V's plan worked perfectly—her anonymous email had genuinely frightened Myers.
Perhaps it was because conspirators see everyone else as conspirators; Myers was convinced someone intended to assassinate her. To be safe, she withdrew into the shadows, waiting—per Militech's recommendation—for Arasaka's grand offensive to conclude before swooping in to reap the spoils.
But asking a conspirator to behave was impossible.
Myers hid in the dark, true, yet that didn't stop her from stirring up trouble behind the scenes.
The President of the New United States personally called the president of Biotechnica's Night City branch. She analyzed the situation, explained the stakes—layer after layer, inside and out—only to deliver one message:
V's forces are all deployed outward. The interior is empty. If you rise up now, victory is yours.
To be fair, Myers' tongue was pure magic; she had once fooled even V in her past life. Fooling a Biotechnica branch president was child's play. She called in the morning—troops marched at midnight.
And V really was caught off guard.
Had V been alone, she would've had to halt all work on tuning the Heteromorph units and rush to repel Biotechnica's assault. And by the time she pushed them back, Arasaka HQ's army might already be knocking at her door. Wolves ahead, tigers behind—running on fumes.
In that case, V's chances of failure would skyrocket. She and Arasaka HQ might end up mutually wounding each other, leaving the NUSA free to seize Night City and fulfill their long-cherished wish.
It was a good plan—
Except V was not alone.
She and Xu Shiming had already reached an agreement in secret: she would provide Arasaka's high-end tech to free Kang-Tao from their technological bottlenecks, and in exchange Kang-Tao would help her pin down Arasaka Tokyo.
That request for "1,200 troops"? Not Xu Shiming's idea—V's.
Because she already knew: Night City would inevitably face a massive battle.
Those 1,200 Kang-Tao soldiers existed precisely for emergencies like this.
Back at Xu Ling's penthouse atop Kang-Tao Tower.
A holographic tactical sandbox floated in the bathroom. The entire corporate plaza hovered above the sink.
Large patches of crimson rippled across multiple intersections—enemy heat signatures rendered on the strategic display.
Xu Ling slid her finger across the hologram near Memorial Park, inserting twelve blue cones into the mass of red—like slicing open a beating heart with a scalpel.
"Here. Have Team B split into twelve squads and execute three consecutive feint charges."
With her full-face helmet covering her expression, she dropped another twelve blue cones into Concord Park on the opposite side:
"And here—Team C. Also twelve squads. Four waves of feints. Disrupt them and buy the main force fifteen minutes."
Both parks ignited at once.
A total of 384 Kang-Tao soldiers launched multi-level assaults from ground, rooftops, bridges—releasing nanofog to blind sensors while activating smart camouflage to simulate triple the number of heat signatures.
Instantly, blue cones flooded the map's edges.
Biotechnica panicked at the illusion of overwhelming numbers and immediately called for reinforcements.
"Hah! I knew it. V's backup really is Kang-Tao. Myers didn't even see that coming—idiot."
The Biotechnica president nearly vibrated with excitement in the command room:
"Deploy the Gene-Augmented Soldiers! Tonight, I'll take Night City—and shatter Kang-Tao's army myth!"
On the tactical display, red signatures surged forward.
Four hundred Gene-Augmented Soldiers' electronic eyes flashed streams of data. They smashed through walls and barriers, racing toward both parks.
But the moment the first Augmented Soldier stepped into the central plaza, the sixty-six low-frequency projectors responsible for the giant holographic koi let out a deep hum.
The koi vanished—
replaced by a torrent of nanoscopic high-frequency resonance waves.
One single hum.
A soldier capable of flipping an armored vehicle with his bare hands collapsed, clutching his head.
To ordinary humans, the frequencies weren't even noise.
But the hyper-sensitive nervous systems of the Augmented Soldiers turned it into a critical hit—
Vertigo, vomiting, unfocused vision, spatial disorientation.
Humanity's strongest warriors staggered in circles, overwhelmed.
Genetically compiled perfection…
came with genetically compiled weaknesses.
By contrast, Kang-Tao's soldiers—unaltered, natural humans—were immune thanks to millions of years of evolutionary filtering.
So who would win?
Sitting on the toilet, Xu Ling shivered once from the cold porcelain.
"Time to mince the filling."
Twenty heavily armed Kang-Tao strike teams "bled" out from Kang-Tao Tower and Arasaka Tower, converging on the large red cluster of signatures.
Grenades—cutting, incendiary, smoke—instantly carved the battlefield apart, splitting the 400 Augmented Soldiers into twenty perfectly sized portions.
"800 versus 400. 40 versus 20. Local reversal achieved."
Xu Ling opened the faucet and washed her hands.
"Add water to the pot."
Encrypted quantum pulses carried her orders to every Kang-Tao soldier.
Young fighters grinned savagely and switched their Yinglong submachine guns to smart-tracking mode.
At T+1:15, the air filled with beep-beep-beep of lock signals.
They pulled their triggers—
and more than twenty thousand rounds screamed skyward.
Casings glittered under Night City's lights.
Micro-thrusters hissed, turning the bullet swarm into shrieking metal birds.
And in the next moment—
the birds returned to roost.
Bullets bent midair, drifted sideways, curved in arcs, turned corners, bypassed cover, ignored obstacles—
and struck every Biotechnica soldier directly in the head.
A third of the Augmented Soldiers died instantly.
The survivors stumbled, heads ringing like struck bells.
Pain triggered their feral instincts. The remaining Gene-Augmented Soldiers tried to charge through relying on their heavy subdermal armor—
—but Xu Ling had expected exactly that.
Closing the faucet, drying her hands with a towel, she said:
"Play our friends 'Jasmine Flower.'"
Ancient melodies reconstructed with modern electronic instruments echoed through every Kang-Tao soldier's comms.
The elegant introduction flowed calm and soft—
like the steady hands of soldiers swapping mags.
The simple bridge radiated quiet resolve—
like the frontline fighters who would rather be torn apart than take one step back.
Gradually, unconsciously, the music rose—
as one squad after another finished loading plasma rounds.
When everything was ready,
the real performance began.
The beat thundered—signaling a civilization climbing from catastrophe toward prosperity.
It also signaled the soldiers' counterattack.
The era of heroes began.
Plasma ammunition poured forth.
Heavy subdermal armor meant nothing.
As arcs of electricity bloomed across flesh,
the music reached its majestic peak.
"O jasmine flower, so fair, so pure…"
Humming the lyric softly, Xu Ling watched all 400 Augmented Soldiers fall.
"Support both parks. Let's wrap! the! dumplings!"
Kang-Tao's platoons split, rushing to surround Biotechnica's remaining thousand troops in a pincer assault.
"No, no, no—no!! Their casualties are too high—order retreat, now! NOW!"
The Biotechnica president shrieked.
These soldiers had taken over three years to cultivate; the losses would doom him.
His panic was exactly what Xu Ling wanted.
"Give them something loud—see them off properly."
On the holo-map, blue dots parted, opening a corridor.
Red dots surged toward the apparent escape path—
only to hit a dual-layer trap of smart mines and sixteen elite snipers.
Bodies blown apart.
Heads bursting like overripe fruit.
Biotechnica's morale collapsed.
As smoke grenades rolled across the battlefield, Kang-Tao soldiers slipped in with infrared goggles, commencing the hunt.
Gunfire. Screams.
A few surviving Biotechnica soldiers stumbled free of the smoke—
only to hear the familiar, horrifying bzzzzzz.
Cheap Zetatech Bumblebee drones—modified by Kang-Tao into murder-bees—swarmed forward.
Originally meant for delivery and childcare, they now carried micro-explosive charges.
Tiny bodies.
Big detonations.
The final slaughter ended at sunrise.
As the morning breeze swept away the smoke, mountains of corpses emerged.
Seeing the casualty report—16.7% KIA, 2.3% serious injuries—Xu Ling removed her helmet.
Lure. Divide. Encircle. Annihilate.
Simple tactics—simple, but brutally effective.
Even though the holo-map already showed their defeat, seeing it in person broke Biotechnica's president.
He collapsed to his knees.
"Dead… all dead… How could they ALL be dead?! 1400 against 1200—how is that possible?!"
"Nothing impossible about it. I was top of my tactics class—the old man himself couldn't beat me."
Xu Ling approached, green flip-flops slapping the floor, Kang-Tao troopers behind her.
"You're the commander? Impossible—you're just a kid!"
Xu Ling tilted her head. A soldier stepped forward and smashed him across the face with a rifle butt.
"Losing is losing. Winning is winning. You adults love acting like you know everything."
She leaned down and enunciated each word:
"If you're bad at something—then train more. Stop your damn whining."
"You—!"
"Take him away. The Biotechnica Night City president has suddenly fallen ill. As a gesture of mutual corporate goodwill, Kang-Tao will assume responsibility for tower security."
"Uh, is that… appropriate? What if the other corps get angry…"
her adjutant asked cautiously.
"Angry my ass. If anyone complains, I'll take over their towers too. Make the announcement."
"O-okay… Should we issue it under your name?"
"Use my grandpa's name, you idiot!"
No trouble? It was "grandpa."
Trouble? Suddenly it's "dear grandpa."
Terrifying.
The adjutant hurried off.
As expected—the world was shocked again.
Shocked at Biotechnica's stupidity.
Shocked at Kang-Tao's audacity.
Shocked at Xu Ling's sheer brutality.
1200 versus 1400, total annihilation, sub-20% casualties.
An insane result—especially since Biotechnica had 400 Gene-Augmented Soldiers.
By standard equivalence, one Augmented Soldier = three regular troops.
Meaning it was effectively 1200 vs 2200.
Which made Xu Ling's brilliance even more terrifying.
Once spies transmitted the actual battle details, all the global corporate elites finally conceded: Biotechnica's commander was mediocre, sure—but Xu Ling was monstrously sharp. Every maneuver, every timing window… perfect.
Basic tactics, yes—but basic tactics executed flawlessly speak louder than any advanced doctrine.
No question—
Xu Ling was a born tactical commander.
Western corps cursed the heavens for giving the East yet another prodigy.
Thus Xu Ling rose to fame in a single battle.
"Impressive, Ling."
V met her after finishing the Heteromorph tuning. "You never said you were this good."
Xu Ling grinned. "V-jie, you never asked."
"That's fair. My mistake."
V chuckled. "You helped me immensely. Name your reward—I'll fulfill anything."
"Oh no, anything big goes through grandpa. He handles all the shady stuff." Xu Ling waved her hands rapidly.
"It's not about Arasaka or Kang-Tao. Just between us."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then I want spring rolls!"
"Spring rolls?"
V scratched her chin. "Sure. I know a Chinese place that sells real ones. People in Night City can't stand them—which means they're probably authentic."
"Yesss!"
Xu Ling leaped up and dragged V out the door.
Just as they left, Kang-Tao's adjutant entered.
"Director Xu, the funeral ceremony for the fallen soldiers is ready."
"Follow the usual rules."
"Yes."
V and Xu Ling headed out.
In the car, V asked, "You're not attending the ceremony?"
Xu Ling rested on the window frame.
"No. I never interact with the lower-rank soldiers."
"Why?" V was curious. "I heard Kang-Tao treats its soldiers extremely well."
Xu Ling smiled faintly.
"Because if I get too close… I won't be able to send them to die."
V fell silent.
Less than 20% casualties was still casualties.
And many of those were bait Xu Ling personally sent to their deaths.
"Does it bother you?"
"Not anymore."
"For the upcoming fight against Arasaka HQ… I want you to be the overall commander."
"No problem."
"Sorry."
"It's fine. I was designed for this. But if you really want to apologize…"
"Yes?"
Xu Ling flashed a huge smile.
"I want DOUBLE spring rolls!"
V only ate one plate with her before leaving—
because she received a call from Arasaka Michiko.
"Samizdat arrives in Night City this afternoon. Arrange a reception. Then prepare a press conference."
An odd command at this timing…
V paused—
then understood.
"Samizdat is your asset?"
"Yes."
"Leftover force from Danger Girl Detective Agency?"
"Yes."
"You want to use the international influence of three global superstars… to deter Arasaka Yorinobu's attack?"
"…Yes."
Michiko bit her lip. "I know it's unrealistic. But it's all I can do."
"I'll have Jenkins handle it."
"Mm."
V turned to leave, but paused at the doorway.
She bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Lady Michiko."
Michiko's shoulders trembled.
V closed the door gently—preserving her princess's dignity.
Everything that could be done… had been done.
Now all that remained was to wait for war.
Once more, V ascended Arasaka Tower's summit, overlooking the beautiful city below.
At some point, her feelings toward it had completely changed.
She no longer carried death on her back…
but something far heavier.
Responsibility?
No—
V shook her head.
Not responsibility.
Hope.
A smile tugged at her lips as she hummed:
"I sigh for blooming spring and falling autumn… remembering every farewell…"
Earlier that day, in a corner of the city—
"Fuck!"
Johnny was thrown out of a bar by several bouncers.
"Get the hell out! Saying Night City's doomed—if you weren't an old man, we'd beat you to death!"
"Oh yeah? Bring it on! You know how this ends—you're just too scared to admit it!"
When the men picked up bricks, Johnny darted into his Porsche 911 and sped off.
With few implants and no Silverhand arm, he wasn't about to test his luck.
Rubbing the bruise on his mouth, he decided to head to Cloud Nine for some relief.
V had given him a ton of eddies—he swaggered in and ordered over twenty dolls.
Fifteen minutes later, he was thrown out again.
"Night City will win! President V has worked miracles before—she'll do it again!"
"Get out, you crazy old man! I'd service a hobo for free before taking your disgusting money!"
"Cloud Nine doesn't want you here!"
"Goddammit!" Johnny yelled. "You're just a bunch of hookers—drop the holier-than-thou act!"
"We are hookers—
but we sell flesh, not our conscience!"
A bottle flew out and smashed over Johnny's head, splitting it open.
Half an hour later, Johnny sat at the Afterlife bar counter.
"One Johnny Silverhand!" he barked.
Claire placed an entire bottle of old tequila before him.
"What the hell? Clearance sale? I ordered one drink!"
Claire shrugged.
"Call it what you want—my boss opened Afterlife for free today. Anyone thirsty can come drink."
"Rogue, that stingy brat, being generous?" Johnny snorted.
"That's the first time I've heard anyone call Rogue a brat—but considering your age, it fits." Claire smiled. "War's coming. If we lose, everyone loses everything. One bar means nothing."
"You all could still run."
"Run where? The world's a septic tank. Night City's the only paradise."
"Night City? Paradise? That's more absurd than me calling Rogue a brat. What are you on—Glitter?"
"Sure, Night City used to be a pit. But President V made it a paradise. Schools, hospitals, clean streets, better pay, no stray bullets, no muggings at night. For regular folks… what else is paradise supposed to be?"
"So you're willing to be cannon fodder for her without being asked? Wake up—Night City can't win! Its odds are worse than rolling triple sevens!"
"But we want to gamble—because this is the first time we've ever been allowed to sit at the table."
"You're gambling with your lives!"
Claire laughed.
"With our crappy lives, in exchange for a better future? That's the best deal we've ever had."
She waved and stepped away. "Drink slow. I'm heading to the militia. Good thing my husband's been dead for years—being alone makes me the perfect chip!"
Johnny… felt respect.
But he still believed Night City couldn't win.
The world was too rotten.
Ordinary people could never defeat the corps.
That was why he'd nuked Arasaka Tower in 2023.
And after fifty years?
Arasaka Tower was still fucking there.
Hopelessness washed over him.
He chugged from the tequila—
immediately coughing, eyes watering.
Arasaka Saburo's body was far too delicate.
Why had fate revived him?
Why make him live through despair again?
If that was the plan—
then God was the same bastard he'd always been.
Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of yellow.
Johnny suddenly wanted to see an old friend.
He grabbed the guitar hanging on the wall—not walking toward Rogue, but toward the low-bass amp.
He struck the strings.
A thunderous blast filled the bar.
Even that casual strum made Rogue snap her head around in shock.
"Hey!" Johnny posed dramatically.
Rogue's response was to draw her pistol and press it to his forehead.
"Talk. Who the fuck are you?"