Even though she had already arranged a meeting with the police, Valerie wasn't about to pass up the chance to sneak into the crime scene herself.
She knew the crew was busy filming and clustered together, meaning the assassin was unlikely to strike in such a crowded environment. The studio had two doors: the locked exit and the main entrance she had used. Valerie stepped out, easily navigating the building's blind spots thanks to her knowledge of the camera layout.
She set her laptop down and pressed her left thumb—a small, habitual gesture she used to "categorize" her abilities and prevent accidental activation during the heat of battle.
[Optical Camouflage Activated]
Valerie's body vanished. She remained standing in the same spot, but light now bent around her. This legendary-grade cyberware allowed her to stay transparent for 15 seconds. Then, the world's colors stretched and bled into low-frequency hums as she activated her Sandevistan.
Ghost-like and impossibly fast, she crossed the police cordon and slipped into the restroom.
The murder was three days old; the police had already finished their primary sweep. Valerie deactivated her "Sandy" to save on the cooldown. She approached the cubicle where the door had been ripped off. A chalk outline marked the victim's final position: slumped against the wall, legs splayed around the shattered remains of a toilet bowl.
Valerie leaned in. The victim's skull had a massive crack, seemingly from blunt force trauma. She caught the scent of mothballs and waste, but no blood. Strange, she thought. As a merc who's swung her share of hammers, I know that kind of impact should have left a lake of red. > She switched to Scanning Mode. The world turned into a grid of deep, cold blues. She stared at the wall, but the scanner—notorious for its selective compatibility in this world—didn't provide a readout. However, her naked eye caught something the cops seemed to have missed: shattered gray cracks filled with yellow, dried soil.
Soil? Inside a tiled bathroom? > She didn't touch it. She would wait for the police report at 2 PM. Using her camo and speed once more, she slipped back to her laptop, her mind racing. The "Death Notice" was vague—a promise to kill the whole crew without a specific target. It felt like a detective thriller, but Valerie wasn't a detective. She was a mercenary. Her job was to find a target and neutralize it.
To ensure the mission's success, she decided to bring the crew to the restaurant for her 2 PM meeting. Safety in numbers, and she could keep an eye on them while talking to her informant.
Back in the studio, Valerie leaned against a pillar, watching the crew work. Subconsciously, she kept her Scanner active. It was a habit now—scanning for body temperature, heart rates, and physical anomalies. In Night City, this would link her to a database. Here, it just gave her the raw vitals of the people around her.
She panned her gaze across the room—until it hit a stagehand in the corner.
The scan didn't trigger.
In her vision, the man was moving, breathing, and talking. But to her cyberware, there was no heat signature. No heartbeat. Just a void of "inorganic matter," as if she were looking at a piece of furniture.
Supernatural abilities, Valerie realized. This is Gotham, after all.
She didn't hesitate. She walked straight up to the stagehand. He looked up, surprised. "Is there anything I can help you with, Ms. V?"
Valerie didn't answer. She stared into his eyes for a heartbeat. Then, to the horror of everyone watching, she reached into her "pocket," pulled out her massive shotgun, and pressed the cold barrel against his chest.
"Bang!"
The sudden gunshot in broad daylight was shocking enough, but what followed was beyond belief.
As expected, the stagehand's body exploded from the close-range blast. His torso flew backward, severed at the waist. But instead of blood and bone, a spray of thick, yellowish-brown mud splattered across the set.
"What... what is that?!" The crew froze in terror.
The stagehand's upper half rolled across the floor while his legs remained standing, the stump at the waist churning with wet clay.
"As I thought," Valerie nodded, her shotgun still smoking. "You're the one."
The monster seemed dazed, finally realizing it couldn't feel pain. The lone police officer on duty fumbled with his pistol, his hands shaking as he aimed back and forth between V and the mud-thing. He was alone; his partner had stepped out for a break, never expecting a nightmare to unfold during a routine guard shift.
The lower half of the creature melted, merging into a pool of sludge that flowed toward the upper torso like a lit candle liquefying. The man's face lost its human features, swelling into a featureless, three-meter-tall behemoth. Three dark hollows formed where eyes and a mouth should be.
"You all... deserve to die!" the creature roared, its voice sounding like it was bubbling up from a deep swamp.
It lunged at Valerie with a massive, fingerless hand. Even without her Sandevistan, Valerie danced out of its reach with ease. The creature's fist slammed into the floor, sending a cloud of prop-sand into the air.
"Bang!" The officer finally found his nerve and shot the monster in the head. The clay head snapped back, a hole appearing in its forehead, only for the bullet to be spat out as the "flesh" knitted itself back together instantly.
"I'll kill you!" the monster bellowed.
Just then, a blade glowing with blue electricity pierced through its back.
"Sizzle!"
Valerie delivered a brutal horizontal slash, bisecting the creature again. The officer stared in disbelief—Valerie's arms had transformed. Long, jagged blades encircled by crackling lightning bolts had extended from her forearms like the limbs of a predatory mantis.
Since the "2.0 update" back in her world, Valerie had mastered these Electrifying Mantis Blades. They were her only alternative after her Monowire went missing during the transmigration.
The clay figure tried to reform, but this time, Valerie didn't just watch. She became a whirlwind of steel and chrome. The officer watched as this "fearless" monster was diced into literal mud by the blue-haired woman.
However, Valerie frowned. No matter how much she minced the creature, it kept bubbling back to life. But the monster—Clayface—was beginning to feel a new sensation: fear.
He realized the electrical arcs from the Mantis Blades were cauterizing his body, drying out the moisture he needed to stay cohesive. If she keeps this up, I'll turn into dust, he thought.
Panicked, he stopped trying to fight and began to liquefy, intending to flow away through the cracks in the floor. Valerie noticed the dried dirt on her blades. It's the heat, she realized. The current is drying him out.
She retracted her blades and pulled an Incendiary Grenade from her pocket.
"Bang!"
Flames engulfed the mud monster. It shrieked in agony as the 2077-grade thermite scorched its mass. Valerie felt a surge of confidence. At this rate, she could finish the job. She even wondered if the GCPD would arrest her for "murdering" a pile of mud—though she doubted they'd care if she paid them enough.
But just as she felt in control, the high temperature triggered the studio's fire suppression system.
"Buzz!"
The overhead sprinklers hissed to life. A torrential downpour soaked Valerie's blue hair and, more importantly, extinguished the fire on the monster.
"Not good!"
Valerie reacted instantly. She switched to her Scanner, locking onto the ceiling's electronic control unit. Since she was using a Sandevistan instead of a Cyberdeck, her hacking was limited, but a simple "Short Circuit" or "Device Override" on a cracked system was still possible.
She shut down the sprinklers in an instant, but the damage was done. The moisture had revitalized Clayface. He coiled his body like a spring. Valerie threw another grenade, but the monster was faster. A clump of mud shot out like a cannonball, smashing through the ventilation shaft to make its escape.