Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

Safehouse - Undisclosed Location

"Nope." Ethan Cross shook his head without hesitation.

"With your IQ? You'd be better off in a dumpster." Lily Cross replied sharply, her sarcasm cutting like a monowire.

Ethan casually spun two small iron balls in his hands—an old trick taught to him by Leon Black to keep the mind sharp and hands steady.

To Lily, though, it just looked like a waste of time.

"Su Petrochem," Mike Taylor said suddenly, his deep voice breaking through the bickering.

Lena Fox snapped her fingers. "Exactly."

"Look at me, then look at yourself," Lily continued roasting Ethan. "You're just lazy."

"I'm conserving brainpower, thank you," Ethan replied smugly. "Don't assume I'm clueless."

"Pffft, still pretending? Come on, it's okay to be dumb. Big sis won't laugh—she'll just feel really sorry for you, my sweet little dumpling~" Lily teased, lips curled into a mocking smirk.

"You—!" Ethan fumed.

Normally, their banter would be background noise to the team's work. But after Yuuto Arasaka had gone missing three days ago, Ethan found himself missing the man's strategic mind. Yuuto had been the team's connection to deeper corp networks.

"Su Petrochem won't be easy to approach," Lena said seriously, ignoring the playful fighting.

"They're outside the city," Mike responded simply.

The group nodded. Su Petrochem and Pedro Petrochem had a long-standing feud, so neither company could openly step into the other's turf. Instead, they'd built outposts on the city's edge to maintain a presence and cater to nomads and drifters.

Their hatred ran deep—dating back to the Second Corporate War. The details were classified, but it was known to involve massive energy conflicts.

Su Petrochem had once dominated oil production throughout the former Soviet territories and expanded its influence by infiltrating war-weakened governments, manipulating economies, and slowly absorbing national infrastructures across Europe. Caspian, Antarctica, the Middle East—wherever energy existed, they were there, drilling into the earth and into politics.

"Control energy, control the world." It was more than a slogan; it was their operating system.

By the time Biotech and Pedro Petrochem partnered to create CHOOH2—a renewable, clean biofuel—the world was already half swallowed by Su Petrochem. But CHOOH2 changed everything. Not only was it sustainable, it was efficient. Suddenly, oil wasn't irreplaceable anymore.

You could almost hear the screams in Su Petrochem's boardroom the day CHOOH2 was unveiled.

Still, the old giant hadn't collapsed. They were wounded, not dead. Mass adoption of biofuel would take time. People needed to adjust—just like the long transition from gasoline to electric vehicles back in the 21st century.

If the black-gold safe in their possession contained biotech data or experimental breakthroughs and ended up in Su Petrochem's hands, it could give them the boost they needed to dominate again.

No one was foolish enough to underestimate the power of a legacy mega-corporation.

"Lily, Ethan, Mike—you three will head out and negotiate with Su Petrochem."

The voice of Leon Black came through Lena's computer speakers. Calm, synthetic, and direct.

"Keep your identities hidden," he added.

"Huh? Captain, you and Lena aren't coming?" Lily pouted theatrically.

"We've got other priorities," Leon replied coolly.

"Aww~ I feel so insecure without Lena's guidance~" Lily exaggerated dramatically.

"Ethan has some decent hacking chops," Leon said. "He can handle it."

Before Ethan could puff his chest in pride, Lily chimed in again. "Which is exactly why I don't feel secure~"

Ethan stared at her with a deadpan expression.

"I'll give you one-tenth of the profits this time," Lena said suddenly.

Lily's eyes lit up.

"What are we waiting for? Go! Go! Go!" she shouted, springing into action. "I'll drive! Mike, gear up! Ethan, you better find Su Petrochem's contact even if it kills you!"

Ah yes, the power of money.

With Lily leading the charge and the others following—one grumbling, one silent—the room emptied quickly.

Lena chuckled softly behind her hand. "Money talks louder than you do."

All Leon gave in reply was a long sigh.

In this squad, solo missions meant solo profits. Whatever you earned on your own, you kept. Team missions? Those paid out bonuses from the company, and team funds went toward repairs, supplies, and essentials. Food and shelter were covered by the department, but top-tier cyberware? That required personal fortune.

Dreams demanded capital.

A full-body prosthesis had ten key modules and supported up to twenty-one plug-ins. Each piece, each module, added strength, reflex, or resilience. Maxed out, you'd be a god of war.

But that was theory. Most people couldn't handle the physical and mental toll of full-body augmentation. Even elite operators had limits.

Then there was cost.

High-tier prosthetics ran from hundreds of thousands to millions. When an opportunity came up to score that kind of money, Lily wouldn't miss it for the world.

Legendary-grade prosthetics—those rare, almost mythic enhancements—were the dream of every Night City operator.

And now, thanks to this mysterious box, Lily was finally close.

"Are you sure they don't need my backup?" Lena asked, eyeing the safe through the surveillance monitor.

"Baby birds need to fly on their own. The world's going to get harder. They'll need to carry that weight eventually."

Leon's image flickered onto the monitor. Clad in a lab coat, he removed his surgical mask.

"And Evelyn?" Lena asked, looking toward the operating room where Evelyn Parker lay motionless.

"AI isn't magic. It needs human creativity to solve its limits." Leon stared at the retracted surgical arms above the bed. "We're at a dead end."

Lena nodded slowly. "Then I'll contact someone."

"We'll need two," Leon added, pulling off his gloves.

---

Cloudtop Entertainment Club – Private Suite

"I can tell you're dying."

The red-haired doll known as Sweetheart, clad in sequined mesh and synthetic allure, greeted V with a jarring statement.

"…What did you say?"

"You're dying. Or rather, you've already died once. The version of you standing here… isn't really you."

Sweetheart's words were cryptic, her tone dreamy. V couldn't tell if this was an act or if she was really tuned into something deeper.

Was this part of Cloudtop's "emotional satisfaction" package?

"I don't know what my 'deepest emotional need' is," V muttered. "But I am looking for Evelyn Parker. Got any info?"

Sweetheart tilted her head. "You're looking for a detail. Evelyn is a detail. Why not look inward instead? Figure yourself out. The answers outside won't help until you know who you are."

"You sound like a therapist."

"I'm not. But I understand you."

V frowned. "Understand me?"

"Yes," she said softly, moving closer. "Give me your hand."

V hesitated, then reached out. Sweetheart held it gently, her eyes closing.

The room seemed to freeze.

"I see it," she whispered.

"What?"

"Another you. Fierce. Free. Like fire. Like floating seeds in the wind—directionless but burning bright."

"What should I do?"

Sweetheart smiled. "You don't need answers. The future will arrive no matter what you do. So enjoy the present. Come. Lie down."

V was tempted. For the first time in a long while, she felt like stopping—just for a second.

Then a voice echoed in her mind.

> "V~ You know what? I'm going to be a big shot in Night City!"

Jack. His laugh. His energy. His dream.

That memory reignited something inside her. Her eyes sharpened.

If Jack wasn't coming back, then it was up to her to carry the dream forward.

"Next life," V said firmly.

The moment she spoke the words, the suite changed. The mood lighting turned sterile. Incandescent white flooded the room. Sweetheart's white irises turned black.

"Wait—did I mess something up?" she asked nervously. "Why was the service terminated?"

"No," V said with a faint smile. "It was… enlightening."

Sweetheart relaxed.

"Alright. Back to business. What do you know about Evelyn Parker?"

Fear flashed across Sweetheart's face.

"You trying to get me killed?" she asked, stepping back. "Talking about other dolls is against the rules."

"Five hundred bucks. Or a broken neck," V said, standing. "You choose."

"I really don't know much," Sweetheart said quickly. "She had a fight with a client. Got beat up pretty bad. Taken to a hospital."

"Which hospital?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask the Woodman."

"Who?"

"Mr. Forrest. Manager here. He handles Evelyn's cases. But please—don't say I told you. I'll be in serious trouble."

"I won't," V assured her.

"He's in the back office," Sweetheart whispered. "And… be careful. He's dangerous."

"Thanks." V sent her a quick transfer.

Just as she opened the door to leave, several security guards blocked the way.

Sweetheart panicked. "It wasn't me! She made me talk!"

Bang!

A single round pierced her forehead. She collapsed, lifeless.

"You bastards!" V yelled, reaching for a weapon.

One guard calmly raised his firearm.

"Ms. V. Mr. Forrest would like a word with you."

pàtreøn (Gk31)