The message came to him in the middle of the night, of what he was to do. He was to be present as one of the security guards in a direct meeting between two gang leaders, between Saito Sota and The Beast, of the Animals. He was to be one of the rare few given the honor of defending the life of the overall leader of the Tyger Claws.

The news was only soured when he learned of why the meeting was taking place. The Tyger Claws had attacked the Animals during the Night of Long Guns, acting on behalf of an executive that was executed immediately afterwards. This… was a great stain on the honor of the Tyger Claws, he kept himself calm when he had learned of it as best he could.

His baby sister was in their home, probably asleep, it would not do to let out his frustration here. He would save it for the Arena. He had learned well, over the last few months, that anger was a weapon as sure as the sword in his hand.

That and his sister would no doubt whine endlessly about being woken up so early in the morning. She was a brat with no manners, and no appreciation for her big-shot big brother. He grunted, and finally dragged himself out of bed to start getting dressed. Boots and pants, haramaki, shirt, and sleeveless coat. He had wanted a longer coat, but then his bratty sister had mocked him about trying too hard. He held her down and tousled her hair until she surrendered for that one.

He scratched at his chest while opening the fridge to get the RealMilk out. The skinweave was itchy, but the doc told him that would be normal for a while. He narrowed his optics at what he saw. Barely a cupful of white liquid left in the jug. He growled as he reached for the Lentil Flakes and poured them in a bowl, resolving to eat slightly drier breakfast than normal. He would have to buy more later, because of course he would.

He crunched angrily in the barely lit room, chewing through his breakfast as fast as reasonably he could. Choking on cereal would mean Motoko would never let him live it down, even if he was reasonably safe while she was asleep. Best to not risk it at all. He lifted the bowl and drank the nutritious but bland… soup?

What was cereal anyways? It was like a cool liquid with solids in it. Cold soup? Stew? He pondered this mystery as he swallowed the last of it.

Once finished with his meal, he rose and threw away the disposable bowl and spoon. He glared at the trashbag, so close to full already, filled with bowls of cup noodles. Huffing, he crushed the contents down and tied up the bag to throw it out as he left in a bit. Walking over to the closet and grabbing another trashbag, he opened it up as quietly as he could to put it into the trashcan. Then, a final check over what he had and what he had to bring. He secured his handgun and sword no his waist, grabbed the filled trashbag, and reached for the door.

"...Jun?" A sleepy voice called to him, he turned to see his baby sister looking through her partially-opened door frame. He hadn't been quiet enough. He grumbled.

"Go back to sleep Motoko. I've been called in early today."

She stared at him, bleary-eyed. He stared back, waiting for an answer. She was still half-asleep, so it would take a while for her to process what he had just said. Well, awhile compared to his now enhanced reflexes.

"... The Smashzone's open?" She asked.

He sighed. "No, I've been ordered to act as security between Saito-sama and another gangleader."

She stared at him through half-lidded eyes for a bit, before stumbling out and over to him, hugging him around the waist.

"...Don't die, gonkhead, idiot, stupid." She was clearly tired, for she was never this affectionate with 'her annoying onii-chan' while fully rested. He snorted before hugging her back with one arm.

"It's just security for a meeting, I'll be fine, go back to bed."

She stayed still for a bit before unlatching and stumbling back to bed, and closing the door. He called out as she stumbled away "Don't get into trouble while I'm gone." To which he received a somnambulant grumble in response. Troublesome baby sister.

Grabbing the filled trashbag again, he opened the door and locked it behind him, stepping through the apartment complex halls until reaching the trash chute and throwing it down. Then he walked down to the garage to get on his motorcycle. He had about thirty minutes before he was expected, and the location he was given was about fifteen minutes away. He didn't particularly need to rush, but being early would give a good impression.

Getting on his bike, and starting it up, he felt some tension in his shoulders dissipate at the familiar purr. The tension was always there, in his shoulders. He was told it was caused by his chrome arms, they were a bit heavier than normal, and unlike arms of flesh and blood they couldn't dissipate tension with stretches.

The tension sat there, and did nothing. It was annoying, but the arms were well worth the cost of some minor irritation. He could split an armored borg in half with his monothree now, he knew this because he had done it a week before in the Arena. It was a Maelstrom fighter, one with armored plating and a set of barbed Mantis blades called 'Preyman'. That fight was difficult, but not the hardest he's had yet.

He lightly slapped his face to focus, and pulled out of the garage.

The Demon Tyger of the Pacifica Arena, Kusanagi Jun, drove out to perform his duty.

—

The old man breathed in slowly, savoring the smell of his wisteria tea for a moment. The aroma was a familiar and comforting one, only diminished by the weight of his iron collar. A constant annoyance and shackle around his neck, required for him to breath and survive. A neck made of chrome instead of flesh and blood, every breath entering his body was surely poisoned by its influence.

He raised the cup to his lips and drank slowly, the way tea was meant to be enjoyed. After a proper sip, he let the cup rest in his hands and pulled back to look around the room. The chosen meeting place was a small home located squarely between Pacifica and Westbrook. A building rented out from the Valentinos, who agreed to act as a neutral party in these affairs. That was important, a contract holder than neither party could influence easily, that would keep most honest about what was agreed upon. Such things were required for such negotiations.

The Valentinos were the most numerous gang, located between Tyger and Animal territory, and hated the both of them. They made for an ideal third party to administer this event.

The building they were in was sealed from the outside elements, the radioactive winds were going to rage for months before it was cleaned up, and minimizing one's time outside was simply practical. He had gotten here early, mostly to let his bones rest after such a trip. Such was the burden of getting old, and he hadn't been a young man since before the Time of Red. Trying to negotiate while in pain was generally considered a poor idea.

To his right and left were two of his executives. They had been given the task of representing parts of the greater gang during the negotiations, Akuhara was to represent the honorable half of the Tyger Claws, while Azegami was to represent the more pragmatic and economically minded half of the Tyger Claws. Such was an efficient method to lower the total number of individuals who needed to be present for meetings this important. If this turned out to be a trap that they couldn't have foreseen, then the Tyger Claws would have enough executives alive to still survive without them.

It was a dangerous duty, one that Akuhara and Azegami were more than happy to perform. Akuhara performed it out of a sense of duty and friendship, while Azegami performed it out of a sense of fearless pragmatism. Both were worthy to sit next to him if they were to all die. That was not an honor he would extend to most members of his own gang.

The honor of the Tyger Claws has only continued to diminish over the years, to his great shame and loathing. Infighting, vice, treachery had filled much of his lower-level subordinates, and he could scarcely afford the time to dedicate to correcting it with rivals continuing to grow in power. His protective militia had turned into a band of robbers and bandits, and he could do little to correct it without opening himself to the other powers of Night City. An old anger filled his heart at the thought.

It mattered little now. Now he was old and his claws were dull, doubtlessly one of them would end up poisoning him. Even if he knew of the poison, he would still probably drink it to rid himself of the fools around him. He might as well sit in a barrel without a scrap of cloth to gird him, for all the wealth he had in these days. A man, a barrel, and a sword. That's how he started, that's how he would end if he had any less sense of responsibility.

So Saito Sota sat in a chair, drank his favorite tea, and waited for the other half of this meeting to arrive.

His bones still ached, his brow furrowed in frustration. If the Night of Long Guns had not happened, then those dishonorable wastes he had sent to die against the animals would be gone, and no information about their actions would be known. But now, it was known that the Tyger Claws had been attacking the Animals, and by proxy, Pacifica. Even worse, it was on behalf of a probable traitor, considering the immediate death of a fifth of the Arasaka executives after the night was over and Yorinobu was installed as President of NC. One of those was likely working with Shaitan, which meant that the Tyger Claws were used as an unwitting pawn of a squirming rat.

His rage broiled under his skin, kept placid by the sea of self-control he had built up over a long life of violence. The situation the Tyger Claws was in… was the worst it had been in in a very long time, as bad as before he took control of it. He let loose a long breath, and took another drink of tea. All he could do was keep moving forwards, keep moving and dealing with the consequences of his actions until he was killed.

There was no point in regrets. Not anymore.

He heard the stomping of armored feet long before the leader of the Animals entered the room. He was flanked by only two of his fellow Animals, the old brute probably thought he didn't need any protection except himself. He was probably right about that.

He sat down in the slightly too-small stool, and Sota locked eyes with him through that steel dragon helmet. Not the sensors on top, but right through the teeth, where the true eyes were. He pictured those malevolent red optics clearly. After all, they were the same model as his own.

Himself, his executives, and his two guards made up the Tyger Claws.

The Beast and his two fellows made up the Animals.

The gentleman in the suit and his four guards made up the Valentinos.

Thirteen people in a room made it just barely within the threshold of 'not being cramped' but it was a close thing. This was irritating, but acceptable. The close proximity would mean that a fight would be less likely to occur among the professionals. The inverse was true among those who were inexperienced in combat. That, and the radiation outside made outdoor meetings a bad idea. He held himself back from cursing the dead, that would be rude and he was a consummate professional.

The gentleman spoke. "With the arrival of the Animals, the meeting has all attendees accounted for. Is there any business that must be attended to before the meeting begins?"

The Beast rumbled through a steel mask. "No."

Saito growled through a chrome collar. "No."

The man nodded, and spoke again. "Then let this meeting begin, the recording of this meeting begins now. You may speak when ready." Then leaned back to simply observe, as was his only purpose in being here.

The Beast wasted no time, the brute charging right into the meat of the meet, as it were. "Tygers killing Animals, unprovoked. Tygers must pay."

As this was expected, Akuhara spoke up, performing his role. "That is quite the claim. What is your evidence for such?"

The Animals flanking rustled in irritation, halting under a side-eye glare from the Beast. The Beast turned back and replied in his signature tone, voice rolling like a distant thunderstorm. "Recorded confessions from Tygers trapped."

At this Azegami spoke, performing his own role in the conversation with practiced ease. "A man can say anything, what is your evidence that they were actually Tyger Claws?"

The Animals almost growled, kept in check by the flexed battleglove of the Beast, who countered. "NCPD records… indicate allegiance." The brute spoke slowly and deliberately, and while he wasn't particularly smart, he was cunning in his own way. A message was sent to all parties, just a collection of attached files of the various men the Animals had captured. Useful for knowing who he could execute later for this blunder. They were already supposed to be dead, dishonored for their failures and needless waste of Tyger resources, that's why they had been assigned to this mission.

He took another drink of his tea, and let his rage simmer. Azegami continued, "And if the Tyger Claws do not agree to pay whatever it is the Animals demand?"

The Beast chuckled like an avalanche. "Adam Smasher is informed."

This was to be expected. To borrow a phrase from his youth, the Animals had them by the balls. It was quite infuriating. All he could do now was negotiate the demanded payment down as low as possible. He set his tea down, and locked eyes with the Beast.

"What is your demand, Beast?"

The Beast stared at him with a snarling mask. "An open duel. In the Arena."

He narrowed his optics, what was he getting at here…?

Azuhara spoke. "An honor duel is all you demand? How will the champions be deci-"

He was cut off by the Beast speaking, which was tremendously rude. "No champions. A duel."

…Ah, he sees now. He couldn't help it, and a brief chuckle escaped his iron throat. It began to build until he was laughing in full, and could not help himself for several moments. His executives kept placid faces, but he could tell they were confused, as was everyone else in the room except for the Beast.

Finally, he settled down, his old ribs aching from the humor. "You just wanted one last shot at me, didn't you Ryuzaki?"

Ryuzaki rumbled in confirmation and crossed his arms. He almost smiled to himself, this was just like the old thug. He hadn't changed a bit from their days together in Inquisition.

He took a sip of his tea, and continued. "To the death, I imagine?" At Ryuzaki's nod, there was muttering from the less professional Valentinos and Animals. The Tygers knew to stay silent. He let his tea rest in his hands. "The stakes of the duel?"

Ryuzaki spoke. "If I die, Animals leave Pacifica, recommend Tyger Claws as good guards." He nodded at this, waiting for the Beast to continue. "If you die, Tyger Claws new boss is determined by strength."

He considered this for a moment. He hummed in thought. "Elaborate."

"Open tournament, sixteen fighters, winner is the new Tyger of Westbrook."

"Open tournament?"

"Open, Tyger Claws, full of snakes. Must be open to be trustworthy."

He growled at those words, even if he couldn't deny them. Finishing off his tea to calm down, he set the cup down and closed his eyes in consideration.

After a small while, he opened them again and stared at his once-comrade. "The Tyger Claws will have a month to prepare this, and arrange it with the Pacifica Arena."

"A day."

"Three weeks."

"A week. Animals will arrange it with Arena."

Saito relented and nodded at this. "Very well, the Tyger Claws agree to those terms. We will duel in one week's time."

The Beast didn't waste time, standing up and leaving the room immediately, followed by his subordinates. He politely requested some privacy from the Valentinos to speak to his subordinates alone. They nodded and left, he had rented his room for the next two hours, they would be fine with it.

Waiting for the Valentinos to leave, he addressed his subordinates. "You are wondering why I accepted." It was a statement of fact.

"I am growing old, I will soon enough die from any number of things. This kind of death provides many unique opportunities to the Tyger Claws. A duel between two old warriors, and a tournament to determine the successor is a thing of theater and we have the opportunity to bring that to reality."

"Azuhara, you are to select a group of sixteen of the best warriors in the Tyger Claws. Make sure they are loyal, otherwise you are to use your best judgment. You are to make the conditions of this duel public among the warriors, but not the reasons for it."

"Azegami, you are responsible for the wider public learning of this, you will make the story dramatic and thus, marketable. If properly capitalized upon, this could earn the Tyger Claws a great deal of public support and wealth. Emphasize the overall narrative and more honorable and martial side of the Tyger Claws in your propaganda departments."

"Both of you are to make sure my successor doesn't do irreparable damage to the Tyger Claws by acting as advisors and keeping the other executives from taking advantage. I'm sure you'll both take this chance to greatly expand your own influence regardless."

"This could be a massive boon to the Tyger Claws, instead of a great setback, should we all perform our roles well."

He stared them in the eyes, one after another.

"Compared to that, one old man's life is cheap."