"There was actually a room in my home dedicated to monitoring me at all times!"
After Carl called him upstairs, Jefferson Peralez's expression was something to behold as he faced the surveillance room exposed before him.
He had considered the possibility that he was being watched, and he had considered that the extent of the control over him might run deep. But no matter what, he had never expected them to dare set up a dedicated surveillance room inside his private residence. Some of the screens were even aimed at the bed where he slept every night!
Didn't that mean every late-night conversation and private moment he shared with his wife had been completely exposed to others?
How was that any different from being a clown on a stage?
Though politicians in Night City were essentially clowns performing whatever people wanted to see onstage, knowing it and not knowing it were entirely different things.
"Was this room already here when I first moved into this apartment?"
Amid his anger, Jefferson Peralez realized something in horror. If this room had been part of the original design, did that mean even moving into this apartment had been part of the people behind the scenes' plan?
He had not moved in when he was still a lawyer. He had only moved into this apartment after entering politics, struggling for a while, and gaining enough recognition to establish himself. That had been around six years ago. In other words, had they been watching him since six years ago?
Had every choice he made been planned out for him six years ago?
An indescribable sense of confusion swept through Jefferson Peralez. The realization that he might have been monitored since six years ago left him utterly lost.
He could no longer tell how many of