After a quick shower at her Westbrook home and a taste of the healthy breakfast prepared by her robotic chef, Vela, as usual, rode her AV to the Corporate Plaza and entered the landing pad within Arasaka Tower.
Vmmm... vmmm...
As the landing struts touched down, Vela stepped out of her personally customized luxury AV, carrying her breakfast wrapped in an oiled paper bag. She glanced around the landing pad twice—yep, in terms of sheer bulk, her Rayfield Excalibur was definitely the most rugged-looking one here.
Upgraded armor plating, newly installed electronic countermeasure units, anti-intrusion daemons, detachable modular armor equipped with attack drones, an exterior bay for deploying armed robots, intelligent autocannons, micro honeycomb rocket pods...
But still, not enough.
Once she graduated from the University of Tokyo's Law Department, she'd get herself a Zetatech Octant-class heavy combat drone—on standby, ready to follow her anytime.
Thinking of that, Vela's lips curled into a faint smile—but she quickly pulled her thoughts back to focus.
"Commander Vela, here is the list of personnel randomly selected for this year's joint practicum activity with Arasaka Academy... The operatives have already departed. Please review."
The Arasaka Security Division administrator in charge of liaising with the academy had been waiting at the landing pad exit. He froze upon seeing Vela, then smoothly stepped up and followed behind her, holding out a handheld data terminal as he began his report.
"That'll do. Assign the practicum location to the mobile garrison camp in the Badlands. Let the students do a bit of target practice, stand guard for half a day, and get some exposure to the outside world and its drifters."
Vela casually skimmed the personnel list.
Tch. "Random selection"...
Yet every name had connections.
"No need for special treatment. Keep it standard. Oh, and tell the team—no death quotas. Don't give me any messes with actual casualties."
"Understood!"
The administrator responded promptly. Only after Vela had walked off did he look at the updated list she had just approved.
In addition to children of current Security Division staff—
Several more names had been added.
Katsuo Tanaka... Oh, from R&D, that Tanaka in charge of some testing project.
David Martinez.
Huh, never heard of him... Grades seem good though. A civilian genius?
[Personnel list approved]
[Send]
Beep.
Read.
...
Click.
Arriving on the Security Division's office floor, Vela made a few turns but didn't head straight to her own office. Instead, she walked toward the Deputy Director's office.
James Thomas.
A dark security checkpoint. Two automated turret guns hung on either side of the corridor, with a scanner in the center casting blue data lines as it scanned.
AI: [Visitor authentication complete and approved.]
"Uncle Thomas."
The automatic door opened, and Vela immediately saw James Thomas sitting on the couch, sipping coffee.
He wore a dark suit, impeccably tailored, with a silver chrysanthemum lapel pin overlaid with the Arasaka emblem on his tie—a symbol of his past service as a soldier. His hair was beginning to gray but remained neatly combed, giving him a stately appearance.
"Oh, it's Vela. Come in and have a seat..." He paused mid-sentence. "Huh... Vela, I almost didn't recognize you at first glance. Something good happen? Did you put on makeup today?"
Uh...
Vela knew her energy had been particularly vibrant since last night, but was it really that obvious?
"Ah, just a little makeup."
In truth, she hadn't put on any.
Carrying her oiled paper bag, she sat down confidently and, without hesitation, pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich and handed it over. "I tweaked the program for the Carolli household multifunction robot."
Vela called him "Uncle Thomas" instead of by his title, naturally a move to cultivate the relationship. With no conflict of interest, Thomas had no reason to brush her off. Accepting the sandwich with a smile, he started brewing coffee.
"In such a good mood—care to share? What's the good news?"
"My application for a spot in the University of Tokyo's Law Department got approved."
Thomas paused, then calmly handed over the freshly brewed coffee. "That's great news. Congratulations. When do you leave?"
"Next spring. I'll head out as soon as the new semester begins in Tokyo."
Thomas immediately understood Vela's purpose for the visit.
"And your post with the Special Assault Unit—what's the plan?"
"I'll continue overseeing it. These internal admission slots are more like night school—tougher to graduate, but highly flexible. While I'm enrolled, I recommend Jimmy, Unit 6's captain, as my interim assistant to help manage the Special Assault Unit."
...
Click.
As Vela exited the Deputy Director's office, she glanced at the bag of high-end hand-ground coffee beans now in her arms, raising an eyebrow.
A "gift" from James Thomas.
He'd ground it himself—supposedly without using a learning chip, having learned the process personally.
Rich people... they always had a taste for this kind of flair. Once chip-learning was the elite luxury; now, natural learning was the trend. The more time-consuming and labor-intensive, the better—they loved it.
Naturally, she accepted it. Just as he had accepted her sandwich.
The subtext was clear: "I've looked after your interests this time. In the future—when you're in power—look after mine and my people too." It was a simple exchange of interests.
Back in her office, Vela placed the coffee in the fridge and turned her attention to the interface on her terminal.
—Mail—
Sender: Biotech R&D Department [Night City]
Supervisor Russell, we must remind you that your Umbrella personal lab has been vacant for one month and seven days. Please fulfill your part-time duties.
Shhh…
Fingertips brushing the desk, Vela gave a sly smile.
Perfect. An excuse at last.
Time to shift focus to biotech research and product improvement.
Alright, other me—get the T-virus stock and accompanying virology research data.
...
Resident Evil World.
San Francisco, Umbrella Industrial Park.
While passionately introducing drone production specs to visiting Pentagon brass, the Director of Umbrella's Black Umbrella division, Vela, showed a faint look of exasperation.
"Ms. Russell, can we get a live demo?"
The general from the Pentagon hadn't noticed the flicker of expression on Vela's face. He'd clearly been persuaded by her presentation and was now showing interest in the practical application of drone tech.
"Of course."
She signaled the floor supervisor to hand over a few assembled drones to the Pentagon team and instructed one of the QA (Quality Assurance) staff to guide the American soldiers on how to operate them.
Amid a series of Oh My Gosh reactions, several combat-experienced soldiers expressed amazement at the drones' agility and reconnaissance clarity.
Seeing even the general take a turn at the controls, the Umbrella staff in the factory lit up—this deal was practically sealed!
Only Director Vela wore a contemplative expression.
It wasn't about the California facility.
It was:
"The Raccoon City incident—it's happening this summer."