The new-generation nanomachines never had a true replication cap.
The so-called "20-cycle limit" was nothing more than an artificial restriction imposed by human design.
And since it was artificially added, it could naturally be artificially removed.
The most direct way to do that was for V herself to open the permissions.
"But I didn't," V said seriously. "I absolutely did not."
"But the system logs say otherwise," Nakamura Kayo frowned, equally baffled. "Could someone have hijacked your account?"
"Impossible." V shook her head. "My personal ICE was written by my own hand. Even an entire hacker team couldn't break through it. There's no way anyone could—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Because she remembered the other presence inside her body.
"I'll run a full self-diagnostic. You take over here," V said.
"Yes." Nakamura replied quickly, watching V hurry away.
After returning to Arasaka Tower, V locked herself inside her office and explicitly instructed Sasha:
"No one is allowed in. No one."
After confirming every door and window was sealed, V pulled out her personal link, jacked into the office access point, and dove deep—
into the dark, hazy Cyberspace.
"Come out. I know you're here!" V shouted into the world of zeroes and ones.
No response.
Furious, she forcefully disconnected. Just as she stood up—
Her vision went black.
She dropped straight back into her executive chair.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the physical world.
There was no up, no down, no left or right.
And right in front of her—
A gigantic jellyfish.
"You were looking for me," the jellyfish spoke.
"I told you before. I'm not in Cyberspace. I've always been inside you."
"Fuck you, I don't care where you are!" V snapped.
"Did you grant the nanomachine permissions?!"
"Yes."
"You're controlling me?"
"Yes."
"You motherf—!"
V unleashed her processing power, flinging a white beam of light forward.
It punched straight through the jellyfish's body, blasting out a mosaic of corrupted data.
She was about to strike again—
A sharp pain exploded in her chest.
V let out a muffled groan and dropped to one knee.
"I also told you," the jellyfish said calmly,
"I am you. Any attack you launch against me will be reflected back onto yourself."
"Fuck!" V clutched her chest. "What the hell are you?!"
"I am you."
"That's all you ever fucking say?! I'm human! I'm not some glowing jellyfish!"
"Are you sure you're human?" the jellyfish asked.
"What?" V froze.
The jellyfish continued, almost philosophically:
"Is a human defined by this protein-based flesh?
By the brain and neural networks?
Or by self-awareness?"
"Self-awareness!" V shot back instinctively.
"A pile of meat and a brain doesn't make a person!"
"I see."
The jellyfish repaired its wound.
"I will no longer interfere with your self-awareness. Goodbye."
Goodbye?
I'm not done talking!
"Wait—!" V shouted.
She opened her eyes again.
Back in reality.
"Fuck."
V cursed, walked to the liquor cabinet, and poured herself a drink—
Only to realize her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop fucking shaking!"
She slammed her fist into the desk.
The expensive solid-wood executive table collapsed instantly.
Wires sparked. Flames burst out.
The sprinkler system triggered—
Water poured down.
V stood there, soaked to the bone, and let out a long, helpless sigh.
Yes.
Helplessness.
That jellyfish had controlled her—there was no longer any doubt.
Those two minutes she lost consciousness were almost certainly when it took over.
What exactly had happened to her?
Why was there something like that inside her body?
If it could control her for two minutes—could it do so for two hours? Two months?
What if she did something against her will?
What if she killed her own friends?
What if she woke up to find Night City drowned in corpses?
Her body trembled—not from cold, but from fear.
The fear of losing control over herself.
She curled up, hugging herself tightly, grasping at what little warmth she could find.
An hour later, V opened her office door.
A crowd stood outside.
Sasha. Carter. Jenkins.
Senior executives of Arasaka 2077.
Xu Ling. Joanne Koch.
David and Lucy stood nearby.
Kurt Hansen leaned against the wall.
Johnny—wearing Saburo Arasaka's face—was there too.
Even Arasaka Michiko, standing beside her "grandfather."
"V, are you okay?" Sasha asked anxiously.
"I'm fine," V smiled. "Just had something annoying happen. I let off some steam."
"Have someone replace my desk. I'm going to take a shower."
She walked straight past them.
Just before the elevator doors closed, Joanne Koch spoke up:
"V. Remember what I told you.
If anything happens, you can talk to me. Anything."
V turned back, opened her mouth—
Ding.
The elevator arrived.
In the end, she said nothing and stepped inside.
Johnny grabbed his crotch.
"What the fuck was that all about?"
No one answered.
Xu Ling, however, looked thoughtful.
"It feels like when I was younger and my old man forced me to study military strategy."
"What do you mean?" everyone turned.
"Being forced to do things you don't want to do. No control over yourself."
Kurt Hansen laughed.
"Come on. Who could force her? She even had the New Africa president killed. She's V."
Everyone thought about it.
Yeah.
So what exactly was V worried about?
No one knew.
Time passed.
Night City ran smoothly.
The Type-II New Nanomachines replicated stably.
Performance data pleased every megacorp CEO, and the third round of R&D funding arrived quickly.
V seemed completely normal again—laughing every day, as if she'd never smashed a desk.
But the world wasn't calm.
The "war" between ESA and New Africa hadn't ended—though "war" was generous.
It was a one-sided massacre.
ESA had mass drivers and countless allies.
New Africa's president was assassinated by "unknown individuals."
The continent's largest nation immediately fractured—
hardliners, appeasers, ESA dogs, Soviet dogs, Chinese dogs.
Unity vanished.
Every man for himself.
Megacorps arrived under the banner of "humanitarian aid."
In reality?
Land.
Resources.
Technology.
Cheap labor.
At first, resistance fighters harassed corporate sites.
Then the corps raised labor待遇—half a slab of synthetic meat added to lunch.
Workers sold out their own people instantly.
Resistance crushed.
Then the appeasers got crushed too.
Factories rose.
Mines filled with corpses.
Children were taken into boarding schools.
Brainwashed. Used as leverage.
Then reporters uncovered mass graves.
800 children's bodies in a septic tank.
The remains were ground into feed and sold to Biotechnica's locust farms.
Global outrage.
Biotechnica sued—for selling uninspected feed.
The Irish company lost. Paid a fine.
Case closed.
No justice.
Just business.
Public hatred toward corporations exploded.
So the corps made a decision:
Hold the Olympics.
Distract the masses.
Who remembers dead children after fireworks?
The Olympics opened in grand fashion.
Aaron Wieners returned to competition.
V even organized a Night City cheer squad.
Aaron knocked out the defending champion in Round One.
A sensation.
Then lost in Round Two.
Public opinion flipped overnight.
Insults. Abuse. Blame.
"At this point, it's not surprising," Old Vik said quietly.
"You mean because he overexerted?" V asked.
"No," Vik shook his head. "I mean people."
At the airport, Night City welcomed Aaron home with cheers.
Support.
Encouragement.
V smiled.
"Night City's changed," Vik said. "Because of you."
Later, Sasha whispered:
"ESA's meeting starts at 4 PM."
"I'll be there," V nodded.
The meeting was about peace.
Everyone agreed.
Until ESA pulled out a map.
"Second meteor strike," they announced.
"To eliminate remaining illegal forces."
Silence.
One strike already wrecked the planet—
And they wanted another?
ESA had lost its fucking mind.