"A Rayfield Caliburn—damn. That's not something your average person gets to drive."
Maine had unknowingly removed his sunglasses, eyes fixed on the aircar as it docked on the rooftop. He clicked his tongue in awe.
A car like that? Let's be real—he could sell himself a hundred times over and still never afford one.
"Who the hell is showing up now?"
Jade, a low-level transport worker, had already seen more high-profile figures tonight than he'd ever expected. At this point, he felt numb. Who else could walk through that door that would surprise him?
Maybe it was that guy from last time—Karl's supposed boss. What was his name again? Kenichiro?
Jade still remembered him vividly.
He glanced over at Johnson.
Back then, the four of them had cracked a case together. Three of those four were here now. If the fourth turned out to be Kenichiro, it wouldn't be all that shocking.
But while Jade was still guessing, Blanca had already begun to frown.
A strange and unsettling feeling gripped her—a visceral warning from her instincts.
Her pulse quickened. Not with excitement, but with dread. It was as if her body was telling her to brace for something.
"Haruko's finally here. Took her long enough," Maki muttered softly, barely audible to anyone else.
At that moment, the low hum of the aircar's docking completed. Then, under the faint lights of the evening, two figures descended the external glass stairs connecting the rooftop to the upper level of the duplex.
They walked one behind the other. The person in back was practically invisible—overshadowed entirely by the one in front, whose presence alone commanded the room.
She didn't even have to speak.
Every eye immediately turned to her.
Maine and Brown's jaws dropped. That face—they knew it well. They hadn't expected to ever see her again, but there was no mistaking her.
It had been over a year ago, at the hospital. Karl had been receiving treatment at the time. They had only seen her briefly, when she authorized his compensation. But even without that brief meeting, they'd still have recognized her.
That face was known across Night City—broadcast on screens, captured in holos. You couldn't forget it.
"Is that...?"
Blanca was the most shocked of all.
She'd heard vague accounts that Karl had interacted with this woman before—but never, not once, had she imagined she'd show up here. In his home. For a holiday gathering.
This wasn't someone who could be mistaken for a nobody after removing a corporate uniform. This was someone whose very existence was an extension of her legacy.
Her name alone stood as a symbol.
Arasaka.
Blanca muttered it aloud.
"Hanako."
Hanako Arasaka—the final guest—had arrived, accompanied by her bodyguard, Chidō.
"Now that's a guest," Kerry murmured, glancing at Karl.
He was baffled.
It wasn't about ego. It wasn't that he was no longer the most famous person in the room.
No, it was the fact that Karl—who he assumed was just a merc—had managed to forge a connection with someone from the Arasaka family. A real connection. The kind that led to holiday invitations.
It made no sense.
As someone who'd seen the old days, Kerry's mind jumped to urban legends.
There had been rumors—wild ones—about Adam Smasher and Michiko Arasaka, back in the day. Nobody had taken them seriously. Urban myths. Street talk.
But now? Right in front of him?
A merc, and an Arasaka heiress, walking into the same room like old friends.
"Johnny... if you were alive to see this, your eyes would be the size of fists."
While the room simmered with shock and disbelief, Hanako descended the steps with unhurried grace. Once the rooftop access door disengaged and slid open, she stepped inside.
Her eyes passed calmly over the room—first to Karl, then to Maki, then over the rest of the guests.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Hanako Arasaka."
Her greeting was formal, composed, polite. Yet Blanca, feeling the weight of that gaze as it passed over her, instinctively clenched her fists.
It had only lingered on her for a second, but she was certain—it wasn't her imagination.
Hanako recognized her.
Of course she did.
Hanako Arasaka knew exactly who Blanca was.
In fact, she knew everyone here. Every friend of Karl's, every regular guest, every casual face in the room—she knew them all.
She could list their names, backgrounds, affiliations—effortlessly.
And Blanca, a Militech executive, had earned special attention.
Though—just a little.
It wasn't arrogance. Hanako didn't look down on her. She simply had no need to. Karl's friends, she treated with warmth and grace.
But if Blanca thought she could play corporate politics with Hanako...
She was sorely mistaken.
In the Arasaka hierarchy, Blanca was nothing. If Hanako had an issue with her, she could erase her with a single word. Even within Militech, Blanca wasn't untouchable.
As Hanako finished her courteous greeting, the room froze.
How do you even respond to that?
Pretend she's just another guest and say hi? That didn't feel right.
Act formal and treat her like a VIP? That felt worse.
Luckily, Maki stepped in and broke the awkward tension.
"Haruko, you're just in time for cake."
Her voice was casual, light.
Only then did the guests notice Karl and Maki had already started slicing the enormous Christmas cake at the center of the dining table. From the kitchen, several makeshift "chefs" emerged with trays of food.
"You must be Hanako," Mama Wells said warmly. "Karl's mentioned you before. Go ahead and find a seat. If you don't mind, you can sit next to me."
She held out a plate of Karl's favorite—her homemade fries.
"Hope you like my cooking."
"I've heard about you too, Mrs. Wells," Hanako replied, giving a small, respectful nod. "Karl said your fries were excellent."
After motioning for Chidō to find a seat as well, Hanako sat down next to Mama Wells—who, as it happened, was also seated beside Blanca.
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