misty's Esoterica, V noticed new decorations and stepped in.
Masks hung along the walls — tarot-themed, strange styles, totally mismatched with the city.
"How's it look? My new gimmick to boost business!" Misty beamed.
V figured:
if her 2077 self never saw these…
then Misty probably failed.
Still — worth encouraging.
"I'll take one."
"Which?"
"Death."