Persona, sothing I desire; gratitude, also sothing I desire.
This ti, Vela stood with her spine perfectly straight, her body held upright, and bowed her head deeply. It was a formal bow, expressing her thanks to the Arasaka morial before her—or more precisely, to the nas of her birth parents etched upon it.
...
Soone still believes in that kind of thing in Night City?
Passersby near the morial looked on, surprised. A drunk sprawled in the grass sniffed the air and looked around groggily for the scent of alcohol. Fringe dwellers struggling to survive in the city paused to glance over...
But upon seeing two towering company bodyguards—one in black, one in white—heavily modified for full-body combat and built like bears, most people quickly sobered up. So turned and walked briskly away; others muttered curses under their breath.
Patrolling Arasaka security officers recognized Vela's executive-level credentials and instinctively began moving toward her. Their cybernetic eyes openly scanned the surrounding crowd, driving off the loitering drunks.
Vela remained still, head bowed, for five full minutes.
In 2069, her parents died in the line of duty.
In 2074, Vela, at age 21, was promoted to Chief of the Special Assault Unit within the Arasaka Security Division.
Though still one rank below her late father's position—Deputy Director of the First Security Division—company convention dictated that inherited influence diminished over generations. Vela was now approaching the limit of her father's "legacy."
With ti and patience, she might climb one more rank.
But to surpass her father's ceiling—even if Vela believed she could—ant relying increasingly on her own rit. Beyond this point, her inherited advantage would begin to fade.
"Your wishes will co true. I promise."
Vela pressed her hand against the cold marble surface and whispered.
They died trying to reach the top of Arasaka Tower. Maybe they didn't have ti to express it, but she believed they had the sa hope for her. Fine. She would achieve it. She would climb to the top—the true top—of Arasaka Tower.
Looking up, Vela narrowed her eyes at the barely visible clover logo high above.
The ti will co, won't it? 2077. The great upheaval. The ladder of chaos…
After a while, she turned away, adjusting the elegant crystal bottle of Paradise Champagne one last ti. "Five days before cleanup," she instructed the Arasaka security staff nearby. Then, she walked back toward the tower's main entrance.
"Hm?"
As she stepped onto the stairs and reached the doorway, Vela suddenly stopped.
She turned her head.
Soone was watching her—with malice and hatred.
From her perspective, across the plaza and up on an overpass, a white figure that didn't quite fit the surrounding flow of pedestrians quickly slipped away.
It moved in haste and with obvious avoidance…
Vela was certain that for the briefest mont, sothing had glinted in her peripheral vision.
White… and translucent? Hair with a soft rainbow gradient?
"Commander?" One of the bodyguards, ever vigilant, imdiately noticed her shift in behavior. He blocked her line of sight with a protective stance and asked with concern.
"Heh..." Vela's brow arched slightly as she smiled faintly and shook her head. Then she turned away. "It's nothing. Just saw soone interesting."
...
Huff... huff...
Heavy breathing.
At the corner of the overpass, a white-haired woman leaned against the wall, gasping. She wore white eyeshadow, a white off-shoulder jacket, and a tight crop top that exposed her waist. Her asymtrical white hair, tinged with a faint iridescent gradient, hung low, obscuring her wide, shaken eyes.
"That company woman... is she really that sharp?"
The woman—striking and pale—lifted her head, cold sweat streaming down her brow, still trembling from the encounter.
All because of that bow to the Arasaka morial. Given her past, she had zero goodwill toward Arasaka, and watching soone show reverence to that na left her visibly irritated. She'd only stared for a few monts and muttered a few sarcastic words under her breath—only to have that damn company dog turn and look right at her!
Dead on. Eyes locked. It was like she'd been singled out.
"Arasaka..."
That na—hated and feared. The wicked gacorp.
"She didn't pursue . She probably doesn't know who I am... No, can't risk that. Better play it safe—drop the side hustle for now..."
Just as the white-haired woman reached for a cigarette to calm her nerves—ring ring ring—
Her violet pupils flickered with red data light.
"Hello, this is Lucy... Kiwi?"
...
Arasaka Tower, Biotech Research Division.
Old Net Tech Restoration Section.
Sterile white tal corridors, red-and-white symtrical umbrella logos, a naplate labeled "Russell" mounted on the door of a private lab.
Click.
The freshly promoted Vela Adelheid Russell left her "ho" in the Security Division and stepped into her personal lab at the Biotech Division.
Security work was her career, but biotech research—that was her "persona" hobby.
Coffee in hand, Vela stepped into the lab she hadn't visited for over two weeks. She rifled through so docunts in the desk drawer, noted that the place had been cleaned, then settled into her swivel chair and booted up her lab terminal with practiced ease.
Pinned at the top of the interface: business docunts from Arasaka's partner company Danger Gal.
Recovery and wellness services.
Great, the client was following up again.
Vela couldn't say no.
Sure, it brought in eurodollars—but more importantly, it helped spread her reputation as a genius.
More crucial still—
Danger Gal had started as a private detective firm, known in the industry for its distinctive style and sharp brand. Now backed by Arasaka, it had expanded into strategic consulting, legal services, advertising, entertainnt, and charity work.
It didn't control any core industries and was easily replaceable. Its existence depended on the needs of gacorps, major cities, and high society—a typical small-to-mid enterprise that made money through expertise and marketing.
But its founder was none other than Michiko Arasaka.
Eldest granddaughter of Saburo Arasaka.
Only daughter of the late Kei Arasaka, born in the U.S. to a Japanese-Arican mother, culturally aligned with the West. Now a board mber of Arasaka Corporation, she led the pro-Arica "dove" faction.
Vela had no interest in Michiko's politics. Her partnership with Danger Gal was a natural consequence.
As a high-ranking Arasaka executive, Vela obviously couldn't collaborate with subsidiaries of Militech or Kang Tao.
Thanks to Michiko Arasaka's authority, Danger Gal had a clear path to Arasaka contracts. They tried nearly every line of business they could. Whether it thrived or not was debatable—but the company was comprehensive despite its modest scale.
It covered all the typical needs of corporate workers.
Danger Gal's rehab and wellness services were like that—hardly booming, but not quite dead.
h. Hard to love, hard to toss.
Then Vela graduated from Arasaka Academy and got involved.
An untrained, naturally gifted genius—one who didn't abandon her passions even under the pressure of living up to her parents' legacy. She actually tinkered up real results in her spare ti!
Tap tap.
Vela worked with blistering speed. After reviewing Danger Gal's project needs and cross-referencing her own progress on Old Net recovery, she spent twenty minutes filtering and adapting dical tech from Umbrella Corporation—knowledge she seemingly "just knew"—annotating her logic, and using Arasaka's tools to build the prototype frawork.
[Regenerate]
A skincare product originally registered under Umbrella Corporation—one of the byproducts of T-virus research—it utilized a certain technique to reactivate dead cells, giving the user a visibly more youthful appearance.
A high-end skincare and wellness solution, complete with follow-up services.
The effect was real: healthier skin, relaxed muscles, treatnt of wear-and-tear, and overall rejuvenation.
Umbrella's dical technology truly was top-tier. Apart from the price, its claim of being 50 years ahead of the rest of the world wasn't an exaggeration.
In the cyberpunk world, while the lower classes obsessed over cyberware, the middle class—and especially the powerful elite—often preferred to preserve as many of their original body parts as possible. Hence, the demand for maintenance.
It was a status symbol for the wealthy. They needed that kind of lifestyle.
Moreover, the more advanced the cyberware, the better it integrated with the body and the lower the rejection rate. With proper fine-tuning and care, high-grade cyberware could even offer rejuvenating benefits.
To put it simply—this was a business of making money off the rich.
And then there was [Adravil]:
An Umbrella product developed from ibuprofen, enhanced repeatedly into a much stronger painkiller.
And [Aqua Cure]:
Umbrella's flagship civilian product for external trauma—truly life-saving, manufactured at a remarkably high technical level. Available in both civilian and military-grade ointnts.
The forr was what Vela used to justify her collaboration with Danger Gal as a side inco—completely above board.
The latter, however, was registered as Vela's "personal research contribution" to Arasaka.
Once raw material orders were placed, the lab's system would automatically process and dispatch requests. Deliveries arrived via dedicated aircraft. With everything accounted for, Vela stood, walked into the interior section of her lab, and changed into a cleanroom suit.
After passing through an ultraviolet sterilization tunnel, she operated the workbench's robotic arms from behind reinforced glass to begin refining the product.
Beep beep—
Vela watched as the "refined product" began taking shape through a series of precisely controlled processes—material inspection, pre-processing, adjustnt, purification, drying...
A slight pang of guilt tugged at her. It felt a little like thievery.
But having the collective research of another world's scientific minds at her fingertips? That felt amazing.
Umbrella develops and improves the product… so in this world, Arasaka's Vela Adelheid Russell develops and improves it.
And she always held back—never delivering the absolute latest version.
She didn't produce breakthroughs. She was rely the courier of results.
User Comments
0 comments from readers