Over a week later.
Tokyo Metropolis, Arasaka Industrial Park, Biotech Division Subdistrict, Sonnentreppe Project Biological Laboratory.
Bang!
Roar—
Heavy pounding and a chilling, inhuman roar echoed faintly from the depths of the lab.
"That's enough. Inject inhibitors and anesthetics. Begin 'weight reduction' and remove the excess muscle and ossified growth. Make sure it's destroyed."
From behind the observation window of the fully sealed experimental chamber, surrounded by instruments like blood pressure monitors, heart rate monitors, brainwave detectors, and BIS machines, Vela rose from the central control console, datapad in hand. "Detain it."
"Yes, Supervisor."
Nearby, Arasaka lab staff clad in gray-white full protective suits and wearing information visors bowed respectfully.
They were assistants assigned to Vela by Saburo Arasaka himself.
Whether they could be trusted or if any of them were planted spies wasn't Vela's concern. Her only task was to use them to their full extent.
And indeed, Tokyo HQ's training showed. They were obedient but not arrogant, and extremely efficient—very much to her liking.
Tap tap.
Vela strolled over to the observation window, separated by cold reinforced glass, and gazed at the restrained figure held fast by thick metal arms at the limbs, torso, and head.
It was a monstrous giant.
Humanoid in shape, its skin a bizarre gray-brown. It stood over 8.7 feet tall.
Muscles bulged grotesquely, fibers pulsating like festering tissue. Bone overgrowth protruded from its shoulders, scapulae, spine, ribs—piercing the flesh like jagged stakes, bloodied and tense.
Its head was massive and deformed, bald with twisted features and a neck as thick as its skull.
A Tyrant—no, more accurately, a Progenitor Virus subject.
A half-successful, half-failed infection case, much like the last two royal heirs of the West African Ndipaya Kingdom in the Resident Evil world.
This was the unfortunate Militech technician whose throat had been torn out by Cyberpunk's first "zombie."
After over a week of continuous experimentation by Vela, with repeated high-dosage injections and virus adjustments, he had mutated into this grotesque form.
Since he had not been a professional combatant in life, his cybernetic enhancements were relatively limited. His bones were mostly still his own. At the start of the experiment, Vela had witnessed something quite spectacular.
A cyborg with moderate modifications—half flesh, half steel.
The Progenitor Virus invaded the remaining half of his flesh. Upon receiving the newly engineered viral strain from Vela, his tissues swelled and regenerated. The implanted cybernetics were forcefully rejected, expelled from his body.
For instance, his synthetic lungs were purged, and the newly regenerated lungs resembled massive tumorous growths. Upon dissection, they revealed alveoli and other pulmonary structures—as expected from a DNA-based virus. To the Progenitor Virus, the subject's DNA still registered as human. No matter the depth of his modifications, he was still human.
Thus, based on the lessons learned from Umbrella's Dr. Marcus and Dr. William Birkin, Vela proceeded with a mixture of restraint and enhancement. Constantly adjusting dosages, she used this test subject, codenamed "Tyrant-0," to extract viral derivatives and byproducts for further research.
Standing on the shoulders of giants, and with Umbrella's countless successes and failures paving the way, Vela had little hesitation. With abundant funding and Arasaka's cutting-edge lab equipment, she had already begun to see results.
One small slice of the big picture she had painted for Saburo—a sample of the promised "sweet reward"—was now in the final phase of safety calibration.
At that moment—Buzz-hiss!
Thumb-thick needles stabbed deep into the creature's pseudo-neck arteries, spine, heart, and femoral artery. Following Vela's command, the lab AI began the 'weight reduction' process on the giant.
As mechanical arms equipped with cutters, drills, and debriding scalpels activated, a horrifying sound of flesh being torn apart echoed through the lab.
Blood splattered, bones were sawed and muscles shredded. Before long, the giant had been "slimmed down"—excess muscle and proliferated bone were removed, and abnormal internal growths extracted.
Then, the self-destruct-capable neural control chip implanted in its brain issued a command: sleep.
Layer upon layer of mechanical arms and restraints encased the creature. Disinfection and cleaning systems activated.
"Thank you, Militech, for sending me my very own Lisa."
With a slight smile, Vela silently withdrew her gaze.
Umbrella's bloody legacy…
Though she didn't think herself much better than Oswell E. Spencer.
Still, Spencer had zero qualms about using George Trevor—the loyal engineer who designed the Arklay Mansion—as the first live subject for the Progenitor Virus. He also kidnapped George's underage daughter Lisa Trevor for over a decade of horrific bio-experiments, ultimately destroying the entire Trevor family.
Vela couldn't compare. That man was inhuman.
Turning around.
Click click…
Leaving the containment chamber, Vela calmly made her way through the massive facility toward her private lab.
Along the way, a vast array of surveillance cameras, scanners, and automated turrets silently emphasized the lab's extreme security.
She nodded in passing to stationed guards at key checkpoints, then passed through the biometric security gate.
Click. The door opened.
Sensing her biological signature, the automated lights flickered on.
She approached the workstation, slotted her datapad into its dock, pulled over her chair, and sat down. Glancing at the data summaries on the charts, she organized her thoughts. Snap! She flicked her fingers.
Clang!
Surrounding her desk were towering, polished, reinforced polarized glass panels.
Behind them lay a state-of-the-art lab filled with AI-automated cultivation chambers and chemical synthesis equipment: cleaners, sifters, grinders, mixers, extractors, distillers, reactors, spray dryers, vacuum dryers, chromatographs, photometers—everything needed for pharmaceutical manufacturing. A dedicated supercomputer provided the processing power.
Holographic displays of key metrics were projected by the ceiling system all around the central workspace.
Vela focused on the datapad in front of her.
In just over a week, the various mutant strains and experimental byproducts extracted from "Tyrant-0" had been systematically collected here. Some were liquids, some powders, others solids or semi-solid pastes—each preserved in its optimal state.
According to her calculations, once a newly purified, hazy translucent extract was transferred to her private lab, she pressed the synthesis button. The tap-tap of her fingers never stopped.
Synthesis began.
Based on Umbrella's extensive clinical data and Vela's carefully calculated protocols, the instruments got to work. The extract and related compounds were dissolved at precise temperatures, then filtered, sterilized, weighed, mixed…
Eventually, the liquid was diluted and fused with glucose.
The result: a cognitive enhancement pill and an upgraded version of [Regenerate].
Leveraging the Progenitor Virus's ability to rejuvenate cells, the unidirectional cultivation of specific byproducts allowed her to drastically reduce side effects while lowering the upper limit of viral potency. The resulting formula could revitalize dead cells, reverse aging, inhibit brain degeneration, treat Alzheimer's, and noticeably enhance cognitive function.
For Umbrella, this was a pinnacle product in their medical line—luxurious, high-end, and exorbitantly priced.
But for Saburo Arasaka, price was irrelevant. What he wanted was a drug without resistance issues, capable of slowing aging and extending life.
"Some of the parameters are off... the risk is still too high. Needs more adjustment."
Comparing chromatograph and spectrometer readings, Vela closed her eyes slightly, thinking. To be safe, she continued making adjustments.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally—
Exhale… Pausing her real-time fine-tuning operations, Vela reviewed the stabilized parameters, now closely aligned with her internal calculations and the AI's simulation forecasts. She checked the time—June 18, 2075, 22:15.
"Name it: R-618 'Rebirth' Compound."
Lab Assistant AI: [Entry recorded.]
Vela pressed the workstation's dedicated comm line. "Send word out. Recruit volunteers. R-618 'Rebirth' Compound is ready for clinical testing."
Beep.
Next, she changed frequencies. "Commander Shintaro, I have good news to report to Lord Saburo."
...
Over half a month later, it was now July.
At the Arasaka family estate, Vela—now on her second formal visit—stood before Takayama Shintaro.
"Are you confident?" he asked, his fingers gliding across a datapad.
As he swiftly read through the files, the surprise in Shintaro's eyes deepened. The documents detailed the latest progress of the Sonnentreppe Project, and a scalable product: R-618 'Rebirth' Compound.
Included were the results of clinical trials, with real-time images of disabled volunteers from Tokyo's outskirts and slums undergoing injection therapy. The follow-up on elderly male subjects was especially thorough.
Vela's intentions were clear.
Was she planning to give Saburo a dose?
"Commander Shintaro, this drug isn't an off-the-shelf formula. You can't just ingest it for effect. For Lord Saburo, a personalized compound is necessary. It must be tailored to his specific biology."
Vela stated immediately that there was no way Saburo would be treated with the same version as the volunteer elders. That would be disrespectful. This must be a custom formula, designed exclusively for him.
Shintaro nodded. "Come with me. I need you to demonstrate it again in front of Lord Saburo."
"No problem. Who's the test subject?"
As they spoke, the two walked into the courtyard of the residential district. Saburo Arasaka was seated in a wheelchair, being pushed by Hanako. Takemura and that flamboyant Oda stood nearby.
"Lord Saburo. Miss Hanako." Vela bowed slightly.
"Begin."
Saburo responded briefly, showing no emotion. Hanako's gaze, however, was strangely fixed. Vela noticed that from the moment she entered, the woman's eyes hadn't left her.
There wasn't time to dwell on it. Vela turned her attention to the two elderly men also seated in wheelchairs in the courtyard.
Noticing her confusion, Takayama explained, "They were once senior bodyguards who served closely at Lord Saburo's side. Now aged, they remain at his request as long-standing retainers of the Arasaka family."
Ah—Saburo's old bodyguards.
The old man had outlived them all. His retainers and several generations of guards were either dead or too feeble to walk. Unlike Saburo and Shintaro, they lacked the status and resources for top-tier enhancements.
When asked their ages, some were younger than Hanako—yet they looked older than Saburo himself…
"R-618 'Rebirth' Compound—this product represents only a small and basic segment of the Sonnentreppe Project. Lord Saburo and Commander Shintaro should know: the Progenitor Virus offers much more than this. The 'Tyrant-0' test subject was a failed product. Due to the virus's toxicity and instability, I had to significantly reduce the strengthening effects to maintain a stable state."
"All drugs are poisons to some degree. After extensive adjustments and calculations, I found a stable efficacy threshold."
As the head of the Sonnentreppe Project, Vela explained while accepting a briefcase from an Arasaka agent behind her and began preparing the demonstration. The two old men had clearly been briefed in advance—both were ready.
She quickly ran genetic compatibility calculations for the R-618 'Rebirth' Compound for the two elderly men. Each was three to four times her age, and due to their frailty, most of their combat-grade cyberware had been removed. Dosage needed to be carefully calibrated—an accidental overdose could kill them on the spot.
That would not look good.
The first elder's injection was a success.
Afterward, he remained slumped in his wheelchair, a bit dazed.
About ten minutes later, just as Vela was finalizing the second elder's custom dosage—
"Lord Saburo... Lord Saburo, is it really you?!"
The old man who had received the injection cried out.
His eyes, once clouded, now gleamed with clarity. His lopsided mouth began to straighten, and his speech became more coherent. Hunched over, he leaned forward toward Saburo Arasaka, seated on the wooden steps, and made a motion to kneel in fealty—but Arasaka agents quickly held him back.
Saburo, who had appeared to be dozing, opened his eyes with a gleam of sharp brilliance.
Although no physical changes were immediately visible, the old retainer's mental condition had clearly improved—a vivid return of vitality, as if he had shed ten years of dementia.
"Good. Very good, Vela Adelheid. You did not disappoint me. Step forward!"
Having just finished injecting the second elder, Vela confidently stepped up the platform.
"Lord Saburo, the drug will take about a week to fully activate."
Ignoring the technicalities, Saburo spoke directly, "Prepare the final calibration."
Vela blinked. That much trust?
Someone so careful with his life—shouldn't he want to observe the test results for a year or two first?
No time for doubt. She kept her professional demeanor. If he was ready, so was she. "Understood."
Before she could begin any formal briefing, Saburo Arasaka slowly stood.
He declined Hanako's assistance, taking one cautious step after another until he stood before Vela, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stood on the steps.
"You reckless young ones aren't the only ones with daring."
At that moment, Vela had to admit—Saburo truly had a kind of magnetic leadership charisma.
...
One month later.
Arasaka Tower, Tokyo. Press conference.
The venue buzzed with energy. Journalists, writers, and media personnel filled the space, surrounded by an ocean of cameras and equipment.
"Hey, did you hear? Arasaka's about to unveil a new biotech product. This much fanfare... what do you think it is?"
"Arasaka? Aren't they leaders in weapons and security? Why are they suddenly diving into biotech? Can their product even compete with European or biotech giants?"
As reporters whispered, buzz...
A procession of Arasaka agents—faces rigid, expressions cold and indifferent—entered the hall.
And amid the security and executive entourage, a robed elder emerged slowly onto the stage, dressed in a black-gray wide-sleeved kimono adorned with the Arasaka family crest.
"Holy shit, is that... Saburo Arasaka?!"
A reporter gasped.
In an instant, chaos erupted.
"It's Saburo Arasaka!"
"How can it be him? Wasn't he supposed to be dying? Everyone said Yorinobu was about to take over. He hasn't appeared in public in over a decade!"