Roland stood at the window with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the city below. An old farmer's smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
It wouldn't be long before he had full control over Agas City. When that time came, this place would serve as his logistics base. He had to admit—the Free State offered him far more maneuvering room than he expected.
The mayor's authority here had surprised him, and with his current grip on the city council, the entire city was essentially already under his control. Once Hammos Industries was dealt with, everything would fall neatly into place.
After wrapping things up here, he could return to Night City—there were still matters waiting for him there. After that, it would all come down to waiting for the Unification War to begin.
Given his current pace of development, he'd be more than ready to insert himself into the conflict when the time came.
"Prepare a vehicle. I'm heading to Hammos Industries to have a talk with Pico."
Roland gave the order to an employee behind him—a spy from Arasaka's.
He had intentionally placed this man by his side so Arasaka's could observe his actions. Partly to draw their attention, partly to make them believe he had no interest in Night City and was instead moving against Agas City first.
It was possible this would stir Arasaka's suspicion, but Roland understood them well. In their eyes, once their carrier arrived, everything would be decided. They probably wouldn't care.
Earlier, he'd kept Arasaka's agents in the dark to avoid complications. But now that things were nearly settled, he didn't mind anymore.
Roland sat comfortably in the vehicle, earphones playing music, a drink in hand. One Imperial Guard robot sat beside him, another in the passenger seat.
Suddenly, the robot beside him sprang up, shielding Roland with its body. A burst of violent fire engulfed the vehicle.
BOOM!
Heavy firepower—directly used against him.
"Cough—What the hell was that?!"
Roland crawled out of the smoking wreckage, covered in soot and looking thoroughly annoyed. The two Imperial Guard robots stood beside him, shields raised.
Pedestrians on the street quickly backed away, terrified of being caught in the crossfire.
Roland glanced at where the driver had been—now gone without a trace. His lips twitched. That guy had been a diligent, hardworking spy!
Now that he was dead, where was Roland supposed to find such a useful employee?
A crack of electricity pierced the air. A bullet glowing with blue light streaked in, pierced straight through an Imperial Guard Robot's shield, and embedded itself into the alloy plating of its chest.
Harder than its own shield.
Built to protect its employer no matter what.
After checking the point of impact, the robot immediately identified the source of the shot.
"Northeast direction, thirty-two degrees. Suspected ultra-long-range engagement. Requiring Night Owl and Fanged Hound robot support."
As the robot transmitted the data, nearby Fanged Hound and Night Owl units—already on standby—launched into action.
Electromagnetic weapon?
Roland narrowed his eyes. Now that caught him off guard. Things had been calm for a while, and he'd thought Pico had given up on assassinating him. He'd actually relaxed.
But the ambush had been waiting here all along.
The bigger question: where was the person who had just unleashed such heavy firepower?
Another Imperial Guard robot had already locked onto the attacker's position, but because its top priority was protecting Roland, it held back.
"Unit Two, take out the heavy fire support. Don't worry about me."
Unit Two acknowledged the order, pulled a Shotgun from its back, and stomped heavily toward the target.
Elsewhere, another sniper who had been hiding for quite some time smiled cruelly.
"Idiot…"
When he saw Roland's security robots block the electromagnetic rounds, he nearly gave up and withdrew. But he hadn't expected to be handed another opportunity.
To ensure the kill, he pushed the power output even higher. It risked blowing the gun—but it was worth it.
Another crackling surge sounded as the high-powered Nekomata sniper rifle fired, launching a tungsten-steel projectile that could tear through titanium alloy.
In that instant, Light's combat instincts locked on to the sniper's position—but it was too late.
The bullet struck Roland square in the forehead.
THUD!
The immense impact sent Roland staggering backward. In the shadows, both snipers' faces lit up with excitement.
"Damn it! I let my guard down. Sneak-attacking an old man like me?!"
Roland wiped his forehead, grumbling as he got up.
The snipers' smiles froze instantly—and turned into horror.
They immediately began packing up their equipment, scrambling to run.
That bullet had been almost completely neutralized by Light's bulletproof coating and reinforced alloy frame. All it did was knock Roland slightly off balance.
Had he not been so relaxed and failed to keep Light's combat system running, the system would have alerted him the moment the sniper took aim—and then triggered acceleration mode. The attackers might never have fired at all.
Roland took a slow breath, then headed directly toward the sniper who had shot him.
He intended to return the favor.
"Damn it damn it—He didn't tell me I'd be shooting a damn immortal monster! Fuck!!"
Panicking, the sniper cursed while packing up his rifle. Suddenly, his instincts screamed at him—someone was behind him.
He whipped around and fired without hesitation.
CLANG!
Two figures blurred through the wall. The sniper's face drained of color.
Roland nodded, satisfied, twirling his katana once before pointing it at the sniper.
"Again."
"Go to hell!!!!"
Crackling discharges filled the air as multiple orange sword arcs slashed through the room almost simultaneously. Dust exploded everywhere—floorboards, walls, and ceiling torn apart by the exchange.
Just when the sniper thought the attack was over, a katana settled quietly onto his shoulder. The blade's cold surface reflected Roland's silhouette—an orange glow forming along its edge.
A soft thud echoed as something hit the ground.
Roland sheathed his blade.
"The look of someone who can't accept defeat… really is ugly."