"Hello, Chief Russell. I'm Marcus."
"Chief Russell, I'm Sugihara."
"I'm Hoyle."
...
Ordinary introductions, nothing more than formulaic greetings and pleasantries like those exchanged with every other guest. After a few minutes of polite small talk, Vela was escorted inside by Arasaka Academy's senior staff.
"Chief."
Responding to her orders, the bodyguard team Vela had stationed at the academy ahead of time joined up with her.
"Bryan. Laurie."
Her familiar guards—"Blackshade" Bryan and "Whiteshade" Laurie—took point and led the extra security personnel assigned after her promotion to automatically take control of local security.
Not that Vela really needed protection. Power aside, this was an Arasaka-run academy—not some random community college anyone could walk into. Still, having a proper escort had its uses. Sometimes, appearances did add value.
And so, flanked by bodyguards and subtly taking the center spot, Vela stepped into her so-called alma mater for the first time in over a year.
Full name: Arasaka Tower Academy, Night City—commonly referred to as Arasaka Academy.
Just like how Arasaka Tower wasn't unique to Night City, Arasaka Academy wasn't either.
Arasaka had regional HQs all over the world, and while they were nearly identical in structure, only the North American HQ in Night City, the European HQ in Paris, and the main HQ in Tokyo bore the name "Arasaka Tower."
Elsewhere, they were simply called "buildings."
Some had attached academies for employees' children. Some didn't. The "Tower" designation always marked a higher tier.
Tap tap—
Inside, vast green spaces filled with ornamental, natural flora proudly showcased Arasaka's power. Many Night City residents probably wouldn't see this many real plants in their entire lives.
As for Vela's feelings at the moment?
Nostalgia? Sentimentality?
Tch.
Vela had no such interest.
Back when she attended Arasaka Academy, her parents had just died. She went into full-on overdrive, grinding herself into the dirt to climb quickly, integrate fast, and secure the inheritance her adoptive parents left behind. There was no time for "campus atmosphere."
Besides, the academic vibe of 2074?
Ha. Ha. Ha...
Classes were AI-led. Teaching came via Braindance. Many courses were just chip-loads or direct data transfers.
As for student-teacher bonding or classmate friendships? Eh... maybe it existed. Vela had never seen it.
That old-school, face-to-face teaching model was nearly extinct in 2074's cyberpunk world. Only a few world-class institutions—like the University of Tokyo, Humboldt in Berlin, Sorbonne in Paris, Moscow State, or New America's UC Berkeley—still promoted it.
And their tuition? Out of reach for anyone broke.
Even a second-tier school like Arasaka Academy wasn't accessible to the average citizen unless their parents worked corporate and made a solid, stable salary.
Graduate and land a big corp job at Arasaka Tower? Dream on.
The social hierarchy was rigid, and within the academy, even more so.
In today's world, early education—kindergarten through high school—was a fantasy for the lower class. Community colleges, chaotic and mixed as they were, were the only places most could scrape together a bit of knowledge. And even that knowledge wasn't worth much anymore.
Want to self-study online? Dead end.
The Internet had been blown to bits by some so-called "God of Hackers." Now, it was all corporate intranets. No clearance? No access. Try diving into the Old Net for luck? Good luck surviving NetWatch's Blackwall. Even if you made it through, you'd likely get your brain fried by some roaming rogue AI.
Even if your parents were enlightened and sacrificed everything to get you into a formal academy, year one would show you the class gap: the ones with a foundation skipped levels through exams; the rest got stuck on basics. After evaluation, students were split up.
If you couldn't afford to keep up? Off to the "comprehensive" track.
What was "comprehensive"?
In high-sounding terms: comprehensive education designed to foster well-rounded development; the academy's strength lies in its broad curriculum.
In plain speech: nothing elite—just average. "Comprehensive" in name, ordinary in practice.
Arasaka Academy, as the top-ranked institution in Night City, of course offered cutting-edge instruction, even in-person courses on the bleeding edge of innovation. But those were reserved for the specialized faculties: Military-Governance & Law, Information & Intelligence, Bioengineering, and so on.
Compared to the comprehensive division, both tuition and exam standards jumped by several levels.
Graduates from the comprehensive track joining Arasaka Tower itself? Not likely. Instead, they'd find placements in Arasaka's factories, smart-control plants, port warehouses, or deadland farms.
Still jobs, right?
"Tch... this world," Vela muttered to herself.
Soon, under staff guidance, the group entered a sealed auditorium for the entrance ceremony and moved to the VIP waiting area.
Watching the flood of eager freshmen pour in with their parents, Vela could already see their futures.
Absentmindedly, she pulled a sleek metal cigarette case from her pocket.
Ding—
Bryan, the ever-attentive bodyguard, produced his lighter with a sharp click. A flame burst to life as Vela brought the cigarette to her lips, delicately glossed with a light shade of red. One inhale.
Let's get this over with.
Go through the motions. Say a few sharp-edged lines as a distinguished alum, stir up some cheap motivation, and reinforce her public image:
"Second-gen loyalist of Arasaka," "Grateful to the company," "Top executive maximizing corporate interest."
...
Inside the ceremony hall—
...
Freshman David didn't like it here.
He hated the atmosphere.
It was a world that clashed with his own.
His home, in Santo Domingo's H4 supertower, was all rusted elevators, flaking paint in the corridors, outdated decor, stairwells littered with needles and stains no one dared investigate. Even their apartment was always dim.
But here, just across from the corporate plaza, stood that suffocating monolith of jet-black steel.
The buildings here felt like weapons—aggressive, fortified, indifferent. Spotless, but cold. Standing in this place, David felt like he was in the heart of the city, the center of the universe, and at any moment it could devour him whole.
Just like it did to his mom...
"David."
Her voice was soft.
Sensing her son's tension and unease, Gloria gently patted his shoulder.
"You're already here. Face it. In the future, I want you to live like a real person. Not like me. Not like your father, who died."
Her eyes glistened.
"Mom..."
David had no words.
Just as he was about to speak, to comfort her, to respond to her hopes—his gaze was caught by a streak of brilliance at the edge of his vision.
Drawn by the gleam in his mother's crimson hair, David's eyes drifted toward the front of the hall.
There, behind a rail, flanked by a wall of unmistakably dangerous Arasaka bodyguards, stood a dazzling figure.
Radiant.
Not quite gold, not quite silver—strands of pale golden hair fluttered like silk ribbons in the breeze. Unforgettable at a glance.