A dreamless night.
Vela woke up from restful sleep and instinctively glanced at her nightstand.
There it was—a crumpled sheet of standard white A4 paper.
"Materialized from nothing? No..."
"Object creation? Doesn't feel right."
"Time-space displacement... huh. Feels just like a dream."
She picked up the paper, feeling its solid texture in her fingers.
The exhaustion from last night was gone, dispersed like morning mist. The rest had washed her clean, leaving only freshness and clarity. It felt like just a few seconds had passed... or an entire night. No visible changes to her body, yet Vela had never felt so refreshed.
Pop pop—
Stretching with a satisfied yawn, she could hear the subtle clicks of enhanced titanium bones and muscles moving. It felt light, smooth.
Using the dust-free, gold-plated cabinet slider as a mirror, she caught her reflection. Her indigo eyes looked brighter.
Still in yesterday's clothes, yet her energy and spirit were completely renewed.
She looked nothing like an overworked, burdened corporate hound.
Sitting up gently, Vela crumpled the paper in her hand, recalling the surreal events of the night before.
"Seems the title of 'natural genius in biotech' won't be coming off any time soon," she murmured.
She mentally sorted out the clutter of thoughts in her head, then looked at her raised hand.
Smooth, flawless skin. Slender fingers tipped with clean, polished nails. Under the warm ambient light, her arm looked even fairer than before.
Not the pale of a corpse—this was the healthy, rosy white of someone thriving.
Despite significant cybernetic enhancement, all with top-tier components and excellent upkeep, Vela's body had always borne faint signs of artificiality. No matter how skillfully concealed, the slight indentations left by augmentations were still there.
But now... it was as if her exceptional physique had brought out double the potential of each implant. Seamless. Flawless. As if she'd been born this way.
Like all modern implants, the key was compatibility—how well a device harmonized with the user's physical and neural systems. Differences in compatibility determined the effectiveness.
Forcing compatibility and overloading systems often led to cyberpsychosis.
Vela's current state, to put it simply, was like being a universal adapter. Her body now let cyberware operate at, or even beyond, its design limit. Total synchronization.
Turns out she had been too cautious. Too careful with her own life.
Digging deeper into the moment's intuition, Vela let out a strange, wry smile.
Yes, taking the paper had left her fatigued—but no migraines, no blood from her nose or ears, none of the catastrophic side effects she had braced herself for.
All that overpreparation... for this?
Then again, maybe it was just because it was paper. A standard 21cm x 29.7cm A4 sheet weighs only 4.3659 grams.
If she had tried to pull over something like a B.O.W. Tyrant instead, she'd probably be in intensive care right now.
Probably.
Vela chuckled at her own dark joke.
"One night of sleep, and I feel even better than before..." Even her thoughts flowed more clearly.
The act of contacting her "alternate-dimensional counterpart" and pulling something through felt oddly similar to donating blood.
Excess red blood cells aren't always beneficial—sometimes, a little draw promotes circulation, boosts hematopoiesis, and improves health.
This... might be just that.
Similarly, Vela's soul—her core consciousness—had been steadily expanding since her brain matured and stabilized in this life. It had never been actively depleted. Now, for the first time, there was a deliberate draw upon it, like a therapeutic blood donation. A night's rest would see her refreshed and fuller than before.
"Well, caution and all-in plays each have their pros and cons. Can't win them all."
It wasn't too late.
The extraction of the T-Virus should begin.
Regaining her composure, Vela walked toward the washroom, stripping off her shirt and pants that she hadn't bothered removing the night before. She didn't regret her caution or cowardice—after all, life only comes once.
Just as she unhooked her undergarments and was about to step into the bath—
Ding-ling-ling—
Her private email pinged. Without even glancing, she accepted the incoming message.
—Application Response—
From: Arasaka Tokyo Global Headquarters
To: Vela Adelheid Russell [Night City]
[Your application for the scholarship and Arasaka internal recommendation for Tokyo University Faculty of Law has been approved]
Read.
"Well now, isn't that perfect? A double blessing."
Vela closed the mail interface, slid into the bath, turned on the shower, and opened the one-way panoramic window. As the first rays of Night City's dawn filtered in, a relaxed, eager smile tugged at her lips.
...
Municipal Center, Arasaka Academy.
The 2074 academic year was nearing its end. A unique atmosphere hung over the campus.
Disparity.
At the academy's entrance, students clad in red-and-black Arasaka uniforms gathered in clumps or walked alone. Some chatted about vacation plans or post-exam dreams. Others looked sullen, their hope for the future clearly fading.
It had been over half a year since the opening ceremony. The fiery motivation sparked by the "chicken soup" speeches from VIPs had long since dimmed.
With every class session, students were reminded of the towering corporate structures, the rare greenery in a concrete jungle like Night City, and the vast gap between themselves and that unreachable world.
The difference between dreams and reality.
No money, struggling to keep up, pressure, bullying—student numbers had already dropped. Arasaka Academy had never been known for a low dropout or suicide rate.
Tap tap ~
David Martinez hurried toward his classroom in Arasaka Academy.
"Hey, did you hear? That kid Allen from Comprehensive Class 3 jumped."
"Tch, about time. No money, total bookworm, stuck-up as hell, and wanted to join the Management Faculty? Try again next life! Hahaha..."
Nearby, some snotty company brats sneered. David scowled at the sound.
He really didn't like his classmates.
That initial passion from the start of the year had long been drowned by the academy's twisted environment.
Even that dreamlike flash of pale-gold hair from the ceremony had faded in his mind. David understood clearly now—he and that so-called upperclassman weren't even in the same universe.
"Sigh."
David entered his classroom. No sooner had he stepped inside than several fawning voices rang out.
"Whoa, Katsuo, today should be the field activity arranged by the Security Division, right? I heard my dad say it's a rare treat. Is it Mobile Response or Protective Service that's coming?"
"Yeah yeah, I heard you've already been pre-selected by the Security Division, and some bigwig has their eye on you?"
Those two again. One tall, one short. One round as a ball, the other greasy like a yellow-haired delinquent. Pathetic tagalongs, buzzing around that mushroom-headed brat Katsuo Tanaka.
David scoffed to himself.
Just like every day. That brown-nosing nonsense.
He was in Comprehensive Class 1 due to his high grades. Until the second-year split into faculty specializations, his class was packed with corporate kids.
Katsuo Tanaka ignored his sycophants, lying back in his ergonomic classroom chair—complete with neural ports and instructional cables.
Soon, the bell rang.
From the podium, a blue data-lined holographic projection of a bald, intellectual-looking woman appeared. The teaching AI.
"Good morning, students."
It swept its gaze across the room.
"Perfect attendance. Excellent."
"Before our summer assessments, today marks your long-awaited hands-on training. This year, you will be interacting with the Night City Arasaka Security Division. In thirty minutes, field operatives will arrive and select a few high-performing students to join a practical session."
"Please approach the experience with your utmost seriousness and enthusiasm."
Wait—Security Division?
David's eyes widened.
That woman—wasn't she from the Security Division?!