Yorinobu Arasaka was frustrated with his Father.
Even beyond the grave, his puppets managed to aggravate him. On a day where he wished for nothing to disturb him, it seemed the world must come knocking.
Besides the phone call with his sister, the members of the board of directors had taken a keen interest in the most recent security incident.
Koji-san had prostrated and accepted failure for what occurred, but the board couldn't care less.
What they cared about, was blood in the water.
Arasaka blood.
The company now looked weaker than it could be allowed to.
With stocks taking a dip only a day after the public recordings of the Tower Breakout had hit the Night City scream sheets, they had decided to react.
Drastically.
And the focus of their reaction was V, the Thief, the individual responsible for the cut in public appearance.
They'd taken away Yorinobu's reputable bodyguard and personal piece of muscle, Adam Smasher.
Yorinobu was aware that the board had reviewed footage of the incident, allowing them to see how capable Adam Smasher was in combat, especially against the irregular organic.
So Smasher had been reassigned, effective immediately.
He had been repurposed into one of Arasaka's wetwork teams… one of the better ones, to be sure, but now outside of Yorinbu's direct sphere of influence, he would execute the intruder.
But Yorinobu needed the Thief alive.
Because even while it would be beneficial to both his rule as Arasaka's CEO, and the company itself to have their public disgrace buried in a ditch with all the others...
He needed the Relic.
And the way the Board wanted the situation resolved?
Well, Yorinobu did not need to be a genius to know there wouldn't be much left of the body. He'd seen Smasher work, he'd reviewed information of this 'Henry Kincaid', and how he conducted his 'kills'.
Quiet was rarely a descriptive word for his work, but at least the Board was not foolish enough to let Kincaid and his team cannon off into Night City.
And the man had acquiesced.
But the heat of battle was an entirely different field, than of the promises made in offices and over phone calls.
Yorinobu could not risk the technology, and leave it up to chance.
He needed to know that he was an active element in the field, that his order mattered and could be executed by his will alone.
His father would not win this.
The doors to his office pinged, and as they swung open, through them walked the chromed monstrosity.
"Sir" Adam Smasher rumbled, coming to stop just far enough from away from the doors in order for them to swing shut behind him.
Yorinobu looked to him with a slight smile, the words coming to his lips.
He would not leave this up to chance. Not that the board would know. There would be no recording of the conversation that was about to happen. In this space, he was guaranteed the privacy to speak what he wanted to.
This was the kind of freedom he had dreamed of, long before he knew what kind of man his father was.
"I would like to make you a new offer, Smasher-san"
Shifting through a crowd came naturally to Takemura. The art of subtle movements was one of his fortes, darting into gaps yet still maintaining enough space between people as to avoid potential engagements.
Being discrete was a blanket necessity for his life.
But he considered himself more than just proficient in stealth, and most that had witnessed his prowess would agree… if they were still alive and able to.
Now, Takemura would never brag about such skill, nor would he proclaim to be the best… but of his own talents, he admittedly had an eye for such skills displayed by others.
Being openly aware that he was traveling with V was the only reason he was constantly able to notice the Thief.
V had wanted a nice place to talk, a private location that was reliable. Takemura, not being a Night City local, agreed to whatever the Thief had planned.
And so a small restaurant that V used to frequent for such conversations was selected.
Little China, Madame Yang's.
And they were walking there.
Acquiring a vehicle right now was not only difficult, but a poor idea. As soon as Takemura had made it into the center of Watson, he had noticed two things.
The first being the increased police presence and numerous officers on standby, and the second being the true extent of V's movement capabilities.
Any time a police vehicle, or on patrol officers appeared around a corner or throughout the crowd, Takemura automatically obscured their line of sight of him.
V?
He vanished.
Like a wraith or a shadow he would suddenly be submerged into the throng of people, only to surface once the law had been avoided.
It was incredible. A few steps behind one man, a sudden change of pace and direction, hunching of the shoulders….
He had excellent control over his body, and an acute awareness of his environment. Every time Takemura had observed V, or he was coming to some kind of understanding as to what the Thief was truly capable of, it left him with the same question:
Who trained him?
Because someone must have.
Some agency, corporation or even government must have given him some kind of training.
These kinds of skills are not taught, nor grasped so easily, especially for someone this young.
Digging had given him nothing. Even Takemura's contact within Arasaka had surmounted to a total sum of nothing. NCPD database, citizens registration… there was nothing.
Which typically meant he was tied to some kind of Black Ops program, clandestine operations of the sort.
But there was no trail, no information or records that even top clearance at Arasaka had unveiled.
So...
Where did V come from?
The Thief was beside the suit before Takemura had even noticed, suddenly occupying the space a portly man on a Holo call had previously been.
"Left here"
Little China had an abundance of large scale buildings, projects that had been completed back in the 2030's and 40's, and new work that still hadn't been totally christened.
The alleyway V had chosen pointed the two of them toward one of the unfinished monstrosities, a gaudy 8 story structure, short in comparison to its residential neighbours.
It's a commercial building after all, filled with shops and stores, unremarkable and dirty like most of the Night City structures.
We closed in on the entrance fairly quickly, the few people milling around not paying us much attention. There were three men standing close together by a vendor, one of many that littered the opening floor.
A food vendor, being talked up a storm by the woman that the men were standing around.
Takemura was sure they were gang members.
V marched right on past them, slipping around people as he made for the closest lift.
Takemura followed.
He noticed one of the gang members flash him a look, poking his friend in the shoulder. Goro didn't turn around, keeping as close to V as possible. The lift lobby was just around the corner, tucked away but near the staircase and fire escape.
The Thief spoke.
"Friend's of yours?"
Takemura looked toward V, who had already tapped a request for the lift. He was facing him, looking out over Goro's shoulder into the slow flow of people.
"No" Takemura replied, "but one of them seemed to recognise me"
"I noticed" V's eyes flashed, his head nodding upward, indicating something behind the ex-Arasaka bodyguard, "incoming"
Takemura remained calm as he turned around. Frankly, he couldn't care less about four Night City gang members, or whatever perceived problem they had with him.
However, the fact he had gotten their attention was interesting.
They must have recognised him somehow. If it was the look and outfit, maybe the hoodlums thought they could score some easy eddies on a suit that went sightseeing down the wrong alley.
However if they recognised his face, if they knew who he was based on his features...
As Goro turned to face them, he registered two gun barrels pointed at him.
Two of the male gangers, grimy and dirty, each with hand guns pointed at him flanked the other two.
The woman, bald and scarred had her arms crossed and a smirk across her features.
"Poor little suit. Backed yourself into the wrong corner, hombre"
Goro, not seeing many other options for the situation, raised his arms in surrender.
"What do you want?"
The one on the left, darker skin and a mangled forehead with light cybernetic work, edged closer. He was almost within range.
"Your bounty, fool. Shouldn't go walking around so publicly with a price on your head"
'So they did recognise me'
The woman made to speak, and whether it was a taunt, an order, or just an idle comment, Takemura would never know.
A hole exploded out the back of her head, the soft spit of a suppressed handgun whispering out from behind the Arasaka suit.
She collapsed backwards, drawing the attention of the other three.
"What-"
Three more spits, and the corpses of the other three joined her on the floor.
They were killed within a total of two seconds between one another.
"Takemura"
The ex-bodyguard spun as V placed a hand on his shoulder.
Behind them, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival.
"Let's go"
V stepped into the lift.
Takemura glanced at the bodies on the floor, and at the curious eyes in the lobby. Oddly enough there were no screams or shouts, just individuals hanging back and observing.
This kind of thing must be normal in the building.
"Goro"
Takemura moved away, following the Thief into the large freight lift.
The doors snapped shut and they began to rise.
'Madam Yang's huh?'
After Smasher had been called away due to orders that came up from way on high, Kincaid had pointed us to the next step in our planning phase.
And a wonderful new revelation for myself.
The true depths of our unit's equipment expenditures was unfathomable. Looking at the weapons locker alone was apparently 'but a scratch' of our Arasaka resource pool.
Seemed like a lot of fucking eddies to me.
In the large 20 by 10 meter space, what looked like enough munitions to arm a small country was laid out.
I'm talking hand guns, assault rifles, shotguns, marksman rifles, and all the ammunition required to fire said weapons for a year.
Between these large weapon racks were individual parts and compatible devices, that when I scanned, revealed their true nature.
Weapon mods.
A whole metric fuck ton of them.
"Our noses to the ground for only an hour, two hours, tops-" I stood next to Mike as I surveyed the long rack of weapons, idly toying with a modified Yukimura "-and we get a positive hit already?"
The prep room was adjacent to this room, the one Kincaid called 'the Locker', and we'd been standing in there mulling about while we waited for any kind of go ahead.
Wolf and her subordinates had located something.
Body report and subsequent footage out of Chinatown had followed their departure of the NID.
They'd given the slip to local law enforcement, and considering short of MaxTac doing street side drive by's, the NCPD would have considerable trouble finding Arasaka's quarry.
Let alone detain or eliminate.
The target, one Goro Takemura, had been sighted entering and leaving the Northern Industrial District.
More importantly, he'd also been traveling with priority numero uno.
Arasaka's most wanted in Night City, and my mortal enemy;
The Mercenary and survivalist bomber, V.
"Wolf's good at what she does" Mike commented, slapping a magazine into his rifle.
"So she is a girl" I nodd, getting one hell of a derisive glance from Mike. Even though I'm not thinking like that, I was just curious is all.
But I know his type.
Gruff guy, prefered a handgun, straight to the point, no nonsense, that kinda shtick.
His full name was Michael 'just Mike' Ehrmantraut, something that rang a bell somewhere deep within my head but wasn't getting any results.
He turned away from the weapons rack, moving into one of the corners of the Locker. His corner, apparently.
On the large semi circle desk was a modding station, a smaller weapons rack, ammo boxes, and some portraits.
Selecting my own set of weapons and strapping them to my body, I forgo the customisation step at my own workbench and wander over to Mike.
He's got his back to me as he toy's with the rifle, adjusting it to the minutely specific specifications only he is aware of.
Before I can even open my trap to start talking;
"What?"
It's a dry question, filled with a tinge of annoyance and frustration, but not grumpy enough to get me to turn tail.
"Just curious" I placate, raising a hand in my defense. I realise a second later that it's my newly attached metal hand.
Mike sighs, puts his now slightly longer and scoped assault rifle down on the toolstation, and turns to face me.
He's slightly shorter than me, stocky, and with a bald and stern face. Not quite shallow cheekbones, but a constant look of man who lived a life or two of experiencing bad first impressions.
That, or his nearly half lidded dull eyes had experienced far too much disappointment from other people.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you what happened to the cat, when it wanted to be curious?"
He was still sharp though.
Exactly how I imagined a professional to be.
I grin, "I was under the impression cats have nine lives"
His frown remains in a now uncomfortable silence.
But he hasn't turned around to ignore me, so he's obviously waiting on the question I've got backed up my throat.
"How d'you know Kincaid?"
His right eyebrow cocks itself, magnificently so. I would later learn this is his way of expressing surprise or curiosity.
"What's it to you?"
"As I said, just curious"
Mike grunted, his stance shifting slightly as he considered me. Or atleast, considered something about me in a new light.
I hope it was favourable.
"Fought beside him in the war" Mike tilted his head slightly, "saved my skin. Been working for him since"
"I see"
That's interesting to know. They've obviously worked with one another for a long time then, but Mike seemed older than our enigmatic leader, something that just scratched my investigative itch. For no particular reason, only for the fact that Mike seemed like a grizzled vet, just not a grunt.
So something tells me there was more to that story, but not a story I would be privileged to learn on my first day at my new job.
Call me crazy, but I liked to know who I was working with.
Besides Smasher, I knew next to nothing about the others. Vi being the only other one with some kind of public history.
Mike was obviously Kincaid's number two though.
He'd be calling the shots on the ground once we deployed.
Speaking of-
A comm line connected with ours.
"Rack your gear ladies" Kincaid's voice came through crystal clear.
"We're rolling out"
I hurried over to my own toolstation, quickly grabbing ammo and some grenades. I was the last out of the Locker, quietly stepping into the lift that would take us to the landing pad.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.
This entire situation was exciting and foreign, so yeah I might have a bit of the jitters.
The lift came to a stop.
Bright light seeped through the door, revealing the Arasaka tower's rooftop, and a very Preem looking assault chopper...
Here we go.
The ornate door to Yang's was shut, the single monitor that dominated the center of the smoothly decorated surface being dark and unlit.
A normal day.
The corridor of the sixth floor was empty, but I knew there were people around. Yang liked to have guns at the ready, just in case clients and patrons became hostile.
Behind many of the doors in the hallway were a hefty number of guards, ready and waiting for a red alert.
Takemura glanced up and down the corridor suspiciously, keying into the oddness of the very empty and clean hallway.
He had a good head on his shoulders. Goro was shaping up to be a very competent ally, one that had pulled through when I needed him-
"Don't make me sick"
Johnny Silverhand, the engram stuck in my head, the terrorist rocker boy and Night City legend, materialised like the phantom he was.
Leaning against the wall beside the door, his shaded visage was directed at me.
"Can you even be sick?" I thought to him.
Turns out, speaking out loud wasn't necessary in order to communicate with the spirit that haunted me.
Not even my thoughts were private anymore. I wasn't sure to the extent of which he could listen in on my consciousness, but he felt the need to comment on nearly every observation I made.
At the question I directed to him, I could feel his glare deepen.
"If I could I would. I'd even aim for your Corpo output"
I glanced at Takemura, whose back was turned to me as he studied the corridor, wondering what Johnny found offensive about him.
Johnny must have heard this.
"A suit's a suit"
That perplexed me. Goro had done nothing but assist me up until this point. And a small part of me felt that this deserved some defense.
"Takemura is my ally. If you can't accept this I'll ask you politely to keep quiet"
"Or what?"
…
He really was going to do this?
"Yeah" Johnny began to drone on after my silence, reaching for a digital cigarette "that's what I-"
I began to think of my past. Of memories of my childhood. My birth. The time before Pacifica, before Jackie, before Padre.
Old memories. What I am, and what I have been brought into this world to do.
And because I was thinking of it all, I knew Johnny was thinking of it all as well.
"Jesus. Okay" he brought a hand up to his head, "I get it"
I focus back on the door.
But before he blinks out of existence-
"Don't say I didn't warn you"
I place a hand on the door's screen. Not my entire palm though, just the tips of my fingers. There's no electronic reaction, but the microphone to reception is on and receiving any noises from the door.
"Table for two, private booth"
My ID check is confirmed, and the large bolts of the door open, allowing it to be swung open. I grab the large handle with my new metal hand and swing it open.
A lady in a very tight oriental dress is standing on the other side. Her body is completely gold.
"Welcome to Madam Yang's" she bows lightly, "if you would follow me" she gestures behind her for a moment before flowing away.
Her movements were elegant and sleek, befitting of the hazy and ostentatious air of the restaurant.
The smell of jasmine and herbs is thick in the air and slowly seeping out into the hallway.
I step inside yet remain aware that Takemura is on my heels, head on a swivel. He's nervous.
As he should be.
Yang's isn't a public establishment, nor one you where you can request to join.
"Invite only" as I had been told.
The corridor inside yang's let us to a security turnstile. One with a small processing booth. Yang always checked for explosives, and on any other time here I'd always had mine confiscated.
Why-
I shake my head.
Now is not a time to be reminiscing.
"Please" the attendant gestures to the booth, asking us both to step in. I obliged, with Takemura only hesitating a second.
The smaller scanning room was the last step before we entered the restaurant proper.
"I have not been to a place like this in a long time…" Takemura grumbled, his eyes boring into the side of my head, "You are no Thief"
I met his gaze.
"I was like you once… a long time ago" he observed, the unrelenting intense observation of his eyes failing to unnerve me.
The room beeped an affirmative, before the door in front swung open, revealing the restaurant.
Yang's was composed of 12 booths, capable of seating four people per booth.
This wasn't the kind of place for large groups of people.
Two booths were occupied at the moment.
It also wasn't the most popular of places. A good thing.
"We're not here to talk about me," I reply, gesturing ahead of me, and therefore allowing Takemura to choose our table.
His gaze shifted into something else as he swept by me.
I didn't get the time to understand what that something was.
"And there's no need to care about your Corpo's concerns" Johnny now stood a few feet in front of me, gaze fixed on Takemura's back "he can back up everything I've already told you... and if he doesn't he's useless"
His head turned to me, half cocked over his shoulder. I could barely see his right eye over the frame of his shades.
We remain staring at one another for a moment before he breaks it with a shrug.
I frown, but he flickers out, comment dropped into my lap without a care in the world.
Accepting the situation for what it was worth seemed the only course of action right now. Obviously there were factors in play I was unaware of.
Mainly speaking; Johnny Silverhand, Arasaka's mortal nemesis Rocker boy terrorist, had been inhabiting their latest cutting edge piece of technology.
Why?
Saburo Arasaka had come to retrieve what equated the final remnants of Arasaka's biggest public failure on American soil?
No.
I was missing something.
But no matter how outlandish the situation seemed, what Johnny had already tried to tell me… it seemed plausible.
And so even though I would not admit it to the smug Engram, a part of me agreed with him, understanding the importance of the situation.
Said importance was the reason we were at Yang's in the first place.
I needed this establishment in order to speak with Takemura for a few reasons.
Firstly, I needed a secure and private location. This doubled for Takemura as well, considering the sensitivity of the information and the topic of conversation. He wouldn't want to be revealing any of Arasaka's dirty laundry within the potential earshot of another living soul.
But secondly, and most importantly, I needed something to validate the insanity of Johnny Silverhand being in my head. And that cannot come from Silverhand, the construct who lived outside its containment within my head.
My head.
….
I needed to confirm what Silverhand told me.
...and if Takemura proved to be useless, I'd let Vik take a look.
He wouldn't question the new chrome, but he could tell me enough about what exactly was going on inside my head.
"V?"
I snapped my gaze to Goro, who stood outside an empty booth, the privacy screen's door being held open by him.
"Nice choice" I walk past him and slip through the door, into the booth.
Inside there is a table branching out from the wall. A small conveyor belt lines the table, and a hatch rests on the wall. Food isn't brought into the space, it's fed into it from the wall.
Customers preferred it that way.
No contact with the staff while discussing business with one another.
I knew there was a kitchen, but I'd never seen it.
Four arm chairs surrounded the table, padded and soft ones too, very comfortable. I took to the closest seat on the left side of the table.
As soon as I was seated, a rectangular portion of the table lit up, revealing the menu.
That was new.
Looks like Yang has still been upgrading.
Takemura sat opposite from me, his gaze focused on me as I ordered tea. Really needed a beverage right now, and a small pot of green tea didn't sound so bad.
What little silence that had grandfathered its way in was shattered by Takemura, taking the reins of the conversation.
"It will not be long before Arasaka discovers us again"
'Get on with it'
I place my order and relax back into the seat, both my arms on the rests as I solemnly gaze at Takemura.
"Soulkiller"
His face twitches.
"Arasaka's boogeyman, the program that can snatch up any nosy Netrunner in mere moments"
The hatch in the wall opens, drawing both of our eyes for a moment.
My tea wheels itself out before stopping in the middle of the table.
A black ceramic pot and one cup.
"It's real" I finish, daring Takemura to object to such a statement.
He nods, only once and with a sharp movement.
I continue.
"And you don't use it on just anyone though, only the people that really earn it, the ones that find their way under Arasaka's microscope, for whatever reason"
Goro says nothing.
He refutes nothing.
"Good, bad…" I lean forward, and begin to fill my tea cup, "or worse. Soulkiller is Arasaka's divine punishment"
The cup is filled, steaming and warm. From the lip of the black ceramic, I can smell the herbs of the tea.
Nothing quite like Yang's tea.
"So Goro" I take a sip, "what do you know about Johnny Silverhand?"
A raised eyebrow is my response.
Jackie Welles didn't think much about death.
He never really had.
From his days in the Valentino's, working with V, and then staring down the gun barrel of an Arasaka Attack drone… the only Afterlife he had frequently thought about, was the Afterlife.
And becoming a Legend.
With V.
His best friend.
It had been a childish dream, one of a person who never really accepted the world he had occupied.
The top ranks of Night City wasn't to be traversed by those with clean souls, and bright expectations.
It was a cold place, equal parts Frigid and hostile.
A lot like this place.
It was dark again, but probes and questions weren't poking at him. He wasn't aware of the time, or where he really was.
It changed.
Like some kinda fucked up Brain Dance.
Sometimes he'd be with him and his dad, or meeting V, or dinner with his mamá… but mostly it would be Konpeki, the night at the tower.
And from the darkness, they'd come.
Voices and pain, striking at him and asking him questions.
About the job, about him, about who hired him? Whoever these gonk's were… there'd be hell to pay when he got out of here.
When…
Strange concept, in a place where you can't tell time… where you don't need to breathe, eat, or take a leak.
But you were there, able to think to yourself, and spend time, aiming to remember. Jackie didn't remember how he got here…
Fuck.
No point thinking on that right now.
"Agh, esa chamba te va a matar" he muttered to himself.
Alone…
But then the memory of Konpeki Plaza sparked up again.
And it was all there, in vibrant glory! Sure he spent his time freaking out a bit, when Saburo Arasaka got offed. But damn, first job out of the gates and he was doing great! He met Saburo Arasaka, the Emperor!
It was crazy thinking about that.
Jackie knew that.
But sometimes he just couldn't stop, thinking about Konpeki Plaza.
How him and V, his associate and friend, had been contracted by Dexter DeShawn to steal the Relic device from Yorinobu Arasaka.
The job request was given by Evelyn Parker, and at DeShawn's order, Jackie met with the client.
She was the security leak at Konpeki Plaza.
Jackie and V made it to the penthouse, and proceeded to steal the Relic device.
Saburo Arasaka arrives.
Saburo Arasaka then dies, putting him in one hell of a shit show.
Had to Delta really quick, Jackie thinks. Managed out the window thanks to T-Bug, his Netrunner.
But what about when you saw Saburo Arasaka, and Yorinobu Arasaka and then he dies. Putting him in one hell of a shit show.
Had to Delta really quick, Jackie thinks. Managed out the window thanks to-
Oh.
That's weird.
It felt..
Slow now…
Cold…
Like..?
Jackie didn't know what was-
…
…
Was-
T-Bug, right?
Huh?
T-Bug, the one who helped you? Right?
Right. Yeah. T-Bug helped us out, managed to open a window. That was… that was just after I met Saburo Arasaka! A legend of Night city!
Meet him?
Oh right, yeah. Didn't really meet him. Hiding from him and his scary ass security guard is more like.
...and the others.
Who else was there?
Not only did we get to see the Man himself, but Yorinobu Arasaka, the old man's son was there. Adam Smasher! Dios Mio, that was fucking nuts. Right through the glass a few feet away, all of them, and a bodyguard.
Did anyone leave?
Yeah. The Emperor called his dog off. Nearly sniffed us out. Smasher left too, so they didn't see what happened.
And what did happen?
….
What happened?
Loco…
Mister Welles, what happened?
I saw it…
Saw what?
Saburo Arasaka was killed by his son, Yorinobu Arasaka. He was strangled to death.
Thank you Mister Welles.
And then he was out the window again, taking fire as the Arasaka drone opened up on them. Him and V, sliding down the slanted roof of Konpeki plaza.
Man what a rush.
Sure he'd caught some lead, but Jackie wasn't scared.
Because Jackie Welles didn't think much about death.
He never really had.
AN: Thanks for the follows and reviews y'all. There's a reason we're number 5.
See y'all soon.