"Ding."
The elevator had reached the 100th floor.
As the doors slowly slid open, Karl took a deep breath, then exhaled before stepping into the spacious Tavernier Suite.
"Right on ti. Not a minute late."
Dressed in his usual black suit, Ken'ichiro stood at the entrance, nodding slightly toward Karl.
"You did not break your appointnt."
Arriving precisely on ti, breaking the appointnt would've been more difficult. This skill—perfectly timing one's arrival—was sothing Karl had mastered back when he was still in school.
"Ken'ichiro-san."
Karl nodded in response, offering a simple greeting. However, he quickly noticed sothing different about Ken'ichiro today.
On the left lapel of his black suit, where there had previously been nothing, now rested a silver chrysanthemum-shaped pin—embossed with the Arasaka insignia.
Karl had heard about this before: within Arasaka, those of sufficient status wore silver pins with the company's emblem on their left lapel. Even more prestigious were the chrysanthemum-design pins, reserved for high-ranking executives who had served in Arasaka's military divisions.
Seeing this pin, Karl imdiately understood Ken'ichiro's role today.
He was not Karl's superior from the detective agency anymore.
He was a loyal retainer of the Arasaka family.
And that could only an one thing—Arasaka Hanako was here.
"The lady is expecting you."
Ken'ichiro spoke briefly before stepping aside, signaling for Karl to proceed on his own.
Without hesitation, Karl walked forward, passing Ken'ichiro, and took in the full view of the penthouse suite.
To the right was the bathing area. On the left, a glass-paneled outdoor staircase led to the helipad on the rooftop. Through the transparent bulletproof windows, Karl could see the dazzling lights of Night City below.
Near the staircase, in the center of the suite, a small tea table was set up, positioned in front of a large indoor screen.
Seated by this table, clad in the sa cherry blossom-colored kimono as the last ti they t, was Arasaka Hanako.
She was preparing tea.
Karl took a few steps closer and saw that she was whisking matcha with a bamboo chasen.
Despite noticing Karl's presence, Hanako only slightly tilted her head in acknowledgnt, showing no urgency to start a conversation.
Since she wasn't speaking, Karl saw no reason to rush either.
Looking around, he didn't see any particularly inviting seats, so he simply walked over and settled himself on a raised floor cushion to her right.
Glancing at Hanako, Karl noted that she looked exactly the sa as the last ti they t—the sa frail figure, the sa silky waist-length hair, the sa serene yet noble features befitting a princess of the Warring States era.
There was no visible change at all.
Yet, even eting her a second ti, Karl had to admit—
He still liked her eyes.
Those deep, starry eyes, dark as the night sky, seed to reflect constellations—a sight unseen in Night City's light-polluted skyline.
Ti passed in absolute silence.
The only sound in the vast penthouse was the soft, rhythmic swish of the chasen whisking the tea.
After about ten seconds, Hanako's hands finally stilled.
With precise, delicate movents, she placed the bamboo chasen upside down onto its designated stand, then lifted a ceramic tea bowl filled with frothy, bright green matcha, gently placing it before Karl.
"Please enjoy."
She smiled at him, an expression as calm as a tea master presenting their finest brew.
Karl stared at the vivid green foam.
Several thoughts flashed through his mind.
This ancient tradition, dating back to the Tang Dynasty, flourishing in the Song Dynasty, and later evolving into elaborate tea ceremonies, was sothing he wasn't unfamiliar with.
However—
Stead young tea leaves, ground into fine powder, ticulously whisked with pure spring water using a bamboo whisk—
Even in 2075, this level of authenticity felt almost excessive.
Seeing Karl hesitate, Hanako gently explained, mistaking his pause for curiosity about the brand.
"This is matcha from Kyoto's Ippodo Tea Co. The shop has been in business for over four hundred years. In my opinion, it offers the finest taste."
"Oh, no, I wasn't wondering about the brand."
Karl thought to himself—
"Matcha is way too bitter. Can I add so milk?"
Adding milk was also an acceptable way to drink it—though it often drew criticism from purists.
For etiquette, he had to hold it with both hands...
Taking the small porcelain cup in both hands, Karl didn't bother savoring the taste. Instead, he gulped it down in one go.
Imdiately, a wave of bitterness spread from his tongue, trailing all the way down to his stomach.
"As expected... way too bitter. She definitely used too much matcha powder."
As the bitterness slowly faded, a fresh tea aroma lingered in his mouth. Taking a mont to reflect on the taste...
Still bitter.
Setting down the now-empty teacup, Karl looked at Hanako.
"I've finished the tea. Can I start my report now?"
"No need."
Hanako shook her head.
"I'm not interested in such trivial matters."
Thirty-two thousand eurodollars, an assassination target...
And all of that was considered trivial?
Well, whatever.
"If you don't plan to listen, then I guess my formalities are complete?"
Karl started to get up.
"Can I leave now?"
"No."
Hanako fixed her gaze on him, those deep, starry eyes locking onto him with intent.
"I don't care about the small matters. But there is sothing important I want to ask you."
"Sothing important?"
Hearing her words, Karl—who had just started to stand—sat back down.
"Is it about my salary? How much of a bonus are we talking? I did a pretty good job on my last gig, right?"
"..."
Hanako stared at him for a mont, then let out a quiet sigh.
"That, too, is a minor issue. If it's about pay, you'll have to discuss it with Ken'ichiro-san."
"Then what's so important? Let's hear it."
Karl suddenly noticed a scrutinizing gaze from the direction of the elevator. Instinctively, he straightened his posture.
The boss was watching. He had to present himself well in front of the boss's boss.
"I have a proposal."
Hanako placed both hands neatly on her lap.
"A proposal that I believe you may find acceptable."
"A proposal?"
The scrutinizing gaze felt even sharper now.
"What kind of proposal?"
Hanako's eyes remained locked onto Karl's as she calmly stated:
"I want you to accept…"
"The position as my personal bodyguard."
.
.
.
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