"With joint efforts by the NCPD and Arasaka city marshals, violent crime in Vista del Rey has been effectively curbed. According to the latest monthly report, assault incidents have dropped well below Heywood's average level. Up next is a live interview by our reporter—most local residents view the city government's new policies positively..."
Santo Domingo, Megabuilding H4 Apartments.
In a small room, cardboard boxes and parcels of all sizes were stacked, filling the entrance.
The air was a mix of old belongings and freshener. The holovid playing WNS news flickered with shifting blue light from the old ceiling-mounted projector. The tabletop was covered with dug-up trinkets, old photo albums, and memorabilia.
"I've packed up everything useful. We're ready to go. Doesn't seem like there's much we need to bring anyway… Mom, what are you looking for?"
After organizing the essentials, David Martinez neatly stacked several Arasaka clover-logo suitcases into a cardboard box, sealed it, and labeled it "Academy" before glancing toward Gloria, who was still rummaging through the storage room.
You never realize how poor you are until you move.
Sure, we knew we were broke—but not this broke.
The apartment? Rented. The bed, sofa, TV, wardrobe, bathroom, storage room, and toilet? All came with the place. The computer? A basic black market model. Functional. Oh, and that damned front-loading washer was also rented—barely worked and still charged extra!
Once you took stock of it all, aside from some personal items, the Martinez household had nothing substantial. Literally just the two of them counted as "big items."
Then again, maybe that was a good thing. Made moving easy.
David chuckled at himself.
No resentment.
At least he was lucky—his mom raised him with care and hardship, instead of dumping him at an orphanage and bumming cigarettes off him on the street.
After setting the box aside, David plopped onto the sunken sofa in the living room, staring at the familiar ceiling, lost in thought.
"...Let us sincerely thank Ms. Vela Adelheid Russell for her outstanding contributions to Night City's public security. WNS News will continue covering progress on the Vista del Rey cleanup. In civil news, improved safety conditions have significantly boosted investor confidence..."
The news continued, now talking about rising housing prices in Vista del Rey.
With the NCPD and Arasaka involved, crime went down and land value naturally surged.
Fortunately, Mom acted fast—signed a long-term lease before the market fully caught on.
Later, when the Heywood real estate agents caught wind of the situation, they tried to pressure Gloria into amending the contract—a classic strong-arm tactic. But a graduate of the Arasaka Academy Class of 2076?
The real estate agent caught sight of an Arasaka city marshal chatting with NCPD officers nearby and... well, ahem. Right, right, a merchant must be honest. Integrity above all.
Thinking back on the agent's face when he saw him wearing the Arasaka Academy uniform during that video call—David could barely hold back a grin. So satisfying. All you snobs who look down on others—serves you right!
Smiling with vindication, David picked up the box on the coffee table.
Lifting the lid, he uncovered a separation chip containing footage of the graduation ceremony, a finely crafted commemorative shield-shaped badge, and his Arasaka Academy Class of 2076 diploma in Security and Tactics.
That's right—he had officially graduated.
Just like the usual simulations, he passed the assessments without issue. No unexpected twists.
He hadn't let Mom down.
With that thought, David closed the box, glanced toward his mother still sorting through the storage room, and his gaze firmed.
He swore to himself: he would give her a better life. He promised.
Step one after moving into the new place: buy a decent washing machine...
"I found it!"
Just as David was imagining the future, Gloria emerged from the storage room. From the bright smile on her face, it was clear she was feeling quite relaxed.
"David, look! You were so adorable as a kid... hahaha..."
Under the light, David stood up from the sofa and looked closely at the picture frame in Gloria's hands.
It was a photo of a woman and a child.
A photo of him, back when he was little.
Gloria looked at David and smiled warmly. "This is the most precious thing. One of the rare keepsakes from your childhood. I'm sorry we couldn't afford braindance recordings back then..."
David didn't quite know what expression to show.
Rubbing his temple, he pointed up at the ceiling and said, "Mom, if you keep dragging this out, the checkout time will pass, and every extra second we stay will cost us money..."
"You little brat... no, you're not a kid anymore." Gloria laughed and shook her head. After carefully storing away the photo frame, she looked around at the familiar layout of their 'home' with a hint of sentimentality.
After a moment, she turned her gaze away.
It was time to say goodbye to Santo Domingo.
"Now for your local Santo Domingo news. While the major gang conflicts have ended, persistent violence still plagues the Arroyo area. Sources say 6th Street has received support from an unknown force. Fatal shootings occur daily along the narrow boundary between Arroyo and Rancho Coronado."
"Experts warn that the gang conflicts in Santo Domingo may still escalate or re-erupt. As a precaution, the NCPD has decided to permanently raise the threat level for the Santo Domingo district..."
Beep.
Gloria turned off the TV, which had been serving as background noise. After neatly folding and packing the last few pieces of clothing, she picked up the storage box and walked out of the storage room.
"All done, David. I'll drop you off in Vista del Rey on the way. You're getting your job assignment today, right?"
David nodded.
"Katsuo said our first field mission will either be in Watson or the Badlands."
As he spoke, he grabbed a cardboard box and stuffed it with the scattered trinkets, old photo albums, and keepsakes from the table. Then he picked up a few more boxes by the door and followed Gloria out of the rental unit.
Outside, the apartment building was a rust-stained, dilapidated structure. The ground was filthy and cluttered, and the neighbors were either passed out or lost in their vices...
Heading downstairs, David stuffed their things into the trunk of his mom's beat-up old sedan. After two trips, he stood at the doorway holding a box and took one last look at the now-empty apartment.
That place no longer had anything to do with them.
"Goodbye, Santo Domingo."
He muttered softly, closed the door with a click, and the room fell into darkness.
Bzzzz.
A few minutes later, a red LED neon projection flickered on the door.
[MARTINEZ] → [UNINHABITED]
[RENTABLE]
Megabuilding H4 underground parking garage.
After checking the last of their belongings, David got into the front passenger seat. Gloria started the engine and drove off, heading toward the bridge that crossed the river into Vista del Rey.
In the car, bathed in the morning light, David kept glancing at Gloria's face from the corner of his eye. She looked pleased, but there was also a trace of melancholy.
David knew exactly why. After a brief silence, he said, "It's okay, Mom."
"Sigh." Caught in her worry, Gloria let out a sigh. Her voice suddenly turned a little hoarse. "I guess I can't hide it from you. As long as you understand..."
"Watson, the Badlands... the Arasaka Security Division—a department with high pay, high risk, and fast promotions. At the same time, it has one of the highest casualty rates in the entire company... David, you're an adult now. Your future's brighter than mine. I won't interfere in your decisions, but... forgive me for nagging. Please, just stay alive."
"I..."
David couldn't bring himself to say the word "promise."
He stared ahead, dazed: the car had passed NCPD's checkpoint and was now driving across the river bridge. Up ahead lay Heywood, the City Center, Corporate Plaza—a fortress-like skyline showcasing the overwhelming power and self-assured dominance of the megacorporations.
That was where his future lay.
But who could say what the future would bring?
He hadn't dropped out. He'd completed his credits and graduated as an adult. David was no longer that clueless kid.
He no longer held illusions that the powerful figure who once encouraged him, who had lifted him up at his lowest, would remember him.
Arasaka's ruthless corporate hierarchy, the Security Division's mission risks, Night City's increasingly volatile climate, the power struggles of big players... Within the circles he had access to at the Academy, he'd learned about all of it—more or less.
He understood clearly: he couldn't offer any guarantees.
But how much worse could things get?
Worse than how he used to be?
After a long pause, David turned his head. "I'll do my best."
That was the most he could promise.
Then, he smiled from the heart and thumped his chest with a clenched fist.
"Mom, even if you don't believe in me, you should believe in Commander Vela Adelheid, right? I'm in the Security Division. As long as she's around, and with Katsuo as our squadmate, I doubt the other departments would casually throw us in as cannon fodder."
"As for corporate wars... Arasaka's enemy is Militech, yeah? If a fight breaks out, then let it. You could say it's payback time. Arasaka lost once, maybe this time, it's their turn to lose..."
...
Washington, NUSA Federal Intelligence Agency Headquarters.
A dimly lit conference room. At the center, on the holo-display:
[Location: Night City, Badlands Transit Station, Agent 629217]
[Video Reproduction Accuracy 89.77%. Retrieving parameters, restoring footage, enhancing resolution...]
The display flared to life.
BOOM—!
Glass shattering. Buildings collapsing. Explosions and fire.
A first-person view spinning wildly.
"Fuck! Ambush! Ambush! It's Arasaka... the base is blown!"
In the distance, several Arasaka armored AVs floated in.
With the rattle of chain guns and a barrage of rocket fire blooming like steel flowers, a massive object plummeted like a meteor, slamming into a tactical missile vehicle that had just driven out of cover.
A shrill, grinding collision of metal tore through the air. The entire missile vehicle exploded, fire and smoke engulfing everything. Yellow dust and concrete debris shot upward, then rained down like hail.
"Shit shit shit—Adam Smasher?! Run!"
The agent's comms erupted into chaos: shouting, heavy thuds, squelching sounds, garbled and degraded by interference.
"Goddamn it, what is that thing?! Some Arasaka ninja trick? Are they mass-producing Smashers now?! Aaaaah—static"
Next came a buzzing noise, amplified by the vid-AI.
Suddenly, the agent dropped to the ground. Blood-streaked cracks spread across the view—spurt!
The footage cut out.
Silence.
CLANG!
Someone slammed the table in frustration.
"Shit!"
His ID badge bore the prefix "California," identifying him as the division chief of the Bureau's West Coast intelligence branch.
What the hell was this?
"Arasaka Airs the Uncut Premier of: 'Enemy Cyborg Slams Secret Militech Base in the Badlands to Hell'"?
Whatever else, it happened on his watch. A serious black mark. Mishandle it, and his career was done.
Breathing heavily, he finally calmed down and clapped his hands.
Thunk!
The lights brightened.
"Alright, let's hear it. What's the deal with Arasaka's new toy? President Myers has issued direct orders: we must determine the specs of that weapon."
He pointed at the enlarged, paused, HD-enhanced image of a hulking cybernetic war machine on the holo-display.
Adam Smasher, clad in new cyber-armor.
Key features were highlighted: oversized upper limbs, disproportionately short lower limbs—gorilla-like design. Beside him were several equally massive war machines, possibly Smasher clones or something else entirely. Another shot showed a freeze-frame of them manipulating a gravity field or magnetic force.
"Also, what about rebuilding the new transit station? What about re-infiltrating Dogtown's intel network? Should we 'activate' the last deep-cover sleeper that Kurt Hansen didn't root out yet?"
After signaling for his analysts to continue the tactical breakdown, he looked toward one corner of the room.
A guest advisor sat there, head lowered in thought.
A woman with shoulder-length purplish-red hair.
Slender build. East Asian features.
But most striking was her heavily cyberized body.
A high-capacity neural interface running into her occipital lobe. A life support system occupying most of her torso. Cryoregulation units. Blood-cooling systems. All of it screamed one thing: this was a top-tier netrunner.
"Songbird," the division chief addressed her.
"..."
"Songbird?"
"Ah, apologies, sir."
At last, the East Asian woman raised her head. Her face bore the telltale indents of heavy cyberware integration. Her pupils still glowed red, flickering with data streams.
"Looks like you've got something," he said.
"Not exactly. But tracing back to the source, that thing appeared after Vela Adelheid Russell took office. I dug through some sealed intel archives."
She paused. Reflected in her red-tinted eyes were the documents on the holo-display.
"She seems to have a record of multiple crossings through the Blackwall."