Cyberpunk: Infinite Progress Begins with Arasaka

The inhuman, shrill roar abruptly stopped as the headless corpse collapsed heavily with a dull thud.

"He went insane? F*ck, these Arasaka monkeys are always pulling weird stunts. Got cyberware and still uses his mouth to bite? Definitely some uncivilized savage..."

After blasting the head off the 'resurrected' Arasaka dog, the frontline assault commander of the Militech infiltration unit, codename "Strike One"—a one-armed white brute—spat disdainfully. He fired a few more shots into the corpse before hurrying over to check on the technician who'd been tackled.

"Gah... cough..."

The personal interface cable was stretched taut, still connected to the console. The technician clutched his bleeding neck, hacking up blood, bile, and digestive fluids, producing a sputtering, wheezing sound.

His throat had been completely torn open. The esophagus and trachea, reinforced with bioplastic, had been violently ripped out, now exposed and entangled with torn flesh—unclear whether it belonged to him or the Arasaka dog that attacked him—dripping with blood.

The interface port behind his ear was also deformed from the sudden forceful strike and yank, with sparks flickering at the chip slot.

Clearly, he could no longer continue the console decryption or file recovery task.

"Damn it!" the one-armed brute cursed furiously.

That Night City bitch would arrive in just a few minutes—he didn't have time to swap in a new hacker.

"Medics, patch him up! Everyone stay alert, and double tap every Arasaka dog corpse on the floor! Secure the Sonnentreppe Flower sample, initiate immediate extraction. Demo team, plant the charges..."

Make the call and don't hesitate—Strike One quickly made his decision.

If he couldn't get what he came for, so be it. But the gains already made must be preserved.

Just as he issued his orders—splat!

"What the hell was that sound?"

Following the noise, a few more shots were fired—once again at the same Arasaka dog's corpse.

Shreds of ballistic fabric and armored flesh burst apart from the tactical vest. The headless body suddenly swelled from within like it was fermenting. The gaping neck sprayed foul-smelling liquid and organ pulp like a popped soda can. Even the lower half—its anus—started gushing.

The stench that followed was a horrific cocktail: disinfectant, heated fresh plasma, stomach acid, bile, cyberware maintenance fluid, coolant, hydrogen sulfide, food residue, alcohol, plaque... a hellish medley of putrid fermentation.

The sour, acrid stench—unmistakable and unforgettable.

Ratatatatat—

Another concentrated volley. The body was now completely unrecognizable, yet the faces of the Militech soldiers were grim. The stench alone was enough to make anyone sick.

"F*ck. Med team, take the wounded and the sample—evac now! The rest of you, keep looting. Demo team, continue with the charges."

Shff—

The unlucky technician's torn esophagus and trachea were stuffed back into his neck. Bio-medical foam was used to stanch the bleeding, and a brace was applied to stabilize him. First aid complete, a medic slung him over their shoulder. Alongside personnel carrying the sealed container with the Sonnentreppe Flower sample, they jogged toward the gaping hole in the research building blasted open earlier.

"Poor Larry. I told you, just a tech cyberware implant isn't enough. That dermal plating you skipped? Could've saved you from that Arasaka mad dog biting through your neck... Don't worry, Larry, it's over. Once we're back, you'll get a steel throat upgrade."

"Haha... Larry, everyone else gets nicknames like 'Iron Jaw'. You? What'll it be—'Iron Neck'? 'Steel Voicebox'?"

While retreating at a brisk pace, the medic joked to lighten the mood, offering comfort and distraction to the unfortunate, injured tech.

"Cough... cough..."

"Alright, Larry, you rest up. That comms chip is fried—you couldn't speak now even if you wanted to..."

...

What they didn't notice was that the face of their comrade slumped over the medic's back was growing increasingly pale. The parts of his face still made of flesh were turning black, from the neck wound up to his cheeks and temples—capillaries and neural threads slowly darkening.

His body began to tremble, and the half-open cybernetic eye gradually dimmed. Blood seeped from his eye socket...

Shh...

Exiting through the breached industrial park wall, weaving between rubble piles, they reached the extraction point: old, ordinary-looking Nissan vans reinforced with internal armor.

They were operating in enemy territory—using AVs would draw too much attention.

Vmmm... Vmmm...

"Hurry! That monster's almost here!" the driver's voice was urgent. "'Strike One', have you pulled out? She's coming! Earlier than the analysts predicted!"

Looking up, they could clearly see several heavy Arasaka "Zetatech Surveyor" AVs sweeping in from the direction of Arasaka Tower in Johannesburg, now closing in on the industrial park. The terrifying figure standing atop the lead vehicle was nearly within reach.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The last interception unit fired guided munitions, their curved trajectories soaring upward—only to be destroyed midair, detonated remotely by the figure atop the vehicle.

The "Zetatech Surveyor" bay doors opened. Autocannons fired a sweeping barrage, and heavily armored Arasaka soldiers dropped in formation at her command. The sounds of gunfire escalated rapidly.

"Get in the van!"

Amid chaos, the team scrambled aboard. The wounded and the sample container were stowed deepest inside. Clack! The rear door slammed shut. The seated medic laid the injured technician beside him, then ducked his head to check his loadout—RT-46 Burya, chambered and on standby.

"Hey, Larry, it's over now..."

So he said. Just as he pulled out a short-barrel Crasher shotgun to check its status and reached for a Falcon I pneumatic injector to hand to his patient—

"...Shh... growl..."

"You..."

Hearing the strange sound, the medic turned—only to find Larry staring straight at him. His pale face was lined with dark, bulging veins. Blood seeped from his dimmed cyber-eye. His mouth, foaming and bleeding, gaped wide.

Roar!

Sudden violent struggle.

"Larry, are you insane?!"

Bang bang bang! Gunfire, shredding flesh, steel pellets smashing into the vehicle's interior. Screams, curses, a sharp screech from the brakes, a deafening crash—

BOOM—!

"Hm?"

Standing atop the armored AV, Vela tilted her head and dodged a sniper round. With a light sound of interest, she racked the bolt—clink!—then shifted her gaze from the dead anti-air operator, whose head had been pierced by a tungsten round, to the collapsing scaffolding and steel framing nearby.

Not far away stood the burning bioresearch facility, several breaches torn into the surrounding wall...

"Heh..."

Her eyes sharpened. Orange-red light flickered. Coordinates transmitted. "Fly in."

Vehicle AI: "Confirmed."

Vmmm...

As the AV surged forward, Vela sniped three more intruders with pinpoint shots. Then she approached the edge of the open hatch and released the empty Nekomata rifle. As it dropped, an Arasaka heavy soldier inside caught it mid-air.

Next, in response to Vela's outstretched hand—shff, shff!—an L-69 Zhuo smart shotgun, a TKI-20 Shingen smart SMG, and a thermal katana were tossed up one by one.

Catching them with ease, Vela strapped the Zhuo to the back of her armored vest, held the Shingen in one hand, and weighed the katana in the other.

As the armored AV approached the waste transfer station piled with debris, she bent her knees slightly—then leapt.

Thud!

Cracks spidered through the concrete. Using terrifying strength and balance, Vela landed steadily on the rooftop of the building. She took two running steps, then jumped again, pushing off walls and scaffolding to change direction, vaulting over obstacles amid muffled booming impacts.

"Found you."

Mid-air, her high-precision infrared scan module locked onto a van crashed into scaffolding—a shapeless heat signature inside.

Crash!

The van's roof caved in completely. The windshield shattered. Tires burst and hissed flat. The chassis struck the concrete with a flare of sparks—Vela landed squarely on top.

Modified vehicle.

She had full confidence in her impact force. No matter the trim, even top-spec civilian vans would buckle under such a hit.

Meanwhile, the driver—already rattled by a misfire from the backseat and now stunned by the sudden impact—was trying to stabilize the van. "What the hell just happened..." But mid-sentence, his eyes widened—the cockpit was tilting!

Clang! Vela planted her heel in the dented roof, shifted her weight, and tipped the entire van over. As it tilted, she pulled her leg free and landed cleanly on her feet.

Bang!

The van slammed down, sparks flying as it rolled over twice with loud metallic clanging.

The windows, made from high-strength ballistic glass, cracked but didn't shatter.

Click.

Hacking. Unlocked.

Shrrk! Vela tore the door open. A few quick shots—the smart rounds curved mid-air, exploding the heads of both the driver and the front passenger as they reached for weapons.

She chuckled. The orange glow in her eyes faded. "Military-grade hardware, huh. Still holding up... impressive."

Vmmm—her thermal katana flared to life. Shing! Vela slashed open the rear compartment.

What greeted her—

"Die!"

Ratatatat!

She sidestepped swiftly and pulled the trigger on her Shingen. Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh! A spray of blood mist exploded. The tracking rounds entered through the eye sockets, pulping the heads of each survivor—save one.

That one was still growling, tearing at the shoulder of a fallen comrade's corpse.

"Zombie?"

A strange expression crossed Vela's face.

How did you get infected? Did you swallow a progenitor virus sample? Inject my synthesized T-virus into your artery? Wait… the neck? Those are bite marks.

Ah… unlucky bastard.

Watching the guy gnawing uselessly at a teammate's shoulder—barely breaking the surface due to subdermal armor—Vela shook her head.

In a world this polluted, with everyone cybernetically enhanced, even a virus like the T or Progenitor strain couldn't cause a Raccoon City-level outbreak.

Suddenly—Bang!

Vela turned her head. A heavy round struck the armored van's side, sending a spray of sparks.

"F*ck! If we can't have it, destroy it!"

BOOM—!

A rocket streaked past the scaffolding from the rear, aimed straight at the van behind her.

Crack! The damaged rear hatch was wrenched off by Vela just in time. In one fluid motion, she hurled it at the incoming rocket—

BOOM! A thunderous explosion. Smoke and flames burst skyward. Nearby scaffolding collapsed under the force of the shockwave.

Amid the chaos, crash crash pop, Vela remained composed. With a graceful flourish, she spun her thermal katana.

"You Militech bastards... how should I thank you for all this?"

She murmured, sincerely—or maybe sarcastically, hard to say.

Blade lowered, stance readied. The next moment—she moved.

"Retreat!"

Tossing the spent rocket launcher aside, Strike One, the one-armed Militech brute, pounded the van door and shouted.

Vmmm! Engines roared to life. The vans scattered in the opposite direction from Vela, crashing through scaffolding to delay her.

Riiing—

At that exact moment, as Vela disappeared from his line of sight, Strike One's comm chip was forcibly hacked—

"Did you really think you could run, uninvited guest—Strike One?"

A cold voice echoed in his ear.

The operative felt a chill rise from his feet to the roots of his hair. Before he could respond—Crash! An impact.

He felt airborne—thrown by one of their own vehicles. Through the shattered window, he caught a glimpse of a teammate's terrified face.

"Sh*t! Hacker team—what the hell are you doing?!"

[Bird of South Africa]: "I said retreat! They wouldn't listen. Now... damn it, she found me! She's counter-hacking... oh f*ck no—no no no—Zzzzt...! AAAAGH!"

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

New volleys came in. Tracking rounds hit the driver beside him right through the eye socket—spot on, splattering brain matter.

"Aaaah!" Agonized screams rang out.

Another vehicle. CLANG!! A thunderous metal clash. One more van was kicked over, flipped into the air by a bump, spiraling, crashing hard.

From its side—something black blurred toward them.

Strike One roared in defiance: "F*CK! I'll tear a piece off you even if I die!"

"Then go ahead."

The dark blur filled the window. It was a Kang Tao L-69 Zhuo—two rows of four black muzzles pointing through the windshield.

BOOM! Eight smart shells fired at once, bursting inside the cabin like fireworks. Blood and gore painted the seats.

...

When the dust settled, and Arasaka's armored AVs arrived to mop up the remaining intruders, Vela stood atop the van where she'd found the zombie.

She silently sheathed her blade.

All around her—crackle pop—burned dismembered corpses and warped, ruined vehicles.

"Hoo... looks like it's over."

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