Chiyome's timely appearance acted as a silent barrier that dissipated the tension between Karl and Adam Smasher—or perhaps it was Smasher hi
Chiyome's timely appearance acted as a silent barrier that dissipated the tension between Karl and Adam Smasher—or perhaps it was Smasher himself who chose to ease up.
His gaze, once sharp as a blade, softened and shifted away. That alone filled Karl with suspicion. Because the moment Michiko's name was mentioned, Smasher's violent aura seemed to vanish—like a storm dissipated by a sudden, gentle breeze.
Weird. Too weird.
Karl couldn't help but remember the oddly calm tone Smasher had used once when talking about Hanako. Now, that same unsettling feeling came back—stronger than ever.
What the hell is going on with Adam Smasher? He didn't even say anything threatening—just backed off. Did changing his body also change his personality? Is this the "gentle edition" of Adam Smasher?
Still puzzled, Karl followed Chiyome through the doors of the estate, walking alongside Maki.
The interior hadn't changed much since his last visit. But unlike last time—when he'd met Hanako in the tea room—this time, Michiko Arasaka herself was waiting for them in the grand hall.
A more fitting venue for guests, really. The hall had always served as the formal reception space.
Michiko sat on the central sofa, casually receiving a teacup from her daughter Hanako. When she heard movement at the entrance, she accepted the cup gracefully and set it down on the table without so much as glancing their way. Then, calm and composed, she rose to greet them.
Her eyes passed over Kenichiro first, then lingered briefly on Adam Smasher. A flicker of something—nostalgia, maybe—crossed her face. But it vanished quickly. Her expression turned neutral again as she shifted her gaze to Karl and Maki.
"Maki. It's been a while."
"I should've checked in sooner, Aunt Michiko."
Michiko greeted the familiar Takemura Maki first, then turned to Karl.
She didn't speak immediately. Karl stood in silence, unsure what to expect from the woman who effectively ran Arasaka's Night City operations. He waited.
His first impression?
Michiko Arasaka was... impactful.
Maki had warned him—and she was right. Every time you saw Michiko, she seemed like a completely different person. The last time Karl had seen her on TV, she had jet-black hair. Now?
She wore a bright blue shamate-style haircut, and massive circular rings dangled from each ear. The look was striking—loud, unapologetic.
This was what it meant to be fashion-forward in Night City. Karl didn't quite understand it, but he couldn't deny the impression she made.
While Karl tried to process the visual overload, Michiko was silently studying him.
She'd had a file on this young man ever since he'd taken on his first escort job. But even she hadn't predicted how entangled he would become with her daughter—a nobody, recently legitimized with an identity arranged quietly by Hanako herself.
Was this just friendship forged through crisis? Or...
Michiko's eyes drifted briefly toward Adam Smasher.
This really is my daughter, she thought. More like me than I expected.
Still, Michiko had no intention of meddling. She was a modern parent—or perhaps a product of her American-leaning education. Her daughter had proven capable of independence. That was enough. No need to interfere.
After two seconds of observation, Michiko smiled at Karl.
"You must be Karl. Hanako talks about you often. I'm glad you could come today."
She spoke like any mother casually greeting her child's friends—pleasant, approachable, relaxed.
And for some reason, that simple warmth eased Karl's nerves far more than he expected. The tension he'd felt—greater than even his standoff with Smasher—began to melt away.
"Thank you for having me, Aunt Michiko."
Karl hesitated briefly, then decided to mimic Maki's tone of respectful familiarity.
From that point on, the atmosphere shifted into something lighter. This wasn't a corporate meeting. It wasn't a formal reception at Arasaka Tower. Just as Hanako had told them, this was a casual get-together—an informal invitation to her home to meet her mother.
Michiko didn't speak much to Karl or Maki. Her attention was clearly on Adam Smasher. She even invited him to sit beside her for a private chat. Hanako sat with Maki on the opposite side. Karl had initially planned to join them and sit nearby.
But Kenichiro's pointed gaze said otherwise.
Karl sighed inwardly and took a seat on the sofa across from them.
The message was clear: mind your manners. Keep things proper.
Once Karl had taken his seat, Kenichiro gave a small nod of approval.
Then he turned—and saw Michiko chatting with Adam Smasher.
His brow furrowed.
He remembered something his father had once said.
Adam Smasher. Definitely someone who needs to be watched.
There had been a time when Michiko had taken her husband's surname. After his death, she reverted to Arasaka. But now Smasher was cozying up to her?
What was he planning?
Kenichiro looked from Karl to Smasher… and made a decision.
He sat next to Smasher.
Karl might be a pain—but compared to Adam Smasher? Kenichiro disliked him far less.
No matter what, Karl at least showed some basic courtesy. Every time he addressed Kenichiro, he respectfully used "-san." Smasher? He didn't even pretend.
Kenichiro had hated that from the start.
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