"One-Sword Style: Lion's Song!'
The white arc of the slash tore through the night. For a single breath, the blade's light became the only color in the world — and then it devoured everything.
BOOM!!!
The cannon fire from Adam Smasher was split apart, shredded mid-air, its energy erupting into a burning sun. The shockwave shook Konpeki Plaza, splintering the glass façade into a rain of glittering shards that fell like snow through the neon sky.
Adam's crimson optics flared, locking onto the pale blade in Neo's grip — Wado Ichimonji. He chuckled, metallic and amused.
"Heh. Nice toy you've got there, fleshbag."
Then, with a mechanical snarl, his back armor split open. Two thick gun barrels extended like wings of death.
BOOM!
The barrels released a round glowing with blue plasma. It screamed through the air at hypersonic speed, faster than a bullet could be seen, a blur aimed straight at Neo.
Adam Smasher never came unprepared. Every inch of him was weaponized perfection. Those cannons were fused with Arasaka's Windrunner module, pushing the velocity of each round beyond the sound barrier.
The hypersonic shell was a streak of death — and in that same instant, a new figure dropped from the smoke above.
Goro Takemura.
The samurai descended blade-first, obeying Saburo's command to pursue. His strike was perfect, fast, and merciless.
Neo now faced two legends of violence. One was a relic of steel and fury. The other, a blade that once guarded gods.
He could fight either. But both together was another story.
So he drew his second sword.
Wado Ichimonji in his right hand. The nameless blade in his left.
His voice was calm as he crossed them before him.
"Nitoryū — Basic Sword Style."
The first strike cleaved the hypersonic shell in two, detonating it harmlessly into the air. The next movement came without pause — a backward spin, his twin blades forming an X as they intercepted Takemura's downward slash.
Steel howled. Sparks flared like dying stars.
In Cyberpunk 2077's story, Takemura had been the pinnacle of swordsmanship — even when his cybernetic systems were crippled, he was still formidable. And now, fully restored, the man was a living katana.
Experts recognize one another in a single clash.
Neo's blade met his — one cut, one block — and they understood everything they needed to.
Takemura's eyes softened with a flicker of respect. "I didn't expect to find a true swordsman in this world of chrome and guns. Shame…"
He sighed quietly. "If you were Arasaka, we could've been comrades — warriors bound by the sword."
Neo's expression didn't change, but something like amusement touched his gaze.
He knew Takemura's kind — the last of the loyal. A man whose world began and ended with honor, meditation, and duty to Saburo Arasaka.
A man too rigid for his own good.
If Takemura had been a different man, an empty drone who killed without reason — Neo would've cut him down already. But this one… this one still carried something human.
Neo stepped back, forcing distance between them. His voice was steady.
"If I were Arasaka, we would never be friends. And if we could be friends through the blade, then I wouldn't care if I'm a cyberpunk or you're Saburo's loyal dog."
He turned his head toward the night sky, where Adam Smasher's shadow dropped toward him again like a meteor.
"So," Neo called, his tone light but edged, "what's it going to be? Saburo sent you both to kill me. Are you coming together — or one at a time?"
Adam's laughter echoed like tearing steel. "Together? Don't insult me." He shot a glare at Takemura. "Since when has Adam Smasher needed help to kill?"
Takemura's voice sharpened like his blade. "You have no authority over me, monster. Lord Saburo wants his head, and I will take it myself. Stand aside."
Adam's optics narrowed. "So you want me to step aside while you take my prey?"
"Exactly," Takemura said, unmoved. "Leave now, before you embarrass yourself."
"Not happening."
Their words clashed before their blades could. Neo stood between them, forgotten for a heartbeat as two predators glared at each other, too proud to share a hunt.
A strange calm filled him. He should've felt cornered — one man against a monster, a samurai, and the Arasaka strike teams closing in from all sides. But his heart was still, almost tranquil.
And then he heard it — the familiar chime in his mind.
[Roleplay Synchronization: 50% Achieved.]
[System Update: Role Milestone Reward Granted.]
[Congratulations. Threshold 50% reached. Reward: Haki Expansion Unlocked.]
[Observation Haki: Already Acquired.]
[Reward Details: Armament Haki Unlocked.]
[Bonus Reward: Exclusive Weapon — Cursed Blade "Shusui."]
For a second, Neo froze. Then a grin broke across his face.
So that's why he felt so calm.
His "Roleplay Degree" had been stuck at 49% for days, teasing him. Now it had finally clicked over. The air seemed clearer, sharper, filled with promise.
Armament Haki surged through him like black fire, invisible yet absolute. His body felt heavier and lighter at once, wrapped in unseen armor. Every heartbeat hummed with latent force.
The system whispered in his mind:
[Armament Haki — Forms Unlocked: Ryuo / Hardening / Imbuement / Projection / Internal Destruction.]
[Energy Consumption Ratio: 1:2. Energy spent, double restored.]
In other words… infinite.
Neo flexed his fingers. Power crackled under his skin. He raised his eyes again — at Adam Smasher descending like a falling star, and at Takemura poised for another strike.
"Come then," he said softly.
Wado Ichimonji gleamed white in his right hand. The newly manifested Shusui flared dark crimson in his left.