She took off the hospital gown and casually tossed it into the laundry basket.
V looked at her naked reflection in the mirror.
Her body was refined and taut—slender, tall, and brimming with power. Clean, minimalist metallic lines ran along her limbs and torso, perfectly aligned with contemporary aesthetics. Those were the sutures left behind after cyberware installation, embedded in synthetic skin—interfaces for diagnostics, monitoring software, and maintenance routines.
In 2077, how to decorate those lines had already become a major topic in the fashion industry. The rich paid exorbitant fees to stylists to design one-of-a-kind suture patterns. The poor could only follow beauty bloggers, learning "How to create a high-end suture look with just 5 eurodollars."
V did neither.
She hired no stylist, followed no influencer.
Her only requirements for sutures were: efficiency, simplicity, rapid disassembly, easy replacement, and guaranteed combat readiness at all times, anywhere.
The legendary V suffered from a severe case of firepower deficiency anxiety.
Without strength, she genuinely didn't know how to live.
In just a short while, she completed a full self-diagnostic. All vitals normal. All cyberware functioning flawlessly. She made a few expressions at the mirror—anger, a smile—confirming her facial control was as perfect as ever. Satisfied, she nodded, turned away, and entered the shower.
Hands braced against the wall, she let the water cascade over her body.
This was how real bosses showered.
She shut off the water. Warm air blew from the wall, drying her completely. By the time V stepped out, even her hair was already dry.
She put on fresh underwear, a shirt, buttoned it carefully in front of the mirror, slipped into tailored slacks. The pure plant-fiber fabric brushed softly against synthetic skin. A genuine leather belt embedded with a smart chip automatically tightened around her waist.
She chose a blue-black tie, knotted it smoothly, then shrugged into her suit jacket.
A stone-faced, domineering CEO appeared in the mirror.
"Well?" V spread her arms, confidently showing herself off to Sasha.
Sasha's ears reddened. She stepped forward, straightened V's hem, smoothed her hair.
Even though she was completely satisfied with her lover, the Pink Cat still said haughtily,
"Passable. Just slow. David's already waiting."
"That's why I told you to come in and help me," V laughed.
Sasha rolled her eyes beautifully. "Yeah right. If I went in, it'd take even longer."
That… V couldn't refute.
She coughed awkwardly. "Let's go. Didn't you say David's waiting?"
She pushed the door open. David and Lucy were both there. Under his wife's careful grooming, David looked radiant today.
The boy he once was had long since become a man capable of standing on his own. His once-youthful face had hardened with resolve, his narrow shoulders broadened into something solid and dependable.
"V-jie," David greeted her.
"Looking sharp, kid," V smiled. "Ready to accept everyone's praise and cheers?"
"Honestly, I'm a bit nervous," David scratched his head. "But with you here, V-jie, I'm not afraid."
"Haha, you've really grown up. Even your flattery's improved."
"That's not flattery—it's how I really feel!"
"I know. Come on, let's not keep everyone waiting."
"Yeah."
David followed at her side.
Today was the day they were discharged. V had arranged a press conference—Night City couldn't have only one hero. What she hadn't expected was that citizens would come voluntarily, packing the hospital entrance to bursting.
People came to congratulate their saviors on recovering. Tourists wanted a glimpse of the heroes. When V and David stepped outside, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers.
V waved generously. David shyly copied her.
Seeing David deliberately walking a half-step behind her, yielding the spotlight, V grabbed his arm and pulled him to her side.
"Don't underestimate yourself, David Martinez. You're qualified to stand shoulder to shoulder with me!"
With that single sentence, tears welled up in David's eyes.
He had been a nobody—a bottom-tier nobody in Night City. He didn't know how he'd made it this far. But if he had to name a reason, it was entirely because of V-jie's selfless help.
Without V, his mother would've died long ago.
Without V, he would've died long ago too.
Yet here he was—alive in a better Night City. A city with his mother, his lover, his friends.
Overwhelming happiness flooded his heart. His voice trembled as he said,
"V-jie… with those words, even dying would be worth it."
"Don't say crap like that," V replied calmly. "As long as I'm here, you're not dying."
She glanced past him and teased, "Besides, if you died, what about Lucy? I heard she's already changed her surname?"
"Yeah," David said shyly. "My mom said Lucy living with me without a title wasn't right, so she told us to go register first."
"And the wedding?"
"Not yet. Lucy's torn between a Western or Japanese ceremony. She's Polish–Japanese mixed."
"What's there to be torn about? Do Western first, then Japanese. If you like, add Chinese and Russian too. Actually… that sounds fun. Why not just do every wedding style in the world?"
V rested her chin on her hand, thinking seriously.
David was drenched in cold sweat.
"Our budget isn't exactly big…"
"No problem. I'll handle the wedding," V smiled. "You and Lucy just show up."
None of this was hidden—the microphones broadcast every word. Nothing warmed hearts after a disaster like a wedding announcement. The crowd immediately erupted in thunderous congratulations.
The Old Captain was squeezed into the crowd, proud as if he were David's biological father. He grabbed people nearby and shouted,
"See that kid on stage? He's from Santo Domingo! Standing next to V! David Martinez—that's Santo Domingo's finest!"
Cheers roared. The crowd boiled. News AVs crisscrossed the sky, meticulously capturing every angle and sending it into countless homes.
Under immense anticipation, V began her speech.
"People thought Night City was finished this time—but the facts prove otherwise! Once again, we defeated our enemies, overcame disaster, and Night City laughed last!"
"Recently, several municipal officials were assassinated. Some claimed I did it to control the government. Let me clarify: I didn't kill them to control the government—Night City's government was already in my hands. I killed them because they embezzled funds during dam construction, directly causing this catastrophe!"
"I chose assassins instead of the law—not because I abuse vigilante justice, but to tell certain people this: when the law can't act, I will. When the law can't punish, I will. When the law fails, I am the final safety net!"
"I'm not some virtuous gentleman bound by rules—I'm the legendary V!"
The crowd exploded in cheers again. People weren't afraid of V's thunderous methods. They were afraid of a world where some were jailed for crimes while others walked free.
V raised her hand to quiet them.
"Enough of the unhappy stuff. Let's talk about something good."
"Do you know what made me happiest about this incident? Not that we won—but that we didn't lose. Why didn't we lose? Because this time, it wasn't just me fighting. It was all of Night City!"
"The military wasn't cold-hearted anymore—they opened carriers to shelter children and the elderly. The NCPD wasn't afraid anymore—they actively helped evacuate civilians. Ordinary people weren't selfish anymore—they helped one another and maintained order on their own."
"Old Night City could never have done this. But now it did. That tells me my efforts weren't wasted. That what I've done has meaning."
"And since my efforts have meaning, yours should too!"
"Military—bonuses! NCPD—pay raises! Civilians—I'm paying out shopping subsidies myself!"
"I want the world to know this: soldiers don't need to oppress civilians to survive! Police don't need bribes to live! Ordinary people doing good deeds will be rewarded! If you're willing to lend a hand, what waits for you is real, hard eurodollars!"
V pointed at the camera.
"Night City is just that kind of down-to-earth city! So what are you waiting for? Come visit Night City! Experience our vibrant culture! Don't worry about getting robbed. Don't worry about getting lost—Night City people will help you, and they can literally get rich by helping others!"
"And tourists—don't be jealous. As long as you're friendly and give Night City a five-star rating, you'll get tax rebates too! Bring 1,000 eurodollars here—leave with 1,500!"
"Choose Night City—choose a beautiful life! That's all."
Silence fell for a few seconds—then an eruption of cheers so loud it bordered on terrifying.
It started with soldiers and police. Then civilians joined. When tourists realized they got benefits too, outsiders cheering on the sidelines went absolutely feral.
No choice—this flood had dealt Night City's tourism a brutal blow. V was obviously going to push marketing hard.
Corporate representatives laughed and cried at the same time. They'd expected a solemn speech, not a cash giveaway and tourism commercial.
The Orbital Air representative sighed regretfully.
"With a stage like this, I'd be promoting my own achievements—raising my prestige."
The Zetatech representative—Abernathy's husband—smiled thinly.
"Prestige? Status? Night City churches have already replaced the Virgin Mary's face with V's. You think she's lacking prestige? People scream about money because they don't have any. People brag about achievements because they don't have any."
The Orbital Air rep flushed red and retreated into the crowd.
He was just a department manager at Night City's orbital port. Everyone else here was a top executive or deputy. The gap was too large for him to act out.
Orbital Air rarely attended such events, maintaining strict neutrality. V once thought they were just a profit-focused, clean company. Only after Delamain extracted CN-07's data did she realize how wild they were behind the scenes.
As a probe, V had specifically sent Orbital Air an invitation. They kept up their aloof image and only sent a department manager.
Frankly, Orbital Air would've declined anyone else—but this was V. When V personally asked, who dared refuse?
Oh—someone did.
The people of Night City.
V had explicitly said not to use her face for the Virgin Mary—but the Heywood church did it anyway.
When V heard, she went numb. Watching the footage, she nearly dug out a megabuilding with her toes. But apparently those churches' incense sales skyrocketed.
What could V do? She could only tell the tax bureau to keep a close eye on them.
After V finished, it was David's turn.
Watching him nervously read his speech—thanking this person, that person—Gloria was crying with joy.
V saw it. She understood it.
Every parent looked like that when their child finally made something of themselves.
David finished reading. He should've bowed and stepped down—but hesitated, crumpled the speech, and spoke plainly instead.
"However much I used to hate Night City—now I love it just as much. I'll keep protecting this city. Protecting our Night City!"
The crowd erupted again—louder than even V's speech.
Why?
Because V was distant.
David was close.
From a nobody to someone standing beside V, David became the idol of an entire generation.
Some worried this would dilute V's authority—but she didn't care. She wanted help. The more Night City legends like David, the better.
Afterward, V and David rode back to Arasaka Tower.
People lined the roads to see them off. The NCPD saluted in unison. Heavy weapons operators, mantis troopers, snipers, and assault units ran escort at the four corners.
A netrunner wanted to join—but lost the brawl against the other four. Bruised and swollen, he couldn't understand how V could be both an elite hacker and an absolute monster in combat.
Was the gap between people really that big?
Yes.
For example—V could drink endlessly, while Xu Ling was allergic to alcohol.
10:14 PM — The Afterlife.
V and her entourage gathered.
"Fuck—why do I have to drink NiCola?"
"Because you're allergic to alcohol."
Despite Xu Ling's insistence that "low tolerance doesn't count," she was sent to sit with David.
Seeing David also holding a glowing NiCola, Xu Ling asked curiously,
"You allergic too?"
"No. I just don't like carbonated drinks."
"Then why drink it?"
David smiled blissfully. "Lucy gave it to me. She's punishing me for not taking care of myself."
Xu Ling staggered back.
Can't drink alcohol—and now force-fed dog food too.
Big brother in cryo… maybe you come out and I go lie down instead.
On the other side, V and the others raised small bullet glasses.
"To David Martinez—born great, died glorious!"
"To David!"
They downed the pale-blue liquid.
David shouted from the next table, laughing and crying,
"Hey! I'm not dead yet!"
"Alive and legendary still counts—you even get your own drink at The Afterlife. Be happy," Johnny snarked.
Indeed—since David singlehandedly split the floodwaters, he'd become a recognized Night City legend.
Even alive.
Even without killing anyone.
Because he saved people—many, many people.
Saving lives was harder than killing.
David did it.
So he was a legend.
Vodka on ice mixed with NiCola—that was the David Martinez Cocktail.
Meaning: Born Great, Died Glorious.
V's group drank themselves senseless. David and Xu Ling sipped glowing NiCola through straws, faces twisted in agony.
The more miserable they looked, the happier everyone else was. Such was the disconnect of human joy and sorrow.
Mid-celebration, a burly Black man approached V with a toast.
"President V, a drink to your health."
V clinked glasses. "Thanks. Your name?"
"Aaron Waynes. Boxer."
"Alright, Aaron. Good luck in your matches."
They drank. Aaron was visibly excited.
"President V, thank you. Your encouragement means everything to me. I passed the qualifiers—I'm going to the Olympics. I'll bring Night City its first gold medal!"
That perked everyone up. Questions flew.
Aaron spilled everything.
He used to fight underground bouts. The Animals gang trained him, hired coaches, found venues. In return, he was controlled—throwing matches for gambling profits.
As Night City's security improved, the Animals fell apart. The worst were dead or imprisoned. The rest rallied under a new boss called Angie.
She didn't juice up on steroids and had a brain. Seeing rigged fights decline, she went legit—founded a boxing club, stopped training fighters, started training athletes.
Aaron was talented. He breezed through qualifiers and earned an Olympic slot.
Coming to toast V was part admiration, part Angie's request—for sponsorship.
The Olympics were a good thing. If Night City qualified, V would've hosted them herself. Hearing Aaron lacked funds, she waved her hand and transferred 1 million eurodollars, promising to visit his training personally.
Aaron was deeply moved, swearing to bring glory to Night City, and stumbled off.
"He drunk?" Johnny asked.
"No," V poured another drink. "He didn't drink. The toast was water."
"What the hell—water toast? Who's he fooling?"
"He's an athlete, prepping for the Olympics. Not drinking is right. That dedication is why I paid without hesitation."
"I was just standing up for you," Johnny grinned.
V rolled her eyes. "Nobody flatters without a reason. Say it—what do you want?"
"Nothing big. Just invest in me—I wanna release a new album."
"I heard Rogue already funded you—and you blew it partying."
"That wasn't partying—that was artistic research!"
"Johnny, has anyone ever told you something?"
"What?"
"You're a piece of shit."
"Fuck—that's slander! I never lie, I'm selfless, brave, faithful—"
Xu Ling pointed at Johnny and told David,
"See this old fossil? Barely a few drinks and he's already spouting nonsense. His tolerance's worse than mine!"
Johnny: "..."
V laughed. "Two hundred thousand. Not a euro more."
Johnny beamed instantly. "Deal! I'm trash—pure trash. As expected of the legendary V. Spot-on insult!"
V figured the money was gone—but who cared? She had too much anyway. One Johnny—or a hundred—couldn't burn through it.
They drank until morning.
V stepped over sprawled "corpses" and walked into the dawn.
She left the bar, headed north about 500 meters, reaching the intersection of Bradbury Street and Brann Street.
Turn into the alley—there lay Viktor's Ripperdoc Clinic and Misty's Tarot Shop.
And beside a vending machine outside the shop—
The person she was looking for.
"Arasaka isn't a normal family! They're not human at all! They're vampires—a whole swarm of them!"
V smiled.
Night City's prophet sure starts work early.