As V's ally, the Phantom Dogs' entire system had already been upgraded with Poseidon Subnet architecture.
Even so, someone still managed to slip in without triggering a single alarm—moving freely through the data fortress as if strolling through an empty courtyard.
Only one person V knew possessed hacking skills of that caliber:
Bailing — Song Zhaomei.
Codename: Bird-of-Paradise.
A netrunning monster who had once wielded a fragment of Blackwall's power—
and had even repelled V when V herself was at near-peak condition.
(Well… peak condition when Relic wasn't glitching.)
While V was mentally complaining, Bailing seemed to have already completed her data extraction and was preparing to leave.
"Seems to," because inside cyberspace, everyone appeared as vague silhouettes made of 0s and 1s—
faces blurred, movements indistinct—
intent almost impossible to decipher.
V felt a trace of guilt.
Last time, she had sold Bailing out.
But a war was coming.
And Bailing was Myers' sharpest blade.
In modern warfare, a top-tier netrunner was deadlier than a carrier strike group.
V made her decision without hesitation:
—She could not let Bailing leave alive.
Suddenly, Bailing felt a chill.
Her firewall detonated—bursting into fragments.
Detected.
The shock startled her, but she didn't panic.
With a wave of her hand, she re-established seven layers of nested ICE.
But a roaring flood of data tore through the dark like lightning—
its raw computational power overwhelming.
Bailing watched layers of her ICE shatter one after another.
Her face sank.
Whoever this was—
was on her level.
"Fuck!"
She cursed, pulling compute cycles from the massive server she was tethered to.
She stabilized her final ICE layer—
not only stopping the "thunder strike," but tracing the attack's origin.
"COME OUT!"
With her command, V's digital disguise peeled away—
revealing an avatar identical to Bailing's.
Before V could re-mask, a storm cloud formed overhead—
and digital rain poured down.
Each drop was a string of hex-coded viral payloads.
Good grief.
The little bird was playing rough.
V smirked.
She clapped her hands.
A massive bronze colossus rose from the barren cyber-wastes.
Its joints turned with encrypted keys—every rotation regenerating them.
The flame in its chest was a topological quantum algorithm—
every pulse a refresh cycle.
The bronze giant punched upward—
shattering rain, storm clouds, and the sky itself.
It stomped—
fracturing wind and ground—
then brought its foot down toward Bailing.
A thunderous shockwave rippled across cyberspace.
Overflowing data dissolved back into raw 0s and 1s—
scattering like shrapnel.
From beneath the giant's heel, orange-red data surged—
gathering—condensing—
until it burst forth as a golden phoenix, tearing itself free and soaring upward.
Each of the phoenix's feathers was a dancing Hilbert curve.
It spat fire—
a torrent of Gödel numbers.
When the bronze colossus raised its arm to block—
the phoenix's flame disassembled it at the quantum level—
reducing it to discrete bytes.
Glitches poured from the stump like metal blood.
Bailing exhaled triumphantly—
for exactly one second.
The metal blood reassembled midair—
forming writhing topological serpents.
They lunged, sinking venom-coded fangs into the phoenix—
injecting a tracking protocol.
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—
Bailing's personal ICE howled warnings.
The golden phoenix convulsed.
Shit.
When had Kurt Hansen recruited someone like this?
Either way—
she could not allow herself to be traced.
Gritting her teeth, she forced her phoenix into a suicide dive.
The one-armed colossus mirrored her.
Both constructs slammed together.
No explosion.
No shockwave.
Only the eerie hiss of overwriting data.
The phoenix shattered into patterns of discrete cosine transforms.
The colossus melted into a pool of paradoxical recursion.
The entire cyber-wasteland collapsed—
folding into a Möbius strip—
looping once—
and resetting to zero.
It was over.
Bailing breathed out slowly.
Then V burst out of the data-dust.
Her fingers formed a spear—
compressing an attack protocol into a spiraling Fibonacci helix—
—and she drove it straight toward Bailing's forehead.
CLANG!
Bailing threw out her arms.
A crystalline wall of encrypted data snapped into place.
Barely—
and only barely—
blocking the killing blow.
Cracks spiderwebbed rapidly.
The spearpoint advanced toward her face.
In the real world, Song Zhaomei was drenched in cold sweat.
Her body trembled.
Reaching compute-capacity limit wasn't just numbers—
her server had entered emergency overdrive cooling.
Her netrunner chair pumped coolant directly into her bloodstream.
No—no—NO. I don't want to die here! I refuse to die here!!
With a piercing shriek, the crystal wall suddenly inverted—
folding into a giant maw lined with Sierpiński triangle fangs.
It snapped shut—
smashing V's avatar into pieces.
CRASH.
The wall vanished.
V's digital body—a mangled, ragdoll-like doll—collapsed.
Before touching Bailing, the body burst—
breaking into tiny data-motes that scattered across her.
Alive.
She was alive.
Nearly hysterical, Bailing immediately initiated a force-disconnect—
fleeing the battlefield.
"AH!"
Song Zhaomei jolted awake—
yanking the thick data cable from the port behind her head.
A medic hurried up with a blanket—
and she shoved them away.
She toppled off the chair, crawling on the floor,
limbs weak, breath erratic.
Finally she curled in a corner, shaking violently.
"Song Zhaomei. What happened?"
President Rosalind Myers, dressed in her stark-white presidential uniform, demanded,
"Did you get what I asked for?"
Zhaomei stayed frozen, head down, trembling like a terrified child.
"Song Zhaomei!" Myers barked twice.
When she gave no answer, Myers softened her tone.
"Zhaomei… do you need medication?"
Zhaomei finally looked up.
"No. I don't need— I mean… I'm fine…"
She was not fine.
Myers doubted she could even form a coherent sentence.
Myers gestured.
Two security personnel rushed forward, held Zhaomei down,
and injected a dose of X-46 Emotional Suppressants.
As the fluid entered her bloodstream,
her shaking slowed—
her eyes steadied—
her breathing calmed.
"Feeling better?" Myers asked.
Expression blank, Zhaomei answered:
"Apologies, Madam President.
X-46 has taken effect.
My physiological and mental indicators are normalized."
Myers didn't care about her well-being.
"What about the data?"
"I retrieved 7%."
"You said you infiltrated the Phantom Dogs' system."
"I did. But I encountered resistance."
"Resistance?"
"A netrunner equal to me."
Zhaomei spoke flatly.
"I was ambushed. I terminated the download.
We fought a full-scale cyberspace battle.
Eventually, I narrowly survived."
"And the enemy?"
"Likely dead. I did not confirm."
"Why didn't you confirm?"
"I was afraid."
Myers' face tightened.
"Afraid?
Song Zhaomei, you have deeply disappointed me.
The NUSA invested everything in you,
and this is how you repay us?"
Zhaomei lowered her head.
"Apologies, Madam President."
"Apologies mean nothing.
Get back online.
Retrieve the entire Operation Cynosure archive."
"Yes."
She responded loudly—
—but could not move.
Her hand trembled violently as she tried to lift the cable.
She lifted it—
dropped it—
lifted it—
dropped it—
Her fear broke past the drug's suppression.
Emotion flooded back in one uncontrollable wave.
Zhaomei's eyes rolled back—
her body collapsed.
Myers watched.
"Doctor."
The med-team scanned her.
"X-46 has failed," they reported.
"Switch to X-47 tomorrow." Myers ordered, turning to leave.
"Forgive me, Madam President," a medic said cautiously,
"Song Zhaomei's body is near its limit.
If this continues, she may die."
Myers paused.
"How long does she have?"
"Half a year at most.
Maybe only a few months."
"I understand.
I'll find her replacement before then."
Myers said, and walked away.
Just another normal day in Bailing's life.
V withdrew her sight from the feed piped through Zhaomei's Kiroshi "Guardian" Optics.
Yes—V was alive.
The one who fought Bailing was only a cyber-double—
a disposable construct that used about sixty percent of her computing power.
The "bronze giant" and "phoenix" were just theatrics.
The real tracking program was hidden within the final "dust" that her avatar dissolved into.
Those tiny data specks looked harmless—
but each could self-replicate, assemble into code,
then combine into a full program.
Like cells forming tissues—
forming organs—
forming a living organism.
No human has invented anything like this yet—
which was why Bailing's ICE didn't react.
As for where V learned that technique…
She briefly recalled a certain enormous jellyfish.
Now wasn't the time to dig deeper.
The important part was—
she'd planted a backdoor in Song Zhaomei.
She could force the little bird offline anytime.
With Bailing disabled,
Myers lost her deadliest cyber weapon.
But V didn't have time to worry about the NUSA now.
Tokyo HQ's armed takeover force was the priority.
As her compute cycles returned, V finished writing Chimera's combat AI.
She disconnected her data cable and leapt down.
Kurt Hansen had just lit his third cigarette.
"Took five more minutes. Trouble?" he asked.
"A hacker slipped into your system.
I kicked her out."
"Fuck—whose side?"
"NUSA."
"That old hag Myers again—
one day I'll sell her to Clouds as a discount joytoy!
Did she come sniffing for weaknesses in my defenses?"
"No.
She was after something called 'Project Little Dipper.'
How much do you know about it?"
"That's Militech's project to bypass Blackwall.
I only know that much.
Oh yeah—heard they captured a rogue AI back then."
V nodded.
"Little Dipper's modern name is Cynosure.
In astronomy, it refers to the north star—
a stable point navigators used as guidance.
Militech named the project that because they saw themselves as
Columbus exploring the old Net beyond Blackwall—
first contact with rogue AIs."
"Explorers?" Hansen scoffed.
"A bunch of brain-dead idiots."
"I agree.
But Myers clearly hasn't given up."
"You wanna expose her?
Everyone hides Blackwall dealings,
but officially they're banned worldwide.
Even NetWatch alone could crush Myers."
"A hacker intrusion isn't enough evidence.
She'd twist it against us.
And right now, I don't need new complications."
"So she gets away with it?"
"Not entirely."
V smirked.
"She doesn't know we only have one piece of evidence.
I'll send her an anonymous message—
smudge the waters.
Make her paranoid.
Stall her."
"Good. Do it."
V had come to Dogtown to reboot Chimera—
but she'd removed Reed and Alex, crippled Song Zhaomei,
and grabbed leverage on Myers.
A huge over-performance.
She handed Chimera's control to Hansen
and set off for Watson Industrial Zone.
The underground factory had already been converted to a surface facility.
Heteromorph prototypes were in nonstop testing and refinement.
Chief Designer Kayo Nakamura greeted her.
As they entered, V saw a familiar figure:
Jackie.
He wore a hardhat, holding blueprints, instructing workers with calm precision.
"He…" V murmured.
"His name is Jackie," Nakamura said warmly.
"Used to be a Haywood gang hand.
Applied here doing manual labor.
But he worked hard, studied on his own—
climbed to senior technician.
Anything he touches—
even the most complex heavy equipment—
is flawless.
Utterly reliable."
V nodded.
Yes.
That's Jackie.
Nakamura continued.
"He's skilled and kind.
Helps everyone.
Even teaches Katsuo basketball—
my son adores him like a big brother.
Sometimes Jackie's words carry more weight than mine.
I wanted to introduce him to a girlfriend…
but turns out he already had someone.
They were supposed to get married next week.
But then…"
She didn't finish.
She didn't need to.
V's expression darkened.
"JACKIE!
Get over here!"
Jackie turned.
His face lit up—then stiffened under V's flames.
He jogged over nervously.
"President V? You called me?"
"Explain.
Why did you cancel your wedding with Misty?"
"I didn't cancel it—just postponed it."
"Why postpone?"
"Uh…"
"Say it!"
Her shout rattled him.
"For the Reserve Forces…"
V's fury surged.
"The Reserve only accepts people with NO family attachments.
Even if you didn't marry Misty—
you still have Mama Welles!"
Jackie shrank.
"…My mom… cut ties with me."
"What?!"
V almost blacked out.
"You're insane—
Mama Welles loves you more than anything!"
"No!
It—it was her idea.
I'm dumb, but not THAT dumb!"
"Mama Welles suggested it?"
V froze.
"Why?"
"Same reason…
So I could join the Reserve."
Everything clicked.
V's anger evaporated—
leaving a heavy, painful pressure in her chest.
"Do you even know what the Reserve IS?
Do you know WHY they only accept people with no families?"
"We know.
Reserve is cannon fodder.
Everyone knows."
"Then why join?!"
"For Night City's honor!" Jackie roared.
"Not Jackie Welles' glory—
but Night City's!
I'm a simple guy.
Don't understand politics.
But Father said—
this war MUST be fought.
No matter the cost.
No matter how many die.
Because only if we fight—
fight AND WIN—
Night City can stand tall.
Only then…
can Night City people become truly human!"
He stepped forward.
"President V…
You're the big boss here.
Tell me straight.
Can we win?"
V was silent for a long time.
Then—
"Jackie…
YOU are the real big man."
"Night City has countless people like you."
"So—
Yes."
"We can win."
The heteromorph testing continued deep into the night.
V coordinated, technicians pushed forward, workers refused to rest.
It had been two days since Yorinobu's press conference.
Kang-Tao's "military expo" tied up most of Arasaka's forces—
but one-fifth of their military had set sail across the Pacific toward Del Coronado Bay.
One-fifth of Arasaka was still far beyond what a single city could resist.
Everyone knew this would be a brutal, bloody fight.
The world watched—
to see whom the era would choose.
V hadn't slept in 50 hours.
Neither had anyone else.
Health monitors screamed—
they muted them.
Future health for a future worth fighting for.
"President V, impact test #212 ready."
"Proceed."
A particle beam fired.
V raised the heteromorph's shield—
the burst of light and heat illuminated the workshop
and perhaps, their future.
Her comm buzzed.
Carter's voice:
"President V—Biotechnica has surrounded the corporate plaza."
Many corps were waiting to muddy the waters.
V wasn't surprised one finally jumped.
"N numbers?"
"1400.
Four hundred are gene-modded supersoldiers."
"Hiding them well…
Urban legend was right—Biotechnica soldiers really are grown in locust farms."
"Arasaka has only 1100 troops on-site.
Even with Public Security added, barely 1500.
And in the city we can't use high-destruction weapons.
Those 400 gene soldiers alone can break our lines.
President V—
please return to HQ.
Only you can stop Biotechnica."
V glanced at the glowing ion beam.
"No.
I can't leave."
"Then—"
"Don't worry.
Call Xu Ling.
Tell her—
it's her turn."
"President Xu?
She's too young—can she handle—"
"Do it.
Young or not—
she is Xu Shiming's granddaughter."
Moments later, a groggy Xu Ling answered:
"…Okay. Leave it to me."
She scratched her belly, shuffled into the bathroom,
pulled down her panties, sat on the toilet,
and while peeing, slipped on a full-face interface helmet.
Yawning:
"1200 vs 1400?
Alright.
Advantage: me."