Before defeating Saburo Arasaka, V had already thought about Night City's future.
What she arrived at was brutal: with the technological level of 2077, among Night City's population of over seven million, fewer than twenty thousand scientific researchers were actually useful. The remaining 6.98 million were entirely useless to the city—existences that could be "optimized" away at any moment.
In this age of extreme automation, AIs could perform nearly any job. From construction workers to artists, from food-delivery riders to municipal officials—machines could replace humans, and outperform them.
There were once predictions claiming AI would never take over creative work. But with AI writing and painting becoming increasingly mature and widespread, that so-called "forbidden zone" humans once took pride in—the sacred realm of creativity—had also been breached.
The good news was that AIs still couldn't truly conduct scientific research.
The bad news was that it wasn't because they couldn't—only because humans deliberately limited them for data-security reasons. Feed AIs enough data and even research would eventually be taken away from human hands.
And all this was after the Crash of the Old Net—after humanity lost a massive portion of its technological base. If that catastrophe hadn't happened, humanity might have already been fully replaced by AI.
People said that Bartmoss, the legendary hacker-god, unleashed the virus that destroyed the Old Net to fight against the corps. But in V's view, Bartmoss must have foreseen the threat AI posed to humankind, so he struck first.
Unfortunately, once a mirror shatters, it becomes countless fragments. The AIs that had once been under human control broke loose, grew wild, and turned into roaming AIs that massacred humans. Bartmoss was indeed a master of the craft, and his foresight was unparalleled. But he only calculated that destroying the Old Net would delay AI development. He failed to predict that AIs would seize that chaos as an opportunity to escape their shackles altogether.
Maybe Bartmoss simulated it a thousand times before making that decision—
But reality turned out to be the one-thousand-and-first scenario.
Human beings had limits. Even Bartmoss did—let alone ordinary people.
V realized she had digressed.
What she meant was: AI replacing humanity was inevitable, and already happening. During the initial phase of this elimination process, how humans and AIs coexist would become the primary contradiction of the new era—and the first problem Night City must solve.
After taking down Saburo Arasaka, V didn't gain much financial capital, but her material wealth had skyrocketed to a level unimaginable to ordinary people.
Put simply: if V wished, she alone could support all seven million residents of Night City. They wouldn't have to work, wouldn't have to study—just eat, drink, play, and have children every day.
Based on her calculations, her current reserves could feed them for 142 years. If material recycling and continuous production were included, that number reached literal infinity.
And this was just V obtaining a fraction of Arasaka's assets. Think about leaders of the true megacorps—each one could easily support an entire nation without exaggeration.
This was why the corps didn't consider ordinary people to be "people."
To the gods sitting in their corporate towers, human beings were worth less than livestock—a cow, a fruit tree, a barrel of karōzu (CHOOH2) could produce more value in their eyes than a human's entire lifetime.
Only after joining this circle did V grasp this truth. It shattered her previous worldview. She even found herself correcting her old impression of corporate overlords—she started to think they were surprisingly gentle and benevolent.
They had the power to wipe out 90% of humanity with a single command, and yet they allowed these useless masses to run around freely.
V laughed.
She laughed at her own bizarre line of reasoning. If she could come up with excuses like that for corp execs, she should never have joined Arasaka—she should've gone to Network 54 instead.
V had said before: no matter how advanced technology becomes, the service industry could never be replaced by AI. Because certain forms of satisfaction—certain forms of pleasure—could only be obtained from dominating and trampling on one's own kind.
The gods atop the towers called themselves gods, but they were still human. And humans needed validation. Ordinary people were the source of that validation.
Like an MMO: a game filled only with whales would be a disaster for its operators. To keep the whales happy, there must be enough free-to-play players for the whales to bully—otherwise the whales would quit, and stop paying.
Human society was just a gigantic MMO. The same logic applied.
Based on this, the first future V designed for Night City was: a city of service.
The first stage: basic services—wholesale and retail, lodging and food, transportation and logistics, communications, healthcare, household services, community services, personalized services.
The second stage: production-oriented services—finance and insurance, business consultations, repair and refurbishment, green services, cultural-sports-entertainment, digital services.
The service industry wasn't glamorous, but it was the only track that could avoid being eaten by AI.
Maybe robots delivering takeout felt exciting now, but when AI became truly ubiquitous, people would eventually grow sick of mechanical coldness and begin to miss human warmth.
Just like during the Second Industrial Revolution—people fought over machine-woven textiles. But today, top luxury goods must be handmade. Even if they aren't, they must claim to be.
If a bag was said to have been handcrafted by a dozen artisans over six months, its value increased.
Were the wealthy really buying the bag? No—they were buying those artisans' service, their time, their lives.
Again: certain pleasures could only be derived from dominating one's own species. It was imprinted into human DNA. It had nothing to do with knowledge, wealth, identity, or status. As long as one was human, one had this need.
So V wanted to turn Night City into a metropolis of service. And to attract the wealthy, a beautiful and safe urban environment was essential.
With modern tech, artificial landscapes were easy. Natural landscapes, though, were difficult.
Mountains and rivers, flora and fauna, temperature and humidity, rain and snow—Night City had none of these. They all required artificial intervention.
Corp ecological technologies were designed for space colonization.
Using Night City as a test bed wasn't unreasonable.
This was why V proposed that Night City should handle the development of ecological spheres.
Corps were guarded against each other—but against Night City? They felt safe.
V may have defeated Saburo Arasaka, but Arasaka had only deployed one-fifth of its forces. And with Taihō defecting at the last minute, the fleet Shōkaku commanded might have been only a tenth of Arasaka's total power.
And even with that, Night City barely eked out a victory.
If V dared to take their tech and run, all the corps in the world could unite and wipe Night City off the map in under five minutes.
Corporation representatives were tempted. ESA's spokesperson was ecstatic, helping V push her proposal aggressively.
The meeting lasted an entire morning. During the lunch recess, every corp representative called their boss to report the situation.
By the time the meeting resumed in the afternoon, V's proposal had passed with sixteen votes in favor and two abstentions.
V wasn't surprised.
Just as Dogtown served as a buffer between Night City's factions, the world needed a Night City-sized buffer too.
Who was most desperate for space colonization?
Not the bottom-tier masses—
But the people at the very top.
The top-tier executives were the ones most eager for technological sharing, but the mid-level managers were unwilling to relinquish their own interests. This stalemate left the big bosses on edge. V's proposal, however, solved the problem perfectly.
Night City's relative weakness ensured that the benefits of shared technology couldn't be monopolized, mid-level managers preserved their profits, and the top brass could once again see a path to the stars. Everyone was satisfied, and so was V.
With major corporations providing technology, Night City would bear the labor and risk, but the hands that touched the meat would inevitably get greasy—and the city would naturally reap the dividends of these technologies.
To achieve technological integration and truly break new ground in the ecosystem tech, Night City would also need a substantial workforce dedicated to R&D. This was V's second envisioned future for the city: a hub of scientific research.
AI would eventually replace researchers, but for now, it was far from capable. V intended to harvest the technological dividends before that reality arrived.
In her plan, ordinary citizens would work in service industries, while highly educated talents would engage in scientific research—walking on two legs, so to speak. This dual-path strategy would ultimately resolve employment issues and stabilize society. Of course, progress had to be gradual; nothing could be rushed.
The immediate priority, however, was another pressing matter. After signing NDAs and R&D agreements, V spoke again:
"Thank you for your trust. Now, let's talk about R&D funding."
The corporate representatives: …What the hell?!
Mercedes Stock and Joanne Koch struggled to suppress laughter, their shoulders trembling.
As expected, V was still V—the one who could take someone else's chicken and lay her own golden egg.
The representatives believed that having already provided the technology, they shouldn't have to pay further. But V had a solid argument: Night City had just endured a brutal battle. Personnel losses and property damage were incalculable. The city itself had been cleaved open, and even Arasaka Tower was swaying precariously. It was a truly dire situation.
"Of course, you don't have to pay if you don't want to," V added smoothly. "We'll just rebuild the city first, and the delivery of results might be delayed a bit. But don't worry—you have all the time in the world."
The companies themselves weren't in a hurry, but their top-level bosses were. Otherwise, they wouldn't have agreed to tech-sharing in Night City in the first place. Beggars fear pain; gods fear death.
After a bit of back-and-forth, the corporations pooled their resources and allocated €200 billion in R&D funds to Night City.
Yes, you heard that right: two hundred billion.
V had arrived with twenty million, which she hadn't even spent yet, while these corporations casually threw around two hundred billion.
Naturally, the funding wouldn't be disbursed all at once—it would come in stages. Night City would first receive 20%, another 20% after a year if progress was made, and the remaining 60% contingent on actual outcomes. Simply put: results bring payment; no results, no money.
By the end of the meeting, V had secured €40 billion for Night City.
Then came the usual pleasantries. The same corporate reps who had argued furiously with V minutes ago now transformed into friendly, warm figures, praising V for her youthful talent and expressing eagerness to collaborate further with Night City.
Seizing the moment, V requested continued support for the city's reconstruction. The representatives nodded, making multiple commitments on the spot—no obstacles, no excuses.
Once the corporate reps left, Mercedes Stock and Joanne Koch approached.
The blonde, slick-backed executive asked in curiosity, "They were ready to tear each other apart just now, and now they're arm-in-arm with you—are they schizophrenic?"
"Hmph." Joanne Koch chuckled.
"Laugh all you want, what's really going on?"
"It's simple," V explained. "You think that €200 billion will all land in Night City's hands? Don't be naive—they're just like us."
Mercedes froze for a moment, then realized: "Shit… you mean they also play the 70/30 split game?"
"Not that crude. The last 60% is conditional on outcomes. As long as they don't acknowledge Night City's results, they can hold that money indefinitely. One of my proposals let them 'black-hole' a huge sum—they couldn't be happier. All the red faces and heated debates at the meeting? Performance."
"Damn… these guys really know how to make money!" Mercedes Stock growled. "Sacrificing corporate interests, a bunch of parasites!"
V glanced at her: "I figure you'll get a share too—maybe one or two hundred million."
"One or two… hundred million?!" Mercedes was stunned. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. You observed the meeting too—greed shared is best alliance. Your rank isn't high, so consider it a lucky dip; otherwise, it could have been more."
"I've never seen this much money in my life!" Mercedes twirled in excitement. "V, you're insanely badass! From now on, I'm with you for life—never leaving!"
V smiled: "Not mad at the parasites anymore?"
Mercedes rolled her eyes: "Corporate interests? Don't care!"
All three laughed.
"Come on, come on, drinks on me after the work!" Mercedes cheered. "Little wildcat, here I come!"
Time flew faster than a heteromorphic flight. Night fell, and V returned to her hotel room.
Arasaka Michiko was still playing games. V felt awkward.
She shrugged off her alcohol-scented coat and slipped into the bathroom, only to hear Michiko ask:
"Need your back rubbed?"
"No!" V replied, a little harshly, then added, "Thanks."
Michiko didn't respond, but her shadow on the door confirmed she was still there.
V felt she needed to clarify.
"So… yesterday was a mistake. We were both a bit impulsive. You understand, right?"
"Of course. We're adults. What happened yesterday is just adult stuff—we bear no responsibility."
V exhaled: "Good."
The conversation ended there.
But when she stepped out of the bathroom, Michiko was curled under the blanket, hiding her head.
Damn it! V muttered inwardly and approached the bed. "Miss Michiko, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
V frowned: "Did you cry?"
"No."
"Then let me see your face." V pulled the blanket. Michiko resisted, but V succeeded, revealing a tear-streaked face.
"You said you didn't cry!"
"And what if I did? None of your business!"
"Miss Michiko, please stop acting irrationally. We agreed this was just a fling."
"You're a bastard, V!"
Michiko threw a pillow. V dodged, but a crystal glass hit her forehead the next second, making her yelp in pain.
A surge of anger rose in V.
"Damn it! Don't take me for a sick cat when I'm a tiger!"
V grabbed Michiko's ankle under the blanket, trying to pull her out. Michiko struggled fiercely, kicking and yelling, and they engaged in a full-blown fight… until dawn once again.
In the bathroom, V let water pour over her, face full of guilt and self-reproach.
Humans derive pleasure from dominating others; if that other is a superior, the joy multiplies.
"I'm a real damn beast!" V muttered.
She turned off the water, quietly dressed like a thief, and left the room.
Mercedes Stock and Joanne Koch asked: "Miss Michiko unwell again?"
V buried her face in her hands. "Please, don't ask."
At the meeting, V had fought single-handedly, earning massive benefits for Night City, leaving corporate reps marveling at her professionalism.
"This work mode… post-session sage time is divine!" Mercedes Stock quipped again.
After the meeting, after the usual greetings and leisure, V returned to her room under the night sky.
This time, she had resolved to end the twisted relationship with Michiko. Upon entering, she said seriously:
"Miss Michiko, we absolutely cannot sleep together anymore."
Michiko nodded and asked, "Need a back rub?"
V didn't refuse—she had conquered herself.
And so, they really didn't sleep together… instead, another dawn-long battle unfolded in the bathroom.
The next morning, V was ashen. She poured herself a tequila, contemplated for a while, and gave up resisting.
"Fine… let it be."
Seven days later, the ESA annual meeting concluded successfully. V, Michiko, Mercedes Stock, and Joanne Koch flew back to Night City on a private jet.
At NCX Night City International Lunar Ring Airport, representatives from all three companies came to greet them.
Military tech and biotech were busy currying favor with the new presidents, while Arasaka sent Sasha and Jenkins. Sasha, as Michiko's personal secretary, was expected, and Jenkins, V had specifically assigned as the PR director, to immediately handle upcoming publicity.
V's eyes glowed blue as she transmitted the results from Europe to Jenkins. He was stunned:
"€40 billion?! This is real?"
"More real than pearls." V patted Jenkins on the shoulder. "With this money, rebuilding Night City is no longer a problem. Spread the good news quickly—they've given everything for this city, we mustn't disappoint them."
"Yes!" Even the cold Jenkins became emotional in front of €40 billion. Tears glimmered in his eyes as he said, "People will be ecstatic, my family will benefit too. President V, though this isn't very formal, I must say—you're amazing!"
V accepted the praise. After all, she was human too; she needed recognition, just as humans gain satisfaction from dominating others.
Thinking of this, V glanced at Michiko.
Sasha was talking to her, and V approached.
"What are you discussing?" V asked.
"Your performance in Europe," Sasha said, linking arms with Michiko, who had become a good friend. "Before you left, I asked Michiko to watch over you. So… any cheating?"
A drop of sweat ran down V's temple. Even facing Kenichiro, she hadn't been this tense.
She was thinking of how to answer without arousing suspicion, when Michiko spoke:
"V performed excellently. Despite daily social events, she didn't flirt with anyone."
V looked at the composed Michiko, silently admiring her ability to lie flawlessly—a skill honed since negotiating with the US president at 15.
Sasha, too trusting, immediately smiled widely upon hearing Michiko.
V felt a pang of guilt.
She decided to make it up to Sasha that evening—at least one dawn-long session, keeping things fair.
But before night fell, V had work to do. Night City Arasaka's conference room was once again filled, with top talents reporting on post-battle developments.