Europe. ESA (European Space Administration) Annual Conference.
"The investigation into Arasaka's secret construction of a strategic-grade weapon at the Moon's Mare Nubicum Base has concluded. The 264-page report before you fully substantiates this fact. The procedures were lawful, the evidence conclusive, the logic sound, and the document carries full legal effect."
The representatives of major global corporations slotted the datachips into their neural ports. After reading, they all nodded in acknowledgment.
"Therefore, under international law and the security accords, ESA will terminate all cooperation with Arasaka and will not renew the Mare Nubicum Co-Development Agreement. Arasaka must withdraw from the base within twenty working days and compensate for all losses caused by breach of contract. We will now begin the vote."
Cables descended slowly from the ceiling, each tipped with a full-coverage visor.
Representatives donned the visors. The completely physically isolated lines eliminated the possibility of tampering; the sandbox-contained AI tallied the votes accurately, delivering the result within moments.
"Unanimous approval. The act will take effect at 00:00 tonight. Now we proceed to Act No. 89256."
"The Mare Nubicum Project is the future of the world, a project for all humankind. We must pool every mind and every resource. Arasaka's misstep is regrettable. To fill the vacancy, ESA has decided to accept Night City as a new member of the Mare Nubicum Base. Begin voting."
"Unanimous approval. Let us welcome President V."
Amid applause, V straightened her suit and rose from the observation seats. Under the gaze of the entire hall, she walked to the circular table, pulled out her chair, and sat down firmly.
After extraordinary, grueling effort, Night City had finally stepped onto the international stage.
After the meeting, V wrapped up brief pleasantries with the corporate representatives. The moment she turned around, she found Meredith Stout and Joanne Koch waiting for her in the hallway.
"Congratulations on joining the Mare Nubicum Base."
"And congratulations to you two on your promotions—Presidents of Night City branch offices."
"One person rises, everyone around rises with her. We're just basking in your glory."
"Then remember to buy me drinks. One round each."
"Deal."
The three bumped fists lightly.
"That Xu Ling is really that strong?"
"She's insanely strong."
"When we get back to Night City, I'm definitely going to spar with her."
"Don't come crying to me when she makes you weep."
"V, I've already told Biotechnica to fully cooperate with Night City's medical relief efforts."
"Thanks, Koch."
"No big deal. Honestly, I wish I could fly back to Night City right now. Hearing reports just doesn't cut it."
"No can do. We still have days of meetings left."
"Exactly. Europe is your turf, Koch—you better show V and me around properly. I heard the girls here are very enthusiastic. I'm gonna… make a thorough evaluation."
"Fuck off, you damn lecher!"
"Don't worry, V—we'll help you keep it secret from Sasha."
"Fuck— I never said I was going!"
The three walked off, chatting and laughing.
Behind them, President Myers of the New United States glared from the corner, her gaze dripping with venom.
Night City had defeated Arasaka, joined the Mare Nubicum Base, ascended to the global stage—and because of V's terrifying personal power, Night City now wielded more influence than the NUSA itself.
Myers could not accept it.
Night City was just a state that had seceded from the NUSA—a shameful traitor.
How dare it?
How dare V?
Everything had happened too fast. In less than a year, a nameless merc had become a storm-bringer shaking the world.
Why had things turned out this way? How had V grown so strong? What secret did she carry? The public speculated endlessly; high-ranking corporate figures had their own theories.
Myers was no exception. After reviewing V's rise dozens of times and repeatedly analyzing it, she reached her own conclusion:
V must have obtained the results of Project Little Dipper by chance.
She must have grown strong under the assistance of a runaway AI.
And all of that…
should have been mine.
Jealousy flickered beneath Myers' hatred.
Take it back.
She had to take it back.
Project Little Dipper was the crystallization of American ingenuity. Only the President of the United States deserved to wield it. With V's level of power, she could unify America—she could make America great again.
"Just wait, V. Whatever you took from me… I'll take it back with my own hands."
Myers whispered into the shadows and faded from sight.
On the other side, after some sightseeing in Europe with her friends, V returned to the hotel as night fell.
The moment she opened the door, she saw Arasaka Michiko—dressed in full cat-ear JK cosplay—playing a game on the holo-television.
As V's nominal superior, the princess of Night City had accompanied her to the conference.
Of course, most of the time she was just serving as a mascot.
Hearing the door, Michiko paused the game and turned.
"Did you eat?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want a bath? I'll run the water."
"Please. The bathroom only has a shower."
Michiko flushed red, her cat ears drooping downward.
V sighed. She took off her jacket as she said, "Lady Michiko, I know what you're thinking. You don't need to grovel to me. Arasaka… Arasaka Saburo is dead. I'm not the type who kills indiscriminately. As long as the rest of the Arasaka family doesn't cause trouble, I won't go after them."
"Of course. I've warned them already. They're all incompetent cowards—they wouldn't dare."
Michiko stepped forward and began helping V remove her tie. V meant to stop her, but the trembling of Michiko's fingers made her pause… and let her continue.
The truth was, Michiko had never wronged her. In fact, the reason she had risen to this point at all was due in part to Michiko's early support.
And back then, before she'd found a way to reclaim her body, a single order from Michiko could have had Kenichi Saburo turn her into a pincushion.
Speaking of her body… she'd survived two injections of nano-gene restorative without issue. Was it pure luck, or had it left some hidden danger? She'd have Koch examine her thoroughly later.
While V's thoughts drifted, Michiko clumsily removed her tie and tried to hang it in the wardrobe.
V rolled her eyes, snatched the tie, and threw it into the washing unit.
Michiko's cheeks grew even redder beneath her cat-ears.
V headed into the shower.
"Need help scrubbing your back?" Michiko asked quickly.
"No!"
Letting the hot water wash over her, V couldn't help a satisfied moan.
When she came out wrapped in a towel, she didn't bother with pajamas—she dove straight into bed and tossed the towel aside.
"Sleep. Tomorrow's another busy day. Europeans really love their fucking meetings."
"Mm."
Michiko changed out of her cosplay into pajamas, washed up, and settled into her own bed.
Not the same bed, of course.
The hotel used standard twin rooms. It wasn't targeting V; Europe simply insisted on frugality and environmentalism. Every major conference used these bare-bones accommodations, and the media would trumpet this as proof that "Europe is the light of humanity."
The public bought it.
The truth was that European elites were no different from elites anywhere else; for all their talk of education, their desires were identical to tribal chieftains in African backwaters. Behind closed doors, they were decadent as hell.
Human nature was simple and not simple; shared virtues and flaws, yet always carving themselves into castes—
Skin color, faith, region, ethnicity, nation.
Though unity made them stronger, they insisted on building walls and tearing each other apart.
It was laughable.
V laughed softly.
At herself.
Because by saying "they" again and again, she sounded like she no longer considered herself human.
Forget it. Sleep. There was another meeting tomorrow.
V let go of her thoughts.
But Michiko spoke again.
"Aunt Hanako told me everything."
V's eyes opened. "Let's hear it."
"My uncle, Arasaka Yorinobu, only rose to leadership because Aunt Hanako supported him. The company was facing enormous internal and external pressure. Aunt Hanako only wanted to end Arasaka's internal chaos quickly."
"Arasaka Hanako even persuaded you, didn't she?"
"Yes. To prevent civil war, I withdrew from the succession. Aunt Hanako believed Uncle Yorinobu would revive Arasaka—or at least stop its decline. She never imagined that he would sabotage the company on purpose."
"That's no surprise. Remember what we discussed? Yorinobu had always wanted to destroy the company."
"I remember. But I thought once he tasted real power, once he sat in the high seat himself, he would change his mind."
V sighed. "Unfortunately, he didn't. He clung to his ideals. The fall of the Steel Dragon didn't change him. Power didn't change him. Strictly speaking, he was a competent fighter. But he overvalued external strength and neglected himself entirely. Born with a silver spoon, Yorinobu had too many resources at his disposal. He never developed the mindset for self-improvement. And once those resources were gone, he truly had nothing. That would drive anyone mad."
"Exactly. He wanted the corporation to self-destruct—but other corporations could mobilize far more than he could. When his innate advantages vanished, Uncle Yorinobu broke. He crushed every dissenting voice, even confined Aunt Hanako, and sent me to Kang-Tao as a scapegoat. With Arasaka nearing total ruin, Aunt Hanako had no choice but to eliminate him."
"So Hanako helped Saburo seize Yorinobu's body?"
"Yes. Tokyo is Aunt Hanako's home ground. Luring Uncle Yorinobu into a trap was trivial. Once the Relic chip entered his skull, Grandfather Saburo awoke. Aunt Hanako believed his decades of connections would let him solve the crisis diplomatically. She never expected his stance to be absolute—he would rather wage war on Night City and intimidate the world through force than bow his head."
V frowned. "I've been meaning to say this. I've watched Saburo's interviews and profiles. His personality didn't seem that impulsive. His decision to invade Night City abandoned all his usual caution and wisdom. He acted like a gambler with nothing left."
"It's simple. Grandfather's digital backup was created eight years ago. The revived Saburo is the Saburo of eight years past. The difference is only eight years, but their mindsets are completely different."
"Eight years ago… 2069. When the new NUSA President launched her reunification war, the Free States lost battle after battle. When President Myers aimed to strike Night City, a councilor secretly warned Arasaka. Grandfather saw a chance to re-enter North America. He sent the supercarrier Kujira to Night City. The NUSA was forced to retreat. The reunification war was halted. Arasaka returned to the peak of Night City.
And you ask: would Saburo—fresh off such a victory—choose compromise?"
"Of course not."
"That was the situation. An unyielding Saburo met an equally unyielding you—that was fate."
V felt the weight of it.
Which Arasaka Saburo was stronger? The Saburo of eight years ago, or the one from 2077?
She didn't know.
But she did know this:
If Saburo had pressured Night City through diplomacy, she wouldn't have had many counters.
A network built over 158 years—terrifying indeed.
Unfortunately for him, Saburo chose war.
And war was V's home turf.
So V won.
And Arasaka Saburo died.
Fate? Timing?
V pondered deeply—
Until a soft body slipped into her bed from behind and wrapped its arms around her.
"Lady Michiko?!"
V tensed—until she heard Michiko's trembling voice, thick with tears.
"V… Aunt Hanako committed suicide."
"What?!"
"She destroyed all digital backups of the Arasaka family—mine, hers, Grandfather's, everyone's. Then she shot herself."
V froze. Then understanding dawned.
"Because none of them were the real ones… right?"
"Exactly. They weren't real. The Arasaka family spent staggering manpower and resources thinking we'd achieved immortality, but it was all just a cyber-mirage. A digital backup is just a backup—an AI modeled after a living person. V… my father is dead. My mother is dead. My uncle is dead. My grandfather is dead. My aunt is dead. Even Kenichi Saburo, who protected me, is dead. Everyone in my bloodline is gone.
I'm alone.
Maybe I should die too… or maybe I already died, and I'm just an AI pretending to be real…"
V felt awkward—half the people Michiko mentioned were killed by her. Some more than once.
Feeling guilty, she turned around, gripped Michiko's shoulders, and said earnestly:
"Lady Michiko… I don't know how to comfort you. But I can say this: I acknowledge you. Whether you're human or AI, I acknowledge you."
Tears of relief streamed down Michiko's face. In this moment of total isolation, V's recognition meant everything.
She buried her face in V's chest, repeating "thank you" over and over, making V uncomfortable.
Given that Michiko's isolation was her doing… V wondered if Michiko had developed Stockholm syndrome.
Then again… Japanese people were often like this. V let it slide.
"Sleep."
V stroked her hair. "When you wake up, things will be better."
"Mm."
The next morning.
V took it back—
It absolutely did not get better.
It got much, much worse.
Because Michiko had never returned to her own bed.
Which meant…
They had gone at it all night.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!"
V tiptoed around the room like a burglar, getting dressed and escaping the room.
She had just steadied her breathing when a hand slapped her shoulder.
"Hey, V. Up early, huh? Wanna grab a drink before the meetings?"
Meredith Stout.
V almost jumped out of her skin.
"No. Drinking in the morning is degenerate as hell. Militech didn't send you here to party—you should be working!"
"…???"
The blonde, slick-backed corporate femme stared at V, baffled.
Morning drinking was degenerate?
Who was the one who treated tequila like morning tea?
Meredith eyed V up and down.
V forced calm. "What are you staring at?"
"You're acting weird."
"Weird how?"
"Too virtuous. Like a saint. Like someone who just jerked off and hit philosopher mode."
V twitched. Hard.
Just as she was about to break character, Joanne Koch appeared, yawning.
"Hey, Koch!" V sounded like she had been rescued. "Let's go to the conference room. Leave Stout to her drinking."
"Morning drinking isn't good for your health," Koch said casually. Then asked, "Where's Lady Michiko? She not up yet?"
"Uh…" V hesitated. "She's… not feeling well."
"Need me to check on her?"
"No. She said she just needed rest."
"All right. If she needs anything, let me know."
"Thanks, Koch."
The three walked together.
V glared at Meredith. "Didn't you say you were going drinking?"
Meredith shrugged. "Drinking alone is pathetic. I'll wait till after the meeting. Remember that little wildcat we saw yesterday? I'm totally bagging her tonight."
"Bullshit. She made it very clear you aren't her type. Right, Koch?"
Koch turned her head—not to answer, but to ask V:
"You slept with Arasaka Michiko?"
"Cough—cough—cough!"
Koch nodded. "So you did."
"I didn't!" V protested loudly.
Meredith nodded too. "Sounds like you did. More than once."
"Fuck both of you!"
"Don't worry," Meredith said brightly, giving a thumbs-up. "We'll help you hide it from Sasha."
"What—no, listen—"
"You don't want it hidden?"
"… No. Hide it. Please. Thank you."
Today's meeting topic: the future of humanity.
According to AI projections, as Earth's population continued to increase, if humanity failed to leave the solar system within 150 years, environmental destruction and resource exhaustion would lead to extinction.
The Mare Nubicum Base on the Moon was built for this purpose—a 715-kilometer integrated scientific facility on the lunar nearside, originally composed of research centers, data matrices, and ecological farms, meant solely to find a viable path for space colonization.
But as more capital flooded in, the base spiraled out of control. Research facilities shrank; casinos, hotels, clinics, and red-light districts in space grew rapidly. By around 2070, the base had become a den of decadence for the rich and another tool to squeeze the poor.
The ESA hated this, and every year they begged the corporations to return to their original intent. But profit ruled all; no one listened.
The speaker droned on. V listened and quickly understood the core issue:
technology sharing.
Humanity already had the tech for colonizing the inner solar system—High Knight Group's Mars colonies proved that.
The real bottleneck was:
building a self-sustaining ecological system inside a colony vessel.
A generation-ship journey was centuries long. How do you secure food, water, waste cycling, air purification?
Reality wasn't braindance fantasy—there was no "sleep for two hundred years at the press of a button."
Thus, the last missing piece of interstellar colonization was:
a closed-loop ecological system that could sustain hundreds of years.
Space agriculture.
Air & water recycling.
Waste regeneration.
Pollutant mitigation.
Eco-material production.
These—not engines or materials—were the real obstacles.
Such technologies did exist, but in primitive forms. Fine for Earth, useless for multi-century flight.
Why not improve them?
Because there was no profit.
In hyper-capitalized 2077, no one would touch low-return, high-cost projects like these. Everyone assumed technology would advance naturally over time. But with the 150-year deadline looming, panic had set in. Corporations invested more, breakthroughs appeared—but none were transformative.
Tech sharing was proposed, but became a deadlock:
We give you the tech. You launch first and promise to take us with you… but what if you don't?
So it all devolved again. Everyone stalled. Everyone passed the problem to their descendants.
After V grasped all this, she made her move.
When the speaker finished, V stood up.
"How about letting Night City take charge of developing the ecological systems? What do you all think?"