Cyberpunk: The Ultimate Saga

Behind the lavish decor of Genting's entertainment complex sat a richly furnished office, dimly lit but oozing with power.

Inside, Forrest, also known as the Woodman, stood tall—about 1.9 meters—with a build that suggested he wasn't just desk muscle. He was occupied, fingers flicking through digital files and contracts, clearly in control of every detail within his domain.

A knock on the heavy wooden door interrupted him. "Boss."

"Come in."

Two towering security guards entered, escorting V. They stepped aside as Forrest gestured for them to leave.

"Being angry won't fix anything," Forrest said calmly, glancing up while lighting a cigar. "Unless you have a very convincing reason, you won't even have the right to keep that angry look."

"I'm just here for my friend," V replied, keeping her temper in check. "I haven't seen Evelyn Parker in a while, so I came to check in."

Forrest raised a brow. "Oh? You've got the wrong place, then. She's not here."

"But Sweetheart said—"

"She talks too much," Forrest cut her off. "What does a doll like her know? I'm managing a dozen fires every day. I don't have time for every minor issue."

He exhaled a puff of smoke. "By the way, Evelyn was a big draw here. If you happen to find her, tell her to come back. I've taken a loss on her disappearing like that."

"You're not going to silence me?" V asked, genuinely surprised. She had expected an ambush, not a business talk.

"Silence you?" Forrest laughed, as if the idea amused him. "You're a Genting client. We don't attack our clientele. Ever seen a high-end entertainment club just casually kill customers?"

V's gaze hardened. "Then what about Sweetheart?"

"She broke protocol. According to her service contract, we had every right to deal with her. You might've found it a bit... intense, but don't worry—we'll compensate you."

"How generous."

"We'll upgrade you to VIP," he grinned. "Full access to premium services. Anything you want, really."

"Hah. Silver lining, right?" V said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"My pleasure. Now, if you've got nothing else, please show yourself out," Forrest replied, standing.

V stared at him for a long moment, committing his face to memory.

Forrest didn't flinch. In his eyes, V was just another moderately enhanced merc—thirty percent body mod, maybe. No threat.

---

Outside Genting

Judy paced anxiously near the alley entrance. When she saw V being escorted out, she rushed over.

"How did it go? Any leads?"

"Not much," V replied and explained the interaction. Judy scowled.

"That bastard knows where Evelyn is. I'd bet my life on it."

V shrugged. "He's the boss. If he doesn't know, then who does?"

"We need to squeeze the truth out of him somehow," Judy said, jaw clenched.

"It won't be easy," V admitted. But this entire experience had awakened something in her. Life was fragile. She hated being powerless, dependent. She needed more. More money. More power. She wanted to become a legend in Night City.

"I'll figure it out. Just wait for me," Judy said with determination.

"I'll be waiting."

---

Two Days Later – Little Chinatown, Watson District

In a dingy clinic above a ramen shop, V sat on a cracked exam table, rolling her freshly repaired cyberarm.

"Thanks, Victor. I owe you big," she said gratefully.

"You'll pay me back, don't worry," Victor, also known as Lao Wei, replied as he cleaned up surgical tools.

V had recently hit a Vortex Gang hideout. Gangs were a goldmine if you were bold enough to rob them. She wouldn't touch civilians—she had a code—but criminals? Fair game. It was satisfying to get paid while cleaning up the streets.

To boost her survivability, she'd taken out another loan and installed a reinforced metal lung. Now, even if her lung got pierced in combat, she could keep fighting. Night City didn't reward restraint. It rewarded survivors.

"You're a good friend, Vic."

Victor smiled faintly. "Not many medics would offer surgery on credit, you know."

"I'll make it up to you."

V took a sip from the beer bottle nearby. In Night City, surgery was as common as lunch. No warnings, no recovery periods. If the implant synced with your neural system, you were good to go. If it didn't, well... paralysis, madness, or death.

Just another gamble.

"Be careful out there," Victor warned. He was still searching for a way to help Jack recover, but progress had been nil.

V nodded. And on top of that, she still had to watch out for Dexter DeShawn. After everything that happened, Dexter would be eager to tie up loose ends.

Arasaka was looking too, but not aggressively. Why?

Because she'd been smart enough to disguise herself. Optical camo. Facial morphing. At the very least, she'd changed her face and digital ID. The megacorp hadn't sent a full-blown search because they couldn't confirm her identity.

Knock. Knock.

A knock on the clinic door snapped them both to attention. Victor frowned.

The door opened, and in walked a man and a woman.

"Sorry," the man said with a polite smile. "The door was open. We let ourselves in."

Victor examined the pair. The woman was quiet but alert. The man? Confident.

"It's fine," Victor said, wiping his hands. "I just finished up."

"Perfect timing," said the man—Leon Black—with a smile. "We've got someone who needs treatment. Mind helping?"

Victor's eyes narrowed. "I just finished a procedure. Need some rest. I'll be late."

"No problem. We'll come back in two hours. Lena?"

The woman, Lena Fox, pulled out a wad of bills and placed it on the nearby table.

"Fifty thousand upfront. Another fifty after the operation. Regardless of the outcome," Leon added smoothly. "We wouldn't trust just anyone with this. You're the legendary prosthetic doctor of Night City, after all."

Legendary doctor?

V's eyes widened in surprise. She never knew Victor had that kind of rep.

Victor, however, remained cool as ice. "Appreciate the compliment."

He had seen Night City rise, fall, and reinvent itself. Despite all the chaos, he held onto the values of the now-defunct Devil Boxing Club—dignity, discipline, and loyalty.

To V, he was already a legend.

But to corpos like Leon, Victor was something else—useful, skilled, and reliable.

As for V, Leon barely gave her a glance. From what he could tell, she was only 30% augmented—maybe combat-ready, but still far from elite.

Human modification had tiers. Every 10% upgrade brought challenges. Every 30% tier had risk. V was barely past the first hurdle.

Even if she was the "main character," this wasn't a game anymore. What took 40 hours in a game would take months in real life. She still had a long way to go.

Still, V recognized Leon Black instantly.

She remembered his presence—his calm control during chaos. One of his subordinates had blown out a tire from long range with one shot. If that guy was an underling, how strong was Leon himself?

Despite the anxiety, V kept her composure. She wasn't about to flinch.

"We'll grab a bite. See you in two hours," Leon said with a courteous nod and left with Lena.

Seconds after they left, V turned to speak, but Victor raised a finger to his lips—silence.

He quickly moved to his console and typed furiously. Several surveillance feeds popped onto the screen.

Victor exhaled. "Alright. You can talk now."

"What just happened?" V asked, tense.

"All the protection systems in my clinic failed—completely," he muttered, lighting a cigarette.

V's heart pounded. No wonder Leon and Lena walked in like ghosts.

Victor's clinic was underground. Multiple security layers. Doors. Corridors. Sensors.

And she remembered—Victor did lock the door.

"That guy I told you about—the one with powerful subordinates?" she asked.

Victor nodded. "You don't know the half of it. That woman, Lena, probably disabled our security systems. And that sniper who blew the tire? Probably his guy too."

V was stunned.

No wonder Leon had left such a strong impression. His team operated on a different level.

She had once overestimated Arasaka's average security force. But now? She understood—only the captains and specialists were truly dangerous. The rank-and-file? Just bodies with guns.

Victor saw her worried look. "Don't stress. Even in Arasaka, people like him are rare. If they weren't, Arasaka would've taken over Night City by now."

"You knew they were Arasaka… and still agreed to the house call?" V asked, gesturing at the money.

Victor looked at the cash. "Exactly because they're Arasaka. You don't mess with people like that."

He flicked ash into the tray.

"They came respectfully, offered payment, and made no threats. If I said no, they might come back without asking next time."

"Besides… I've got bills to pay. Clinics don't run on ideals."

V stared at him for a long moment. Then she nodded.

"Be careful out there."

Victor smiled faintly. "Always."

pàtreøn (Gk31)