In the PROJECT universe, the Heavenly Eye modification works by implanting three perceptive minds into a single host, granting it detection capabilities far beyond imagination. Its purpose is to monitor every movement within cities under PROJECT Corporation's control.
A single human consciousness simply couldn't sustain the full sensory load of the Heavenly Eye. Forcing compatibility would only result in a crippled, watered-down version of it.
As for Pilar and Rebecca… Roland had no intention of inviting them for now. For one, he still hadn't obtained the necessary templates for the few candidates under his command who could adapt, and he was running short on Orange Essence.
Second, neither of them had much notoriety yet. Extending an invitation out of nowhere would likely make him look suspicious… And based on his understanding of the two, they probably had no intention of joining the company anyway.
If he really wanted them in, his best approach would probably be through Jhin.
Even so, Roland glanced around the bar, hoping to catch sight of Rebecca. To be honest, he was still bothered by how her story ended.
If he had the chance, he wanted to meet Adam Smasher.
And well… the Super Body was perfect for this sort of thing—both the intimidation factor and the size.
Roland scanned the bar and quickly found Rebecca in a corner. She was drinking some unknown soda while absentmindedly fiddling with the weapon Jhin had left her.
Seeing that, Roland froze. A memory hit him—hadn't he used Jhin's body to talk to her before? Hadn't he even given her instructions…?
Something along the lines of: If anything happens, this weapon is yours? And considering he hadn't contacted her since, and Jhin hadn't taken on any missions—
Had she started thinking Jhin was dead?
Roland's lips twitched. He picked up his Monkey cocktail and walked over.
"Hey, kid."
Click!
"Hm? What do you want, dude?"
Rebecca quickly shoved the weapon into her coat pocket and looked up.
Lizzie Bar wasn't too strict about weapons, but there were rules—dangerous weapons had to be checked in, or at least the ammo handed over.
Rebecca clearly hadn't followed those rules.
"You're Rebecca, right?"
Roland sat beside her, took a sip of his cocktail, then spoke.
"You know me? That's weird. I don't remember you at all, dude."
"It's normal you don't. We've never met. I only heard about you from a friend. Oh—by the way, that weapon you're holding is officially yours now."
Roland nodded, took another sip, and let out a small sigh before continuing.
Rebecca paused, then looked down at the weapon in her pocket. After a moment of silence, she asked quietly, "He… died?"
"No. He just got his hands on a better weapon, so he doesn't need this one anymore. So yeah—consider it a gift."
Roland explained when he saw the hint of sadness in her expression.
The moment she heard Jhin wasn't dead, Rebecca squinted at him. She'd always had a good impression of Jhin—he was one of the few decent people she'd met here.
The thought of him being dead had made her sad, but nothing more. Now that she knew he was alive, that was enough. She was just curious why he hadn't come to see her.
"So what about you, dude? Are you Jhin's assistant?"
"Pfft! What nonsense—he works for me, if anything."
Roland nearly spat out his drink, shooting her an annoyed glare.
His assistant? What kind of upside-down logic was that?!
"Come on. Usually someone who can't fight and wears a suit is just a manager. Don't pretend, dude."
Rebecca patted his shoulder with a knowing look, as if she'd already seen through him.
Roland's expression tightened like he'd swallowed something sour, but he didn't argue.
"Anyway, I just came to tell you this. I should get going."
"Oh, see you next time, dude. And if you get the chance, thank him for me. The weapon he gave me works great!"
Rebecca waved at him cheerfully.
She wasn't lying either—she'd already smashed the heads of several Street Thugs with it. One by one, each idiot thought she was just some harmless little girl they could prey on.
But Rebecca had grown up in Night City. She'd seen more than they ever would.
Roland headed upstairs with two Imperial Guard robots. It was about time to leave. As for Elizabeth's ideals—Roland had no objections.
In Night City, sex dolls were truly tragic souls. Most met miserable ends.
Many arrived from elsewhere chasing the dream of this so-called City of Dreams—only to be exploited by gangs, the police, and everyone in between until survival became impossible, eventually forcing them into the sex doll industry.
Once in, they were pressured into taking loans to upgrade their chips—because without the latest model, there'd be no customers.
And so the cycle continued, trapping them forever.
Along the way, they faced clients with twisted fetishes who didn't even see them as human. Many died or became disabled, buried under towering medical bills.
And seeking treatment was dangerous itself—scavengers lurked in every clinic. Broke? Then you'd become another skeleton beneath the city's neon glow, your body dismantled by scavengers and vagrants.
Roland shook his head. He refused to become another corpse in this city. And if he ever had the chance, he'd change Night City's fate.
Under PROJECT watchful eye, nothing would remain hidden—every action exposed.
...
As Roland stepped onto the rooftop, a man in a suit approached.
Thud!
An Imperial Guard robot instantly slammed him against the wall.
Roland looked at him, surprised. The man smiled politely and raised his hands.
"No harm intended, Mr. Vimers. I'm a supervisor from Night Corp. I'm here to speak with you."
At that, a sharp gleam flickered in Roland's eyes.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser