"What the hell do I have to say to you?"
Kirk slowly raised the pistol, his eyes cold as ice.
"Do the job, take the money, and get the fuck out. That's it. You don't get it?"
Faraday shrugged, giving the barrel only a passing glance before looking away with indifference, his tone carrying a trace of amusement.
"Why so tense, Kirk? Our target is just some small-time merc...
Do you know how many of those die in Night City every year?
Leaving Night City over a nobody like that... isn't that being a little too cautious?"
Fingers interlaced, he lowered his four cybereyes, glinting like insect compound lenses.
"Hmph..."
Kirk sneered, tapping the muzzle against the coffee table, his face thick with scorn.
"Remember the time you screwed me over a few years back? Forget it, I won't bring up that shit again.
But you think I'm still the same fool who'd fall for your tricks?
Don't forget, I'm a Fixer too. You sold out Militech and tried to pin it on me. Tell me... am I wrong?"
Faraday held his gaze, face full of unshaken confidence.
"Stop being so suspicious. Everything is clear—how could this possibly involve Militech?"
He was certain Kirk had no solid proof. If he did, they wouldn't still be talking.
"Months ago, Maine's crew stole a car. It belonged to an Arasaka operative.
It caused a stir. Did you really think I wouldn't hear about it?"
Kirk narrowed his eyes, his voice edged with accusation.
"We're Fixers. We take whatever gigs come our way. Where's the problem in that?"
Faraday gave a light chuckle, though the black muzzle pointing his way made him regret his overconfidence.
"Everyone in Night City knows how the corps work...
You burned Arasaka, and now you're suddenly working with them? You think I'm an idiot?"
By now Kirk slammed his palm against the table, his voice sharp and full of accusation.
"Friend, the corps—we all know what they're about.
To them, there's only profit. No grudges."
"But Militech is different. Once you provoke them, they'll sink their teeth in like rabid dogs—and they'll never let go."
Faraday shook his head with a calm smile, rising to his feet. He leaned forward, patted Kirk on the shoulder, and said,
"Same as before... This has nothing to do with Militech. This is Arasaka's business."
"It better be..."
...
The following afternoon, Arthur finally managed to send off the clingy little girl.
Back home, he restocked his liquor cabinet, bottles clinking as if to drown out the chaos of the city outside.
At the same time, in City Center.
Unlike other corporate towers, the Arasaka Tower felt like a world sealed off from everything else.
Though it rose into the clouds, it ran day and night like a closed tomb, cut off from the sun and moon.
In its atrium, inside a spacious private office, the dim light carried a faint crimson hue.
"This product is already fully developed... Are you sure... you won't reconsider?"
The man's steady voice had a probing tone, stripped of its usual corporate distance.
V stared across the desk at Jenkins, confused, but still answered firmly.
"Yes. I refuse."
In the low light, neither face could be clearly seen.
"Alright then... let's change the subject. Let's talk about what you brought back last time.
The company is very pleased. Handling such a problem with almost no cyberware implants... even gave our counterintelligence director a little face."
Jenkins stood from behind his wide desk and paced toward the glass wall behind him.
Holographic goldfish lazily at his feet. In the distance, the lights of the Militech complex flickered.
The walls of Arasaka Tower were glass, allowing a view of the outside.
But the panes weren't clear. From inside, the world beyond seemed drained of its natural vibrancy.
"Many things are like science. Every part matters."
His words carried an unspoken weight as he idly tapped the glass.
"Our bosses... in some ways, they're actually quite stingy."
Having worked with Jenkins for so long, V sensed something was off. She could already guess what he was circling around.
It was the same old story. The Japanese—the real masters behind Arasaka.
Clearly, she had caught their attention. But thanks to the same old prejudice, she wasn't getting what she deserved.
"Sometimes, those special positions...
If you can't cross that line, you won't even be allowed to stand still. No matter how high you climb, we're still outsiders. Disposable slaves."
Jenkins kept talking, rambling even, a far cry from his usual ruthless and decisive self.
V understood. Things were moving in a bad direction.
But she stood in Arasaka Tower. Sometimes, it wasn't about courage—it was about whether the chance existed at all.
"Any signs of movement from those two traitors in the department?"
Finally turning back to business, Jenkins's voice grew cold again, his usual tone restored.
On the glass wall behind him, a red warning line glowed—the perimeter marker for the AV defense perimeter.
"Nothing unusual so far..."
Pushing aside her unease, V answered.
"Why keep them alive? I can't see what good comes from it."
It wasn't just about two people. They controlled an entire ops unit, and with Abernathy backing them, they had real autonomy.
Like a splinter lodged under the skin—small but impossible to ignore.
"Better out in the open than hidden in the dark. At least that way, they're easier to watch."
Jenkins exhaled, sat back at his desk, and pulled out a chip, sliding it slowly toward V.
"Take a look. Useless shit, but it got dumped on our desk.
Another mess stirred up by that bitch, Abernathy."
Abernathy was Arasaka's Special Operations Director in Night City.
The Special Operations Division mirrored Militech's Operations Division, overseeing covert enforcement.
But Arasaka's Special Operations had far greater authority. They could even mobilize Arasaka's private army—the Security Division—a power Militech's Operations lacked.