Bullets, shells, and rockets rained down like a storm upon the lush greenery of the upscale neighborhood. In an instant, blazing flames erupted, thick smoke intertwined with intense firelight. Shards of debris swirled through the air, tilting with the wind.
"David, three o'clock direction. Coordinates shared—take him out."
Amid thunderous explosions and the ceaseless cacophony of gunfire, David heard the sergeant's voice from the tac comms—picked up cleanly thanks to noise-filtered audio.
Through his optical scope, he watched one poor bastard get blown sky-high, spinning several times midair. Locking onto another security guard who'd miraculously survived the onslaught—with a face full of dumbfounded terror—David aligned the blue targeting reticle right on his head.
The property was managed by a Militech-held subsidiary.
This rich neighborhood, loyal to Washington, clearly wouldn't have contracted Arasaka security services.
According to the sergeant's orders: anyone living here, treat them as enemies. All pro-Washington. Some were even directly appointed and deployed by federal authorities.
Anyone who truly believed in Free State independence—unless they were spies—would never willingly live in this judgmental hellhole.
Red mark locked.
Without hesitation, David pulled the trigger of his Ashura smart sniper rifle.
Fwhip.
The bullet spun from the muzzle.
In the scope, inside the burning and half-collapsed security post, the lone-wolf guard who had just fired a few rounds jerked his head violently backward. His helmet caved in. Sparks flew.
As he dropped, David saw skull fragments, blood, and brain matter splatter all over the nearby wall.
David resumed his sweep.
BOOM!
An ear-splitting blast.
The noise-canceling headset picked up the sharp electromagnetic boom.
David turned toward it.
A crater had been blasted into the base of a fountain in the center of the neighborhood boulevard. A railgun tungsten dart had punched through the stonework and pierced the guard hiding behind it, shattering his chest.
The limp body, with visible data cables and ports in its right arm, suggested he was the tech handling the community's smart defense systems.
"Hey, David, you're slow."
It was Katsuo Tanaka.
From a rooftop vantage point nearby, Katsuo fired continuously with a kinetic sniper rifle.
Bang! At the underground garage entrance, a burly cyborg with a Mk. 31 HMG heavy machine gun popped his head out and let out a few wild shots. He was instantly hit in the abdomen—stumbled, buckled, and dropped to his knees.
Compared to David, Katsuo was the more professional sniper.
Though, with today's corporate armament capabilities, churning out elite sharpshooters wasn't exactly hard.
Take David's Tsunami Defense Systems sniper rifle, for example. It could feed targeting intel and enhanced imagery directly into his visual cyberware, auto-compensating for ballistic deviation. It even had built-in spotter features.
No need to aim too hard—just raise the rifle and shoot.
Fwhip, fwhip, fwhip.
David fired three bolt-action shots in quick succession. Two curved and struck down the dismounting enemies with precision.
Two of the retaliating guards froze and dropped. The third shot hit the car's metal frame—but no matter. The third man didn't get to return fire before a high-caliber round from another direction tore through his neck.
Beep beep.
[Suneo: Yo, David—when did you switch to bolt-action too?]
While putting a few finishers into the fallen corpses, David replied, "Special Assault only recruits multi-weapons operators."
"Flower unit"—"flower" meaning mixed. Emphasizing tactical mobility and flexibility, soldiers were required to be proficient with a wide range of firearms and gear. Anything they picked up, they had to know how to use—and use it well.
Just as David was about to ask Suneo how things were going on his end—
"All residents near the community, stay indoors or evacuate in an orderly fashion! If you choose to enter the conflict zone voluntarily, you do so at your own risk!"
"We are the Arasaka Security Forces. This operation is solely to summon suspect Plymouth Devon, involved in the '3.30 Arasaka Delegation Border Ambush Incident.' We are not targeting any other individuals or groups. I repeat..."
Vrrrm... Vrrrm...
As the broadcast blared, several armored AVs and Octant-class heavy drones roared overhead, proudly displaying the Arasaka logo.
Despite what the announcement claimed—ratatatatatatatata!—
The rotary cannons spat tongues of flame. As the iron beasts maneuvered gracefully through the air, intense automated fire screamed downward, bursting like chains of light. The high-caliber rounds struck precisely at the automated turrets that had activated in programmed retaliation.
Steel clashed with steel, sending violent sparks flying. The turrets shattered and crumpled into scrap.
The relentless barrage reduced the luxury villa to rubble in an instant.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Several rockets pierced the collapsed gaps in the villa's exterior walls.
A string of muffled explosions blew out doors and windows. Blazing yellow-orange fire surged forth, with glass shards flying like hail. Screams rang out as several security personnel were caught in the blast, flung through the air. Their skin ruptured like overripe fruit—bloodied and mangled.
Thud, thud. A dozen figures in matte-black full-body exoskeletons crashed down from the armored AVs.
Like rushing wraiths, they vaulted the villa's perimeter walls in a blink. As friendly fire support ceased, their charge continued with near-perfect rhythm—storming into the courtyard at speed.
"Arasaka bastards! Are you trying to start a war?!"
Spotting the aerial incursion, a bodyguard assigned to the Chief Secretary of State cursed from his hiding spot in the ruined building. He raised his Rostović DB-2 Satara rail-shotgun, but just as he pulled the trigger, he noticed a lag in his cyberarm.
Crackle—snap! A surge of electrical arcs burst across the bionic skin at the back of his neck where his neural ports and operating system implants were.
"Damn it—multiple netrunners..."
His moment of hesitation was fatal.
Pfft! Bullets riddled his head, neck, and chest. His subdermal armor shattered, and his entire head—along with half a shoulder—was blown clean off.
"He's got military-grade ICE. I can't crack it or track his allies quickly. But I can confirm Devon is inside."
From the hovering AV, the side hatch slid open. An Arasaka security specialist peered downward through the scope of a Nekomata electromagnetic sniper rifle. Data streams flickered in her cybernetic eyes as she spoke.
"That's enough. He can't escape. This mission isn't an assassination—we're here for overt retaliation. A forceful hit. We're not aiming for elegance or efficiency. Brutal is fine."
Seated inside on a folding seat, another Arasaka security specialist held an M-179 Achilles electromagnetic marksman rifle.
Clang clang clang! He fired precise shots at security cams around the villa and at the ICE-enabled defense drones that had locked onto the AV.
"Revenge isn't our only objective. Don't forget the other tasks—propaganda amplification and coordination with our allies… Deploy the Cyber Tyrant."
"Roger."
Beep beep.
[AI: Affirmative. Cyber Tyrant initializing.]
Clang!
Behind the AV, a modified Zetatech Surveyor—equipped for heavy ordnance and Tyrant transport—slowed its descent. Its underbelly opened slowly, revealing a specialized deployment bay.
Suspended within it—a matte-black machine over three meters tall, clad in thick armor. A hulking construct of steel.
The indicator light turned from green to red.
BOOM!
The heavy frame slammed into the ground, causing a violent tremor.
Clack clack.
Then came the whirring of vector thrusters and the mechanical locking sound of autoloaders clicking into place.
"...Operation Fluttering Sleeve Vajra. Retaliation. Target: Plymouth Devon."
A synthetic, hoarse electronic voice rumbled.
In an instant—fwoosh!—flames roared.
Mounted on the Cyber Tyrant's shoulder module, the rotary Vulcan cannon spun to life at an astonishing rate. The flood of bullets poured down like rain. Shattered stone flew everywhere. The already battered villa walls were instantly torn apart. The open rooms inside were perforated by the howling stream of metal, whole sections collapsing, exposing twisted steel frames and destroyed interiors.
"Cyber Tyrant... phew, good thing it's on our side."
David half-crouched, securing his assigned perimeter. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the enormous villa—complete with walls, swimming pool, courtyard, and lawn. In other words, the kind of fancy place he couldn't afford even if he sold himself twice.
According to the mission brief distributed to individual soldiers ahead of deployment by the 3rd Stationed Mobile Team, this villa was the designated target of Operation Fluttering Sleeve Vajra—
The Phoenix residence of Plymouth Devon, Chief Secretary of State for the NUSA's Arizona branch.
Based on real-time scouting by intel personnel and solid information discreetly provided by inside sources—
This was the lair of the man who had "conspired maliciously," "orchestrated the attack on the Arasaka delegation at the Austin Summit," and "plotted to assassinate Commander Vela Adelheid."
Those matte-black shadows storming the compound—David recognized them immediately.
Special Assault Unit.
The Night City Arasaka Security Division's top-tier combat force.
The unit where Commander Vela Adelheid made her name. Direct subordinates, elite field operatives, with excellent pay and always first to receive the cutting-edge tech that Vela personally developed or secured.
To the Arasaka Security Division, they were what MaxTac was to the NCPD.
A military-tactical unit that could be legally deployed just short of a formal war declaration or total revocation of the International Overkill Armaments Limitation Treaty.
Except for their gear, role, and structure, their personnel standards were on par with—or even beyond—Arasaka's corporate military heavy divisions, synthetic brigades, and permanent regiments. When war came, they could rapidly scale into frontline heavy battalions by equipping with war gear and filling out unit gaps.
It was also the division David currently most aspired to join.
Unfortunately, for now, he was still what the veterans called a green chick who hadn't seen enough blood. He'd need to polish himself further within the mobile corps before he could apply.
For this external mission, he'd been lucky enough—selected as a newcomer attached to the 3rd Stationed Mobile Team, deployed in support of the Special Assault Unit to assist with the "revenge" strike.
A standard old-hands-lead-newbies setup.
Through his tactical helmet's optical imaging system, David zoomed in for a clearer view: the smoke-choked gaps in the melted, torn villa walls, flying debris, ruptured concrete, wrecked and twisted defense bots, contorted gun turrets, and the sizzling chunks of meat...
Before he knew it, David's gaze had settled on the Cyber Tyrant wrecking the mansion.
More precisely, on the thick exoskeletal armor plating of its body.
"Cyber Kong, huh..."