Del Coronado Bay.
Three destroyers and four frigates formed a T-shaped formation and unleashed a brutal bombardment on the Pacifica Docks. At least twenty high-explosive armor-piercing shells fell every minute, turning the Phantom Dogs' fortifications and defensive lines into dust.
Meanwhile, the core ship of the Second Carrier Strike Group—the LHA-77 nuclear-powered amphibious assault carrier—opened all 160 of its vertical launch cells. Like a crane spreading its wings, the next second, 160 ground-attack missiles poured down like a monsoon onto the Pacifica waterfront.
Twenty-seven missiles had once wiped out the Voodoo Boys.
Now it was over five times that number.
Deafening explosions shook the air. Blinding fireballs rose straight into the sky.
And when the smoke finally cleared, the Pacifica Docks… were simply gone.
Not flattened.
Not reduced to rubble.
Just gone—erased from the map.
Piers, high-rises, warehouses, every position the Phantom Dogs had built, every place people worked and lived—modern firepower wiped them out effortlessly.
Boiling seawater flooded inward as LCAC-77 polymer hovercraft transports and Ironclad-7 amphibious tanks surged forward. Phantom Dog fighters dashed out of concealment, regrouped with disciplined precision, rebuilt fortifications, and attempted to hold positions that no longer existed.
But Shōkaku cried out again—its pristine, sharp call slicing through smoke.
A modified electromagnetic CIWS cannon glowed with fierce blue light and, sacrificing itself, released an unstoppable blast.
BOOM!
A solid kinetic penetrator—accelerated to Mach 28—shot forth wrapped in crackling blue arcs. At near-meteor impact speed, friction with the air formed a plasma sheath and a long orange-red tail.
The shockwave alone tore skyscrapers apart, hurling steel and concrete like scraps of paper.
This projectile had no specific target.
It skimmed low across the ground, ripping through the Pacifica waterfront, across the Santo Domingo Ravine, and finally slammed into the Rocky Ridge of the Badlands before punching upward, tearing clouds apart and escaping Earth's gravity—entering low orbit with its remaining velocity.
What it left behind was a gaping, bleeding wound across Night City.
Every Phantom Dog in the port defense line—wiped out.
Everything along its path—leveled.
Skyscrapers collapsed.
Screams echoed everywhere.
This was a warning.
Saburo Arasaka knew it.
V knew it.
Everyone knew it.
Kneel.
Or the second shot comes.
And the third.
But after a moment of stunned silence, even more defenders surged forward.
NCPD.
Public Safety Guard units.
Reservists.
Gang members.
Some carried the wounded.
Most ran toward the front.
They rebuilt positions over the bodies of fallen comrades.
With flesh and bone, they tried to stop the advance of the war machine.
"Second strike incoming!"
"We're taking massive casualties!"
"Amphibious tanks have landed—they're forming a shield wall for the transports!"
"Transports landing now!"
"Seaview District lost!"
"Fall back to the Megabridge!"
"Megabridge lost!"
"Enemy main forces fully landed—they've split into two groups, advancing toward Corpo Plaza from Seaview and from the Santo Domingo Ravine!"
Bad news flooded into the command room.
Johnny paced furiously, shouting at Xu Ling, who wore her full-enclosed tactical helmet.
"This is your idea of command?! Our people are fucking dying out there!
Where's the White Whale Supercarrier?
Where are the Chimera MBTs?
You waiting for them to lay eggs?!
Genius commander my ass—you're a fucking disgrace!"
Xu Ling didn't answer.
She kept deploying reserve teams to intercept Arasaka—even though none of them were a match and would collapse in minutes.
The young tactical prodigy changed nothing.
Just like feeding logs into a fire.
Johnny exploded and reached out to rip off her helmet—
but Kurt Hansen grabbed his wrist.
"Don't be stupid, boy." Hansen's voice was dark.
"I can't sing. And you sure as hell can't fight a war.
The Xu girl is doing the right thing.
Mess with her, and you'll ruin everything."
"Right?! She's sending people to die!"
"No shit! How else do you lure the enemy deeper?! You saw it—Arasaka fired ONE railgun shot and erased a whole district. Face-to-face, we don't stand a chance!
We have to let them push in, stretch their lines, get mixed in with us—only then do we have even a sliver of hope!"
"A sliver bought with bodies?!"
"That's war."
Johnny turned sharply.
"Carter! What's our win rate now?!"
Carter hesitated.
"Thirteen percent."
"See?! That's what your 'war strategy' buys you—thirteen fucking percent!"
"It's just—"
"Don't explain." Johnny grabbed his guitar.
"You're right. I don't know war.
My battlefield is the memorial park—my friend's concert.
That's where I fight!"
"You're insane! The memorial park is on their advance route—it'll be a battlefield!"
"All of Night City is a battlefield.
If I can't live with it—
I'll die with it! Fuck, that line's badass—I'm putting it on my tombstone!"
Johnny stormed out.
Soon, Saburo Arasaka appeared on the live broadcast.
Johnny stood before the crowd at Memorial Park, guitar in hand, screaming his soul out—his wild, crude lyrics overturning his old image.
But the raw emotion and fearless fury struck every heart.
Night City's morale surged.
Arasaka's troops, on the other hand, faltered.
One-third of the amphibious tanks stopped.
Roughly a thousand troops refused to advance.
Even among the seven naval ships shelling the bay, two ceased fire.
"Win rate's up!" Carter shouted.
"Up six percent—now nineteen! Should we counterattack?!"
"Not enough." Hansen's tactical instincts sparked instantly.
"Rockerboy's doing great, but Saburo's wary now.
He's slowed the offensive.
Their lines aren't stretched far enough.
We need a bigger lure—someone Saburo won't ignore."
Hansen grinned.
"No one's better than me.
I'll lead what's left of my Dogs.
We'll be the bait.
The rest is up to you."
Carter's eyes reddened.
Everyone in the command room stood in solemn respect.
Hansen placed a heavy hand on Xu Ling's shoulder.
"Don't hesitate.
Abandon me."
Xu Ling trembled—but said nothing.
"Phantom Dogs forever!"
And the last kindling—those abandoned by the nation—threw themselves into the furnace.
"Palm View Drive lost!"
"Wild Wolf Bar lost!"
"Academy Street lost!"
"Phantom Dogs—wiped out."
"Enemy advancing again."
"Enemy battle line matches predicted pattern."
"Win rate at twenty-eight percent."
"NOW!" Xu Ling seized the moment.
"Kang-Tao and Arasaka—full assault!
Cut their forces at the Megabridge and the Redmud Bar!
Split the battlefield into three!"
On the holo-map, two blue formations erupted from ambush positions, slicing the red tide cleanly apart.
Arasaka halted and regrouped, but their line was simply too long—unable to support itself.
With both sides mixed together, Shōkaku couldn't provide clean fire support—its AI had to deploy MV-77 Thunder tilt-rotors and V-77 Shenlong gunships for precision CAS instead.
Xu Ling sneered.
"Been waiting for you.
White Whale—surface!"
A thunderous electronic horn blared as the White Whale Supercarrier rose from the orbital port north of Night City.
Its seventh-gen carrier fighters launched instantly, streaking across the skies as the crowds cheered.
With the air secured, the monster everyone had been waiting for finally joined the fight—
The Chimera MBT.
One of only sixteen next-gen main battle tanks on Earth.
It burst out of the collapsed Pacifica Stadium like a nightmare.
Its KL-274XYA flechette cannons—4,800 explosive-tipped AP flechettes per minute—absolutely shredded light armor.
Amphibious tanks popped like brittle walnuts.
"Palm View reclaimed!"
"Wild Wolf Bar reclaimed!"
"Academy Street reclaimed!"
"Enemy suffering heavy losses!"
"Win rate up—thirty-four percent!"
"Still not enough!" Xu Ling gritted her teeth.
"Before they recover—we push!
Deploy EVERY ground asset! Mercs! Gangs!
Send EVERYONE!"
More blue icons flooded the frontline.
Red clusters shrank.
But suddenly—
A red icon blinked and dozens of blue icons vanished at once.
"Report!" Xu Ling barked.
"It's Adam Smasher!"
"David Martinez—engage!"
A thunderous crash.
The C-Titan exosuit dropped in front of Adam Smasher.
"Your opponent is me, Smasher!"
"Good. I owe you a beating!"
They lunged simultaneously.
The C-Titan's gravity pulses slammed down—Smasher dodged with Sandevistan.
His Ba Xing hand-cannon roared—David weaved through the shots with Kerenzikov.
Both dodged.
Both charged.
Smasher drew his electric batons and smashed the C-Titan's arms clean off—oil and sparks spraying.
"You?! You think you can fight me?! Without anti-grav braces you can't even STAND!"
But the armless exosuit jumped—
David drove both knees into Smasher's chest.
Metal flew. Sparks erupted.
Steel slammed steel into the sky.
Smasher crashed to the ground—his body torn in half by the impact.
He stared upward.
"You… bastard…?"
David roared:
"Remember this—the name's DAVID!"
Smasher's red icon extinguished.
"Enemy elite neutralized."
"Advantage regained."
"Win rate—thirty-seven percent!"
"Warning! High-energy signature on the water—Shōkaku!"
The carrier's railgun lit up again.
"It's charging!"
"Stop it!"
"Too late!"
Xu Ling shouted into comms:
"CHIMERA!"
The Chimera planted all six legs into the earth—
the PAN-12 laser cannon surged with crimson light—
The railgun fired at Mach 28,
and the Chimera fired its overcharged plasma beam.
Blue and crimson clashed mid-air—
kinetic versus energy—
a duel of apex weapons.
A shockwave tore the clouds apart.
The beams tangled, interfered—then both deflected upward into the heavens.
Everyone exhaled.
But the Chimera exhaled flames—
steam hissing from its vents.
Its barrel melted.
Its circuitry fried.
Its systems died.
It was done.
Shōkaku had spent only one railgun.
And now—
it opened all 160 VLS cells again.
Missiles filled the sky.
But the Chimera jumped, spreading its legs wide—
deploying thermal decoys—
blocking 83% of the missiles with its own body.
Explosions rained.
Burning debris fell like meteorites.
An AI.
A machine.
Yet gentler than many humans.
Remember the fallen.
Honor them with victory.
"White Whale—engage at all costs! Sink Shōkaku!"
"WOOOOOO!!"
The horn blasted again—like a trumpet of vengeance.
The White Whale struck Shōkaku's port side—
but before it could fire again, Arasaka's escorts swarmed it like sharks.
Three frigates.
Two destroyers.
The White Whale's thin armor was its fatal flaw—it was forced into full defense, CIWS and mid-range missiles firing nonstop.
Meanwhile, Shōkaku's third railgun charge began—
and the AI locked onto Corpo Plaza.
Chimera was gone.
White Whale was pinned.
Nothing could stop the next shot.
"Is it over…?" Rogue thought.
"Is it over…?" Meredith Stout and Joanne Koch wondered overseas.
"Is it over…?" whispered millions watching the broadcast.
"Is it over…?" trembled Night City's civilians in shelters.
But Xu Ling… smiled.
"It's done."
What was done?
The tactic.
With all escorts pulled to intercept White Whale,
Shōkaku was isolated.
An aircraft carrier without escorts—
had the same weakness as the White Whale.
Every move until now—was the trap.
"Checkmate, Saburo Arasaka."
A thunderous blast—
the Heteromorph launched from the Watson industrial zone.
Kayo Nakamura shouted:
"President V—bring the future down to Earth!"
A sonic boom ripped the sky.
Everyone looked up at the descending figure.
"Heteromorph? What a shitty name.
Should've called it Bushido-III."
Johnny plucked the strings.
"Next song—'Never Fade'!"
Morale peaked.
The battlefield boiled.
The Heteromorph auto-injected second-gen nano-neural repair fluid.
V gambled again.
A sonic blast—Mach 5 acceleration—
V tore across the sea toward Shōkaku.
Six CIWS turrets spat 12,000 rounds per minute—
but V computed every trajectory, twisting through the dense wall of metal.
She slammed through the charging railgun—shattering it.
Metal burst. Electricity arced.
Night City roared.
V didn't stop.
She banked, accelerated, and struck again.
Each hit tore open another crater in the carrier hull.
Cheers rose with every impact.
Reports poured in:
"Enemy hull integrity 92%… 83%… 75%… 62%… 55%…"
"Win rate 39%… 41%… 43%… 44%… 47%…"
Then—
V detonated the ammo deck.
A thunderous explosion ripped Shōkaku's rear half into the sky—
the once-majestic beast gave a final agonized cry and drowned in the ocean that held it.
"Shōkaku sunk!"
"Win rate 59%!
We have the advantage—we have the advantage for the first time!!"
Tears filled the command room.
But V was not finished.
She turned toward the White Whale.
She broke through the escorts—
igniting magazines, tearing out power cores—
ships exploded one by one.
"Win rate 73%!"
"Win rate 91%!"
"WIN RATE 100%!!!"
"WE WON! WE WON!!!"
The fleet was annihilated.
Arasaka's landed troops signaled surrender.
Night City erupted in joy.
A soldier tried to share the news with his squad—
only to realize he was the only one left alive.
Memorial Park was buried in corpses—enemy and ally alike.
Johnny found his cigarette case on a bisected corpse…
and his lighter on another with its skull blown open.
A crushing weight pressed on his chest.
Night City had won.
But… was that all?
Everyone wondered.
But V gave the world an unexpected answer.
"It's not over!"
She hacked WNS—her voice echoing across the globe:
"Yorinobu Arasaka made a bet with me—that he'd destroy everything I have.
He lost.
So I'm coming to Tokyo to collect my winnings.
Yes—I will destroy everything he has.
His company. His reputation.
His tower.
His body and mind.
I'll erase them all."
"Night City is no pushover. This is retaliation.
If you don't want to get involved, leave now—I won't harm innocents.
If you want to stop me—come.
I'll break you into screaming pieces."
"And finally—
Yorinobu Arasaka, you're fucking dead.
I'll turn your tower into your grave."
The Heteromorph streaked westward.
At Mach 3, V reached Tokyo in two hours.
She hovered above Arasaka Tower.
News AVs swarmed.
Every global network broadcast the moment.
She smashed through the 100th-floor windows—
cameras zoomed—
Yorinobu sat inside.
V advanced.
A flying knife shot from the shadows—she dodged.
A katana swung from another angle—sparks burst across the Heteromorph.
That sword style—
V recognized it instantly.
A shimmer—optical camo peeled away—another attacker slapped a patch onto the armor's waist.
V smashed both assailants away—
Yorinobu hit a button—
electric arcs burst—
Nothing happened.
"You trying to shut down the suit with EMP?" V sneered.
"Self-healing liquid-metal outer shell.
Free electrons between metal atoms create natural EM shielding—reflects or absorbs high-frequency pulses."
Yorinobu—no, Saburo—pal ed.
"That's Arasaka tech!"
"Exactly. Beaten by your own tech.
I told you—I'd destroy everything you have, including your pride."
V opened the Heteromorph and stepped out.
Saburo froze.
"You?"
V looked at the three men around him.
"Ken'ichiro Saburo. Takemura Goro. Oda Sandayu.
Copies of their minds, right?
Your resurrected final trump card?
Fine.
I said I'd destroy everything—so I'll kill them myself."
"Arrogant fool!" Saburo roared.
"Each of them can slaughter legions!"
"Bullshit.
They're all people I've beaten before."
V smirked.
"I'm out of the suit.
All three of you—come.
If you're scared, I'll even give you one hand."
"BAKA!!!"
Ken'ichiro, proud and reckless, struck first—
a blade flashed—
but V didn't retreat.
She let it stab her shoulder, surged forward, and seized his throat—crushing it instantly.
Takemura's katana swung—
V pulled Ken'ichiro into the strike—
the blade lodged in the reinforced bone.
A headbutt cracked Takemura's teeth.
A brutal knee strike caved his face.
Oda shimmered two meters away—
V ripped the knife from her shoulder and flung it—
it slit his artery cleanly.
Three elites—crippled in seconds.
But crippled wasn't dead.
V swept them together and drove her elbow into them—sending all three flying.
BOOM. CRACK. CRASH.
Ken'ichiro smacked into the wall.
Oda crashed through a glass table.
Takemura hit a partition—his chest crushed—dead instantly.
The surviving two struggled to rise—
V pulled the katana free and hurled it—pinning Ken'ichiro's heart.
As for Oda—she simply raised her right hand and fired a plasma bolt.
He exploded.
Blood splattered across Saburo's face.
V grabbed an expensive scroll from the wall and wiped her face clean.
She grinned.
"What're you staring at?
Struggle.
Show the world what 'great men' are made of."
Saburo howled, grabbed the katana, and charged.
V side-stepped—punched him in the face—
the mighty founder of Arasaka collapsed, wailing like a child.
"'Great man'?" V spat.
"Fuck great men."
Outside, news AVs captured everything live—broadcasting it to billions.
Saburo rose again—gripping the sword.
He did not attack.
He knelt formally.
"I will commit seppuku to answer to the world.
V—be my kaishakunin."
V laughed coldly.
"You think you're a samurai?
You think you get to die with dignity?
You?
You're not worthy.
I told you—I'd destroy everything.
Including your dignity."
"You demon!!"
Saburo screamed and charged.
V sidestepped—hooked his leg—
and the founder of Arasaka plunged out the shattered window.
"Did you know?
I won't even let your corpse remain."
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!"
Saburo Arasaka fell from the tower's peak—
his decaying ideology and flesh shattering together against the ground.
He once fed on the lifeblood of the land, rising above all.
Now he returned to the dirt—his blood soaking into the earth.
V stood at the window, hair blowing in the storm.
Facing countless cameras—
she declared to the world without hesitation:
"From today on—
there is only ONE Arasaka in this world.
MY Arasaka."