I enjoyed my first breath of fresh air in years the following morning – though “enjoyed” may be an overstatement. The truth was that I felt utterly terrified, betrayed, and hopeless. My life had quite literally changed overnight, going from a stable, though entirely draining corporate life to working for myself as quickly as I formulated this very thought in my head. It’s amazing just how dramatically fortunes can turn in this city.

  I heard stories about some terrorist group attacking Arasaka – bunch of edgerunners, apparently. Just my luck to get my skin out of the game. I would've been called upon to complete an assignment in which the illustrious Adam Smasher himself was said to have made an appearance. God forbid… that would've sucked. Still, amidst all the chaos and despair, Jackie and I saw fit to relax and calm our nerves a bit. Celebrate my one-year anniversary since my departure on some shitty couch in Kabuki. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I feel like we should do som’n to celebrate,” Jackie smiled as he draped his arms over the couch. I nuzzled myself close to his armpit and rested my head on his massive bicep in return. A fine, wholesome smile crept on my face. It's been far too long since I've felt so peaceful and safe.

  “Hm… Ramen,” I suggested, “I want to end the day fat and drunk.”

  “Spoken like a true noble, eh?” he returned my smile, “I think we can manage that.”

  –

  Bullet wound to the femoral artery, he was done… What about this one…

  “Hm, looks like he took three to the side. Punctured a kidney,” Jackie noted.

  “He’s slipping into shock… Doubt he has Trauma Team, either,” I lamented. Sadly we weren’t able to save everyone this time out. But at least he has a hand to hold during his final moments. That’s more than a lot of people in this city can say.

  “First it’s Maelstrom, now Tyger Claws?” Jackie scuffed, “Man, what is it with this fuckin’ neighborhood.”

  “This is literally the furthest point from NCPD you can get that isn’t Pacifica. Plenty of places to hide, too.”

  “Yeah but you’d think that they’d get the fuckin’ hint when we killed off most of ‘em.”

  “You’re missing the point, Jackie. All we did was kill their competition. Tyger Claws work for Arasaka. And guess who owns these docks.”

  “Fuck… Rapists. Thieves. Hate ‘em with a passion.”

  “Same,” I shrugged and got up off the ground, taking off my mask and rubbing the sweat off my brow, “Least killing them’s good business.”

  –

  “So who the heck is this Wakako chick?” Jackie asked me.

  “New fixer. Well, old fixer – very old. But new to us.”

  “So she sends us after some goon down in the belly of Old Japantown?” he complained, staring down an old parking lot likely filled with Tyger Claws just itching for a pounce.

  “Hey, we’re staying on the down-low. Can’t blame them for not trusting our reputation. Not like they know about my background, nor yours.”

  “Man, this is bullshit,” he moaned, “How many fuckin’ times we gotta be errand boys makin’ a few thousand here, few thousand there…”

  “Come on, that’s unbecoming of you. I’m still giving you my cut.”

  “Right, right. Sorry…”

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Eh, Maelstrom hit one of the Tinos’ diners last night. Killed about a dozen of ours.”

  “Fuck, again? You gonna hit ‘em back?”

  “Nah, not a Valentino no more,” he shook his head, “Gotta keep my eye on the ball.”

  “Smart man,” I lightly punched his shoulder, “Now let’s go get a paycheck.”

  –

  “Fuck else is there to do in winter? Come on, letchyour hair down for once!” Jackie shouted over the blaring synthpop.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Jackie, you know I don’t like dancing in public!”

  “Yet you always said you wanted to be a dancer, so les’see you fuckin’ dance, chica!”

  “Heh, Jack, don’t push it!” I laughed. The club’s blacklights revealed a kaleidoscope of colors on the strippers, boasting tattoos with special pigments that changed colors depending on the light range.

  “Y’know, you wore a real nice red dress out, whatcha gonna do if not loosen it up a little? C’mon, least find yourself a girl to take home!” he teased. Honestly not a bad idea, though it still puzzled me why he chose to blow half the last job’s earnings on what amounted to a night-long bender. Poor bastard never could make good financial decisions. Still, I had to admit that he had some decent taste in nightclubs. This one was on the smaller side, sure, but it was still quite nice, and the eye candy was exquisite.

  –

  “Got the feeling you never told me the whole story behind why you got this car.”

  “Miyoko? Okay, as your sister, I swear to you I did. I mean, it’s not exactly complicated. Was my mother’s car, she never drove it, so I figured why bother just leaving it around to rot in the garage until the rest of time.”

  “Yeah but she has, like, a shit-ton of cars, no?”

  “She does, she collects them.”

  “So why this one?”

  "Because it's peppy, I dunno."

  “Nah, you know that ain’t what I meant.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m just, well…”

  “Not comfortable talkin’ about it?” he grumbled.

  “Not really.”

  “Why not? You know, people who’ve known each other a while oughta get to share shit like that.”

  “Yeah,” I shrugged, “It’s just… not something I’m proud of, okay? I remember on the trip over, just thinking to myself what it’d be like to see items that belonged to the family for hundreds of years suddenly disappear, and… yeah, I did that. And I have to live with it.”

  “I guess,” he rolled his eyes, “Least you’re takin’ good care of it, and the swords, too. Better than a lotta people can say ‘bout similar shit.”

  “Like you, I take family very seriously.”

  “Mm, I get it,” he nodded, “Thanks, V.”

  “For what?”

  “Openin’ up… well, okay, you didn’t really open up, but it’s a start.”

  –

  I write in this journal now to detail my feelings on the past eighteen months. And to think that we went from August 2075 to March 2077 – what is that? Erase… Nineteen months… – without so much as earning Arasaka’s ire. I’ve actually driven past AHQ on no less than three occasions, almost not recognizing the building anymore. Naturally Jackie and I continued to do what we did best in the meantime – earn money as a pair of partners-in-crime. Or, perhaps, vigilantes is a more appropriate term. The way we see it, this is a twofold operation. First is earning enough money for our own goals, second is absolution from our own grievances. We both did so many bad things in our lives. We killed, robbed, deceived, and dishonored ourselves. Now's our chance to do better. To leave the world in a better state than when we first entered.

  Part of me still seeks some form of vengeance on my former employers, of that I haven’t any doubt. I found it harder to sleep at night ever since I left. For the longest time I believed that my life was spiraling out of control, that I would never be able to shoulder the burdens of my own sins. Part of me was envious of how aloof Jackie seemed to be regarding our situation, considering I was still technically a fugitive wanted by the most powerful corporation in the world.

  Although, as I reflected upon that sentence, I couldn’t help but shake the notion that perhaps I may never meet with such a fate. I’ve certainly been quite visible, despite our relative no-name status. Originally I wanted us to keep it that way, seeing as the last thing I wanted was an Arasaka black-ops team showing up at El Coyote Cojo one day. But that day never came. Six months went by. Nine. A year. Now a year and a half.

  I have fought in numerous battles for Arasaka and know intimately of the company’s tactics. I know the layout of the Benkei Island Training Facility, and the location of the Hokkaido Camp. I know of some sort of top-secret project to supposedly weaponize Soulkiller in the modern age. I have knowledge of mass-drivers in dark sites on the Moon. I can recite the names of half our field agents by memory. I could divulge that the access codes to B06 level housing our Netrunner facilities are kept on our mainframe computer, and its code is the birthdays of Saburo, Michiko, and Hanako Arasaka interwoven with each other. Yet I am still alive. Why, I don't know, exactly. Perhaps they simply do not wish to dig up old grudges. Who can say what goes on in the minds of those sitting in the 130th floor, or if I was even on their radar at all.

  Part of me believes that, should I walk right through that office door again, I would be welcomed back with open arms, or at least have my Captain’s rank reinstated before being honorably discharged on the way out. I heard through my old contacts that my assistant, Carter, leaked Jenkins’ scheme and got himself killed. It’s said that there was some sort of correspondence between him and Abernathy after the fact which led to him throwing himself off a bridge. A pity; he wasn't a bad kid.

  Some people think that my old office building is haunted, ridiculous as it is to write that sentence. That if you fail at your job, the ghost of a man split in two would punish you for your misdeeds. In this case, that man took the form of Abernathy, whom I’m sure pressured Carter into committing suicide due to his “dishonor” of normal procedures. Whereas I never did anything wrong; I was merely an instrument. Perhaps that is why I’m still here and neither Jenkins nor Carter are. I was never disloyal. Nor do I openly plan to be. Whether or not I agree with Arasaka’s methods, I still owe the company so much; I cannot betray it in good conscience. Individual employees – that’s another story, and I will gladly bury Abernathy should we ever meet again.

  But what’s most important is what’s in front of me now. Jackie and I have enjoyed many long, fruitful months together. I now outright own my own apartment in Watson – figured it’s high-time I spent some of my savings for a change. Additionally, I’m sending Biotechnica a genetic sample so I can have natural eyes installed. I’ve always dreamt what the world must look like through an unfettered, unfiltered lens. No advertisements, no superfluous displays, and natural lighting without automatic tinting. Of course, I'll still have to figure out a way to watch footage, BD scrolls, all that. Maybe smart contacts. I want to make sure I retain enough functionality to see our way to our respective retirements. Mine is on the horizon, Jackie’s less-so. Nevertheless, even if I didn’t owe him my life, I find myself more than happy to help. As a friend, a brother, and a business partner alike. He kept my head pointed forward for many years, the least I can do is return the favor. He deserves it, Misty deserves it, and I’m all too happy to oblige them.

  Aliases: Valerie Tokai, Val, V

  Birthplace: Yokosuka, Kanto, Japan

  Citizenship: Japanese

  Residences: Yokosuka (former); City Center, Night City (former); Heywood, Night City; Watson, Night City

  Spoken languages: Japanese (native), English, Spanish, Italian (intermediate), French (novice)

  Occupations: Commissioned Officer, Arasaka Security Services (former); Counterintelligence Division Section Chief, Arasaka Night City (former); freelance mercenary

  Allegiances: Yamato Dynasty (by birthright), Arasaka (former), NUSA (falsified), Snake Nation (falsified)

  Noble Clan: Soga

  Education: Arasaka Academy Tokyo, socio-cultural focus (incomplete); Arasaka Hokkaido Military Camp (completed 2065), Benkei Island Training Facility Officer's School (completed 2071)

  Military Rank: Captain

  Notable Awards and Honors: Golden Army Swordsmanship Proficiency Badge (1st Class), Order of the Golden Kite (4th Class), Order of the Rising Sun (5th Class), Metal War Distinguished Service Ribbon (3rd Class)

  Likes: Swordfighting, meditation, individualism, driving, dancing, swimming, tea, ramen

  Dislikes: Fire, smoking, collectivism, Militech, exploitation, excessive cyberware (self only), being called a "ninja"