"Adam Smasher... did he do something for Lady Michiko in the past?" Karl had noticed the seat Kenichiro had deliberately taken. Judging from
"Adam Smasher... did he do something for Lady Michiko in the past?"
Karl had noticed the seat Kenichiro had deliberately taken. Judging from the distance between Adam Smasher and Michiko Arasaka, he had a hunch he was witnessing something unusual.
Something about Smasher and Michiko's relationship seemed... close. Were they actually friends?
The idea felt bizarre. Adam Smasher, with his brutal and volatile nature, being friends with someone like Michiko Arasaka—a composed, high-ranking corporate leader? That didn't add up.
"They are friends," Hanako confirmed with a nod. "Uncle Smasher once saved my mother's life. They really got along. For a time, she even considered assigning him as her personal bodyguard. But that plan was stopped by Mr. Kenichisaburō, who was already serving as her bodyguard."
"Smasher... actually got along with someone?"
Well, maybe that's what being a true fashion icon meant—defying all expectations. Still, Karl personally couldn't imagine spending more than five minutes alone with Smasher without a fight breaking out.
But there was another name Hanako had mentioned that caught his attention.
"Kenichisaburō? A bodyguard? Wait... is he related to Kenichiro?"
"Father and son."
That simple answer cleared things up quickly.
So the Kenichiro family had been loyal to the Arasakas for generations. The father had once protected Michiko, and the son had protected Hanako. Now, the torch had passed again.
Karl glanced at Chiyome, standing silently nearby. Technically, she was Kenichiro's apprentice. In a way, that was a continuation of the legacy.
It made sense. Arasaka wasn't like other corporations—it was a family dynasty. Leaders and loyalists alike were passed down through bloodlines, generation after generation.
Karl found himself wondering what happened to these employees when they retired. But seeing Kenichiro's loyalty, and how many Arasaka staff seemed to be related to him, Karl figured the company treated its "own" people well—certainly better than the average recruit.
Even among "corpo dogs," there was a difference between house-trained dogs and strays.
Plenty of low-level employees probably dreamed of marrying into families like the Arasakas, the Kens, or the Takemuras—just to become part of the "inner circle."
As his thoughts drifted, Karl realized something: the network of connections he'd built might actually be the kind of dream that most corpo climbers spent their lives chasing.
He looked around. Everyone surrounding him was either a major figure in Arasaka, or a direct member of an important family. If Karl had been a career corpo, this would've been the ultimate fast track.
In another life, he might've been bowing and saying something like:
"Miss Hanako, it's an honor to meet you. Thank you for arranging this."
Luckily, he wasn't that guy.
Karl shook the thoughts from his head. Just as he was about to chat with Maki and Hanako about the recent changes in the NCPD's leadership, Hanako held out a cup of tea with both hands.
He accepted it and raised an eyebrow. "You brewed this?"
"Mhm."
"Alright then... your tea."
Not that Karl was complaining. It wasn't matcha—just regular tea. Could be decent. But he'd been drinking so much sweet tea lately that he was starting to expect everything to taste like bottled iced tea. As for traditional tea...
"You sure you didn't use too much leaf?"
The brew had a golden hue. One sip and Karl could tell—if Hanako weren't born into this kind of family, her tea-making skills wouldn't last a week in a high-end teahouse.
"Maybe?"
Hanako didn't sound too confident. She handed a cup to Maki, who hesitated, then took a sip herself.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Then, like nothing had happened, she casually placed the barely touched tea on the table beside her.
"It's... not that bad."
"You took one sip and put it down. If you'd finished it, maybe I'd believe you."
Karl drained the whole cup in one go. His mouth filled with bitter aftertaste. He honestly felt like pulling Hanako aside to teach her how to make proper tea.
You can't just fake it when guests show up. Even if you're only practicing—you should at least be improving.
Thud. Thud.
Just as Karl opened his mouth to speak, heavy footsteps echoed from the side entrance of the hall.
He turned toward the sound.
A figure stepped inside—the same cyber-ninja Karl had locked eyes with earlier at the gate.
The man entered without announcement.
Karl's instincts kicked in, alert... but then he noticed Chiyome's expression.
She had also seen the newcomer, but her face showed no surprise. No alarm. She remained calm, as if his presence was perfectly normal.
So this ninja wasn't just any guard. Either his role went beyond simple protection, or his rank placed him far above the average operative.
Karl relaxed.
Then he noticed how others reacted—especially Adam Smasher.
His eyes widened in surprise.
He stood up abruptly, facing the approaching man, voice rising with hostility.
"So you've been here this whole time?"
He squared up to the cyborg.
"I was just wondering why Michiko's bodyguard is some second-rate ninja," he sneered. "Didn't expect it to be you. I didn't even recognize you at first in that sorry state!"
His voice climbed louder, edged with mockery.
"Kenichisaburō! You used to laugh at me—said I was just a block of metal. How does it feel to be one yourself now, huh?!"
Kenichisaburō.
Karl's eyes widened slightly as he looked at the cyber-ninja walking toward them.
That was Kenichiro's father, the former personal bodyguard of Michiko Arasaka?
And he was still guarding her... even now?
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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