Prison — Medical Wing.
Three days had passed since the riot.
River Ward's airborne tackle had snapped three lumbar vertebrae of the chief guard. The man was now permanently paralyzed—likely unable to even wipe his own ass for the rest of his life.
Under normal circumstances, this would have constituted grievous bodily harm.
However, given the chief guard's abuse of authority and clear violations, River Ward's actions were ruled justified self-defense, and no charges were pursued.
The prison celebrated once again as if it were a festival.
River Ward became a hero yet again—
though admittedly, ever since arriving, he'd spent more time in the medical wing than in an actual cell.
Still, in inmate logic, if you could start trouble and survive the consequences, you were worthy of respect.
By now, River Ward was universally acknowledged as the prison's boss.
No one could change that.
Except V.
And V was busy.
City reconstruction.
Finalizing the Pacifica research facility.
Routine business for Arasaka 2077.
Negotiating rights and obligations at the Crystal Palace lunar base.
Enduring relentless pressure from Sascha and Michiko—one on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays; the other on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays.
On Sundays, she still had to make time for Joanne Koch to draw blood and run tests in preparation for treating her extensive neural atrophy.
She was, quite literally, running herself ragged.
Truth be told, after tossing River Ward into prison, she'd completely forgotten about him.
Fortunately, the future NCPD Commissioner turned out to be highly capable—and had done an outstanding job.
By using a psychopathic chief guard as a tool, River had quietly separated Reed and Alex.
One was back in a cell.
The other remained in medical.
This allowed River to approach the more outgoing Alex alone and build trust.
However…
"Heh heh—River, your pecs are solid as hell. How do you train them?"
River stared at Alex's hand wandering across his chest and felt utterly speechless.
This was supposed to be his operation.
Instead of him probing Alex, it felt like Alex was the one making the advances.
Before he'd even put any of his clever plans into action, he somehow already had her "trust."
That felt suspicious.
Very suspicious.
He swatted her hand away and said flatly,
"Don't touch me. We're not that close."
"Not close is fine—we can get to know each other."
Alex had run a bar for seven years; flirting and small talk were second nature.
"People say there are four unbreakable bonds in life:
fighting together, studying together, stealing together, and fucking together.
We haven't done any of those—but prison bars are bars, right?"
"How about we ask each other questions? One each. Get to know each other better."
River had intended to extract information anyway.
This worked perfectly.
"Alright," he nodded. "You go first."
Alex didn't hesitate.
"What did you do before? How'd you end up here?"
River stuck to his prepared cover.
"I was an NCPD detective. Took a little bribe. Got caught."
"And you?"
"I was a bar owner. Didn't commit any crimes."
River frowned.
"Then why are you here?"
Alex said it lightly, almost joking.
"Because I'm a covert agent of the New United States. They found me and dumped me here."
River's heart skipped a beat.
He forced a shocked expression.
"Seriously?"
Alex didn't answer.
"My turn," she said.
"Alright," River replied.
"If it was corruption, your NCPD career is over. What're you planning to do after release?"
River answered according to his original plan.
"If not the NCPD, I'll be a chef. It runs in the family. I'll start with a food cart, save up for a couple years, then open a small place. Cook by day, spend time with family at night. It's ordinary—but stable."
"Yes! Stable is good. Stable is fucking great," Alex nodded vigorously.
"My turn," River said. "Are you really an NUSA agent?"
"Yes. I was embedded in Dogtown for seven years, using a bar as cover. You worked NCPD—you know bars are perfect for gathering intel."
"And underneath my bar was a secret NUSA contact point. Sounds like a braindance plot, right?"
River was stunned.
Why is she telling the truth so casually?
Unless…
Ten truths, one lie. Classic misdirection.
She's a real agent alright—far better than a halfway-trained NCPD detective like me.
He tightened his guard.
Alex's next question came quickly.
"You mentioned family earlier. Who do you have?"
"My parents passed away. I have a sister with three kids—two boys and a girl. They're adorable."
"And the husband?"
"Ran off."
"That bastard."
"Yeah. My sister suffered badly—even depression. But thanks to President V changing Night City, she found hope again. Her depression cleared without medication."
"That's wonderful," Alex smiled. "V really is incredible. Night City is lucky."
River didn't want to dwell on V, afraid of slipping up.
He countered,
"What about you? Any family?"
"Yes. Father, mother, and a younger sister. But once I became an agent, I cut ties."
She smiled tiredly.
"Alina Zernakhs died in a traffic accident. What survived is Alex—a shadow with no past or future."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
She perked up again.
"Agents sound cool, but there's no freedom. I need twelve reports just to date. So I'm still single."
"You? You must have a girlfriend. When're you getting married?"
River shook his head.
"No girlfriend."
Alex's eyes lit up.
"Boyfriend?"
"No. I'm traditional. I like women."
Her eyes lit up even more.
"Perfect!"
"?" River blinked.
"Ahem—your turn to ask," she said quickly.
River got serious.
"If the NUSA treats you like this, why stay loyal? Selling intel and living peacefully seems smarter."
"I'd love to," Alex answered instantly. "But no channels."
Then she pressed on.
"Post-marriage—how do you see division of labor?"
River answered mechanically, then tried again.
"What about the NUSA? Why hasn't anyone come to get you?"
Alex exploded.
"Because the current President is worse than a gang boss! Rosalind Myers is a pile of dog shit—overnight dog shit!"
"She left me in Dogtown for seven years. But the moment she needs me, she'll show up smiling, saying 'the nation never forgot you.'"
She took a breath.
"Want to know how I joined the FIA?"
River shook his head.
"I grew up in the LA slums. Junkie parents. Criminal friends. My dream was to become a braindance actress."
"I sent demo reels everywhere. Nothing."
"Then one studio accepted me. I packed up and went to Washington alone."
"It was a front. An FIA shell company."
"They weren't recruiting actors—they were recruiting agents."
She laughed bitterly.
"They told me I was special. That the nation needed me. Everyone hears the same lies."
"They recruit civilians as cannon fodder. The reckless die first. The last one standing becomes a 'real' agent."
River felt heavy.
"You survived."
"I survived—but sometimes I wish I hadn't."
She waved it off.
"Anyway. Marriage. Thoughts?"
The conversation spiraled into absurdity.
Children.
Education.
Income.
Home décor.
Sex positions.
All while—
River extracted the key conclusion.
Solomon Reed was the critical node.
When it ended, River exhaled.
He stared at Alex, expression complicated.
"Your questions got really weird. You said 'perfect' when I told you I was single."
Alex burst out laughing.
"What—did you think this was just mutual understanding?"
"Wasn't it?"
"Of course it was a blind date!" she grinned.
"I wouldn't answer that many stupid questions otherwise. I fell for you at first sight."
Clang!
River, who hadn't flinched from bullets, was knocked straight off the hospital bed.
"I—I need to use the bathroom!"
The future NCPD Commissioner fled.
At the door, he stopped.
"I don't like bondage. But if it's you… maybe."
"YES!"
Alex struck a victory pose.
River ran.
The NUSA agent confirmed it again:
This giant wasn't just single—
he'd probably never had a girlfriend at all.
"So pure… too fucking pure," Alex drooled.
A full evaluation report soon reached Carter, who organized it and forwarded it to V.
V read it, then called in Meredith Stout.
"Alex is highly recruitable but holds limited intel. Reed is hard to recruit—but holds critical information," Stout frowned.
"Reed's weakness is unconditional loyalty to the President? That's not a weakness. You want Myers to order Reed to betray Myers?"
"Obviously not," V smiled.
"That's why we'll change the President."
"But impeachment's still ongoing."
"Reed doesn't know that," V shrugged.
"He's in prison. We decide what he knows."
Stout paused.
"You're saying…"
"We fabricate a new President. I'll have N54 News record a real fake broadcast. You use Militech channels to produce real fake documents."
"Damn. That's vicious."
Stout laughed. "When Reed finds out, he'll want to shoot himself."
"Fine. I'll handle the documents. But I'll need a fake President. Photos, at least."
V stared at the blonde woman.
"…Why are you looking at me like that?"
V smiled.
"Stout. You're the new President of the New United States."