V disconnected the call with McCoy.
"Got a job lined up, yeah. You're smuggling something into Night City. Your contact's already waitin' at the border — goes by the name Jackie Welles."
McCoy's voice came through rough and dry as ever.
"Streetkid-turned-solo, real loudmouth. Said he'll be waitin' on the other side. Don't screw it up, V. Border patrol's already been jumpy lately."
"Copy that."
V shut the comm and stood still for a second, the dust around the antenna whipping in the breeze. He flexed his arms.
"Let's see what these mods can really do…"
He tried switching from Gorilla Arms to Mantis Blades. Instead of a swap... the arm transformed.
First the blunt power plating of Gorilla Arms, then the razor shimmer of the mantis blades, followed by a brief pulse as hidden Launcher ports rotated into place. And from beneath his wrist, a Monowire filament snaked out like a whip, then recoiled.
"What the hell...?"
No HUD pop-ups. No error messages.
Just one line:
MILITARY CUSTOM ARMS – Codename: GOD HANDS
Prototype: Reconfigurable multi-system cyberarm with internal auto-adaptive firmware
"You can't equip four arms at once? So I installed one that can do it all…"
He rolled up his sleeves. The skin was a masterpiece: self-healing nano-weave, military-grade camouflage, five-in-one merged plating that shimmered subtly with every move.
Optical camo ✔️
Nano-repair ✔️
Custom firmware ✔️
Absolute unit ✔️
Then he activated Berserk — muscles swelling, skin hardening — and without delay, flicked on Sandevistan. Time slowed.
"They work together? No conflict?"
Everything was fluid. No crashes. No overheating. Just perfect sync.
Even his hacks — RAM usage near-zero, execution nearly instant — felt like second nature. Someone had reprogrammed the laws of this world just for him.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
He thought of his family again.
"I miss them… But they'll be taken care of. Insurance will cover everything. My wife'll be strong. My kids will be safe. Even if I'm dead back there, I'll live on here."
He sighed, whispered a quiet thank-you to the life he left behind, then got into his car. The engine roared.
Next stop: Night City Border Crossing.
And a meeting with one Jackie Welles.
The sun hung low over the Badlands as V pulled up to the checkpoint — the main artery leading into Night City.
A bulky, bearded man stood near a Thorton beside the border office.
Jackie Welles.
He glanced up, hands in his pockets, sizing up V's vehicle, then V himself.
"You the one McCoy said was comin'?"
V smiled. Big, relaxed. Like this was a vacation.
"That's me. And you're Jackie."
"Damn right I am. Jackie Welles — professional troublemaker."
"This the ride?"
"Yeah. She runs smooth. Better than she looks."
"Heh. Figures. Nomads and their machines. You fix her up yourself?"
"In less than two minutes."
Jackie gave a low whistle.
"You sound way too happy for someone about to cross the border with illegal cargo."
"Well, I don't get to smuggle black market goods with strangers every day."
"...You alright in the head, vato?"
They laughed. No tension — just good vibes.
Jackie loaded the cargo into the back. V didn't ask about the contents. Didn't care.
Inside the checkpoint office, the air was stale, filled with the low hum of aging tech and old tension.
V stepped up to the counter, casually dropping his forged documents. The border officer, a grumpy ex-corp stiff with tired eyes, scanned them with minimal interest.
"Name?"
"V."
"Purpose of your visit?"
"Business. Meeting someone in the city."
The officer narrowed his eyes.
"Cargo?"
"Tightly sealed, doesn't bite."
The officer sighed and leaned in. V's Kiroshi optics did their thing, passively sweeping the guy's data.
Name: Mason Eckhart
Ex-Militech Compliance Analyst
Discharged for accepting bribes
Still doing favors for his old handler: Harlan Creed
Monthly "ghost" payments traced to Militech's black budget
V smiled gently. Not threatening. Just calm. In control.
"Mason... I know you've got mouths to feed. This job's gotta be hard."
The officer blinked.
"Excuse me?"
V slid a credchip across the table — ₿5,000, clean.
"This isn't a bribe. It's a tip. For not asking stupid questions, and for doing your job with respect."
The officer stared at the chip, stunned. His hand hovered over it, like it might bite.
"Why... why are you giving me this?"
"Because I don't need to threaten you to get what I want. I'm not here to make enemies. You've already had a long day."
Mason hesitated… then quietly took the chip.
His demeanor shifted entirely. Face relaxed. Shoulders dropped.
"Thank you... sir. Everything's in order. You're clear to pass."
"Good man."
Back at the car, Jackie leaned against the hood, arms crossed.
"That took a while. Don't tell me he gave you shit."
"Nah," V smirked. "I gave him money."
"Wait… what? You tipped the border guy?"
"Yeah."
"You rich or just dumb?"
"Does it matter? We're through, aren't we?"
Jackie laughed.
"You're a weird one, vato. But I think I like you."
The Galena rolled through the checkpoint without a hiccup. No sirens. No suspicious looks. Just the open road and the glowing outline of Night City ahead.