Chapter 41: Reaching an Agreement and the First Meeting with V

"Three years ago, Arasaka ran a covert project named 'Project Stelar' in a secret facility in Canada.
The project involved using a group of hackers, who bypassed the Canadian Netwatch gateway, to dive directly into the Old Net and mine its data.
The hackers they chose were all kids around my age—easy to manipulate, easy to control, and mostly orphans, meaning there were no consequences or ties to worry about.
And so, a bunch of children—the youngest ten, and the oldest only twelve—became the mining cards used to dig up Old Net data.
And I was one of them."
Mercer's words, coupled with his somewhat childish face, plunged Rogue into silence.
She quietly watched Mercer's face with complex emotions, and her previous irritable mood seemed to vanish entirely.
Mercer simply continued in a quiet tone:
"The project officially began a year ago, and in just over a year, half of our batch of hackers were killed by the rogue AIs constantly appearing in the Old Net.
I am one of the survivors.
A month ago, we encountered a very powerful AI in the Old Net—Alt Cunningham."
Mercer spoke with a mix of truth and fabrication, omitting the details regarding Bartmoss and Spider Murphy.
"It was the appearance of Alt Cunningham that gave me the opportunity to escape from there.
Alt's emergence caused the Arasaka servers to overload and attracted attention. The upper management deemed the consumption and return of 'Project Stelar' disproportionate, so they dismissed the original project director.
The newly appointed project director was ambitious. She set her sights on the rogue AIs, hoping to use the Relic chip to capture Arasaka's old enemy, Alt Cunningham.
The result was obvious... they wanted to use the Soulkiller program to capture the creator of Soulkiller? What a joke.
I struck a deal with Alt, and with her help, I took over the servers of the Arasaka facility, killed all the guards, and escaped from that place.
While looting the data and the precious Relic chips on the way out, I also learned the whole truth from Alt."
Mercer's words left Rogue silent. Eventually, she said with mixed emotions, "Alt actually started using a child? That's..."
"Ha, you could hardly call it exploitation. It was mutual assistance."
Mercer smiled slightly, then went on:
"So, by now you should understand that I am not just talking nonsense.
If you don't believe me, you can use your own connections to investigate what happened at the Arasaka facility in the suburbs of Vancouver, Canada.
A lot of people died that day, and I imagine the commotion was quite significant. As long as your sources are reliable, you should be able to verify at least some of what I've said."
"...Aren't you afraid I'll turn around and sell you out to Arasaka?"
Rogue stared at Mercer.
Mercer merely shrugged:
"Then that would mean I misjudged my person. But I like to think...
The woman who stormed Arasaka alongside Johnny Silverhand back in the day hasn't grown so fragile with age that she's turned into a coward who only knows how to bow and scrape to corporations.
Weren't you curious about why I came to Night City?
I can tell you explicitly right now... The reason I came here is to finish what you guys left undone back then!"
A resolute light flashed in his eyes as he met the gaze of Night City's legendary Queen without backing down, his tone solemn:
"I am going to burn this filthy city down to ashes! I'm going to set this city ablaze and bring a new hope to this world...
The hope of freedom!"
Rogue rubbed her brow, feeling a mix of irritation and exhaustion. Looking at the radiance blooming on Mercer's face, she felt as though she had been momentarily pulled back to her youth.
Back then, she was young, standing in the crowd, watching Johnny Silverhand on stage, holding a guitar and screaming at the top of his lungs.
He screamed in a raspy voice—even if it meant setting the entire city on fire, he would never let the corporations turn this place into a dead zone devoid of hope and freedom.
He... really was a fool.
And she, back then... was the exact same kind of fool.
"Ha... The Johnny Silverhand of the old days isn't even dead yet, and now the city has gained an underage terrorist... Damn it all."
Rogue lit a cigarette once more, but this time, the hard edge in her eyes was gone. The look she cast toward Mercer held a trace of unspeakable tenderness.
Mercer's appearance brought back long-overdue thoughts of her own child.
"I'll look into it. Yorinobu Arasaka's private contacts aren't that easy to get ahold of... I'll contact you once I've sorted it out.
So, aside from this... you mentioned earlier that you had another job for me?"
Hearing this, Mercer nodded, put his mask back on, and said, "I need a new identity, a flawless fake identity that Arasaka won't be able to trace anytime soon.
I need someone to sneak into the Night City City Hall computer room for me, plug a virus chip into the server, and help me bypass the server's ICE.
After that, I'll modify Night City's household registration records myself from the net, and then I can openly operate as a local."
The reason Mercer didn't dare to hack directly from the net was his deep apprehension regarding Night City's hidden power, Night Corp.
He had checked the data online; the entire household registration system and public servers of Night City were built by Night Corp and Pyramid Technologies, both of which were riddled with traps.
The former, Night Corp, was currently very likely a puppet controlled by a rogue AI, or even a group of rogue AIs.
The latter, Pyramid Technologies, was tied to a certain troublemaker... yes, Bartmoss.
Rumor had it that Bartmoss founded Pyramid Technologies, and besides him being a living human, the actual management layer consisted entirely of AIs he created.
And now that Bartmoss was dead as well, it meant the entire Pyramid Technologies might be entirely run by AIs...
Mercer really didn't want to deal with AIs in the short term. Even Bartmoss—despite their brief conversation—gave Mercer the distinct impression that the guy was a bit unhinged...
Just like him.
Therefore, it was best to steer clear of entanglements wherever possible.
That was why Mercer chose an offline approach. He would load the virus program onto a chip, and once plugged into the server, the program would directly grant him server access.
Then he could safely and remotely modify the household registration details.
Uploading the program directly from inside the server was equivalent to bypassing network defense and spreading the virus locally. Even if an AI was present, as long as it failed to stop the chip from being inserted, it could only watch helplessly as the server was compromised.
If ordinary programs fell short, Mercer figured he could deploy *Deathwish* when necessary.
Otherwise, if Mercer had chosen a direct deep-dive and encountered an AI, even with *Deathwish*, his brain's processing power probably wouldn't match an AI backed by massive servers.
Even though the *Deathwish* program was formidable, it still required processing power to run and crack defenses.
Rogue thought for a moment, then said: "Two options. First, I'll get you the City Hall's shift schedule and floor plans, and you arrange your own people to do it.
Second, hand the chip over to me, and you don't need to worry about the rest; I'll find the most reliable people under my command to handle it.
For the first option, I won't charge you a dime—consider it payment for telling me Johnny is still alive.
For the second, I can waive my middleman commission for this job; you just need to pay the mercenaries an operation fee.
Probably... around fifty thousand eddies."
Curiously, Mercer asked, "At regular price, how much would a job like this usually cost you?"
"Twenty thousand for someone unfamiliar, fifteen thousand even for acquaintances." The price quoted by Rogue made Mercer click his tongue in amazement.
Middlemen really knew how to make money, huh?
"What? Think I'm making too much?"
Rogue let out a laugh, guessing his thoughts, and continued:
"That's because you don't understand the process.
First, as a middleman, I have to gather intel and sweep for mines—I need to verify if the client has any hidden agendas and ensure there are no dangers beyond what the client disclosed.
Then, I have to prepare mission briefs and figure out the difficulty.
Next, I have to coordinate personnel and find the most suitable mercenaries... Most of today's mercs are like idiots who only know how to run in with guns blazing.
So to keep them from messing things up, I sometimes have to provide detailed action plans, match the difficulty properly, and even consider whether a mercenary's personality suits a specific task.
Arranging an entire operation from start to finish, including extraction, is a hell of a lot harder than just rushing in with a gun."
Finally, Rogue paused and said, "Connections, resources, intelligence, and planning—that's why I'm worth this much."
Mercer nodded, then looked at Rogue with a grin: "Looking at it that way, you're actually pretty reliable, huh?"
Definitely better than some clueless middleman who didn't even know what they were supposed to be stealing.
Rogue chuckled and couldn't be bothered to dignify that with a response: "So, which one?"
"The first one. If that doesn't pan out, I'll come back to you for the second option."
Mercer made his decision.
He wanted to test this job out on his own people—V, I choose you!
Give her five thousand eddies, and she'd probably be grinning ear to ear, thinking she struck gold.
"Fine, I'll send you the intel once I have it," Rogue said briskly. "Anything else?"
"Does hanging my shingle with you count? If you have any suitable gigs later, you can bring them my way. My rates aren't cheap, but I always deliver solid work."
Mercer's attitude abruptly turned enthusiastic, pitching himself hard:
"I can provide netrunning, real-time net support, software development and design, ICE development and cracking... Honestly, ninety-nine percent of the hackers in Night City are trash in my eyes.
You can think of me as a combination of Bartmoss and Alt from 2070—don't look at me like that, I'm not blowing smoke, buddy is a genuine genius!
Would you believe I could hack your bar's server right now with my eyes open?"
Mercer talked big without even batting an eye.
Rogue was amused by him: "Hah, a combination of Bartmoss and Alt... Are you some rogue AI they cooked up together?
Alright, I get it. I'll contact you if a suitable gig pops up, but the first job won't be too hard—we'll take it step by step to test your skills."
Did today's kids really know how terrifying Bartmoss and Alt actually were?
Mercer nodded and kept right on chattering: "No problem! Besides, buddy isn't fighting alone.
I've got an elite driver from the Aldecaldos, and an upcoming combat merc.
I also have a netrunner who's slightly less skilled than me, but better than ninety-nine percent of the hackers you know, providing backup from behind the scenes.
Plus me, a hacking genius... Honestly, knowing me now is your lucky break. You're getting in on the angel round of investment."
"Alright, stop blowing smoke," Rogue said, shaking her head with a smile. "Got it. When I need a 'genius hacker' to step up, I'll consider prioritizing your 'crew'.
Just remember, next time you brag about how great your team is, make sure you actually bring them along.
In Night City, nobody's willing to invest in an empty promise."
Mercer grinned unabashedly: "Then let the results speak for themselves."
With that, he shoved his hands into his pockets and prepared to walk out, waving a hand at Rogue: "Waiting on your word."
"Mhm." Rogue watched his retreating figure, fell silent for a moment, and then suddenly spoke up: "Hey, kid."
Mercer stopped in his tracks and turned back to look.
"In this city, there's no shortage of guys who want to burn the whole world to ashes, but very few actually leave a name behind.
Compared to your grand dream, you look awfully green.
Consider this some advice from me—before you think about how to reduce this city to cinders... you need to see this city clearly, to feel this city.
Once you've truly lived in this city... then you can start worrying about whether to burn it or not."
After saying this, Rogue gazed at him with a calm expression: "Don't casually utter words whose weight you don't know, and don't wade into rivers whose depth you haven't tested.
Some words can't be taken back once spoken, and some things... once done, leave no way back."
Mercer simply nodded, tapped his mask, and replied: "I know, which is why I'm still wearing a mask. But... thanks, Rogue."
Rogue nodded, quietly watching him leave before slowly closing her eyes.
Those memories she thought she had forgotten surged back into her mind, wave after wave.
...
When Mercer returned to the bar's main hall, the first thing he saw was a pretty woman with a two-tone white undercut standing clumsily by the entrance, going around asking questions—or rather, looking for a fight?
"Do you know where A is?"
"Do you know A?"
"Whoa, buddy, aren't you that 'Bonecrusher'? Awesome, bro. I heard you smashed the bones of everyone in a Maelstrom hideout all by yourself. True or false?"
"I'm V! Remember that name, it's gonna be famous as hell."
"Bitch? You got a death wish or something? Back off, watch your mouth!"
"Stinking whore? I think you're just a fucking moron! Get horny every time you see a woman, huh?"
"Pipsqueak? Don't act all tough with those big chrome arms of yours, it's useless! I can rip your head off with one hand, dumbass!"
Hesitating for a moment, Mercer suddenly felt disinclined to walk over.
However, V's eyes were sharp as tacks. Despite Mercer's short stature, she picked him right out of the crowd in the bar at a single glance.
"A? Found you, you've got an 'A' painted right on your mask, couldn't be anyone else... But our business can wait a second, let me clean up here first."
Watching V shout out loud, then crack her knuckles and gear up to brawl with several mercenaries, Mercer covered his masked face and let out a deep sigh.
Dammit...
Why did this V... look so recklessly unhinged?