Chapter 15: Formal Meeting

Chapter 15: Formal Meeting

The office behind Cloudtop was drenched in decadence—gold-accented furniture, marble floors, and an aroma of high-end cigars. Seated behind a massive desk was Forrest, a tall man with the dead-eyed calm of someone who'd seen too much. He was buried in his work, but his ears were always listening.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in," Forrest said without looking up.

Two large bodyguards stepped in, dragging V between them. Her jaw was tight, fury simmering in her eyes.

"You two can leave," Forrest ordered with a dismissive wave. Once the door clicked shut, he finally looked up. "Anger's natural, but pointless. Unless you have a good reason to be here, you're wasting both our time."

He lit a cigar, exhaled slowly, then narrowed his eyes. "So… what do you want with Evelyn Parker?"

"She's my friend. I haven't heard from her in a while, so I came to ask." V tried to suppress her rage, her voice flat but firm.

Forrest raised an eyebrow. "Then you're in the wrong place. She's not here."

"Sweetheart told me—"

"She's just a doll. Dolls say a lot of things," Forrest cut in smoothly. "You think I've got time to micromanage every little thing? Evelyn was popular here—very popular. I lost a good chunk of eddies when she vanished. If you find her, convince her to return."

V narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were going to attack me. That whole charade with the guards, the tension…"

"Attack you?" Forrest let out a dry chuckle. "You're a client. Have you ever seen a club like Cloudtop willingly harm its clientele? That'd be bad for business."

"What about Sweetheart?"

"She broke contract. We had every right to act. If it disturbed you, we'll compensate. VIP access—on the house."

V sneered. "How generous."

"I aim to please," Forrest smiled, rising from his seat. "If there's nothing else, you can show yourself out."

V gave him one last glare, committing every detail of his smug face to memory. Forrest, however, had already moved on. In his eyes, someone with less than thirty percent chrome wasn't even worth cataloging.

---

Outside Cloudtop, the sun dipped behind the monoliths of Night City. Judy was pacing like a caged animal.

When she spotted V exiting under security escort, she rushed up. "Well? Anything?"

"Not much," V muttered, giving a clipped version of the meeting.

Judy clenched her fists. "Bullshit. He knows where she is."

V nodded slightly. Of course he did. What kind of boss doesn't know what goes on in his own den?

"We need another angle," Judy said, her voice steel. "We'll dig deeper."

"It's not gonna be easy," V replied. The encounter had left her with a bitter taste. She needed to be stronger. Smarter. Richer. The city didn't hand out justice. You had to rip it from its jaws. She wanted to rise—no, ascend—and become a legend in this neon jungle.

Judy placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. I'll keep digging. Just… wait for my word."

V nodded. "I'll be ready."

---

Two days later — Watson District, Little Chinatown

"Thanks, Viktor. Seriously. I owe you."

V sat up on the ripperdoc's surgical table, testing out her newly repaired arm. The job she pulled on a Maelstrom stash house had nearly turned her into scrap, but it also netted her enough to get patched up.

She couldn't bring herself to rob civilians—yet—but gangsters were fair game. Better yet, they were profitable.

To keep up with the rising stakes, she even took out a loan to get a metal lung installed. Now, if her chest got caved in, she'd at least have a fighting chance.

"We're friends, V. Just don't die before you pay me back," Viktor said with a tired grin, cleaning off his tools. Most ripperdocs didn't offer credit—too many corpses, too few repayments.

V stretched and grabbed a beer. "Judy got a lead on Evelyn. Asked me to meet her."

In Night City, surgery was routine—like brushing your teeth. If your system accepted chrome, great. If not? Madness, paralysis, or death.

"Be careful out there," Viktor warned. V was also hunting for meds to help Jack, but options were drying up. And Dexter? That bastard was still on her trail. She'd stirred a hornet's nest and now had to dodge every sting.

Compared to Arasaka's vast shadow, Dexter's vendetta was personal. But the corp didn't know her face. She made sure of that.

That's why there was no bounty. Not yet.

Knock. Knock.

Their conversation halted. The clinic door creaked open.

A man entered casually, followed by a silent, imposing woman. "Door wasn't locked," the man said with a grin. "Didn't mean to intrude."

Viktor studied them. The woman moved like a specter—silent, watchful. The man smiled like he owned the world.

"Finished a procedure," Viktor replied. "You need something?"

"Actually, yes." The man gestured toward the woman. "She needs a specialist. Can you make a house call?"

"I just finished surgery," Viktor replied cautiously. "Might need a breather."

"No problem," the man replied. "We'll return in two hours. Sandayu."

The woman—Sandayu Oda—stepped forward, placing a thick wad of eurodollars on the table.

"Fifty thousand now. Another fifty after the operation—regardless of the outcome," the man said. "We're not hiring just anyone. We want the Viktor—legendary ripperdoc of Night City."

V looked at Viktor in surprise. Legend? She never imagined he had that kind of rep.

Viktor barely flinched. "Flattery'll get you a seat in the waiting room," he muttered.

Years of gritty work in back-alleys and underground fight clubs had honed him. Integrity was rare here, but he wore it like armor. That alone made him a legend in a city starving for something real.

As the pair turned to leave, the man—Ash—gave V a polite nod.

She recognized him instantly. That calm presence. The same man whose sniper had blown out her tire. His people were terrifyingly efficient. One of them could probably handle a Militech squad solo.

They left with a quiet bow.

V turned to speak but stopped. Viktor had raised a finger to his lips. Then he rushed to his desk, typed rapidly on a terminal. Surveillance feeds blinked back to life.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Now you can talk."

"What happened?"

"They killed my clinic's security. Every system. Gone in a blink," he said, lighting a cigarette with trembling fingers.

V's heart skipped. The clinic was in a basement. You had to get through two doors, a hallway, and a lobby. Viktor had locked it all.

And yet…

"They just walked in. Like it was nothing."

"That's the guy I told you about," V whispered. "Ash. And his people."

"You don't know the half of it," Viktor replied. "The woman with him—Sandayu—probably fried the security. That sniper? Likely his, too."

V was silent. She'd been hunted before—but Ash… Ash terrified her. His team didn't belong in Night City—they belonged above it.

"Don't worry. Even Arasaka doesn't have many like him," Viktor said knowingly. "If they did, they'd already own every block in this city."

"You sure he's Arasaka?"

"No doubt. And because he is, I have to do this house call," Viktor said. "They didn't threaten me. They came asking for help. That, in itself, says something."

He looked around his clinic. "And eddies keep the lights on. I take what I can."

V nodded slowly. "Then be careful, Vik."

He smiled softly. "I always am."