"It wasn't me."
Neo's tone was calm, steady, his gaze clear under the amber light of Wild Wolf Bar.
"Arasaka Saburo is dead, yes—but not by my hand, and not by the Edgerunners."
He wasn't the type to explain himself. Normally, he would've let rumors spread like wildfire, let the city drown in its own assumptions. But this was Pepe—Jackie's old friend, a man who'd poured him a drink, offered him a seat, and spoke with genuine curiosity instead of malice.
So Neo chose to give him that much.
...
Last night, he had led the Edgerunner crew into the Azure Hotel—a corporate fortress in disguise. Their goal had been simple but deadly: infiltrate Arasaka's most secure suite, the penthouse belonging to Saburo's heir, Arasaka Yorinobu, and take something that wasn't meant to exist outside corporate vaults.
That something had changed the course of Night City overnight.
Rumors had exploded across every corner of the sprawl. Everyone thought they knew the truth—that Edgerunners had struck the unthinkable blow, that they had killed Arasaka Saburo and his monstrous enforcer, Adam Smasher, in one breathless night of blood and chaos.
And honestly, who could blame them?
Because the night was chaos. The Azure Hotel, Arasaka's shining jewel, became a warzone. The building—owned, guarded, and controlled entirely by the megacorp—turned into a slaughterhouse before dawn.
Dozens of corpo agents, ninjas, and mercenaries had died, but that wasn't the story. The story was the names on the casualty list.
Adam Smasher.
Arasaka Saburo.
The first, Night City's living apocalypse. A cyborg so powerful that even legends like Johnny Silverhand and Morgan Blackhand had fallen before him. Entire sagas began and ended with that name. And yet, last night… he died.
The second—Arasaka's emperor. The man who ruled the corporate empire like a god. His arrival in Night City's airspace alone had sent every megacorp into silence—Militech, Biotechnica, Kang Tao, all of them watching and trembling. No clearances. No warnings. He just appeared.
By every protocol, his aircraft should have been shot down the moment it entered restricted skies. But who in their right mind would pull the trigger on Arasaka Saburo?
And yet, the unthinkable happened.
He died.
A war machine and an emperor, both gone within the same night, in the same building.
No one in the city could stop talking about it. The Azure Hotel incident was already being etched into the dark history of Night City—an event that would ripple across the world, far beyond the neon borders of the NUSA.
Neo stroked the orange cat resting in his arms, his voice level as he added, "But yes—Adam Smasher was mine."
Pepe froze. Then, slowly, his shock melted into laughter—loud, disbelieving, but full of respect.
"You killed Adam Smasher? Ha! Neo, my friend, that puts you on a whole new tier of legend."
He slammed a fist on the counter. "Even Johnny Silverhand couldn't finish him. Not even Morgan Blackhand—Smasher considered him the only man worth fighting—and even he couldn't guarantee victory! And you, you did it?"
Pepe shook his head in awe. "You didn't just make history, choom. You rewrote it."
Neo remained outwardly calm, but inside, his pride hummed like a live wire. So this is what it feels like to be praised like that, he thought.
Feels damn good.
When he'd said it himself—I killed Adam Smasher—it had sounded matter-of-fact. But hearing someone else say you're a legend—now that hit different.
He chuckled. "It wasn't just me. The Azure job was a team effort. Every one of the Edgerunners had a hand in it." He raised his glass slightly. "It's not about one man making history—it's about all of us doing it together. That's what makes it real."
Pepe grinned. "You've got the right spirit, Neo. Damn shame I'm not a merc. Otherwise, I'd sign up with you in a heartbeat."
"Everyone's got their own gift," Neo replied. "You? You make art in a glass. Bartending's a craft—and every craft's got its own kind of power."
Pepe blinked, then burst out laughing again. "Well said, choom. Too damn well said! That's worth another drink!"
...
Three rounds later, Pepe was slurring, Jackie was swaying, and Neo… was still perfectly sober.
"Hah… can't see straight," Jackie mumbled, eyes unfocused. "Bro, we've got the best crew in the city, yeah? Feels good… to have brothers."
Pepe had long since face-planted on the counter, muttering something about "mixology and destiny."
Neo sighed, amused. "Lightweights, both of you."
Cyberware had changed everything—even how people got drunk. With half their organs replaced by metal and filters, it took only a few drinks before built-in processors kicked in, flagging "inebriation detected" and triggering chemical dampeners.
Convenient, sure—but it stripped the soul out of drinking. Even being drunk wasn't real anymore.
Neo set his glass down and stood, the orange cat hopping gracefully to the floor. "Don't bother seeing us off, Pepe. Go sleep it off."
He waved once, slinging Jackie's arm over his shoulder. The cat padded quietly alongside as they stepped into the cool night air.
Jackie reeked of alcohol, rambling incoherently about brotherhood and friendship, about the Edgerunners, about how lucky he was. Neo wrinkled his nose.
"Good thing we're friends," he muttered. "Otherwise, I'd have left your drunk ass in the bar."
Thankfully, Jackie's place wasn't far.
A few stumbling steps later, they arrived. Neo fished out a key from Jackie's pocket, unlocked the door, and nudged it open.
"Huh?" Jackie blinked, suddenly lucid. "My… place? I'm home already?" He smiled, half-asleep. "Make yourself at home, bro. I'm just gonna… rest for a sec."
He stumbled into the bedroom, and within two seconds, the sound of thunderous snoring filled the room.
Neo just shook his head. "Classic."
He set the relic case on the table, the smooth chrome of its surface reflecting the flickering light from outside. Slowly, he unlatched the lock.
Inside lay the Relic. Untouched. Intact.
In the game's original timeline, things had gone differently. After jumping from Yorinobu's penthouse, the case had shattered in the chaos. To save it, the chip had been jammed into a neural slot. Then came the No-Tell Motel… and Dexter DeShawn's betrayal.
That single shot had changed everything.
Johnny Silverhand had been reborn from that chip.
But here—things were different. The chip was safe. Neo didn't even have a neural slot to insert it into.
Which meant… no Silverhand.
No voice in his head. No ghost from the past.
That could've been a relief—but it also meant the story might never unfold the same way.
His eyes drifted toward the blade hanging at his waist.
The strange sword he'd taken from Yorinobu's suite.
"Unregistered Katana X."
It wasn't a traditional katana. It looked like one—but there was something wrong, something off about it. Too perfect. Too deliberate.
Neo's fingers brushed the hilt, a thought flashing through his mind.
Could the sword and the Relic be connected?
Not impossible.
The thought sent a spark down his spine. He tightened his grip on the hilt, feeling its hum—like a quiet pulse, faint but alive.
Under the soft hum of neon outside, Neo smiled faintly.
"Let's see what secrets you're hiding."