Restless.
Irritated.
As if her senses and perception could transcend time and space, Vela could clearly feel the emotions of another "her"—or rather, her own emotions at this moment.
A blazing anger rising from the heart, a fury growing bold. A seething rage.
Brought forth by her "Divine Gift."
Not so much an influence—as the influence itself.
And in the midst of that restlessness—
Crack!Crack!
Inside the armored AV, Vela opened her fingers, clenched them, and released. The bones and joints beneath her tactical gloves creaked softly. She could distinctly feel the minute changes in her bones, flesh, and cybernetic implants.
That feeling of power surging and amplifying.
Her "Divine Gift."
The higher the degree of resonance with her other "selves," the greater the amplification it provided.
"Am I some kind of monkey-edition multiversal lifeform?"
That layered resonance of soul and thought brought back memories of the moment she "awakened."
At the time, her body's parents had just passed away. Having only just entered Arasaka Academy, she still hadn't figured out what was happening to her.
Come to think of it, ever since arriving in this world, she'd never once heard any system chimes or seen any materialized companion items.
From childhood, as her body matured and her brain developed, Vela simply noticed that her memory far surpassed what it had been in her previous life.
Her brain processed information rapidly, with lightning-fast neural responses, near-photographic memory, and crystal-clear recall. Before her biological parents' deaths, she had grown up healthy—free from illness or any physical defects.
Her adoptive parents often marveled at how easy she was to raise.
Vela had even joked to herself back then—maybe it was the fusion of two souls, and that second round of spiritual growth had enhanced her.
This was her transmigration benefit—her so-called cheat.
And Vela was quite satisfied.
With early maturity and self-awareness, she developed unparalleled learning ability. She mastered anything she studied quickly.
Her parents' constant absence—even going a year without seeing them—didn't bother her. She was perfectly fine on her own.
She even strived to live up to their expectations.
Even realizing she had awakened in a cyberpunk world, a place of high technology and low quality of life, didn't faze her. She had the shelter of her parents.
She learned her city was called Night City—a dump full of gang violence, rampant illegal drugs, and military-grade cyberware on every corner, where the dead were used to run the lottery.
With her strong survival instincts, Vela quickly gave up any notion of venturing out to explore the unknown.
Her life mattered!
She wouldn't gamble on a cyberpsycho's rationality.
What if being a little girl made her even more of a target?
Her life was her own. Probably her only one. With such a fortunate reincarnation, she needed to treasure it.
She had no system that would execute her for failing a mission, no mission prompts, no completion rewards. She was just a slightly smarter girl—no godlike powers gathered within her.
So she chose to proceed step by step.
In short: she had no sense of urgency.
Whatever her parents told her to learn, she learned. Whatever they asked her to do, she did. If she was curious, she asked permission first. She always performed well—one of those "model children."
Back then, the suffocating weight of the cyberpunk world, the coldness of Night City, and the struggles of its underclass hadn't yet revealed themselves to her.
Mostly, she experienced the convenience and entertainment that came with rapid technological advancement.
She had the luxury of following the expected path, growing up as the well-behaved child her parents wanted.
Walking the smooth road they laid out. Taking over their mantle. No rebellious phase.
She wasn't born in "Rome," but she was on a gilded road that led there.
Until Vela lost the ones who sheltered her from the storm.
Until she had no more room to breathe...
Then, passively, she had to get serious.
She had to face the brutal reality of the cyberpunk world head-on.
During that period, some tried to seize her inherited assets through "legitimate means," some schemed to con and drain her dry, and some even wanted to marry her—to claim her parents' "political legacy" and, incidentally, pin her to a bed.
Naturally, Vela wasn't having any of it.
She might be cautious and value her life, but that didn't mean she was a coward.
She chose to resist.
She shed her obedient-girl image, handled her parents' funeral, properly entrusted their "legacy," and threw herself into Arasaka Academy, pushing herself into a frenzy of study.
Maybe that was when her body and mind truly matured. Maybe it was the full fusion of soul and flesh. Or maybe just a shift in mindset.
Vela began to have strange dreams.
The deeper they went, the more those "dreams" relaxed her—calm and peaceful. Eventually, she saw the world within them clearly.
It was as if she lived another life in another world. It felt utterly real—she had full sensory perception, could act freely, and do exactly as she thought.
Time passed. Vela realized she remembered everything from those dreams with perfect clarity. Back in Arasaka Academy, nothing outwardly changed, but her body surged with growing strength, her thoughts grew ever sharper.
It wasn't a dream.
By now, Vela was used to the dual vision—to the presence of another "me."
Two minds, two perspectives, each rooted in their own reality, yet perfectly fused and coexisting. It felt completely natural. Vela experienced no discomfort. Every time she thought something, her self in Umbrella would act on it.
It was like controlling another self in a roleplaying game.
Only this roleplayer could perfectly experience the joys and sorrows of that world, acquire its knowledge, techniques, and insights, and absorb everything it had to offer.
"The power of two Velas."
That's how she jokingly referred to her ability.
Even if both Velas were just ordinary humans, stacked together they already exceeded the limits of the human body. And there were many ways to grow stronger.
So where was the third Vela?
Vela longed to find out.
But for now, the most important thing was:
To vent.
"Chief Russell, we've arrived."
At 4:09 PM, Vela's Arasaka armored AV arrived at the old district of the Northern Industrial Zone of Night City.
Hovering at the street corner above, in response to Vela's order, a second armored AV from Special Assault Unit 2 had already arrived from the Night City Arasaka garrison.
Boom!
The turret rotated downward. The hovering Arasaka AV at the intersection activated its searchlights, and crimson laser beams swept across the street to carve out a massive landing zone. Wyvern attack drones and Octant heavy combat drones rumbled around the perimeter.
The cabin door whooshed open.
Thud thud thud—!
From within, packed tightly, Arasaka heavy soldiers leapt out in unison, landing with a thunderous crash.
"Sh*t! Something big's going down!"
"Move, move!"
"It's Arasaka heavy troopers!"
...
Sensing something terrible was about to happen, pedestrians scattered instantly. Wait for the light? Forget it—survival came first!
Thud!
Shing—!
Upon landing, Vela flexed her precision-forged thermal katana and urban-combat-configured smart shotgun. Her heavy ballistic helmet sealed shut, and her crimson holo-tactical visor lit up.
Meanwhile, across space and time...
San Francisco, Umbrella Tower, press conference hall.
Surrounded by thick-necked black-suited bodyguards, Umbrella Director Vela stood at the podium with a face like her father just died.
From the audience:
"Director Russell, why did you choose to destroy nature, our shared home, even after receiving our joint petition? Do you want future generations to live in a cold, greenless world devoid of animals?"
"Director Russell, reports say equality organizations in San Francisco plan to sue you and Umbrella for allegedly racist hiring practices. How will you respond?"
"Director Russell, synthetic limbs and organs replacing God-given flesh—what do you say to the Church's condemnation?"
"Director Russell—"
...
With every question, negative emotions surged. And here, across spacetime, Vela's breathing under the helmet grew heavier.
"Hoo... Still need to work on my emotional control."
Since the 'me' in the other world couldn't vent...
Then 'I' would.
Legally. Legitimately.
"Purge and clearance mission: begin."
Slaughter time.