Adam Smasher might have been a dog of Arasaka Security on paper, but in truth, his leash was loose — and everyone in Night City knew it.
He was a legend, not because someone made him one, but because he had buried every other legend who ever tried to take his place. For over half a century, Adam Smasher had crushed, burned, and obliterated every rising star that dared to shine in Night City's skyline.
Only Johnny Silverhand's name still lingered on the city's lips, whispered like a ghost that refused to fade. But the others — the mercs, the fixers, the street legends who thought they could rise — he had forgotten them all.
Maybe because all he did, all he ever did, was kill. Maybe because his mind, half-machine and half-memory, had long since stopped caring about who was on the other end of the gun.
One simple truth defined him:
Adam Smasher only fought on the top rung.
Only against those worth breaking.
...
For that, Arasaka paid him like royalty.
Wealth was meaningless to him — but still, he owned a small empire of property across Night City, bought and forgotten. Cars, weapons, apartments, private armories... all stacked in his name.
And when your body was ninety percent metal, pleasure lost all its meaning anyway.
Every new cybernetic upgrade released by Arasaka came to him first. Weapon modules, neural augments, ICE-shielding nodes — all top-tier, all free.
He wasn't just Arasaka's dog. He was their steel shadow, their message to Night City. "The strongest cyberpsycho works for us. You sure you still want to rebel?"
Let them come, he thought. Let the would-be legends crawl out of the dirt. He'd send them back there soon enough.
When his subordinate finished briefing him, Adam's cold, synthetic eyes flared red. He switched out an arm module with a heavy click, the whine of servos filling the silence.
"Konpeki Plaza," he growled, his voice a low, grinding rumble of metal.
"Understood."
...
In the lavish quiet of the Tavernier Suite, Neo opened his eyes.
Alright, so maybe he'd said he was going to rest — but sleep? No. He couldn't.
Not because of fear, or tension, or nerves. But because of anticipation.
Tonight wasn't about the Relic chip sitting in Saburo Arasaka's bedside drawer. That was important but what mattered more… was Yorinobu Arasaka himself.
The man was the key.
Neo's thoughts spiraled.
If the timeline hadn't shifted too much, Yorinobu should still be the same man he remembered — the rebel prince, the romantic idealist who wanted to burn Arasaka to the ground and rebuild a freer world.
In Cyberpunk 2077, Yorinobu was that rare anomaly in the corporate wasteland — an Arasaka with a conscience.
A man who could feel guilt.
A man who saw the rot from within and dared to resist it.
If he was still that man, then Neo would gladly take his side. Together, they could do more than topple Arasaka — they could reshape Night City.
But if Neo's arrival had already twisted fate's flow…
If Yorinobu had already turned corrupted, molded into a younger, ruthless version of his father Saburo…
Then Neo knew what he had to do.
He'd burn father and son both, and light the ashes of Night City with their flames.
He just hoped Yorinobu wouldn't make that mistake.
...
Neo's train of thought was interrupted by a sound that could've belonged to a dying engine. Jackie Welles was snoring. Loudly.
Neo got up, quietly surveying the room. Rebecca was still asleep beside him, her head buried in the blanket. Across the room, Jackie and David were passed out together — one snoring like a bulldozer, the other silent as a ghost.
Neo sighed. "David, wake up."
"Jackie, get your ass up too."
He patted their faces gently, well, as gently as Neo ever did anything — until both men stirred awake.
"Time's up," he said calmly. "Wash your faces. We've got work to do."
Rebecca blinked awake from the noise, stretching with a groggy yawn.
"Morning already?" she mumbled.
"Freshen up," Neo told her, his tone softer than before.
Jackie and David exchanged looks of mock outrage.
"Bro, how come she gets the sweet tone and we get the drill sergeant?" Jackie muttered.
David just sighed, rubbing his eyes.
Neo ignored them both and turned to the metal case sitting near the wall. Inside, Little Flathead blinked to life as he lifted it gently.
He activated the comms. "Maine. Get ready. Time to move."
Then, switching channels —
"Kiwi, it's me. Tavernier Suite, room 9527. Shut down all surveillance and smart sensors inside the room."
"Thirty seconds…" Kiwi's voice came through the comm, calm as ever. "Alright, done. You're clean. Cameras and sensory nets are blind."
"Good."
Neo crouched by the ventilation shaft, placing Little Flathead at the opening. The bot's limbs twitched, optics glowing as it synced with the local network.
"Kiwi, Flathead's live. Following the planned route. Start your end."
"Copy."
The spiderbot crawled into the duct, its body vanishing into the shadows above.
Neo packed up quickly; Rebecca, Jackie, and David followed suit.
One minute later —
"All signals on your floor are neutralized," Kiwi reported. "You're invisible. Go."
"Move."
Neo led the way out, silent and sharp. Rebecca, Jackie, and David flanked him.
Across the hall, the door to room 9528 slid open. Maine, Dorio, and Pilar stepped out, already geared up.
Neo met Maine's eyes. "Stick to the plan. If things go sideways, don't play the hero. Fall back toward me — I'll handle it."
"Got it," Maine replied, nodding.
With that, the two teams split — left and right, both heading for the elevator shafts.
...
The halls of Konpeki Plaza were eerily quiet. Every service drone was frozen mid-task, motionless. The camera lenses along the corridor glowed faint red, dead but watching.
Neo's team reached the penthouse elevator without a hitch. Not a single digital eye saw them.
When the elevator doors opened, the scent of sterilized air and imported luxury filled their lungs.
Inside Yorinobu Arasaka's private suite, the silence felt heavier.
Jackie immediately began scavenging. The man couldn't help himself.
He looked up at the wall — where three swords were mounted on display, gleaming beneath soft golden light.
"Yo, Neo," Jackie whispered, tapping his shoulder. "Check this out."
He pointed at the topmost blade.
"That one… looks different from the rest, don't it?"
Neo turned his head — and the moment his eyes met the blade's curved, ancient silhouette, his pulse stopped for half a beat.
A name whispered in his mind, cutting through the noise of Night City's steel and neon:
Wado Ichimonji.