"Maki…" Hearing that all-too-familiar name, Goro Takemura's expression shifted slightly. He hadn't expected to hear it from the mouth of a v
"Maki…"
Hearing that all-too-familiar name, Goro Takemura's expression shifted slightly.
He hadn't expected to hear it from the mouth of a vaguely familiar young man. So he studied him more carefully.
And then he recognized him.
Mercenary KK.
Although his battle with Adam Smasher wasn't common knowledge, within certain circles it was legendary.
Takemura had reviewed the combat footage—not to study KK's face, but his techniques and strategy. Now, seeing him more clearly, he remembered.
KK. Real name: Karl.
Son of a former Kang Tao executive assistant.
Arrived in Night City in 2075.
Quickly transitioned into merc work.
Formed his own team.
Rapidly rose to become one of the city's most sought-after crews.
Lines of data flashed across Takemura's cybernetic eye, pulled from Arasaka's intel database:
— Detailed profile
— Psychological assessments
— Confirmed assignments
Final evaluation:
"An exceptional mercenary worth cultivating."
Exceptional.
Takemura finished scanning in under two seconds. Then he spoke.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"You mean Maki?" Karl replied casually.
"She's a friend of mine."
Friend?
Takemura rolled the unfamiliar word around in his head. Then responded:
"There is… some relation. But this is not the place to discuss it."
His eyes briefly swept over the others in the room—clearly aware they were listening.
He said nothing more.
So he really is related to Maki.
Karl remembered Maki once mentioning that a relative in Arasaka had elevated her entire family.
Now it was clear—that relative had to be Goro Takemura.
Being Saburo Arasaka's personal guard meant influence on a staggering level.
Karl saw Takemura didn't want to elaborate, so he let it go and stepped back to his original position.
He'd just been curious.
He wasn't some door-to-door salesman trying to pry into people's family trees.
Still…
He stared at Takemura's face.
The longer he looked, the more familiar it seemed.
Where had he seen it before?
Then he glanced at Haruko—and it clicked.
Back when she moved into the North Oak estate, he'd visited.
She'd been watching an old comedy show rerun.
She said the comedian reminded her of someone she respected.
That comedian's name was Hidetomo Hino.
And his face…
Not identical—but uncannily similar to Takemura's.
If Takemura were less stern, less modified, they could be twins.
Should I shout Hino's catchphrase—"Buckle up!"—just to see if he reacts?
Karl smirked at the idea but thought better of it.
Takemura clearly wasn't in a talking mood.
No rush. There'll be other chances.
More importantly, today was a job.
Soon, this lounge would be filled with high-ranking Arasaka personnel.
Karl's protection gig was about to begin.
Time to earn his pay.
As silence settled again, Haruko subtly moved her fingers under her kimono sleeve.
Karl's phone buzzed.
He synced in, no need to check the screen.
Haruko Arasaka:
If Mother shows up, this room will be fully loaded.
One nuke and Militech might throw a party.
Then again... maybe not.
Mother might be more useful to them than anyone here.
Karl:
You need to stop thinking about nukes all the time.
That mindset's insane.
If one actually went off, we'd all be toast.
That's not how I plan to die. Way too lame.
Haruko:
Still… I heard the Kujira has independent nuclear launch systems.
Some areas inside are said to store actual warheads.
Karl:
So what you're saying is… we're standing right next to a nuclear bomb?
And it's docked next to Night City?!
No wonder Militech backed off during the Unification War.
One wrong move and—boom.
Haruko:
I thought you'd be more concerned about living in a permanent blast radius.
Karl:
Eh. It was already like that before I got to Night City.
While Haruko kept sneaking glances at her phone and tucking it back into her sleeve, their quiet chat passed the time.
Then came the knock.
The final guest had arrived.
But she wasn't alone.
The first one through the door—was a walking war machine.
Massive.
Imposing.
He had to crouch to pass through the widened entrance.
His very presence distorted the room.
A space built to hold dozens suddenly felt cramped.
Adam Smasher.
His name needed no introduction.
But the one behind him—
She was the reason they were all here.
Arasaka Michiko had arrived.
--
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