Adam Smasher—currently the Head of Security at Arasaka's Night City branch—was not an unexpected presence for Karl.
That news had been circulating around Night City for a while now. Only the out-of-the-loop wouldn't know.
Smasher had already signed a security contract with Arasaka in the past. This was rely his official onboarding. Nothing surprising about it.
The real question was: when things went down today, whose side would Adam Smasher be on?
If he turned out to be the enemy...
Then Karl, Chiyo, and Kenichiro might still stand a chance—however slim—against him.
A face-off with a legend.
Karl's hand brushed the grip of Night's End at his waist. Safety off. Ready to fire.
He flexed his wrist—monomolecular wire: operational, zero delay.
All systems go.
Following Kenichiro, Karl ascended the inner stairwell to the 133rd-floor conference room, moving silently and without a word.
The floor that greeted him was expansive, ringed by Arasaka security along the periter. Through the transparent glass walls on all four sides, the glittering panorama of Night City stretched out like a living map.
Seated around a sleek white table were nine Arasaka executives, each dressed in different tailored suits, all bearing the company emblem pinned to their chest.
Karl scanned the guards posted closest to the table. Besides the bodyguards assigned to the executives, four netrunners stood nearest the center, absorbed in their datapads, running real-ti anti-hacking defenses.
"Watch the two in white suits. They're the most important people at this table."
Kenichiro ssaged him mid-step as they approached.
"They're vice presidents of the Night City branch. With Lady Michiko absent, they have full authority over Arasaka operations in the city—including the power to deploy force."
Deploy force... Karl understood exactly what that ant.
He responded through the channel.
Karl: "And the other seven?"
Kenichiro: "They're directors of various departnts. They hold a seat, but not the power. They don't have the clearance to mobilize Arasaka resources."
Karl: "Understood."
Karl's eyes swept across the seven, locking briefly on an older man who looked strikingly similar to Fujioka Kaoru from earlier.
Most likely his father.
A dove, Karl thought, and ntally filed the label away.
He and Kenichiro reached the table. As Karl briefly exchanged glances with the bodyguards behind the executives, Kenichiro took a seat—second only to the vice president in white on the left-hand side.
"You really kept us waiting, Kenichi-kun," said the VP seated beside him.
Without sparing Karl a glance, he addressed Kenichiro directly.
"You're the last to arrive."
"So matters needed my personal attention."
Kenichiro's smile, caught by Karl in his peripheral vision, seed just polite enough to cast doubt on its sincerity.
"Matsudaira-san, it's been a while."
"Indeed," Matsudaira replied. "After all, your priority is safeguarding Miss Haruko."
He gave a final glance before turning away, ending the exchange.
On the opposite side, the other white-suited VP joined in.
"Kenichi-kun, I hope the personnel we assigned to you have t your expectations. If there were any issues, feel free to raise them."
"They've all perford admirably," Kenichiro replied with the sa faint smile. "Your grandson included."
"That's a relief."
The VP visibly relaxed. Then his gaze shifted slightly, as if reminded of sothing.
"By the way, Kenichi-kun, since it's been a while since you last joined us, you may not recognize everyone here. Let introduce our newly promoted director, whose recent contributions in Osaka were outstanding."
The elderly VP, his face a roadmap of age, gestured to the end of the table on his right.
A woman in a black Arasaka uniform, hair tied in a single ponytail, stood and bowed respectfully.
"Susan Abernathy, currently Director of Special Operations for Night City."
"Pleasure to et you, Kenichi-san," she said.
"Mm."
Kenichiro offered a flat response. Abernathy didn't seem fazed. She completed her bow properly before sitting back down with composed grace.
In Arasaka, subordinates were expected to bow to their superiors. Getting even a glance and an acknowledgnt like that from Kenichiro was rare enough.
Abernathy cast a quick glance at the VP beside her, then focused entirely on her eting display, her expression reserved—though her eyes held a glint of quiet satisfaction.
As the least senior person at the table, being formally introduced by her superior—and to a heavyweight like Kenichiro—was a ssage in itself: she had backing. That ant far more than just a seat at the table.
Once Abernathy sat down, the room lapsed into silence again.
The seven lesser directors dared not speak, and the three senior mbers had finished exchanging pleasantries.
A heavy, stifling atmosphere began to settle.
And then—
Clack. Clack.
The unmistakable sound of wooden clogs echoed from the stairwell.
Light, even, and composed steps.
A figure in a kimono entered the conference floor, flanked by a female bodyguard in full shinobi attire.
Eight of the nine executives—everyone but Kenichiro—visibly tensed. Matsudaira practically pushed himself up from the table in disbelief.
"What?! Why is she here?!"
Their faces all carried the sa stunned expression:
"Wasn't Lady Michiko supposed to be the one presiding over today's eting?!"
.
.
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