“I think we can wrap this assignment up early.” The comment came from one of the surveillance operatives as he leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on the feed displayed through his optics.
V glanced sideways at his teammate.
“What?
Getting bored already?” “No, not bored.
Just realistic.” The operative shrugged.
“Commander Victor’s schedule is so predictable it’s almost painful.
We already know everything.” V remained silent, allowing him to continue.
The operative pulled up several days’ worth of surveillance records.
“Every morning he wakes up at the same time.
Then he heads straight to Arasaka Tower.
He spends the day handling Special Operations Department business, goes through combat training, practices deep-dive netrunning procedures, spends time in research and development, then goes home.” He sighed heavily.
“The guy doesn’t even visit bars.” “No clubs.” “No gambling dens.” “No shady backroom meetings.” “No secret girlfriends.” “Nothing.” V couldn’t really argue.
The surveillance reports told exactly the same story.
Victor spent almost all his time inside Arasaka facilities.
For a counterintelligence investigation, that was frustratingly boring.
There was almost nothing suspicious to discover.
Breaking into his apartment wasn’t an option either.
Their superiors wanted a discreet evaluation, not an internal scandal.
When the operative finished speaking, V rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Hmm.” He stared at the data for several moments.
“Maybe you’re right.” After all, today was supposed to be the final day of observation anyway.
Victor’s behavior hadn’t changed since his promotion.
If anything, he seemed even more disciplined than before.
“Logically speaking,” V muttered, “a newly promoted department head should have less free time, not more.” “Maybe he’s just one of those people who can’t sit still.” “Or maybe he’s trying to impress upper management.” That suggestion immediately earned a dismissive wave from V.
“Impress them?” He snorted.
“With the way Arasaka’s executives are treating him, what exactly does he need to prove?” That much was obvious.
Anyone paying attention could see how highly the corporation valued Victor.
The speed of his promotion alone made that clear.
No.
If V had to guess, Victor simply didn’t know how to slow down.
Or perhaps he genuinely enjoyed what he was doing.
The truth was actually quite simple.
Victor wasn’t forcing himself to work.
In fact, he barely considered most of these activities work at all.
The office duties were mostly routine management.
Combat training was something he enjoyed.
Deep-diving improved his abilities.
Research and development advanced his personal goals.
To Victor, these weren’t obligations.
They were investments.
Night City currently offered very few challenges worthy of his full attention.
As a result, keeping himself busy was simply the most efficient use of his time.
The responsibilities of the Special Field Operations Department weren’t nearly as overwhelming as outsiders imagined.
Most people only heard the shortened name—Special Operations Department.
The reality was far more complicated.
The division specialized in three major categories.
Security services.
Suppression operations.
And elimination missions.
Security services involved protecting high-value clients willing to pay enormous amounts of money for Arasaka’s best protection packages.
Suppression operations dealt with internal threats.
Riots.
Corporate unrest.
Worker revolts.
Anything that threatened Arasaka’s interests.
The third category was the simplest.
Eliminate the problem.
Permanently.
As the head of the department, Victor possessed enormous authority.
The Security Division already controlled one of the largest armed forces in Night City.
Combat drones.
Exoskeleton units.
Heavy mechs.
Armored vehicles.
Aircraft.
Naval assets.
Thousands of trained personnel.
And when necessary, Victor could mobilize substantial portions of those forces.
His primary responsibility was straightforward.
Protect Arasaka’s interests.
At any cost.
— Buzz.
Buzz.
A communication request suddenly appeared inside Victor’s optics.
He accepted immediately.
A nervous-looking man appeared on the holographic display.
Victor recognized him instantly.
“Koch.” The researcher visibly swallowed.
“Mr.
Victor.” “You finally made your decision?” The man’s expression tightened.
“Yes.” For weeks he had hesitated.
For weeks he had delayed.
But apparently he had finally chosen a side.
Victor leaned back comfortably.
“So.” “How do you want to proceed?” Koch looked around nervously before answering.
“I don’t know how these things are usually handled.” Victor couldn’t help smiling.
The man was clearly terrified.
“Twisty Street.” “It’ll be easier to exchange the materials there.” “I understand.” Koch nodded rapidly.
“The sooner, the better.” The call disconnected.
Victor stared at the empty display for several seconds.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Koch was nothing more than a low-level Militech researcher.
Under normal circumstances, someone like him shouldn’t even be capable of contacting a senior Arasaka executive.
Yet here they were.
The reason was simple.
By pure accident, Koch had obtained internal Militech research documents involving advanced neural cyberware development.
The information had enormous value.
For Arasaka.
For Victor’s own cyberware research projects.
And for corporate warfare in general.
The moment the information surfaced, Arasaka became interested.
Very interested.
The assignment had originally been handed to Victor before his promotion.
At the time, Koch couldn’t decide whether betraying Militech was worth the risk.
Now he finally had his answer.
Money.
Fear.
Ambition.
Desperation.
One of them had won.
Or perhaps all four.
What Victor found strange was how somebody so insignificant had gained access to information of that level.
Research documents involving advanced neural implants weren’t exactly left lying around on office desks.
Still.
That wasn’t his concern.
His responsibility was collection.
Verification would be handled by Intelligence.
Analysis would be handled by Counterintelligence.
His job was simply getting the package.
— “Canris.” A communication line opened instantly.
“Yes, boss?” “Where’s Brandt?” A brief pause followed.
Then Canris laughed.
“You forgot?” “He took leave today.” “Oh.” Victor remembered.
“Right.” “Never mind.” He stood up from his desk.
“Looks like it’ll just be the two of us.” Canris sounded interested immediately.
“Field operation?” “Something like that.” Victor grabbed his jacket.
“Meet me in the parking garage.” “We’re taking a normal vehicle.” “No AV.” “No corporate transports.” “I don’t want attention.” “Understood.” The connection ended.
— Several minutes later.
Canris stood alone inside Arasaka Tower’s vehicle storage area.
Rows of expensive vehicles surrounded him.
Corporate transports.
Executive sedans.
Security vehicles.
Armored transports.
Canris folded his arms while examining them.
The boss wanted something low-profile.
That ruled out most of the fleet immediately.
Anything displaying Arasaka branding was unacceptable.
Eventually his eyes settled on a sleek black sedan.
A smile appeared.
“There you are.” The Chevrolet Thrax 388 Jefferson.
Popular among corporate middle management.
Expensive.
Comfortable.
Fast.
Yet understated enough to blend into Night City’s traffic.
More importantly— It belonged to Victor personally.
That meant additional security modifications.
Additional armor.
Additional protection.
In Night City, that mattered.
Because owning a luxury car didn’t necessarily mean you were rich.
Sometimes it simply meant you had stolen one.
— A few minutes later Victor arrived.
He glanced at the vehicle.
Then nodded.
“Good choice.” Canris grinned proudly.
“I know.” Victor walked around the car once.
Personally, he would have preferred a lower-end Villefort model for maximum anonymity.
Unfortunately, most of those belonged to Arasaka’s corporate fleet.
The Jefferson was a better option.
His customized Alvarado would have attracted even more attention.
“Let’s move.” — The black sedan exited Arasaka Tower.
Several blocks away, V nearly choked on his drink.
“What now?” One of his operatives looked confused.
V immediately stood.
“What do you mean what now?” “We follow them.” The operative blinked.
“In what?” “Use your own damn cars.” “…So we’re not getting corporate transportation?” V rolled his eyes.
“You think you’re important enough for that?” The man looked genuinely offended.
“I’m being insulted.” “Get moving before we lose them.” Within moments, multiple vehicles merged into traffic behind Victor’s sedan.
The surveillance operation continued.
— Inside the Jefferson, Canris casually monitored the mirrors.
A grin appeared on his face.
“We’ve got a tail.” “I know.” Victor didn’t even bother looking.
“The Counterintelligence team.” “They’re evaluating me after the promotion.” “They’ll disappear in a few days.” Canris chuckled.
“Extra bodyguards.” “Pretty much.” Victor shrugged.
There were worse things than having Arasaka agents secretly protecting you.
A moment later Canris changed the subject.
“So.” “Do you think Koch is actually going through with it?” Victor looked out the window.
Night City’s neon lights reflected across the glass.
“Good question.” The city rushed past them.
Towering skyscrapers.
Crowded streets.
Countless lives.
Countless secrets.
And somewhere ahead was a Militech researcher about to make the biggest mistake—or the smartest decision—of his life.
“If he intends to betray Militech,” Victor said calmly, “we’ll know soon enough.” “And if he’s trying to trick us?” A dangerous smile slowly appeared on Victor’s face.
“Then he’ll learn exactly why Arasaka sent me personally.” Canris immediately laughed.
His hand slipped into his jacket and produced a folded piece of paper.
Victor recognized it instantly.
The infamous “letter of humility” Canris jokingly carried around whenever violence seemed likely.
“Boss, I brought it just in case.” Victor sighed.
“Put that thing away.” “What if we crash?” “Then we’ll sue Chevrolet.” Canris laughed even harder.
“Fair point.” Victor shook his head and returned his attention to the passing cityscape.
Behind them, Counterintelligence agents followed at a safe distance.
Ahead of them waited a frightened researcher carrying dangerous secrets.
And somewhere in the shadows of Night City, fate was preparing to decide whether Koch would become a wealthy defector— Or another forgotten corpse swallowed by the endless corporate war between Arasaka and Militech.
——————————– CREATORS’ THOUGHTS ShadowSamuraiTL Have some idea about my story?
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