"Persona"

"Arasaka Academy, 2074 Freshman Entrance Ceremony. A speech, huh."

Vela laid the opened invitation flat on her desk, lighting a premium women's cigarette with a hint of self-satisfaction, her fingers tapping idly on the armrest of her chair.

She hadn't smoked in the past, but the grueling self-imposed study regimen at Arasaka Academy, compounded by the internal pressure of working at Arasaka, had worn her down over time. She picked it up without realizing it—product of her environment.

Beep beep.

A new message alert pinged on her office terminal.

"Heh." Glancing at it, Vela chuckled lightly.

These academic types were quite into their rituals. Paper and digital formats both—each invitation was addressed to a specific recipient, and only after the paper invitation was opened and its embedded chip recognized would the digital version be dispatched.

They were inviting Vela, one of Arasaka Tower's distinguished graduates and outstanding alumni, to give a speech.

To be realistic, it was just using her as living proof—to inspire, to sell dreams to the new recruits entering Arasaka, those starry-eyed expendables, the kindling to keep the Arasaka fire burning.

The ceremony was scheduled for June…

"Interesting…" Vela mused. The timing was no coincidence. They must have caught wind of her upcoming promotion, and wanted her appearance under her new title to reinforce the Academy's persuasive power.

Raising an eyebrow at the thought, she accepted the invitation without hesitation.

No downside. Mutual benefits. Everyone gets what they want.

Clicking confirm on her terminal screen, Vela formally notified Arasaka Academy that she would attend the 2074 Freshman Entrance Ceremony.

Time to dish out some corporate inspiration.

"Hoo..."

She pressed the cigarette butt into the nearby ashtray, releasing a curling wisp of smoke. Flexing her fingers, cracking her knuckles crisply, she leaned forward to scan through her messages and documents one last time. After confirming there were no oversights, she stood and stretched, rolled her neck, and left her desk.

Walking over to the recessed wine cabinet embedded in the left wall of her office, Vela pulled open the glass door and scanned her collection—from Paradise Champagne to Castellare di Castellina, to Kyoto's Gekkeikan.

Pop.

She twisted open a bottle of amber-colored honey whiskey, poured herself a glass, and took a small sip. The sweet liquid slid down her throat like river stones smoothed by water. She leaned back comfortably in her executive chair, gazing out through the panoramic window behind her at the view of Night City.

4 PM. The sun was setting. A jungle of steel. Layered and dense. A world divided between black and white.

The bulletproof glass wall offered one-way visibility—no privacy concerns.

After some time—ring ring ring.

"Yo, Vela, enjoying a drink after wrapping up, huh?"

As the call came through, a middle-aged man in a gleaming black suit with red trim appeared on the virtual screen of Vela's ocular implant.

"Uncle Thomas, good afternoon. Just waiting for the handover. If you're feeling tempted, I can send over a few bottles of Paradise Champagne."

James Thomas—her superior's superior. Deputy Director of Security for Arasaka's Night City division, overseeing the entire Security Bureau. He had also been Vela's late father's superior.

Vela's "uncle"—the same man who had helped her manage her "inheritance."

As Arasaka's largest, most well-known, and most vital division, the Security Division didn't usually have an official Director. The board directly appointed its top officer, typically granting the rank of Deputy Director to those in charge of specific domains.

Unless you were pureblood from the Tokyo Arasaka estate, it was almost impossible for an outsider to reach the Director's seat.

"Hahaha..."

Vela's tone—warm yet respectful—put a sincerely pleased smile on James Thomas' subtly cyber-modified face. He nodded repeatedly, just like an elder admiring an exceptional junior.

"Then I'll look forward to your stash. Fred always had a special fondness for top-shelf liquor. Didn't drink much, but he loved collecting it," Thomas said with a chuckle.

After the light pleasantries, his tone sharpened.

"Captain Vela Adelheid Russell, your promotion has been approved in Tokyo. You did well in Brasília. In 30 minutes, the Night City Security Division's internal meeting will formally announce the news—effective immediately upon announcement. Congratulations, Vela. Fred and Mia would be proud."

"Thank you, Director Thomas."

Vela let her face show a subtle mix of excitement and restraint, standing up respectfully. "Thank you for your support."

"No need for that. You've earned it. Arasaka rewards competence. The meeting starts in 29 minutes. Be on time."

Beep-beep.

The call ended.

Vela let the carefully managed expression on her face melt away. She downed the rest of her drink and collapsed into her chair.

"Hoo..." Not a bad return on all those times I called him 'Uncle'. Working Arasaka isn't that different from navigating government bureaucracy. Especially in divisions influenced by Japan—the importance of bloodline, backing, pedigree, and connections couldn't be more obvious.

She took a deep breath.

You had to admit—networking paid off.

Even in the viper's nest that was Arasaka, as long as you consistently delivered value and climbed the ladder, you could actually thrive.

Of course, failure would mean a very different fate.

Take the New American President Rosalind Myers. She started her political career during her time in the Marine Corps, got picked up by Militech, and rose through sheer competence to be chosen as successor to their CEO—eventually becoming president.

That kind of path didn't exist at Arasaka, but still, she counted as one of Vela's predecessors.

Someone to learn from…

Vela spent the next thirty minutes quietly handling a few routine reports submitted by members of Unit 6.

Then—beep beep.

Internal meeting notification.

Vela lowered the wall divider, and several holographic projectors formed the outline of a roundtable meeting.

One by one, high-ranking members of the Security Bureau appeared in the projection seats. James Thomas, Deputy Director of Security, took the central spot. Officers from other Special Assault Units, Mobile Units, Heavy Armor Division, Rescue Division, Disaster Response (Hazmat), Security Guards (general corporate security), and Personal Protection (bodyguards) filled the room.

An older man, bald, sharp-eyed, his body marked with prominent cybernetic seams, looked directly at her. Vela's internal comm implant pinged. Upon answering, his voice came through.

"Commander Russell, congratulations."

He looked the oldest of anyone present, and Vela knew better than to underestimate him.

"Mr. Ram," she greeted. Great. Another familiar face—an old acquaintance of her late father.

It was no secret that many Arasaka insiders grumbled behind closed doors that Commander Adelheid's career path in Night City's Security Division was more like returning home to collect an inheritance.

And the man she was replacing in this promotion… was likely him.

Director of the Special Assault Unit.

Vela glanced at Ram's noticeably thinner upper limbs. It was obvious—his combat cyberware had been removed. The reason was simple: his body had hit its limit.

His nerves could no longer handle high-intensity combat. Any further, and he'd cross into cyberpsychosis. Before that could happen, the company's safety and maintenance team forcibly dismantled his combat mods to reduce the load.

Mr. Ram had served Arasaka for over twenty years.

"Trying to comfort me, little Vela? Haha... Instead of that, why not channel your energy into your beloved biotech research? Fred raised a fine daughter... And I never thanked you, Vela. That prototype improved suppressant you recovered from Old Net salvage saved my life."

Ram's gaze burned into Vela.

Vela simply smiled back, saying nothing.

Let them misunderstand.

Let them continue believing the story that "Vela joined the Security Division to inherit her parents' role, and biotech is just her hobby."

"Alright."

Finally, James Thomas, Deputy Director of Security, cut through the murmuring.

"I won't repeat the old praises about the Brasília operation. Vela Adelheid Russell is hereby promoted from Deputy Security Chief to Head of the Special Assault Unit. With her new rank as Security Chief, she will participate in internal management affairs of the Security Bureau."

"Arasaka Corporation Global HQ Tokyo: Order issued. Effective immediately."

...

The meeting ended quickly.

After all, everyone had their duties and assigned zones. This was just a promotion announcement, not a new commander being dropped in—it didn't take long.

Vela glanced at her updated personnel file and new clearance level on the office terminal, smiling faintly.

Beep beep—

A new unread message popped up.

Sender: Arasaka Transportation Authority – Night City

Dear Security Chief Vela Adelheid Russell,

Please visit our office at your convenience to pay administrative fees and collect your Rayfield Excalibur.

Her personal hovercar had arrived.

But before that…

Vela left her office, carrying a bottle of champagne, and led her two bodyguards down to the reception hall on the first floor of Arasaka Tower. From there, she walked toward the Arasaka Memorial just outside the main lobby.

In addition to commemorating the 2023 nuclear bombing, this monument also honored Arasaka's 2069 return-to-Night-City operation. Her birth parents' names were etched into its surface.

Disregarding the cost of the Paradise Champagne, Vela found the section bearing their names. She silently poured the champagne onto the stone. When half the bottle remained, she paused, downed the rest in one smooth motion, set the empty bottle before the monument, stood straight, and bowed her head.

Her two bodyguards stood watch nearby.

In the slanting light of the setting sun, from behind Arasaka Tower's towering insulated glass facade, a shadow quietly observed the scene in silence.