"Panama has been officially incorporated into the company's trade network. Unless the external environment or the war situation changes significantly, next quarter's Central American Division profits are projected to rise by 29%."
"The New American Federal Reserve shorted our Asian bonds last night. Subsidiary stock prices in Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, and Singapore plunged 19%. But we countered by acquiring Militech's helium-3 futures contracts in the lunar colonies. The Yunhai Base has taken custody of the cargo. The European Space Agency hasn't intervened yet. Our suppression of Washington's efforts to seize cosmic space development rights was a success."
"Three hours ago, we overloaded the banking server clusters and databases in Buenos Aires. Now, all of Militech's Argentine accounts are frozen in the blockchain—they can try fixing that. The military operations faced resistance, but progress overall remains steady."
"Militech's armed forces are being deployed en masse by transport planes to the South American front… Brazil again, Rio de Janeiro again. Years of work from the Engineering and Construction Department gone to waste—but the payments cleared. The broken pots and pans are in Brazilian hands. If anyone wants to hate, let them hate Hartford—Militech's current CEO—or Myers."
"The Free States Union's underground oil pipeline in Alaska has been destroyed…"
"The South Africa Division reports that over the past two weeks, they've endured deliberate surgical-style terrorist strikes. Meanwhile, Central African warlords backed by New America's military support are stirring. The firefight zone spans from Namibia to Botswana and up through Mozambique's northern border. Multiple field stations and border checkpoints have already been destroyed…"
...
Tok, tok.
Listening to the global war and administrative briefings compiled by the seven continental divisions of Arasaka Tower Three, Vela unfastened the button of her suit jacket, leaned back against her chair, and tapped a finger lightly against the armrest.
The bluish light of the holographic projection reflected across her face, her irises shimmering amid the data streams. Charts, tables, and countless statistics flowed like rivers converging into the sea, all displayed before her eyes.
Real-time data organized by category:
North American Front: a grinder of flesh and steel.
Stock Market: a ruthless financial war of capital speculation.
Earth-Moon Orbit: a silent cosmic strangulation.
Cyberspace: a digital slaughterhouse of souls.
Global Conflicts: a mix of open and covert sabotage operations, assassinations, and strikes against enemy military forces, manufacturing plants, research institutions, and key personnel.
Some reports were explained directly by support AIs, others summarized by corporate executives joining via holographic link.
Victories and losses intermingled—but overall, Arasaka held the upper hand.
Reports concerning Night City's Arasaka Tower and the Americas Division were most detailed, while updates from Paris Tower and Tokyo Tower were brief.
The topics ranged from military to administrative—understandable, since Vela was not only the supreme commander of the North American war front but also held senior executive authority in management and logistics.
Scenes like this had repeated countless times since the war began.
And she knew her place well.
Matters outside the Americas didn't need her direct involvement. Lunar colonies like Yunhai, banking departments, stock exchanges, European diplomacy—she stayed out of them.
As a candidate for the board, it was enough to understand Arasaka's global deployments and the broader situation. Any opinions or suggestions she had could be conveyed privately to the old man, Saburo Arasaka. Overstepping into another's domain was unnecessary and unwise.
Why rush?
If Saburo wanted to work overtime, let him. With him wrangling the EU, steering Arasaka's diplomatic and economic policies, Vela could at least rest easy during wartime, knowing Tokyo Tower had her back.
It was filial piety—letting the old man safeguard the family's legacy.
After all, Arasaka would be hers sooner or later—
"Yorinobu."
Vela's gaze paused on the section of the holographic display detailing reinforcements from the Far East homeland.
[New reinforcements: Arasaka Ground Forces 1st, 3rd, and 14th Divisions have landed in Night City, Los Angeles, and San Diego, respectively.]
Without a doubt, all arriving units were fully equipped elite A-Class divisions—
Loyal, die-hard hawks of Yorinobu's faction from Old Edo.
At a time when he should have been conserving his strength, Yorinobu had sent his most elite forces to North America under his "dear niece's" command. Ah, how touching—true family loyalty in times of hardship, a glorious display of the Arasaka family's unity and strength in the face of adversity—yeah, right.
Vela's expression was unreadable.
Others might not see it, but she certainly knew what Yorinobu was plotting.
The old fox was playing a much larger game than in the old timeline.
He had gone all-in—his self-destruction would come soon.
Vela was sure of it.
"Lord Yorinobu still knows the proper order of things."
Vice President James Thomas, projected as a holographic image hovering above the console, spoke with a touch of emotion. "How shall we allocate them?"
The subtext was clear: how should they be used—throw them in as cannon fodder, or quietly disperse and exhaust them?
"Keep their structure intact."
Snapping back to focus, Vela shook her head.
"They're all Arasaka's soldiers—our precious military assets. Standing idle while our allies bleed isn't my style. Don't bring the old Army-Navy rivalries of Japan's past into my battlefield, where people are dying for real."
Her calm, faintly smiling face betrayed no hint of emotion or political leaning.
"I understand."
James nodded and ended the call.
...
The war room returned to its orderly chaos.
"Phew."
After reading through reports and listening for hours, Vela finally stood up as the evening lights began to glow across the city.
Crackle. She stretched, easing her back, then accepted a cup of tea from her attendant. Taking a sip to soothe her throat, she walked to the steel-paneled window of her temporary office, gazing down at the bustling yet disciplined chaos of Oakland below—columns of soldiers moving through the streets, a city in motion under the shadow of war.
Since Yorinobu had chosen to step onto his own stage, it was time for her to begin her own symphony.
Cut where it must be cut. Regardless of whether the decoy strike through the pipelines succeeded or not—no matter how much of Myers' reserve mobile force it managed to draw—Vela would unleash the true offensive she'd been quietly building along the northern front.
Her pupils flickered with flowing data.
[Vela: Rahm, deploy the enhanced Alpha-class cybernetic Death Camp units, the evolved Cyber Tyrant Corps, and the new composite armor mechanized brigades. No more holding back—commit everything.]
[Rahm Hessman: Understood.]
Setting down her teacup, Vela gently placed her hand on the outer shell of the special metallic container labeled [Battle Armor System].
You'll be needed soon.
As if in response, the armor trembled faintly, emitting the cold rasp of living machinery.
After a brief rest, Vela returned to the war room.
Compared to the lethal frontlines, paperwork was nothing.
If you can't bear the burden, don't take the seat.
She might be trapped behind walls, but this was her battlefield.
North and South America's freedom fighters resisting New America's tyranny, and Arasaka's First Tower across thirteen states—those responsibilities rested on her shoulders.
[David Martinez, Jane Portman, and other deployable SAT Vanguard units have begun arriving at Omaha.]
"Then cast the die."
Vela moved the holographic cursor representing the SAT Vanguard onto Rahm's frontline command cluster.
Everything was in place. Details varied, but the greater pattern unfolded just as she had foreseen.
...
Meanwhile, in Nebraska—
A massive cluster offensive was underway.
Having just finished the Norfolk cleanup, David Martinez and his team had barely arrived in Omaha when a top-priority summons arrived from Director Rahm.