"I swear, for Hella's sake, I've never been this happy to see a corporate tower in my life."
Oliver gazed at the approaching Arasaka Tower, listening to Hella's armor panels groaning and creaking as they flapped and scraped against the wind. He sighed.
"She's gonna need a full overhaul after this."
"At least after those two ambush waves, nothing serious came our way. Just a few small-time punks trying to stop us—but they were easily dealt with. Hella doesn't have to suffer anymore," Jack said, shaking the nearly empty grenade box and giving his depleted Saratoga SMG a once-over. After swapping in a fresh mag, he turned to the comms.
"T-BUG, are there still any netrunners on our tail?"
"Almost all of them are handled."
T-BUG, who had been locked in a running battle with a wave of hostile netrunners since the escort mission began, finally had time to speak.
"Some of them are probably being purged by Arasaka's internal teams. It was a mess at the beginning—my bad, I underestimated them and let them get a lock on your position. But after you took care of those two attack squads, I regained control, masked your signal again, and now I'm just finishing the cleanup."
"Sounds like you've been about as busy as we are," Jack said.
"Not quite as dangerous, though."
T-BUG replied to Jack's comment with a dry tone.
"They weren't trying to breach my system or burn out my neural implants—or maybe they were, but they didn't have the numbers or the skill. Their focus was all on tracking. I just needed to shut that part down."
Lying back in her netrunner chair, soaked in sweat, T-BUG looked at the positioning data. The team was almost at the company plaza. She sat up and stretched.
"Looks like you're just about there—within range of Arasaka's local net. That means I'm done here. Mind if I go take a shower and leave the wrap-up to you guys?"
"Get some rest, T-BUG."
Karl, understanding better than anyone that going toe-to-toe with multiple netrunners wasn't as easy as T-BUG made it sound, approved without hesitation.
And at this point, she really wasn't needed anymore.
If rogue Arasaka personnel managed to infiltrate their own HQ while Karl's crew was already inside the tower perimeter, that wouldn't be the team's responsibility anymore—it'd be time for Kenichiro Arasaka to take a hard look at his own house. After all, Arasaka's netrunners couldn't all be worthless, right? If they were, Karl might just consider leaking that tidbit to Militech—surely they'd be interested.
As the team rolled into the corporate plaza, Karl's comms pinged with a connection request. The ID looked unfamiliar, but it included a flagged keyword: "Weapon Template."
Weapon Template...
Karl recalled that Kenichiro had mentioned a subordinate he hadn't yet contacted. He allowed the request through.
"My apologies for the unexpected contact, Mr. Karl."
A polite male voice came through, respectful and measured.
"I regret that we haven't met before, yet I've taken the liberty of reaching out. My name is Kazuya Kenichi. I'll be assisting you and your team with access to Arasaka Tower."
"Kenichi?" Karl asked, watching the tower grow larger in his windshield. "What's your relation to Mr. Kenichiro Arasaka?"
"Mr. Kenichiro is my uncle, by blood."
Uncle. That meant Kazuya's father was Kenichiro's brother—making Kazuya his nephew.
The business card Kenichiro had given Karl back then was full of encrypted intel. It only had a contact ID—no name, no profile. So until now, Karl hadn't known who this assistant was. Hearing the name and learning the connection, it made sense why Kenichiro had said that for smaller matters in the future, Karl could deal directly with this subordinate.
His nephew. Of course.
So that's how Arasaka operated—a classic family-run empire. Not only were the top executives bound by blood, even the mid-level ones were all relatives.
Now that the identity was clear, Karl switched to speaker.
"So how do we get in? Just drive through?"
"To prevent interference from Militech or other corporations," Kazuya responded in a voice full of archaic politeness, "please increase your vehicle's speed and proceed straight ahead. I've instructed the security and tactical personnel to clear a route for you. Mr. Kenichiro Arasaka is waiting at the main entrance. Please disembark there with the required item. Your vehicle will be guarded by our personnel."
So many fancy words just to say "Drive fast, get out, someone's waiting."
Karl raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of environment bred this sort of overly formal speech.
He glanced at Oliver, who had heard everything through the speaker. Oliver said nothing—just kept driving.
Sure enough, just as Kazuya said, the moment they neared the Arasaka Tower, a wall of security and armored ops teams stood guard outside the entrance. When they saw the heavily damaged Hella rolling toward them, they didn't even bother with a security check. They simply stepped aside and opened a path.
No inspection at all.
Did Kazuya confirm their ID through the connection? Or did they believe that even if potential threats got through, it wouldn't pose a danger to Kenichiro?
Karl figured it was likely the first—but the second possibility said a lot, too.
Looking back, Karl spotted a small crowd gathering around the plaza—civilians in mixed clothing, a few wearing Militech uniforms.
Judging by the gear, they were probably low-level Militech employees. Even though they clearly had no idea what was going on at Arasaka, they'd still rushed over to gawk.
Karl had to admit, there was a certain commendable spirit to it. Though if they'd had the sense to take off their Militech uniforms first, it'd have been a bit more professional.
At the tower entrance, Kenichiro Arasaka stood alone—no guards, no escort, hands clasped behind his back. His posture was calm, unmoving.
As the car slowed and neared the stop point, another signal came from Kazuya over comms. Oliver stopped the Hella and turned to look at V.
V nodded, clutching the container. He and Karl got out of the car together.
Jack and Oliver remained inside.
Kazuya had said Arasaka personnel would "guard" the vehicle. But neither of them trusted corpo security with their ride. Besides, for the handoff, Karl and V were enough.
As the two stepped out, Kenichiro approached quickly.
Before Karl could even say a word, Kenichiro extended his hand.
"Here is your payment," he said, handing over a storage chip.
As soon as Karl took it, Kenichiro followed up.
"And the item?"
"V has it," Karl replied.
"V?" Kenichiro frowned slightly. "I thought you were carrying it. This isn't secure."
He turned to the mercenary who had exited the car with Karl—someone he hadn't really looked at before.
But when Kenichiro's eyes fell on V, his frown eased. His gaze lingered for a second longer than expected.
This merc in Karl's crew... now that I take a closer look... he might be more capable than he seems.
.
.
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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