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🕑 Added 2025-07-31 15:44:15 +0000 UTCChapter 276: Witnessing an Unprecedented Upheaval
“Is this about wiping out every male in the Arasaka clan in one go?!”
The scene in the room left V, Jack, and Johnny Silverhand dumbfounded. Arasaka Yorinobu and Arasaka Saburo, both right there in front of them!
The question came from Jack Welles, who, true to form, wasn’t fazed at all. Even in a situation like this, he had the guts to whisper his curiosity.
“Shh!”
V hissed to shut him up, but somehow her shush came out louder than Jack’s question. Clearly, the street kid was just as hyped up as he was.
Johnny Silverhand stayed silent, though—not by choice. Riku had him on a tight leash.
No surprise there. When you’re face-to-face with your sworn enemies, it’s hard to keep cool. Adam Smasher? That was the guy who took Johnny down in their last showdown. And Arasaka Saburo? The mastermind behind it all, obsessed with his dream of immortality. Seeing those two bastards made Johnny’s blood boil—he wanted nothing more than to go off on them right then and there. Only Riku’s grip was keeping him in check.
“Quiet,” Riku whispered, not answering Jack’s question. Gotta give some respect to the professional bodyguards, right? Takemura Goro was already sweeping the room, completely ignoring the fact that the room’s owner, Arasaka Yorinobu, was sitting right there. Talk about rude.
“Didn’t we already have an agreement? You stay out of my business. So what are you doing here now?”
Yorinobu was the first to speak up. Saburo was just pacing, not saying a word, probably waiting for Yorinobu to cave or something.
As Yorinobu spoke, Takemura Goro’s scan reached the spot where Riku and the crew were hiding. His cybernetic eye glowed red, clearly running a full-spectrum sweep.
“Shit…”
Johnny, V, and Jack tensed up, their hearts racing. Takemura was right there. All three had the same thought: We’re screwed! Busted!
They glanced at Riku, but the guy was cool as a cucumber, not a hint of panic.
Takemura’s face was all business, scanning the room like he was expecting Yorinobu to have an army of ninja hiding in the shadows.
Yorinobu didn’t stop him, letting him poke around. He had nothing to hide, after all.
But then Saburo called it off. The old man clearly didn’t want anyone overhearing his talk with Yorinobu.
“Let us speak alone,” Saburo said slowly, addressing Takemura. It was a polite way of saying, “Get out.”
“Arasaka-sama, I haven’t completed the full scan. There could still be security risks. Please, just a moment longer,” Takemura replied, sticking to his duty. His job was to protect the head of the Arasaka clan, no matter what. Plus, something about that wall was off—it was blocking his scan.
“Takemura, this is my son,” Saburo said, his voice calm but firm. That shut Takemura up. What could he say? “You can’t trust your own kid”? Yeah, that’d go over well.
Sure, the father-son relationship was already a mess, but that wasn’t Takemura’s place to meddle.
“Understood. Should I retrieve the item we came for?” Takemura asked, shifting gears. He was talking about the “RELIC 2.0” chip—the whole reason they were here.
As Saburo’s personal bodyguard, Takemura was in the loop. He was a true bushi, ready to die for Saburo at a moment’s notice.
“No need. I’ll handle it. You may leave,” Saburo said, his tone slow but final.
With that, Takemura had no choice. He bowed and left. Orders were orders, and following Arasaka Saburo’s commands was second nature.
Adam Smasher followed him out, leaving just Saburo and Yorinobu in the room.
Well, them—and Riku’s crew, still hiding behind the byobu screen. V, Jack, and Johnny let out a collective sigh of relief. That close call had their hearts in their throats.
“Holy shit, that was too close!”
Even with Riku there, they knew they could escape if it came to it. But this was about assassinating Arasaka Saburo. They didn’t want to mess this up—they wanted to see this historic moment play out. That’s why they were here!
“Relax, everything’s under control,” Riku said, calm as ever, waving off their panic.
“…”
V, Jack, and Johnny could barely believe it. Riku had stayed chill even when Takemura was practically in their faces. The guy was rock-solid, like he had the whole thing in the bag.
His confidence rubbed off on them, and they started to calm down too.
“You think I wouldn’t notice something was missing?”
Once Takemura and Smasher were gone, Saburo finally addressed Yorinobu’s earlier question, his tone serious. Why was he here? Yorinobu knew damn well, so why play dumb?
“I don’t care if you noticed! I don’t care what you think! I never have! That’s your problem—you think the whole world revolves around you, you arrogant bakayaro!”
Yorinobu exploded like a lit firecracker, not holding back an ounce of his frustration.
He was done with Saburo’s attitude, acting like everything had to go according to his grand plan. Deviate from the script? That was betrayal in Saburo’s eyes, something to be “corrected” or erased.
Saburo had tried to “fix” Yorinobu’s life once before, but he’d given up when it became clear they were never on the same page.
“Yorinobu…”
Despite his son’s outburst, Saburo stayed calm, his voice laced with a mix of disappointment and weariness.
“If you’re just here to take back your toy, why show up in person? To rub it in my face? To teach your son how to stay in line, like some obedient puppet? A vessel for your plans?!”
Saburo’s feigned helplessness only pissed Yorinobu off more. He wasn’t buying the old man’s act for a second. This was the guy who’d planned to use him as a vessel for his resurrection. How much of this was even real?
“…”
Saburo fell silent, seemingly caught off guard by Yorinobu’s direct attack. Fifty years of Yorinobu holding back had lulled him into a false sense of security. He hadn’t expected his son to rip the mask off like this.
“Whoa, they’re really going at it! Puppets? Vessels? This is father and son? Feels more like sworn enemies!”
V, Jack, and Johnny were floored, watching the drama unfold. For a moment, they didn’t even want Riku to make a move. Could they at least finish watching this dorama-level gossip first?
But then they noticed Riku wasn’t moving either. Looked like he was just as hooked on the show.
What they didn’t know was that this dorama was just hitting its climax. What came next would blow their minds, sending their barely calmed emotions on a rollercoaster ride.
The two stars of this drama stood up and moved right to the edge of the byobu screen, practically performing for their hidden audience. The real emotional explosion and conflict were about to kick off.
Saburo had recovered from his shock, now visibly offended. The father-son talk was getting uglier, each word stabbing at the other’s sore spots.
“I’ve always been lenient with you, Yorinobu. But betrayal? That I cannot forgive. I’m glad your mother isn’t here to see this. She’d be heartbroken, utterly disappointed…”
Whether on purpose or not, Saburo brought up Yorinobu’s mother—a low blow, and he knew it. Yorinobu’s late mother held a sacred place in his heart.
“Shut up! You don’t deserve to mention her! You liar!”
Yorinobu’s voice was raw with rage. He meant every word. Saburo had deceived his mother her entire life. He had no right to speak her name.
“She was my wife!”
Saburo finally snapped, his voice rising. But his frail body couldn’t keep up with his anger—his hands were trembling.
That woman, Michiko, was the one soft spot in Saburo’s heart. His granddaughter, Arasaka Hanako, got special treatment because she looked so much like her. (Not to be confused with that Michiko, of course—they were generations apart.)
“Your wife? A wife you lied to her whole life! I’m the one who’s glad—glad she never saw your true face!
She was kind, pure, the complete opposite of everything Arasaka stands for. And you, Arasaka Saburo? You’re pure evil! Every sin in the world, rolled into one. The people who’ve died because of you could fill jigoku to the brim!
If she’d seen who you really are, she never would’ve stayed with you!”
Yorinobu pointed at Saburo, unloading years of pent-up rage. The old man, already half in the grave, looked like he might keel over from the sheer force of it.
It was a heartbreaking scene. If Michiko were still alive to see this, her feelings would’ve been a tangled mess.
“You don’t understand your mother at all!”
“Liar! What gives you the right to say that?!”
“Because she was your mother! And I’m your father! Yorinobu, remember this: what I don’t give you, you’ll never have!”
The argument grew fiercer, Yorinobu’s anger consuming him. All his reservations were gone. He just wanted to vent, to take down this shameless monster.
Nothing else could make Yorinobu lose control like this—nothing except his mother’s memory and Saburo’s gall to act like he had any moral ground.
Crack!
Without hesitation, Yorinobu lunged at Saburo, grabbing the nearly 160-year-old man by the throat and pinning him against the wall.
“…”
Behind the byobu, V, Jack, and Johnny were stunned speechless. They wanted to gasp, but the shock had stolen their voices.
So… they didn’t even need to assassinate Saburo themselves?
All three turned to Riku, who looked as calm as ever. Their jaws dropped. Was this all part of your plan?! They couldn’t believe anyone could stay this composed unless they’d seen it all coming.
“This is history in the making,” Riku said softly. “The truth behind Arasaka Saburo’s death—known only to the few of us here.”
The truth would be buried, dressed up by the victors as always.
Outside the screen, Yorinobu’s grip tightened, and Saburo’s life faded fast. It didn’t take long—his vitality was already hanging by a thread.
Saburo’s struggles were weak, easily overpowered. Before anyone could fully process the shock, Yorinobu let go. Saburo slumped to the floor, lifeless.
It was over. Yorinobu stood there, panting, hands shaking, stumbling. He could hardly believe what he’d done. But he quickly steadied himself. Even without Riku’s influence, he’d had to do it—for his own survival.
Bang! Bang bang bang!
Gunshots rang out. Several bullets hit Saburo’s still-warm body, and Yorinobu took a few hits too—one grazing dangerously close to his ear.
Boom!
The door burst open. Adam Smasher and Takemura Goro stormed in, faces full of panic. They hadn’t expected gunfire.
Chapter 277: The Situation is Set
“Grab him! There’s an assassin!”
Arasaka Yorimasa clutched his ear, shouting loudly. Despite the blood streaking his face, he seemed relatively unscathed, still full of energy and barking orders with gusto.
The former street kid quickly dove behind cover, pointing toward Riku’s direction, signaling that the assassin was over there.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
What answered him was a rapid burst of gunfire, forcing Arasaka Yorimasa to duck lower. But he kept shouting, undeterred.
“Save my father! Catch the assassin! Don’t let him escape!”
Yorimasa’s commands reached Adam Smasher, Takemura Goro, and the other agents and bodyguards who rushed in from outside, alerted by the chaos.
Adam Smasher and Takemura Goro, after their initial shock, sprang into action. Their expressions, goals, and mindsets couldn’t have been more different.
Seeing Arasaka Saburo lying in a pool of blood, Takemura Goro was utterly stunned. Unlike Yorimasa, who seemed barely injured, Saburo had clearly taken critical damage—possibly even… no, he was already gone!
“Saburo-sama!!!”
To Takemura, nothing mattered more than Arasaka Saburo’s life. Yorimasa could die for all he cared, but Saburo had to live! Sadly, his desperate hopes went unanswered. Yorimasa’s cry to “save my father” was futile—Saburo was dead beyond saving, no medical team could help now.
Adam Smasher, on the other hand, operated solely on Yorimasa’s orders. As long as Yorimasa was fine, Smasher’s priority shifted to catching the assassin.
Deep down, Adam Smasher was thrilled. With Saburo dead, Yorimasa held a massive advantage, poised to seize control of the situation effortlessly. After all, surviving an assassination attempt alongside Saburo gave Yorimasa the perfect opportunity to raise the banner of vengeance—a move that would be politically untouchable within the Arasaka corporation.
Saburo had countless loyalists, many of whom controlled significant military power and had no clear allegiance in the company’s internal struggles. If Yorimasa played the revenge card right, wielding the moral high ground, taking over Arasaka was practically a done deal.
If Takemura Goro and the other agents weren’t around, Smasher might’ve even put a final bullet in Saburo himself, just to be sure the old man was truly gone! And if Yorimasa gave the order, Smasher wouldn’t hesitate to wipe out everyone in the room.
Killing one assassin or a dozen—it didn’t matter. Saburo’s location being leaked screamed of an inside job. It’d be perfectly reasonable for Yorimasa to “discover” a traitor and clean house.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Adam Smasher unleashed a hail of bullets from his heavy machine gun, a relentless storm tearing toward Riku.
By now, Riku had transformed. Clad in black, his body altered, he wore a joker mask with a tongue sticking out.
“Arasaka Saburo deserved to die. Arasaka Yorimasa, consider yourself lucky.”
With those words, Riku darted forward, leaping out of the luxurious suite in Konpeki Plaza through a shattered window.
Crash!
Glass exploded as Riku’s figure soared out. Adam Smasher rushed to the window, spotting Riku gliding through the air, his wingsuit unfolding behind him—clearly prepared for this dramatic escape.
“Chase him! Everyone, go after him! He can’t get away!”
Yorimasa joined Smasher at the window, his face twisted in fury as he roared orders to Smasher and Takemura to pursue.
“Yes, sir!”
Adam Smasher didn’t hesitate, immediately mobilizing his team. But Takemura was different, still reeling from the shock of Saburo’s death.
“Takemura! Move! Don’t let my father’s killer escape! You’ve already failed once—this is your chance to make it right!”
Yorimasa couldn’t tolerate Takemura lingering by Saburo’s body, especially since that corpse held some secrets.
“But—!”
Takemura’s eyes widened as he stared at Yorimasa, emotions surging. Doubts gnawed at him. Something felt off—too many things didn’t add up. How had it come to this?
“Takemura! What is your duty?!”
Yorimasa cut him off, his blood-streaked face glaring fiercely.
“To… protect the Arasaka patriarch…”
Takemura’s voice faltered, his resolve shaken by Yorimasa’s commanding presence.
“Don’t make me repeat myself a third time! Catch the killer!”
Yorimasa’s rage was palpable, his words dripping with authority. It seemed like one wrong move, and he’d have Takemura executed on the spot. The surrounding Arasaka agents were already on edge, ready to act.
Saburo lay dead, his body riddled with bullets and mangled horribly. As the sole male heir, Yorimasa held unmatched authority, commanding everyone present. These local agents knew him well—Yorimasa was far more active in the area than Saburo, who hadn’t set foot in America for decades until this fatal visit.
“Yes, sir.”
Takemura had no choice. He left Saburo’s body behind, despite the storm of thoughts in his mind. With Saburo gone, his own position was precarious, but that wasn’t his concern. He’d always planned to serve Saburo until the end, then either retire or follow his master in death, fulfilling his loyalty.
But now, he couldn’t. Saburo’s death was too suspicious, the whole situation reeking of conspiracy—especially in this unchecked room! Bluntly put, Takemura suspected Yorimasa. Why had Yorimasa, targeted in the same attack, walked away with just a grazed ear?
Sure, Yorimasa had taken a few hits, but his bulletproof vest kept the damage minimal. Saburo, frail and unarmored, was turned into a sieve. But why hadn’t the assassin used armor-piercing rounds? Outsiders wouldn’t know Saburo wasn’t wearing a vest—how could they fail to prepare for that? And the blood splatter was wrong. Takemura knew what a body shot like that should look like, and Saburo’s blood loss didn’t match a living person’s.
Too many red flags. This needed to be investigated thoroughly.
And who could help? Takemura knew only one person: Arasaka Hanako. Though Hanako and Yorimasa were close, if Yorimasa was behind Saburo’s death, Hanako would never forgive him. Family was everything to her—she’d never tolerate patricide, no matter the politics.
Chased out of Konpeki Plaza, Takemura led his Night City team into a narrow alley, pursuing alongside Smasher’s group. Drones scouted ahead, feeding them intel. The assassin couldn’t seem to shake them.
“Split up and search. Report any findings immediately. Lives can be lost, but the intel must get through—for Saburo-sama!”
With nearly a dozen men, crowding together was inefficient. Takemura divided them into groups of three. That way, even if ambushed, someone could relay the message.
“Yes, sir!”
The agents with Takemura were all diehards, ready to give their lives for Saburo. They were raised under him, with little chance of earning the next generation’s trust.
After searching, Takemura found no trace of the assassin, frustration mounting. It felt like they were being toyed with. Catching the assassin could be a shortcut to answers—he wasn’t a suicide operative, given his escape plan. A dead assassin would’ve been ideal for Yorimasa, silencing any loose ends.
“I can’t let Smasher find him first!”
Takemura was certain Smasher would kill to cover tracks, showing no mercy.
“Man, I really like loyal retainers. Such a shame.”
Before Takemura could act, his two companions dropped dead. A figure appeared beside him, sighing.
Takemura spun, aiming at Riku and firing at his limbs without hesitation.
Buzz!
A black shadow deflected the bullets. Despair crept into Takemura’s eyes. He’d never been to Night City, but he knew the legend of David Collins, the “Immortal Demon.” That fame wasn’t just local—it had shaken the world, putting pressure on Biotechnica.
Knowing David Collins meant knowing he couldn’t win against this monster.
“Why?! Why kill Saburo-sama?!”
Takemura demanded, ready to die but needing answers.
“Because he deserved it. The whole Arasaka clan does. Most importantly, someone paid to make it happen.”
Riku grinned, his words darkening Takemura’s expression. Seeing his reaction, Riku’s smile widened.
Takemura’s bravado hid his true intent: stalling. He was recording, hoping to upload the exchange online. Even in death, he’d contribute to uncovering Saburo’s truth.
“That’s why I like loyal retainers.”
Riku shook his head, then slashed. Takemura activated his Sandevistan, dodging, but he couldn’t even see what was coming.
Boom!
With Sandevistan active, he saw it—a crescent blade of energy that obliterated a nearby wall. Its destructive power was staggering.
“Not bad. Worthy of being Saburo’s personal guard.”
Riku nodded in approval, but it was faint praise. Human bodies, even enhanced with cyberware, were limited by tech and talent. True invincibility—like stopping time—was beyond current Sandevistan capabilities, even Arasaka’s cutting-edge models.
Slash!
Riku didn’t give Takemura another chance. With a single strike, he beheaded him. Both using Arasaka’s latest Sandevistan, Takemura was laughably outmatched.
Takemura had to die—he knew too much and was too stubborn. Without him, Hanako wouldn’t immediately suspect Yorimasa. She wouldn’t want to believe it anyway.
Looking at Takemura’s body, Riku shook his head and vanished into the shadows. The Arasaka matter was settled. Without evidence, Hanako wouldn’t oppose Yorimasa over mere suspicion. With time and Michiko Arasaka’s support, Yorimasa’s cunning would secure his grip on Arasaka, eliminating all dissent.
Chapter 278: The End of an Old Era, the Start of a New One
The news of Arasaka Saburo’s death was dropped by the Arasaka corporation without any attempt to hide it. Once it hit, the story spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the world with shocking speed.
No surprise there—this was the kind of bombshell that could shake the globe. No news outlet would dare miss out on a once-in-a-century event like this. Skipping it would be like throwing away a goldmine.
This wave of attention was enough to keep every media company fed for weeks.
Honestly, Arasaka Saburo’s death was something people had been waiting for. The old man had been looking half-dead for ages, so everyone was ready to send him off with a cyber-memorial.
But somehow, the guy clung to life until now, only to go out with a bang—assassinated! A non-natural death! Most of the pre-written obituaries were useless now.
“Guess someone got fed up and took him out,” one person quipped.
“All that for a headline? That’s insane!”
“Either way, thanks, Arasaka Saburo!”
The media wasn’t shedding any tears over his death. Quite the opposite—they were ecstatic.
For the next few months, they wouldn’t have to scramble for stories. This was going to be a hot topic for years. Arasaka Saburo’s death was bound to shake up global politics. The man who’d dominated an era, standing at its peak, ended his life in a dramatic, almost theatrical way.
News crews swarmed Konpeki Plaza, but the building was locked down tighter than a Militech vault. No way were they letting reporters in.
Some journalists got desperate, trying to sneak inside for exclusive footage. Big mistake. One even sparked a bloody incident, thinking they could play cyber-ninja for clout. Spoiler: it didn’t end well.
Arasaka had just been hit by a high-profile assassination. They weren’t messing around with intruders—sneak in, and you’d get flatlined, no questions asked.
So, the media did what they do best: set up camp outside Konpeki Plaza, using it as a backdrop for their reports. They churned out wild theories and conspiracies, milking the story for every ounce of attention.
Saburo’s death had people split. Some were grinning ear to ear, seeing opportunity in the chaos. Arasaka was bound to face some turbulence, and for many, that was a chance to climb the ladder. Others, though, were sweating bullets, worried this could spark the “Fifth Corporate War.”
For the folks in Night City, anxiety was par for the course. The “Fourth Corporate War” left scars—deep ones. A nuke had leveled parts of the city, forcing decades of rebuilding. That kind of trauma sticks.
So far, Arasaka had only confirmed Saburo’s death, with no other official details.
But they did drop some choice info painting Militech in a bad light, heavily implying they were behind the hit. It was blatant, no subtlety at all. Arasaka was clearly pointing fingers at Militech.
And just like Riku expected, the public ate it up. If you said someone else did it, people would raise an eyebrow. But pin it on Militech? Suddenly, it all made sense.
This only fueled fears of war. If Militech really was behind Saburo’s assassination, the outcome was practically written in neon: all-out conflict.
The night passed in a blur of chaos. Arasaka’s manhunt turned up nothing—no killer, just more losses on their side. Even Takemura Goro, Saburo’s personal bodyguard who’d come to Night City with him, was dead. Talk about a brutal blow.
This only cemented the theory that the assassin had serious backing in Night City. No small-time merc could pull this off. And how many factions had the muscle to go toe-to-toe with Arasaka? Militech was looking more and more like the prime suspect, and they’d have to step up and explain themselves soon.
“My father, Arasaka Saburo, is dead—killed by an assassin’s blade. This was a meticulously planned attack! We will uncover the truth and drag the mastermind into the light!”
The next day, Arasaka Hanako, sporting a bandaged ear, held a press conference. Gritting her teeth, barely holding back her grief, she vowed to hunt down whoever was behind her father’s murder. No one would escape justice.
New America and Militech hadn’t even had time to respond before Hanako came out swinging, doubling down on her accusations.
“Hanako’s got some acting chops,” V remarked, watching the broadcast. She’d seen the whole murder go down firsthand. When Saburo was killed, Hanako didn’t exactly look heartbroken—more like she’d just taken out her worst enemy.
“Politician 101. Everyone’s an Oscar contender,” Johnny Silverhand scoffed. He was starting to piece it together. This whole thing felt orchestrated, and the real puppet master seemed to be Riku, who’d guided them through the whole show. That realization hit him like a brick.
“We’re not really headed for war, are we?” Jack asked, his voice heavy with worry. Another war wouldn’t be a skirmish—it’d be a world-shaking catastrophe.
For Night City, still licking its wounds from the last war, that was the last thing anyone wanted. The “Metal War” was New America’s President Rosalind Myers’ campaign to unify the Free States. New America, Militech, and the Free States were the main players, with Arasaka quietly supplying weapons to the Free States but staying out of the direct fight. Night City wasn’t the primary battlefield, but it still took a beating—failed projects like Pacifica, the rise of Dogtown. Those scars shaped the city’s current state.
As a so-called “free city,” Night City was always on guard against New America’s ambitions. War wasn’t some distant concept—it loomed over the city like a constant shadow.
“Let ‘em fight. If the corps aren’t tearing each other apart, how’s a regular person supposed to get a shot? The bloodier, the better,” Johnny said, unfazed by the prospect of total war. He’d figured out by now that the only thing that could take down a corp was another corp. Regular people making noise didn’t dent their armor.
“Your vibe’s starting to match Hanako’s,” Riku said with a smirk. The original and the upgraded version were seeing eye to eye: no individual could topple a corp on their own.
“How’d you pull this off, Riku? Don’t tell me… Hanako’s in your pocket too? Was this all your plan?” Jack asked, staring at Riku.
They weren’t dumb. It was obvious Riku knew everything ahead of time and was working with Hanako. Otherwise, how was she still alive? Riku’s aim wasn’t what it used to be—he didn’t miss anymore.
“Yup, Hanako’s one of mine,” Riku confirmed with a nod.
The admission left Jack, V, and Johnny stunned into silence. They’d had their suspicions, but hearing it straight from Riku’s mouth was a gut punch.
On the TV, Hanako was now openly blasting Militech, even announcing plans to send more troops to Night City.
It sounded reasonable enough—she was still bandaged up, after all. Beefing up security for her own safety made sense, right?
“So, is Arasaka really about to go to war with Militech?” Jack asked, confused. Hanako’s moves were straight-up provocative, poking Militech in the eye.
That kind of thing violated the Arvin Accord. You couldn’t just send troops wherever you wanted, no matter the excuse. Night City might be a “free city,” but it was still technically New American soil. New America had never given up its claim, and the Arvin Accord kept both sides in check. Break that, and all bets were off.
Jack couldn’t wrap his head around it. Did Riku have some personal beef with Militech? Why pit Arasaka against them?
“Gotta rattle Militech’s cage. Hanako needs a target to rally Arasaka’s forces and consolidate power,” Riku explained, shutting down the idea of war. A full-blown conflict would be a global disaster, and while that might be Hanako’s plan, it wasn’t his. He wasn’t about to kick off an apocalypse and rebuild from scratch.
“Oh, I get it now,” Jack said, the pieces clicking. All thunder, no rain—just a way to clean house and unify Arasaka’s ranks.
“But can she really keep things under control?” Johnny asked. With everyone riled up, could Hanako really stop a war from breaking out?
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got it handled,” Riku said confidently. Arasaka’s key players weren’t going anywhere—they’d all be roped into the “Shadow Council” as candidates. With the promise of true “immortality” dangling in front of them, who’d have time to start trouble?
“…” Johnny went quiet. Riku’s methods were beyond anything he could predict. Fifty years later, the world had gone so crazy it was unrecognizable.
Hanako’s press conference wrapped up, packed with explosive soundbites. The media went into a frenzy again.
Sure, some people were worried about war breaking out, but now it was up to Militech and New America to respond.
New America didn’t waste time. Just like Arasaka’s news broke through WNS, New America’s response came via N54 News, with President Rosalind Myers herself stepping up. The “Iron Lady” of New America wasn’t pulling punches, going toe-to-toe with Hanako.
“First, on behalf of New America, I express sympathy for Arasaka Saburo’s fate. But I must make one thing clear: Arasaka Hanako’s accusations against New America are pure slander—baseless, evidence-free speculation,” Myers declared.
Despite her age, Myers was sharp, radiating authority. She didn’t look like some frail grandma but a battle-hardened leader, every bit the hero of her reputation.
Her public image had always been ironclad, pushing for reunification of the fractured states. Night City and the Free States were always in her crosshairs.
She’d done well so far, riding the wave of the “Unification War” to secure her third term. While that war didn’t fully succeed, it brought the Western Free States back under nominal control—a feat that boosted national pride.
Now, she was gunning for a fourth term. Precedent existed, even if the last guy to try it died in office. Another big win would seal her legacy, and her sights were still set on the Free States and Night City.
The Free States, especially Northern California, were still backed by Arasaka, stirring up resistance against the government. Night City and the Republic of Texas were fully independent, outside New America’s grasp. If Myers could unify them, she’d be a legend—practically a saint. Forget a fourth term; she could rewrite the rules and run the show indefinitely.
Saburo’s death was like someone handing her a pillow when she was already half-asleep. Arasaka with Saburo was a titan; without him, it was vulnerable. This was the best news for her plans.
“If Arasaka Hanako ignores the Arvin Accord and acts recklessly, New America won’t stand idly by. She’ll pay for her rashness.
My administration is fully prepared to respond. In the Unification War, we showed Arasaka Saburo that he wasn’t invincible. If needed, I’ll teach his daughter the same lesson.
New America is growing stronger, coming together as one. No foreign power can stop this—it’s the tide of history!”
Myers raised her fist, her voice ringing with conviction. “Coming together as one” was now her campaign’s rallying cry, a promise of unity that every New American could feel.
Chapter 279: President Myers, You Wouldn’t Want…
Rosalind Myers’ response left everyone stunned. Sure, the Iron Lady had always been this bold, but couldn’t she at least consider Arasaka Hanako’s feelings?
Her dad just got flatlined, and Myers comes out swinging, name-dropping Saburo in a scathing retort, acting like New America won the last war.
This wasn’t just a response—it was practically a declaration of war on Arasaka!
Normally, you’d try to talk things out, right? But Myers seemed to be fanning the flames on purpose. Her words backed Hanako into a corner. Backing down now would make Arasaka lose face, and Hanako would lose all credibility. If she wanted to keep control of Arasaka, she had to stand her ground.
“Myers isn’t exactly playing nice,” Riku remarked, unfazed.
Rosalind Myers was ambitious as hell. Ever since she took office, the New American president had been a whirlwind, always prepping for war like some kind of battle maniac, dead-set on reclaiming every inch of America’s legal territory.
A hawk like her wasn’t exactly loved by her neighbors. To Night City folks, Myers was public enemy number one. She’d launched an actual invasion against the city in her quest to unify America—who wouldn’t hate her for that?
Arasaka wasn’t exactly a saintly corp, but Myers? She was no better. Night City’s residents were fed up, wondering when their city could finally break free from these power-hungry bastards and stand truly independent.
“She’s trying to hit us while we’re unsteady, huh? Start a war while we’re dealing with internal chaos?” Hanako muttered, feeling like she’d seen through Myers’ plan.
It made sense from an outsider’s perspective. Saburo’s sudden death left Arasaka’s succession up in the air. A power struggle was the logical outcome. Who wouldn’t want to seize control of Arasaka?
Well, apparently, Arasaka Yorinobu did.
Unlike most, Yorinobu had zero interest in running the show. If she did, she wouldn’t have “revived” Saburo after outmaneuvering Hanako. That kind of move wasn’t something a normal person would pull—only a “family-first” type like Yorinobu could.
So, until Saburo’s death was pinned on Hanako, Yorinobu wasn’t just avoiding a fight—she was actively helping Hanako take the reins, handing over her own supporters and power without a second thought.
No doubt, this was something Myers never saw coming.
Yorinobu was a mystery to the world, so it was easy to misjudge her. People expected a power grab, but the Arasaka family never played by the rules. They thrived on doing the unexpected, pulling off moves that left everyone else reeling.
“Militech’s already reached out to me,” Arasaka Michiko said, confirming Hanako’s suspicions. Militech and New America were indeed cooking something up.
It wasn’t surprising that they’d contact Michiko. The Arasaka granddaughter had a tangled history with Militech, full of mutual interests—or rather, Militech had been holding her past betrayal over her head, forcing her to work for them.
“How should we respond?” Michiko asked, looking at Riku. She wasn’t worried about their threats anymore; it was all up to Riku’s plan now.
“Why not take Myers down a peg? Bring her into the fold?” Hanako suggested before Riku could answer. To her, it was the most cost-effective move.
If they could actually turn Myers into an ally, they could stage a “friendly” war, tossing their troublemakers into the meat grinder and letting them burn out in the chaos.
“First, we’d need to get close to her,” Riku said, not dismissing the idea.
Myers was ambitious, sure, but she wasn’t on Saburo’s level—not yet. Her goals were smaller, at least for now, so controlling her wasn’t out of the question. Her personality didn’t scream “diehard martyr” either; she wasn’t likely to go scorched-earth right away.
But pulling it off was no small feat. Myers wasn’t someone you could just waltz up to. Her security and itinerary were airtight, proven by years of surviving assassination attempts.
Back in the day, decapitation strikes were all the rage in corporate wars—high success rates, high rewards. Top execs from major corps lived in constant fear, which led to the current state of affairs: maxed-out security, airtight secrecy. Unless your closest ally betrayed you, good luck even finding your target.
And Myers just happened to have such a traitor in her inner circle—a wildcard desperate to break free, waiting for the perfect chance.
“Songbird” So Mi, a new kind of “nuclear deterrent.” She wasn’t just a person—she was a walking, man-made bomb designed to breach the “Wall.” Not a physical wall, but the “Blackwall,” a cyber-fortress built by humans and AI to keep rogue AIs at bay.
If the Blackwall went down, the entire net would collapse. Every connected device would become a playground for those rogue AIs.
So Mi’s purpose was to crack that Blackwall open, letting the AIs flood in—a true doomsday weapon. If used, it’d screw everyone, no exceptions.
It’d be a full-on machine uprising, dragging all of humanity down with it.
“Myers, that lunatic, actually went there!” Hanako and Michiko were floored when Riku shared the intel. They never imagined Myers would be reckless enough to create a “mutual destruction” weapon like this. It was like dancing in NetWatch’s minefield, picking a fight with the entire world.
Sure, every major corp was eyeing the riches beyond the Blackwall, but most, like Arasaka, just sent “mining drones” to scavenge. Actually messing with the Blackwall? That was a line almost no one dared cross—not without NetWatch sniffing them out.
Not everyone was like the Voodoo Boys, itching to become AI collaborators or achieve cyber-ascension. Most wanted the Blackwall intact, safe from malicious forces.
“If this got out, Myers would be done for. Forget running for president again—she wouldn’t even finish her current term,” Michiko said.
Honestly, she was the last person who wanted Myers in their crew. Who’d want to work with someone who’d blackmailed them? Especially for what could be a long partnership.
“Why not use this to lure her out, Michiko? Looks like it’s up to you,” Riku said with a grin, handing her the task.
Michiko clearly wasn’t thrilled, but she was the perfect fit. Her tangled history with New America and Militech was now her greatest asset.
As the one who’d been under their thumb, she’d caught Myers’ biggest secret. Flipping the script and using it to gain leverage—maybe even to seize Arasaka’s power—made perfect sense. And for a deal this big, a face-to-face meeting was the only way.
“No in-person meeting, no trust,” Hanako added, clearly pleased with the plan. She figured Myers would likely agree to meet, whether to entertain Michiko’s demands or to take her out for good. Either way, a meeting was the easiest path.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll do it,” Michiko sighed, resigned.
She couldn’t exactly say no to Riku, but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. Still, she was already plotting her revenge. As the one handling oversight, she’d have plenty of chances to make Myers’ life hell if she stepped out of line.
Old grudges don’t fade easily, and Michiko wasn’t about to play nice with Myers anytime soon.
Over the next few days, Hanako steadily consolidated power within Arasaka, backed by Michiko and Yorinobu. Things moved fast, with their forces quickly unified.
She also kept pushing the “Saburo murder case,” pointing fingers at New America and Militech, fulfilling her promise to Yorinobu. Meanwhile, Yorinobu herself arrived in Night City from Tokyo. The ultimate shut-in, who’d rarely left her home, was making her first big trip—and she’d rather have stayed locked away.
“The body’s already been cremated?!” Yorinobu’s voice rose, a rare break from her usual soft-spoken calm.
She was blindsided. Cremating her father’s body without even telling her?
“Brother, what the hell is going on?!”
Even the ever-patient Yorinobu couldn’t hide her frustration. She was pissed, confused—why would they do this? She hadn’t even seen her father one last time!
“Father… didn’t die in a dignified way. I thought he wouldn’t want you to see him like that. And I figured he wouldn’t want anyone tampering with his body, making some half-real replica,” Hanako replied, her expression heavy.
Her reasoning was solid, and it stopped Yorinobu’s anger in its tracks. She’d seen the news—her father had been shot, his body badly damaged. But was it that bad?
“How could this happen?” Yorinobu murmured, dazed.
Nothing felt right. She’d expected tension, maybe an argument when her father and brother met, but not this—a freak accident she never saw coming.
“Your ear…” Yorinobu’s gaze landed on Hanako’s bandaged ear, her face softening with concern and a hint of guilt. For a moment, she’d doubted her brother. How could he kill their father? Even after all their past conflicts, it seemed impossible.
“I’m fine, Yorinobu. Don’t worry. We’ll find the killer and make them pay,” Hanako said, pulling her into a hug. Her voice was firm, her resolve unshakable.
Arasaka began sending more troops to Night City. New America and Militech pushed back hard, and the city’s tension skyrocketed.
Then, Myers got some bad news: her biggest secret had been exposed.
“Michiko, did I underestimate you?” Myers muttered, staring at the meeting invite from Arasaka Michiko, her brow furrowed, her mood uneasy.
“President Myers, you wouldn’t want Songbird’s existence getting out, would you?”
The message made Myers clench her fists. Michiko’s intel-gathering skills were better than she’d thought. No surprise, considering she’d built her rep running a private detective agency. But to uncover this secret?
“A traitor?” Myers’ mind raced, grasping for answers. The timing felt too sudden, too perfect.
“So Mi, come here. We’re changing the itinerary,” Myers said, making up her mind.
She was going to meet Michiko. She had no other choice.
Chapter 280: Meeting and Choices
Song Zhaomei was puzzled. She couldn’t figure out why this sudden change in itinerary had been made.
But it was Rosalind Myers’ arrangement, and as her aide, she had no authority to alter it. All she could do was dutifully organize the schedule for the President of New America.
In front of Rosalind Myers, Song Zhaomei always kept her true self hidden, never letting the slightest hint of dissatisfaction slip. As a “weapon” and personal secretary, she played her role flawlessly, gradually earning Myers’ trust.
That trust was exactly why she’d been able to sell Myers out. Ordinary people wouldn’t have access to the president’s itinerary, let alone be able to orchestrate a missile strike that precisely targeted Myers’ transport.
“Arasaka Michiko?”
Reading the name of the person Myers was set to meet, Song Zhaomei’s mind raced. Meeting Arasaka Michiko at this sensitive time was risky. If word got out, it’d be bad for both sides. The public and their enemies wouldn’t care about the truth—they’d jump to conclusions.
For Rosalind Myers, people might think she was playing both sides: publicly clashing with Arasaka while secretly making deals. It was a classic political maneuver, ripe for scandal.
For Arasaka Michiko, the optics were even worse. Already tangled up with New America and Militech, she’d face even more suspicion within Arasaka. Her ability to help would be diminished. So why was this meeting necessary? And why treat Michiko with such deference?
Sure, Michiko’s status could be useful right now, but was it worth the risk?
Song Zhaomei didn’t get it, but she had no choice but to follow Myers. The president rushed to meet Michiko, almost as if someone had dirt on her.
The meeting was set in a location leaning toward New America’s control, chosen by Myers. Surprisingly, Michiko didn’t argue and agreed to the spot without hesitation.
This decisiveness baffled Myers. Did Michiko really think a single piece of leverage gave her the upper hand? But her apparent carelessness—or arrogance—worked in Myers’ favor. If negotiations fell apart, Myers could take Michiko down. That’s what she got for being so cocky.
In a carefully selected underground base, Myers met Arasaka Michiko—the head of “Danger Girl” and one of Arasaka’s legitimate heirs. Michiko arrived in a single hovercar with just one driver.
The driver, a young man, was so striking that Myers couldn’t help but notice his charm. She didn’t buy that he was just a driver, and neither did “Songbird” Song Zhaomei.
To Myers, Michiko’s arrogance bordered on madness. It even made her paranoid—how could Michiko be this bold?
Soon, the three women and one man, each with their own agendas, entered a meeting room. No other security personnel followed, as secrecy was paramount. Myers didn’t want more people knowing about this, and she wasn’t worried about Michiko or her “driver” trying anything—this was her turf.
As soon as they entered, the “driver” pulled out a chair and sat down, while Michiko stood to the side. This role reversal stunned Myers and Song Zhaomei, who exchanged a glance, momentarily thrown off.
Okay, sure, they’d suspected the guy wasn’t just a driver, but this? Michiko deferring to him? Was he the one in charge?
“This is my first time meeting the President of New America in person.”
The driver, naturally, was Riku. He’d come alone with Michiko, and that was enough.
“Michiko, who is this?” Myers asked, ignoring Riku for the moment, her face full of confusion.
“This is Mr. Devil, my boss,” Michiko replied bluntly.
Myers’ confusion deepened. Since when did Arasaka Michiko work for someone else? Who was this guy?
“First I’ve heard of it,” Myers said, sitting across from Riku, sizing him up. Song Zhaomei, standing behind her, did the same.
Though Michiko was often manipulated by New America and Militech, Song Zhaomei knew Michiko’s power and influence weren’t easily controlled. So who was this “Mr. Devil”?
Both Myers and Song Zhaomei racked their brains, searching for any intel on this mysterious figure.
“Song Zhaomei, how’s your condition? Has the Blackwall started eroding you yet? Are you still… you?”
Riku didn’t bother with their shock, cutting straight to the point.
Song Zhaomei was one of his targets—or rather, he was interested in the Blackwall. He didn’t need her as a “bomb,” but he could help her escape that fate.
His words hit Song Zhaomei like a punch, striking at her deepest vulnerability.
Her body, modified to connect with the Blackwall, was a ticking time bomb designed to take it down. But that connection came at a cost—she was constantly influenced and eroded by the Blackwall’s power.
To put it bluntly, trying to take on the Blackwall as an individual was absurd. Did she not realize the scale of what she was up against? Even as a genius netrunner, Songbird couldn’t hope to withstand the Blackwall’s might. Surviving its influence at all was a testament to her skill.
Song Zhaomei glanced at Myers. The president had to be more anxious than she was—Songbird’s existence was a liability, evidence of Myers’ shady dealings.
It finally clicked for Song Zhaomei. This was why Myers had rushed to meet Michiko—her secret had been exposed.
Songbird smirked inwardly. Myers was in for a rough time. This hit her where it hurt most.
“Let’s skip the formalities. What do you want?” Myers said, her face now expressionless, voice cold. She cut off Riku and Song Zhaomei’s exchange, getting straight to business. They were all busy people—time to talk terms.
“Straightforward, President Myers,” Riku said with a grin.
Myers was capable, a true political animal driven by power, ambition, and legacy. She didn’t respond, just furrowed her brow, waiting for Riku to name his price. Things weren’t going as expected, but if talks failed, the outcome wouldn’t change. Killing one or two made no difference—they couldn’t cause trouble here.
“Simple. We want New America,” Riku said, leaning back casually.
Myers let out a scoff, and even Song Zhaomei looked stunned. She glanced between Riku and Michiko, both calm, confident, as if they held all the cards.
Where did they get this courage? This confidence?
“Are you seriously not afraid to die?” Myers asked, almost laughing in disbelief. Even with her composure, Riku’s audacity was too much.
“Oh, you got us there. We really aren’t afraid,” Riku replied, grinning like he was picking a fight.
Myers, seasoned as she was, was at a loss for words. She’d never met someone as reckless as Riku.
She glanced at Michiko, who stood quietly, unfazed by Riku’s bold claims, as if she, too, wasn’t afraid of death.
If Michiko was fearless, why had she been feeding New America and Militech intel, helping them dismantle Arasaka’s influence in the region?
“Song Zhaomei, do you want to break free from this?” Riku asked.
What came next was even more absurd to Myers. Despite her thinly veiled threat, Riku not only claimed he wasn’t afraid but also tried to sway her subordinate. He was treating her like she wasn’t even there!
Slap.
Myers slammed the table, giving the order to act. Take them down—clean and quick.
Boom!
The meeting room door burst open, and New American agents stormed in, opening fire on Riku and Michiko without hesitation. Gunshots echoed through the room.
As a former frontline operative, Myers didn’t flinch at the gunfire. But when the bullets aimed at Riku were deflected by a dark shadow, her eyes widened. Now, she was rattled.
Buzz!
Riku struck. A shockwave sent the agents flying, and shadows swept through, enveloping Myers, Song Zhaomei, and Michiko. The entire room was cloaked in darkness.
“Alright, let’s talk seriously now,” Riku said, still seated—the only one still seated.
Myers, no longer calm, stood tense. She realized this “Devil” could kill them easily.
The careless ones weren’t Michiko or this Devil—it was her. She’d thought she could control the situation on her turf, but she’d let a wolf into her den.
“It’s that Night City bio-monster,” Song Zhaomei muttered, her eyes flickering with recognition.
Riku’s shadow manipulation and “Devil” alias made it clear—he was David Collins, the “Immortal Demon.” And Song Zhaomei’s mind went back to his earlier question: “Do you want to break free from this?”
Could this bizarre bio-monster actually help her? The thought took root. Their shared origins—both products of experimental labs—gave Song Zhaomei a spark of affinity for Riku. Like Lucy’s initial reaction to him, there was a sense of connection.
“You…” Myers started, but before she could finish, Riku flicked a drop of blood toward her. The transformation began—crude, direct, no preamble.
For Myers, Riku was blunt. If she wouldn’t cooperate, she could die. She was just a bonus anyway—if she didn’t play ball, maybe her successor would.
“Can you fix my problem?” Song Zhaomei asked, ignoring Myers’ predicament, her eyes filled with hope.
If she could escape the Blackwall and return to normal, she’d give anything. The constant erosion was unbearable.
“For me, it’s simple,” Riku said with a nod. All it took was removing her modifications. Death from the process? With him around, that wouldn’t happen. His tail’s healing ability could handle it—remove and heal simultaneously. Only he could pull off such a stunt.
“Please, you have to help me! I’ll do anything!” Song Zhaomei pleaded, no shame in her voice. If Myers could be subdued, why couldn’t she ask for help? Her bigger worry was that Riku might not need her, especially since he was bold enough to demand all of New America.
“I can save you, but that doesn’t mean I have to. Why wouldn’t we want you to stay as you are—a strategic weapon that keeps most people in check? What can you offer us?” Riku tilted his head, eyeing her.
(End of Chapter)
