Still mulling over his recently devised Bathroom Theory, Karl snapped back to reality just as the car ca to a smooth halt in front of the manor's main house.
Closer to the building, there were no heavily ard Arasaka guards in sight. Made sense—if soone had already gotten past the main gate, the lawns, the patrols, and the automated turrets, an extra gun at the door wouldn't make a difference. So here, at the entrance, there was only one man.
Ken'ichirou.
Face sagging, visibly irritated, posture practically screaming, "I'd rather be anywhere else."
"Yo, Mr. Ken'ichirou!"
In contrast to his superior's sour expression, Karl was all grins, waving cheerfully the mont he stepped out of the car.
This was the guy behind his recent salary bump—he deserved a proper hello.
"You actually showed up, huh."
That's what he said, but the way it hit Karl's ears felt more like: "You really had the nerve to show up?"
Still, it was a small flicker of tension—nothing to fuss over.
"I'm here like we agreed. Miss Hanako said I was supposed to review the security setup. Should I get started?"
Karl knew how this worked—first the job, then the reward. No exceptions.
But Ken'ichirou just shook his head.
"You'll talk to Miss Hanako directly about that."
"Huh? But aren't you the pro here, Mr. Ken'ichirou? Shouldn't I be talking to you?"
Karl was genuinely confused.
This was supposed to be professional. Let the expert handle it. Why would he discuss security layouts with the client herself? Did Hanako suddenly beco a tech expert?
Last ti, she wasn't exactly impressive—the operation had been a ss.
Still puzzled, Karl let it go. Ken'ichirou clearly wasn't offering any explanation. He simply opened the door and gestured for Karl to head inside.
"Miss Hanako is in the tea room. Second door on the left, upstairs. Go through the main hall and turn left."
And just like that, Ken'ichirou returned to his post—motionless, detached.
Weird…
As Karl passed him, he couldn't shake the feeling.
Wasn't Ken'ichirou supposed to be Hanako's personal bodyguard? Why was he standing outside like a doorman?
"The negligent one has been relieved of duty."
The voice ca from Chiyo, who stepped past him and took the lead inside. She must've seen the question written all over Karl's face.
"I'm the one assigned to protect Miss Hanako now."
She said it with unmistakable pride. And Karl?
He was stunned.
Wait—Ken'ichirou really got replaced?
By her?
I'm not hallucinating, right?
She actually pulled it off?
But… why?
Karl had seen them fight. Firsthand. Ken'ichirou wiped the floor with her—not just outclassed her, but read her like a manual. The fight had looked less like a duel and more like a training demo.
Sure, maybe Ken'ichirou had an unfair advantage—he knew Chiyo's every move, every habit. But even if you removed that, there was no way she was stronger. No way she was better suited to guard Hanako.
Yet here she was. Promoted. Official.
It didn't add up.
Hanako wasn't dumb. If anyone could feel the difference in strength between the two, it'd be her. Yet she chose Chiyo?
Unless…
As they ascended the stairs, Karl discreetly sent a ssage to Ken'ichirou:
You starting your real job now?
The reply ca cold, clipped.
Not sothing you need to know.
But Karl caught the ssage loud and clear.
That was a yes.
So that was it.
Ken'ichirou hadn't been dismissed—he'd been reassigned. Hanako needed him elsewhere. For sothing bigger.
Beyond his bodyguard duties, Ken'ichirou had other roles—head of personal security personnel, maybe even a senior Arasaka officer, judging by that corporate pin. Those responsibilities demanded mobility, autonomy.
Being tied to Hanako's side 24/7 made him slower. Less useful.
Hanako didn't want just a shield—she wanted reach. Influence. Power.
She traded a bit of personal safety for strategic expansion.
It was textbook Arasaka: total efficiency.
Looking ahead at Chiyo, walking with puffed-up pride, Karl sighed internally.
She clearly thought she'd "won."
That she'd replaced her "incompetent" ntor.
But in the bigger picture?
This wasn't a victory.
Ken'ichirou was too valuable elsewhere.
And Chiyo? She had nowhere else to go.
If she had other skills—anything beyond combat—she'd be doing sothing more important. But she didn't.
Her only value was as a sword. A loyal, deadly sword—but nothing more.
Chiyo: fierce, devoted, and good for exactly one thing.
On the bright side, at least she was good at that one thing.
Maybe not Ken'ichirou-level, but in Night City, she was still elite. Barring so freak situation, she could protect Hanako just fine.
Funny thing—Karl had told Ken'ichirou not long ago, Don't forget your duty to protect Hanako.
And Ken'ichirou had listened… just not in the way Karl expected. He'd found a better way to help her.
And now here was Chiyo, who probably tattooed the word "duty" on her soul.
Telling her to protect Hanako felt unnecessary.
Because in Chiyo's mind, that was her world.
Pure loyalty. No distractions.
Still ntally grumbling, Karl followed her to the tea room. Chiyo knocked softly, and Hanako's voice answered from within.
The door slid open.
This wasn't so traditional Japanese house—no shōji paper screens or wood-and-paper panels. Just a smooth, modern sliding door.
And inside—
Sa as always.
Hanako sat, waiting. Perfectly composed. Serene. Still.
Does she own, like, fifteen copies of that sa outfit?
That was Karl's first thought as he stepped inside.
.
.
.
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