Brigitte and Placide had been trapped in cyberspace for eight hours.
They thought they were done for—until the seemingly delicate yet unbreakable ICE suddenly collapsed, and the two finally regained their freedom.
"What's going on?" Brigitte muttered. "That was just a routine attack. Why did the ICE suddenly—"
"Because we're too strong, obviously." Placide—arrogant as always—crossed his arms. "Unless they've got a whole server farm behind them, no Arasaka netrunner could've stalled us this long. Boss, take control of the NetSec grid. We've wasted enough time."
Brigitte frowned for a moment… but it made sense.
She seized administrative control of Konpeki Plaza's network and logged out with Placide.
"Done. Elevator access to the 100th floor secured. Turrets and cams in the top-floor suite—offline. Saburo's only bodyguard is Adam Smasher, and he left earlier. Room's empty."
Placide cracked his knuckles. "I can't wait!"
They left the Blackfish Suite and headed to the elevator.
The ride from the 42nd floor to the 100th would take a few minutes. Perhaps because of nerves, both were completely silent.
But while they kept quiet, the encrypted comms channel was anything but.
"Current wind direction: west-by-north. Surface wind speed: Level 2. Upper-air wind speed: Level 4. Temperature: 21.4°C. Humidity: 33%. AV heading southeast. Displayed speed: 52 km/h. Actual airspeed: 51.724 km/h. Combined data predicts arrival at Konpeki Plaza in 3.12 minutes—approximately 187 seconds. Data refresh every fifteen seconds."
"Elevator ascent speed: 1.5 m/s. Distance to 100th floor: 263 meters. Estimated time: 175.33 seconds."
"Too slow. Increase to 2.5 m/s," V ordered.
"Speed increased. Recalculating… elevator ETA: 105.20 seconds."
Eighty-two seconds of operational window.
Plenty.
V never expected the Voodoo Boys to accomplish anything anyway—they were only here to take the fall.
Inside the elevator—
Placide stiffened suddenly. "Boss, something's off."
Brigitte's expression darkened. "The elevator sped up. Arasaka can't even maintain stable operations?"
Placide smirked triumphantly. "Too easy. The ninjas have fallen this far. Night City belongs to us—belongs to the mighty Haitian people!"
"It will, Placide. One day the Voodoo Boys will rule the world. Today is merely the beginning."
Their conversation was transmitted word-for-word to the comms channel, but no one cared about the nonsense these two imbeciles were spouting.
Night City might change owners someday—but it sure as hell wouldn't be these brain-damaged Voodoo Boys.
The elevator chimed.
Ding.
The doors opened onto the lavish top-floor suite.
"Wow!" Placide gasped. "Saburo Arasaka's kid really lives good!"
He then spotted the iguana by the door and froze. "Wh—what is that?"
Brigitte scanned the room, turned her head, and said casually, "Iguana. Looks like a Lesser Antillean subspecies."
"An animal? Which tastes better—this or chicken?"
"That thing? There are maybe ten left in the world."
Placide's eyes lit up. "Then I have to try it."
Before Brigitte could react, he grabbed the iguana by the neck and snapped it cleanly. Blood splattered across his expensive suit. He stuffed the corpse into his inner pocket like a stolen snack.
"Fuck—do you have any idea how valuable that thing is?!" Even Brigitte cracked for a moment. But she only swore once before returning to business. "Get the Relic."
A section of the floor rose, revealing a concealed safe. Brigitte jacked in. A moment later, the door hissed open, revealing a high-tech container crafted from next-gen composite materials.
Sixty centimeters long, fifty wide, fifty tall—a large suitcase.
Placide snatched it up and stared at the screen, ecstatic. "Biochip integrity: 100%. This is it! We did it!"
Brigitte pulled out her jack. "Move!"
They rushed back toward the elevator—only to discover it had gone down and was now rising again.
"What the fuck!?" Placide barked.
Brigitte checked the Konpeki cams—and her face turned as green as mold.
"Saburo Arasaka—he's coming back!"
Placide's confidence shattered instantly. Sweat poured down his forehead. "Wh—what do we do now?!"
"Hide!"
"Where?!"
Brigitte spun in desperation. "Find somewhere! You idiot!"
But the suite was designed for panoramic views, wide open, with nowhere to hide.
They searched frantically—until V, unable to bear watching them suffer, remotely opened the concealed maintenance cavity behind the TV wall.
Predictably, the two buffoons scurried toward it without hesitation.
"This panel's for maintenance… but why did it open by itself?"
Brigitte finally realized something was wrong.
Placide didn't care. The elevator was moments away. The once-fearless brute trembled like a fish flopping on dry land. "Boss, get in, get in! Saburo's coming!"
Brigitte abandoned thought and crawled into the cramped space with Placide.
V's voice echoed calmly over comms: "Time."
"Saburo Arasaka will reach the suite in 12 seconds. The AV will arrive at the rooftop in 33 seconds."
"Good. Turn the Blackfish into spectators."
The hidden panel closed. Brigitte and Placide exchanged wide-eyed, horrified looks.
"Boss… that was you?" Placide whispered.
"No!" Brigitte hissed.
"Then how—"
"Something's wrong. Someone else is here. There must be another party!"
Another party?
Placide was about to ask when—
The suite lights flicked on.
The elevator chimed.
Ding.
Saburo Arasaka stormed out, fury radiating off him, Adam Smasher towering behind like a steel executioner.
"Fuck—Adam Smasher! We're dead, we're actually dead!" Placide nearly convulsed, sweat dripping like rain.
"Shut up! This isn't soundproof!"
They held their breath, muscles locked.
Compared to their panic, the comms channel was eerily calm.
"AV has landed. The whale has surfaced. Step interval 0.7 meters, pace 1. Distance from helipad to suite: 22 meters. Three stair segments. Total 55 steps. Estimated contact with the calf in 38 seconds."
Inside the suite—
"Have they arrived yet?" Saburo demanded.
The room AI replied, "They have reached the helipad and are on their way."
"Report the calf's vitals."
"Blood pressure: 162. Heart rate: 141. Sympathetic nervous system active. Elevated adrenaline and noradrenaline."
"He's too tense. He might explode prematurely." V's voice entered the comms: "Koch, cool him down."
"Copy," Joanne Koch said. "Switching HVAC to directional airflow. Wind level 3. Diphenhydramine 60. Doxylamine 120."
"Not too much. We still need him for the performance."
"Relax. Those meds suppress rather than soothe. The more you suppress, the stronger the rebound. I promise he'll be harder than rebar when the climax hits."
"Alright. You're the expert."
A breeze swept across the room.
Saburo Arasaka Jr.—Yorinobu—slowly calmed down.
He sat elegantly on the sofa, sipped wine, even texted Evelyn back.
For the first time, he felt… unafraid of his father.
He pondered this.
Perhaps he'd grown.
"I've endured so much. I'm not who I used to be. Today—I fear nothing."
"Whale has arrived."
Footsteps descended the stairs.
First came a middle-aged bodyguard.
Then—the old man himself.
Even though everyone had expected this moment, the comms channel still filled with sharp intakes of breath.
Because this frail, elderly figure was one of the highest beings atop the world—a creature with a human appearance who stood above humankind—
A god.
Yorinobu kept tapping his datapad.
Saburo descended slowly, hands clasped behind his back, examining the décor with detached scrutiny.
Father and son did not look at each other.
No words.
Yet the air crackled with silent warfare.
Saburo's bodyguard began scanning the suite.
When he reached the TV wall, Brigitte and Placide nearly died from holding their breath.
"Do we stop him?" Meredith Stout asked.
"No," V said. "Konpeki recently replaced all its optical lenses with Kang Tao's new high-polymer quartz glass. Upgraded hardware."
"…meaning?" Stout asked.
Xu Zhong answered proudly:
"Meaning this glass blocks most optical scanning. Unless he switches to sonic imaging, he can't see those two geniuses hiding behind it."
Indeed, the bodyguard found nothing and moved on.
"Fuck—Chinese glass is god-tier," Stout muttered. "I'm getting some for my office."
"And my lab," Koch added.
Xu Zhong nodded. "I'll arrange it."
Finally, father and son spoke.
Saburo struck first, criticizing the decor.
"Night City is as vulgar as ever. This spot needs an animal to balance the energy. Michiko is still too young."
Yorinobu set his tablet down.
"Michiko has much to learn, yes—but her father is dead. The grandfather who should've protected her abandoned her for decades in Night City. You have no right to judge her."
"I don't like her. Raised in America. Her mother—a lowly Japanese-American. Entrusting her with Arasaka's Night City branch was charity."
Yorinobu's disgust deepened. "Your arrogance. Always nauseating."
Saburo ignored the insult. "Let us speak privately."
The bodyguard protested. "Arasaka-sama, I haven't finished my sweep—"
"No need. He is my son. I trust him."
"Shall I retrieve the stolen item?"
"Leave it to me. You may go."
"Yes, sir."
He left with Adam Smasher.
"Showtime," V whispered in the comms. "Koch."
"Already watching," Joanne said. "Switch to recirculating airflow, level 2. Begin monitoring. Hydrochlorothiazide 25—to prep for erectile response."
Inside the suite—
"You've grown," Saburo said, approving his son's composure.
Yorinobu showed no gratitude. "We agreed. You stay out of my affairs."
Saburo's tone shifted. "Something of mine is missing. Did you think I wouldn't know?"
"I know you know," Yorinobu said coldly. "And I don't care."
"Calf's BP rising. Sympathetic activation restarting."
"Now!" Koch snapped. "EPO 20! Codeine 15!"
Yorinobu, who should've stopped, suddenly added:
"I don't give a fuck!"
Saburo blinked. The boy had never sworn in front of him.
"If your late mother heard such filth, she would be very disappointed."
"Don't talk about my mother!"
Yorinobu seized the wine bottle and smashed it.
He shot to his feet, eyes burning.
"Your arrogance—disgusts me! You expect everyone to obey you. But I won't—past, present, or future!"
"BP's at 180!" Koch laughed. "Saburo's helping more than I ever could."
But this time, V wasn't leaving things to fate.
"You don't understand what you're doing," Saburo said gravely.
"Spare me. The whole world is your enemy, right?"
"Yes. All except me. And you would hand our legacy to the West—to China—to outsiders. You would give away the future—"
"This isn't about the future!" Yorinobu snapped. "Everyone has a right to their own path. You only care about your twisted ambitions!"
"You're wrong. People are ignorant and weak. Someone must rule them."
"No—you made them ignorant! You denied education so they'd stay beneath you! If given equal resources, they'd replace you!"
Saburo's eyes chilled. "I built this empire. Maintaining my rule—is that a crime?"
"And I want to end this empire of suffering—is that a crime?"
"This empire raised you," Saburo said, stepping forward.
He stopped in front of the TV wall—the glass separating him from his two hidden spectators.
"I always knew," he said quietly, "one day your shamelessness would exceed my tolerance."
"Where do you think that shamelessness came from?" Yorinobu pointed at him. "From your genes!"
Saburo straightened.
No longer a father.
A god once more.
"I have always been lenient with you. But betrayal—cannot be forgiven."
"You're going to kill me?" Yorinobu asked.
"No."
The god spoke:
"I will imprison you. You will never see sunlight again. Your life will be spent in remorse. And when you die, you will understand—your life meant nothing. Not even your regrets."
Yorinobu trembled.
"Breathing rapid. Pupils constricting. Massive adrenaline spike. He's afraid!" Koch warned.
"Stop him!" V barked.
"I'm trying!" Koch mixed new drugs frantically. "But we're at the limit! Any higher and the health monitor will flag anomalies! The chemicals will leave traces! V—I need your call! Do we gamble?!"
V said nothing.
"V! Do we gamble?!"
"Wait!" V snapped.
"No time! Drugs can't control a man's heart—!"
"I SAID—WAIT!"
Silence fell across the comms.
Everyone held their breath.
V stared at Saburo.
At Yorinobu.
She knew Saburo wasn't done.
He would say it—the crucial phrase.
And once he said it…
Victory would be hers.
Father and son were silent.
Brigitte and Placide were silent.
The watchers were silent.
Some would die in silence.
Some would erupt in silence.
In this charged stillness—
The god spoke.
"I am grateful your mother won't see what comes next. Her heart would break from witnessing your death."
Fate split.
Left was heaven.
Right was hell.
The god—
chose wrong.
V—
chose right.
Yorinobu's rage detonated.
Blood pressure shot to 240.
He lunged, seized his father by the throat, and slammed him against the TV wall.
"Ghh… gghh…"
For the first time, the god made a human sound.
Saburo clawed weakly at his son's hand—seeking mercy from the love he long ago extinguished.
Yorinobu hesitated, just for a heartbeat.
"Now, Koch!" V commanded.
"Sildenafil—maximum dosage without triggering alarms! Max airflow! GO!" Koch shouted. "Yes—yes—LET IT OUT, CALF! UNLEASH EVERYTHING!"
In the hidden channel, dozens chanted:
"Shoot! Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!"
A flicker of savagery passed through Yorinobu's eyes.
His grip tightened.
Then—
Tightened more.
Saburo's face twisted in terror.
His eyes rolled back.
Saliva and blood dripped from his mouth.
He had imagined many possible deaths.
But never this one—
Killed by his own son.
He thought the calf would eventually release him.
He was wrong.
Yorinobu crushed his father's throat with the intensity of a top-tier sexbot—multiplied ten thousand.
He wasn't just killing.
He was indulging—savoring the violent ecstasy of it.
"Shoot! Shoot!"
The watchers roared.
Yorinobu forced him down—
"SHOOT, BOY—SHOOT HIM TO HELL!!!" Meredith Stout screamed.
CRACK.
The trachea snapped.
Another CRACK—cervical vertebrae fractured.
"AAAHHH!"
Yorinobu roared as he climaxed—
in fury
in liberation
in perverse transcendence.
Saburo Arasaka was dead.
The god was dead.
And if a god dies—
he was never a god.
Only Saburo Arasaka.
Yorinobu staggered back and collapsed onto the sofa, panting heavily.
Unseen in the shadows, hundreds applauded.
"Omedetou!"
Low-level employees, their lives spared only because Saburo had died.
"Omedetou!"
Meredith Stout and the others—because if Saburo could fall, so could any so-called "god."
"Omedetou!"
V clapped as well, celebrating Yorinobu's magnificent performance—another step toward her own recovery.
But Yorinobu knew none of this.
After a moment of panting, he regained composure.
The patricide approached his father's corpse with a face full of grief and declared:
"I want… the entire hotel locked down!"
"State reason," the room AI asked.
"My father—Saburo Arasaka—has been murdered!"
Lights dimmed.
Alarms blared.
"Red alert initiated. Konpeki Plaza is now under full lockdown."
Adam Smasher and the bodyguard rushed in to find Yorinobu collapsed over his father's body, sobbing in anguish.
Perfect.
Believable.
Disgustingly perfect.
"One to zero. Match over. We win," V said calmly over comms.
"Begin cleanup. Let the spectators exit in order."