Wado Ichimonji, one of Roronoa Zoro's first three blades, and the strongest among them.
The blade gleamed faintly under the harsh lights, white steel against the blackened air. One swing — and Adam's killing blow was stopped cold. A second — and sparks flew, leaving a burning mark on the cyborg's arm.
Adam Smasher froze, red optics widening. Surprise turned to grim delight.
A human, an unmodified one, had blocked his strike.
An organic body with no chrome, no synthetic implants. That had never happened before.
If someone had told him this yesterday, he would've torn them in half for the joke. But today, standing in front of this sword-wielding man, even Adam Smasher had to believe his sensors.
"You little piece of shit," Rebecca snarled, her voice a mechanical growl. "Eat a taste of my Thunderburst Shotgun!"
Rebecca's temper snapped the instant she saw Neo take a hit. Anyone could hurt her — but touch him, and it was over.
The Thunderbolt core in her rifle crackled alive, arcs of blue lightning crawling up the barrel. With a primal yell, she fired.
BOOM!
The air sizzled. The shotgun blast erupted like a mini-storm, lightning coiling across Adam Smasher's armor. For a moment, his hulking frame glowed bright as a forge, arcs dancing over every plate.
Adam laughed, static bursting through his vox.
"Nice gun. Decent plugins, too. If I were anyone else, that shot might've fried my systems."
He stepped forward through the crackling light. "But me? That won't even itch."
With a hiss, his left arm unfolded. From within the alloy plating, a massive crimson Mantis Blade snapped out, the edge humming with energy.
The air changed.
The cold sharpened.
The entire penthouse filled with killing intent.
"I haven't used this one in a long time," Adam murmured, running his optic over the blade. "Almost forgot it was even there."
His voice deepened, mechanical yet strangely human.
"Thirty years ago, I put down Morgan Blackhand with this very arm. You know him? One of the last men who ever pushed me this far."
Then his grin widened. "Be proud, fleshling. You're the reason I get to use it again."
...
Adam Smasher — the battlefield's executioner.
The walking apocalypse.
He was born from war, built for slaughter, and he made his name killing legends.
He'd lost count of the bodies he'd shredded. Only a few names ever stayed burned into his memory — Johnny Silverhand, a stubborn fool who died standing.
Morgan Blackhand, the rival who nearly matched him blow for blow.
And now, tonight, a new name joined them.
The nameless swordsman before him.
Adam could feel the killing intent radiating from Neo's blade. Not just hostility — something purer, heavier, older.
Sword intent.
It stirred something he hadn't felt in decades: excitement.
...
He vanished.
One instant, Adam was across the room — the next, he was behind Neo, his crimson Mantis Blade slicing for the neck.
"Is that all?"
Neo's voice was calm. "After all that talk, this is all you've got?"
With the enhanced awareness of Observation Haki, every move Adam made was clear as light.
Neo sidestepped, Wado Ichimonji whistling through the air.
CLANG!
Steel met steel. The blades locked, vibrating with lethal energy. The crimson edge of the Mantis Blade flared, its temperature rising until it could cut through titanium like paper.
But against Wado Ichimonji…
It held.
Adam's optics widened again. "What the hell kind of sword is that?"
His sensors whirred, scanning the weapon. "A cold katana blocking my Mantis Blade? Impossible. What is that thing?"
Neo's expression didn't change.
"You're not worthy to know its name," he said quietly. "But don't worry. Before you die, I'll tell you."
Still holding Wado Ichimonji in his left hand, Neo drew a second blade with his right — a nameless black katana.
He struck.
SHIIING!
The strike cut clean through the air, carving into Adam's abdomen. Metal shrieked. Circuits tore. A chunk of his armored midsection fell to the floor, oil and coolant splattering across the marble.
Adam staggered back, roaring, servos whirring. He raised his cannons, ready to unleash the kind of firepower that could level a block.
"Adam," Saburo's cold voice sliced through the chaos.
"If you fire in here," the old man said softly, "you'll take us all down with you." He turned toward the shattered window, gesturing outward.
"Drive the rats outside. Then kill them."
Adam snarled. "You senile fossil—"
Rebecca's voice cut through him like a bullet. "Who the hell are you calling a rat, you wrinkled corpse?!"
Her gun roared again.
"Eat thunder, old man!"
The blast of lightning erupted, a storm of electric fury tearing toward Saburo Arasaka.
For a moment, the world froze.
If that bolt hit…
CRASH!
A flash of steel cut across the air — a figure moved faster than sight.
CLANG!
Two slashes in an instant, precise and deadly. The lightning dispersed into harmless sparks.
"Lord Saburo!"
The newcomer stood in front of the patriarch, sword drawn.
Goro Takemura — loyal bodyguard, the blade that guarded Arasaka's throne — had arrived.
Rebecca cursed under her breath. "Damn it!"
"Rebecca, move!" Neo grabbed her wrist. With a single motion, he pulled her toward the window. They leapt.
There was no hesitation.
Neo could handle Smasher. He could even match Takemura. But protecting Rebecca while surrounded by Arasaka ninjas and corporate spec-ops outside?
That was suicide.
"Fall back!" he shouted.
They disappeared into the night just as Adam Smasher burst through the shattered glass after them, roaring in pursuit.
Inside, Takemura stood frozen at the window's edge. To chase or not to chase — either path could mean disaster.
Saburo's voice broke the hesitation.
"Go, Goro. Bring them back — alive or dead."
Takemura bowed sharply. "Yes, my lord."
He vanished into the storm after them.
The once-pristine penthouse was now a ruin. Shattered glass. Scorched walls. The scent of ozone and oil.
In the middle of it all, Yorinobu Arasaka sat on the floor, stunned, hollow-eyed.
Saburo approached, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was sharp as ever.
"So," he said coldly, "you truly meant to kill me?"
Yorinobu shook his head, trembling. "No… no, I didn't! I swear I didn't!"
Saburo's eyes narrowed. "The people in the vent — they were yours, weren't they? Goro warned me before he left: someone was hiding here. And this is your suite. The highest floor of Konpeki Plaza."
His voice turned to ice.
"Without your permission, no one could've entered. Who were they? You brought them into my house. Into Arasaka's heart. To kill me?"
Yorinobu stood, desperate, hands trembling.
"You're twisting it! You— you don't know what you're saying!"
But the Emperor of Arasaka had already made his judgment. And Night City trembled at what came next.