Perhaps it was the exhaustion from all the recent travel. Uninterested in anything at the moment, Vela slept most of the way back to Night City. When the in-flight AI gently reminded her of their approach, her subordinate carefully woke her.
Still reclined and clearing her mind, Vela opened her eyes and looked out the porthole.
Night City was drawing near through the dusk.
This... was her domain.
Night City International Airport was about 15 kilometers from the Corporate Plaza. Vela knew the route by heart.
"The application is submitted. Now, wait."
She arrived at Arasaka Tower by AV, submitted her mission handover, and informed logistics to process the damage and supply reports. After aimlessly wandering the office for a while, she went home, uninspired.
Beep.
"Welcome home, Miss Vela."
As she stepped off her private landing pad, gentle ambient music greeted her. Her humanoid domestic bot, which had been idling the moment she reentered Night City's signal range, came forward and bowed, neatly taking her suitcase.
In six months, every piece of Vela's home security had been fully upgraded.
Though she often ran field ops, home defense was not something she dared to slack on.
Especially not now, as her standing within Arasaka kept rising.
The security in corporate communities was certainly dependable, but personal safety was another matter. Vela left nothing to chance.
The new Carolli-brand household security bot series was just one layer—combat-capable, but primarily support units. They cooked, cleaned, played piano. Vela liked their performance and bought several.
For actual combat needs, Vela used her Security Division credentials to buy a five-unit squad of Arasaka tactical bots at a steep internal discount.
She even parked an Arasaka automated combat mech in her backyard hangar.
Additional defenses included NetWatch-ordered counter-intrusion nodes and a dedicated home firewall. Kang Tao-installed AS-1 sentry turrets covered her apartment's rooftops. Rayfield performed her AV's armor and software upgrades.
It was a flood of expenses.
If not for the Russell family's significant assets, her high-tier salary, and field bonuses, Vela wouldn't be able to afford this lifestyle.
Yeah... being in the Security Division had its perks. Dangerous, sure—but the field work was lucrative.
Maintaining public order always meant suppressing instability.
Gangs that made the most noise naturally had their accounts and assets "redistributed" among Vela and her Arasaka troops.
Yes, a portion went back to Arasaka. But not all.
Arasaka still needed boots on the ground who were willing to bleed.
What mattered most: Vela was good at opening new revenue streams. She didn't just sit on a pile and nibble.
[Danger Gal: 2074 Annual Partner Dividend Notification]
Her optical HUD gleamed with an orange-red glow.
Money. More of it.
Danger Gal might be tiny compared to juggernauts like Arasaka or Militech, but their yearly profits were astronomical on an individual scale.
Vela stared at the digits flickering on her Arasaka banking account. She counted the zeroes three times before nodding in satisfaction. Her mood lifted.
Tap tap...
Stepping inside, she kicked off her work heels, walked barefoot onto the plush carpet, and undid her collar button. Tossing her jacket onto a nearby service droid, she undid her tightly bound ponytail.
Whoosh—
Right on schedule, her kitchen droid rolled in a food trolley, laden with freshly prepared ingredients sourced from a biotech farm. It cleared the table and began plating her dinner.
First things first: food.
After a hearty meal, full and content, Vela sprawled out across her white couch, letting herself sink into its softness.
Crossing her legs, she synced her thoughts with the house-wide entertainment system. One mental flick later, the display switched to News 54.
"Hello everyone, and welcome to this episode of News 54's special segment."
"I'm Gillian Jordan, here to deliver your latest local news, dear citizens of Night City. First, we begin with an unfortunate report from the Badlands..."
"A humanitarian convoy operated by Militech was ambushed by a group of rogue nomads in a bloody assault—"
"Tch."
Seeing Militech take a hit made Vela smirk.
It came with the territory. Militech was Arasaka's biggest rival in the arms industry. The backstabbing and power plays between the two never ended. As a longtime Arasaka loyalist and senior Security Division officer, she'd be insane to feel sympathy for Militech.
Unless she planned to defect.
She quickly set the news aside. Wishing misfortune upon others was no substitute for climbing higher.
Multitasking, she browsed all the major events that occurred in Night City while she was gone.
...
Perhaps the wait was getting to her.
Staring up at the high-tech chandelier above, hands folded behind her head, Vela sank into deep thought. Tokyo HQ's response would take time.
Until then, she wouldn't be sent on any major field ops.
With that breathing room, she had reason—and time—to refine her collaborative side business with Danger Gal.
And if Umbrella's product line continued to iterate, future releases of advanced biotech solutions—particularly those that could shake the global medical sector—would require base compounds derived from T-Virus research.
And in a cyberpunk world, those raw materials didn't exist.
At least, not that she could source. Vela doubted she'd find something like the Progenitor Virus in a long-lost African tribe temple beneath Cyber Africa.
So then—
The time had come.
Vela's eyes narrowed, her once-lazy gaze sharpening with resolve.
Swish.
She stood, ascended the stairs, and entered her private bedroom's washroom.
Lights on.
In the mirror above the sink, Vela met her own reflection.
White shirt. Loose tie. Sharply defined features. Strong bone structure. Her lightly cyber-modified muscle contours were subtly visible. A faint, knowing smirk curled her lips.
The look of a high-ranking corporate operator, always on the verge of issuing a new command.
But Vela wasn't admiring herself.
She was... waiting.
"That call in the dark... I know it'll work."
In the moment of decision, her composed face began to shift—an invisible force seemed to push her forward.
And she saw "herself."
Also standing in front of the mirror, but this one wore a red-and-white umbrella pin at her collar. Her eyes were unwavering, deep, like they pierced through space and time.
"Give it to me."
Vela reached out her hand.
The reflection moved.
A cyber-modified hand extended a sheet of A4 paper.
Her own unmodified hand reached forward.
They met.
Contact.
Tactile sensation—
Paper!
An indescribable emotion surged through Vela's chest: excitement, anxiety, elation.
It was like the aftershock of an ultra-intense braindance.
Suddenly fatigued, her soul boiling, her mind spinning, but—she could endure it.
It didn't hurt.
"What a strange feeling."
She exhaled, rubbing her forehead.
Then she lowered her gaze to her hand.
Black-and-white glow fading away.
A single, crumpled A4 sheet remained in her grasp.