197 Blanca's Ambition

Blanca stared at Arasaka Haruko—the young woman she was finally qualified to stand beside as an equal.

Her gaze slowly swept over every detail of her:

Skin as pure as fresh snow, a face brimming with youthful vitality, long, smooth black hair falling over her shoulders, and simple, elegant clothing that lent her an air of unworldly grace. Every detail silently spoke of the beauty of youth.

Blanca unconsciously pressed her lips together.

At twenty-five, she might still have been considered young by ordinary people, but before this girl radiant with youth, she felt the marks of time for the first time.

How ironic.

She instinctively brushed a hand over her carefully maintained face.

In terms of appearance, she was confident she was inferior to no one. But what about everything else? Family background, status, that innate composure—things she had struggled with all her might just to barely reach were nothing more than ordinary birthrights to the girl before her.

Even the qualification to stand "as equals" at this very moment was only a fleeting parity she had bought with countless days and nights.

The gulf between people could sometimes run deeper than the skyscrapers of Night City.

But Blanca did not wallow in that resentment—she knew far too well that she was no abandoned child of fate.

Her childhood might not have been happy, but compared to those who had to struggle in polluted waters from the moment they were born, or nomads barely surviving in the Badlands, she was already one of the fortunate few near the top of the pyramid.

At twenty-three, she had become transportation supervisor in a crucial Militech department. Ordinary people could spend their entire lives without ever reaching such a starting point.

Her slender fingers lightly pressed against the tabletop.

Without the resources