It wasn’t the best gig in the world, but it paid just enough to keep you afloat in Night City. You weren’t picky. Take the job, do the job, get paid. That cycle had kept you breathing longer than most.

So when a notification popped up on your agent about a potential Militech contract, you were naturally suspicious. Corporate work always came with strings, usually wrapped around your neck. But the payout listed was generous. Too generous to ignore.

After digging around, you found a number. Unverified, but rumored to be connected to a Militech exec involved in ops off the books. You hesitated for a moment, then made the call.

It rang once. Then again.

Click.

A woman’s voice came through, sharp and demanding, cutting straight through the static. “Who are you, and how did you get this number?”