[Calling: Victor Victor]
"V? What's this, you finally remembered an old man like me today?"
The warm, slightly gravelly voice of Old Wei came through the comms, carrying with it the familiar calm that always steadied V.
V chuckled as she swerved the car through the neon-lit streets. "Old Wei, you're not old at all. Don't think I forgot you bragging last week about taking on a few rookies in the ring. Didn't sound like the words of a man about to retire."
Victor gave a soft laugh but quickly got to the point. "Let's not joke around. You wouldn't be calling me if it wasn't work. What's the situation?"
V glanced to her right. In the passenger seat, William slumped against the door. Blood soaked through his torn shirt, dripping steadily from his arm and pooling in the seat grooves. His breaths were shallow, each one sounding like a blade scraping stone. Even after V had pumped him with coagulants and shoved a can of Black Lace down his throat, nothing seemed to help.
"Yeah… work." V tightened her grip on the wheel. "I've got someone with me. Arm shattered, bleeding out, back riddled with shrapnel. He's fading fast. Sending you vitals now."
With one hand, she jacked the cord from her wrist into the interface at the base of William's skull. A stream of raw biometric data poured into Victor's system. On her dashboard, red warnings pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
Victor exhaled slowly. "Not looking good. Is he trauma team?"
"You kidding?" V snorted. "This guy's broke. Trauma wouldn't look at him unless he had a platinum subscription stapled to his forehead. He's no corpo pet."
Victor muttered under his breath, then sighed. "Alright. Get him here. But if he's bleeding this bad, keep dosing him with clotters until you arrive. Push too fast and his organs will shut down. Drive carefully."
V smirked at the irony. "Carefully, huh? At the speed I'm going, I'll be lucky not to draw NCPD."
She hung up, slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the car roared through the Taipingzhou intersection at 150 kilometers per hour. Police chatter buzzed across public channels, reports already flagging her Hera EC-D I360 as a danger on the road. She ignored them.
The skyscrapers of Night City blurred into streaks of pink, violet, and toxic green. Neon holograms of half-naked dancers, corporate logos, and food adverts flashed across the windows as her car sliced through traffic like a missile. The reflection of the massive holo-banner reading Unparalleled in the World raced across the hood of her vehicle before vanishing in the wake of smog and speed.
---
[Watson District – Little Chinatown]
The closer V got, the more the city changed.
The pristine, corpo-controlled plazas gave way to decayed high-rises, neon dragons curled around shattered concrete, and alleys reeked of oil and garbage. Street food stalls spilled smoke into the night, while old men hunched over card tables in dark corners. The air buzzed with languages of the East, sharp tones cutting through the hum of generators.
Here, corporate workers priced out of central districts lived shoulder to shoulder with the homeless. Sleek suits and torn rags brushed against each other in the same narrow streets. Card dens, gambling rings, and strip clubs became the people's only entertainment.
The Tiger Claws held sway here, but even they kept their distance from one place: Victor's basement clinic.
V screeched the car to a halt at a narrow alley. Standing outside was Misty, arms folded, heavy eyeliner smeared slightly as if she'd just rolled out of bed. She yawned, but her voice was calm.
"Victor asked me to help, V. Let's get him inside."
V hesitated. "I could've managed, Misty. But… thanks."
The two women pulled William from the seat. Blood soaked through Misty's sweater as his arm hung limply over her shoulder. The few homeless nearby stirred, watching with wide eyes as the half-dead man was dragged toward the glowing sign of Victor's basement shop.
Inside, the familiar antiseptic smell hit like a wall. Holo-screens lined the walls, flickering with biometrics and cyberware schematics.
"Put him here, kid."
Victor—broad, steady, hands already gloved—waited with sterilized prosthetics laid neatly on a tray. He took one look at William's condition and grimaced.
"We deal with the arm first before he bleeds out." He glanced at V. "Who is he to you? Makes a difference in the material I use."
V shrugged, though her voice carried weight. "Use what you need. If I can't cover it, he'll pay you back."
Victor gave her a half-smile. "V, you're the only one in this city who still runs a tab with me."
He bent over William, tweezers clicking as he began pulling shrapnel from the man's back. Blood spattered across the floor as Misty rummaged through shelves, searching for compatible prosthetics.
---
William's Dream
As Victor worked, William's mind slipped away.
He stood in a plaza bathed in pale corporate light, skyscrapers stabbing into the clouds like steel spears. Their mirrored glass reflected the city's cages, trapping the powerless below.
He stared upward, lost. Who was he? Why was he still breathing?
"Hey! What are you staring at, William?"
A voice broke the silence.
Mann slapped his shoulder with a grin. Rebecca stood nearby, hands in her pockets, her usual smirk softened by something unreadable. Behind them, Dolio, Qiwei, Lucy, David Martinez—they were all there, alive, watching him.
"Yo, amigo!" A familiar, booming laugh echoed. William turned to see Jackie, arms folded, samurai haircut shining under the plaza lights.
But before William could answer, the vision cracked. One by one, their bodies collapsed into lifeless husks, shattering like broken glass.
The plaza burned away.
Only a lone woman remained, her body riddled with wounds, kneeling at the foot of Arasaka Tower. A man with silver-white hair leaned against her shoulder, his bulletproof vest scarred from a hundred battles. His voice was low, chilling.
"This world is already broken. Burning it to ashes would almost be a kindness."
The ground crumbled.
---
[System Reloading… Data Loading…]
Red diagnostic lights blinked in the darkness. William's vision surged back.
He gasped awake on Victor's operating chair. His chest heaved, lungs dragging in the faintly metallic air. Nearby, the female corpo—Valerie, V—was slouched in a chair, asleep, her hair falling across her face.
William flexed instinctively. His hands felt… different. Stronger. He raised them to his face.
They looked human. Flesh-toned. But beneath the skin, he felt the subtle resistance of synthetic muscle fibers, the cold edge of alloy bone.
Embedded within his palm was a faint silver square pulsing against a black prosthetic membrane. He clenched a fist—the grip was inhumanly strong.
"[Subcutaneous Armor]. [Ballistic Coprocessor]."
The sudden voice startled him. V had woken, eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. She crossed her legs, watching him carefully.
"Where am I?" William croaked.
"Night City. Watson District." She leaned back, tone casual but eyes razor-sharp. "You're alive because I dragged your sorry ass to Victor Victor. Prosthetics are on the house—for now. You'll pay him back."
She leaned forward, her voice colder. "And in return, you're going to tell me about the theft of the Netherhound's wares."
William's heart sank. So this was Arasaka's infamous V.
A system window flashed in his vision:
[Character: Valerie (V)]
[Faction: Arasaka – Night City]
[Favorability: 0]
[Development Value: ???]
[Rewards: System overhaul; cybernetic upgrades installed—Ballistic Coprocessor (Blue), Subcutaneous Armor (Blue), Titanium Skeleton (Blue); Intelligence +3; Eurodollars…]
V spun a knife between her fingers, tossing it up and catching it again. The casual gesture was anything but harmless.
"Don't play games with me," she warned. "I can crack your skull, fry your brain, and reboot you back into consciousness. So talk."
William stiffened. He couldn't just spill everything—military tech, Arasaka's shadow projects, the chaos in Dogtown. His secrets were too dangerous.
But faced with her glare, he faltered.
"I… I need context before I can answer. You want the truth, you tell me what exactly you're looking for. Otherwise, I might tell you the wrong thing."
V's eyes narrowed, the knife catching the blue glow of Victor's monitors.
"I'm not asking twice."
William forced a weak smile, though sweat ran cold down his neck. "No lies. I swear. But you gotta tell me what part of the mess you want. I can't just… guess. Right now, all I know is I saw a monster—looked like Mewtwo out of a nightmare—and if that's connected to Dogtown, then we're in deep."
The room fell into silence. The hum of Victor's machines filled the air.
V let the knife drop into her palm and leaned forward, her voice a whisper of steel.
"Then start talking, William. Before I lose my patience."
---
End of Chapter 14