Chapter 167: Reactions from All Sides
The smoke from Maine's crew retreating from Arasaka Tower had yet to dissipate completely. The continuous fire and billowing smoke from the mid-section of the city's landmark building were like a hideous, unscabbed wound branded onto the Night City skyline.
Yet, contrary to the chaos imagined by the outside world, the entire city fell into an abnormal, suffocating silence.
This was not peace, but the extreme suppression before a storm, the instinctive retraction of claws by all creatures sensing danger.
An unprecedented tension permeated every street and alley.
At the Maelstrom's scrap yard stronghold, the industrial music that usually roared day and night fell silent for the first time.
The fanatics covered in crude cyberware rarely refrained from their daily destructive activities. Instead, they gathered silently before flickering screens, watching replays of the explosions on the news.
One exceptionally burly member crushed a metal can with his mechanical hand, hoarsely warning his cohorts to lay low recently, especially to avoid any unfamiliar faces wearing unusual gear.
The lawless Maelstrom gang showed a primitive reverence for absolute violence for the first time.
In contrast, although music still flowed in the Heywood district controlled by the Valentinos, the usual street festivals and family gatherings had been quietly cancelled.
Well-dressed bosses exchanged uneasy speculations in hidden booths, eventually reaching a consensus—while patrols would be strengthened, all conflicts potentially involving the corporate level must be avoided.
Even the Animals, who always worshipped raw strength, reined in their arrogance. Their muscles and claws seemed pale and powerless before that unknown force capable of evaporating armor.
In the command center of the NCPD, alarm lights spun futilely.
The dispatchers' voices on the comms channels carried an exhausted sense of powerlessness. They issued implicit but clear instructions to subordinate units: prioritize handling routine public order cases; all calls involving corporate property and high-level armed conflicts were merely to be logged.
Several police AVs circled symbolically in airspace far from Arasaka Tower, drawing a tacit boundary.
Senior detectives admitted privately that this was already beyond their jurisdiction. The entire law enforcement system temporarily retreated to the role of a bystander maintaining minimum order.
The media's shift was even more subtle.
At the beginning of the incident, all news channels broadcasted this "Attack of the Century" at maximum volume. Anchors and invited experts excitedly declared the end of the old order.
However, a few hours later, the tone of reporting began to change noticeably.
Footage detailing the combat of that squad was heavily cropped, leaving only blurry long shots.
The wording gradually shifted from "heinous terrorists" to "unidentified armed militants," finally settling on the cautious and vague description of "highly dangerous unknown entities."
Clearly, invisible pressure had choked the media's throat. Truth and ratings had to yield before the instinct for survival.
Their reporting became filled with uncertainty and restraint, as if any remark crossing the line could invite total destruction.
Under this eerie silence, the entire city held its breath and watched.
From corporate board members to street ronin, every soul surviving here tried to catch a trace of the future direction from this dead silence.
This giant beast, forever roaring in chaos, fell into collective aphasia for the first time due to incomprehensible violence.
Inside the strategic intelligence room of Militech's North American headquarters, fortified enough to withstand a nuclear strike, the air was heavy enough to wring water from.
On the massive holographic projection screen, those baffling combat clips played repeatedly with unsettling clarity.
The dry voice of the technical analysis director had just faded. The conclusion of a technological gap of at least twenty years plunged the room into dead silence.
On the faces of several high-ranking generals and corporate directors, there was not a trace of the pleasure due from a rival's humiliation, only bottomless gravity.
The North American CEO spoke in a low voice, trying to identify the ghost hidden behind Maine's crew. "European banks? Those old foxes prefer killing with Eurodollars and contracts..."
"SovOil and Petrochem? Their armed forces lean more towards regional defense..." The executive in charge of black ops ruled them out.
Just as the Chief Security Officer directed suspicion towards Kang Tao and pointed out that this could be the fuse for the Fifth Corporate War—causing the atmosphere in the conference room to sway between brief excitement over war prospects and deeper worry—
The main screen switched without warning.
The resolute and stern face of the NUSA President, Rosalind Myers, appeared in the center. Her gaze was sharp, carrying an authority that pierced through the screen.
Her access clearance obviously surpassed all conventional lockdowns of this secure room.
"Gentlemen," President Myers' voice cut straight to the core without pleasantries, as if she had been listening to the entire discussion. "It seems we are spectators to a sudden mutation capable of changing the chessboard layout.
"No need to repeat your analysis. The conclusion is clear: an unidentifiable third party, using technology we cannot comprehend, has smashed Arasaka's hardest shell in Night City for us."
Militech's CEO immediately adjusted his posture, his tone respectful yet carrying weight. "Madam President, as we fear, this is an opportunity, but the risks are uncontrollable.
"The objective of this unknown force is unclear, and their technical background is equally a threat to us. Arasaka's retaliation will inevitably be mad and reckless."
"Risk always exists. The key lies in how we harness it." Myers interrupted him, her gaze sweeping over the frozen image of flames on Arasaka Tower. "In 2069, we were forced to sign the Arasaka Tower Treaty. From that moment, reunification—making the NUSA great again—became our unfinished mission.
"Now, someone has delivered the opportunity right in front of us!
"Arasaka's prestige and the credibility of their regional defense have suffered a fatal blow. This isn't a conflict we started, but we absolutely cannot sit idly by."
She leaned forward slightly, the pressure she exuded permeating through the screen.
"What you at Militech see might be surging arms orders after war begins, a reshuffling of market share, the prospect of crushing rivals with new equipment.
"That's good. Profit drives progress; corporations need to make money.
"But what the NUSA government wants is results—Night City and the West Coast returning to the map, the fractured nation restored to wholeness.
"We want a victory. A victory that thoroughly ends the standoff between the East and West Coasts and lays the foundation for the NUSA's next century."
The CEO met her gaze, responding cautiously. "We fully understand and support the nation's strategic goals, Madam President. A unified market and stable environment also align with the corporation's long-term interests.
"But precisely because the goal is grand, we must be cautious. This unknown force...
"We don't even know who their next target is.
"If Arasaka's retaliation loses rationality, or if this force turns against us, the situation could spiral completely out of control, dragging us into a war of attrition against multiple enemies. That would be disastrous for both corporate profits and the great cause of national reunification."
(End of Chapter)