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Chapter 318 c
🕑 Added 2025-07-12 15:03:01 +0000 UTCChapter 318 c
2-IN-1 chapter
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“To be precise, it’s not ‘making a move’—it’s our last opportunity.”
Leo frowned and shook his head. “I don’t follow.”
“One segment of the Festival involves a festival float procession through a street in Japantown. As you already know, Japantown isn’t a single street—it’s an entire district, with multiple streets and communities…”
Leo waved a hand, cutting him off.
“I’ve lived in Night City longer than you have. I don’t need a Night City 101 from you. What I don’t understand is—how exactly are you planning to use this? What’s your so-called ‘last opportunity’?”
Takemura, stubborn as ever, actually began explaining seriously.
“First, we need to get our hands on the float route. Then, we infiltrate the Arasaka Industrial Complex in Santo Domingo to tamper with the float. Finally, I’ll leap onto the float carrying Hanako Arasaka and meet her face-to-face. Does that make sense now?”
Leo shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t understand. It’s that you don’t.”
Takemura’s plan, at best, was storming the gates with a personal plea. If meeting with Oda in private was a last-ditch gamble, then this plan of his was pure suicide.
Yes—it was digging your own grave.
Leo couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd the idea was.
He really wondered what kind of mental state Takemura had been in when he came up with that.
“Do you realize what the consequences would be if you tried something like that? The news says Hanako Arasaka will be riding the float, sure—but it never said she’d be alone.”
“Forget just the float. Even the route will be crawling with covert ops agents planted in the crowd ahead of time.”
“You’re not getting anywhere near Hanako Arasaka.”
If Takemura’s full-body cyberware was still online, he might’ve had a slim chance of approaching her.
But his systems had long been shut down remotely by Arasaka. No matter how skilled he was physically, he was now just an ordinary man.
Never mind getting onto the float—if he actually managed that, he’d be gunned down instantly by Hanako’s personal security team.
And that’s not even mentioning Oda.
No matter how strong Takemura used to be, the moment he made a move, Oda would kill him on the spot.
As for gambling on Oda possibly going easy on him out of old loyalty?
Leo thought it’d be best not to gamble at all.
For a moment, Leo suspected that Takemura had lost his will to live—why else would he come up with a plan that was practically a form of suicide?
Or maybe this guy still had some lingering of the old way and wanted to commit zepuki but with modern methods?
“So I need your help, Leo-san.”
Takemura Goro bowed deeply. This time it wasn’t a mere nod or slight incline—it was a formal ninety-degree bow, both arms straight at his sides.
The gesture was nothing short of deeply respectful and utterly sincere.
But Leo wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t about to throw himself into a pit just because Takemura was putting on a show.
“If you want to dream, go find a wishing fountain. No matter what you say, I’m not helping you.”
Help Takemura infiltrate the procession float transport that Hanako Arasaka would be traveling in?
What a joke. Unless Leo had gone completely insane, there was no way.
Merging Saburo Arasaka’s funeral with the Arasoul Festival… broadcasting in advance that Hanako would be attending… riding in a ceremonial armored vehicle…
What did it all mean?
It was obvious. Yorinobu Arasaka wanted to use the occasion—and the public eye—to kill his sister, then swallow up her entire faction.
And if Leo helped Takemura, he’d be doing it under Yorinobu’s nose—essentially serving as his fall guy.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
Leo had people he cared about. Friends. Brothers. Subordinates.
He had his own business.
Aurora PMC was still in its early stages—at the moment it was just a construction site.
But in the future? With his special ability outpacing Militech and Kang Tao wasn’t out of reach.
And if he got involved in this mess now, all of that would vanish in an instant.
What would Takemura give him in return?
To be blunt, Takemura himself was a fugitive dog, barely surviving by clinging to Hanako’s shadow.
All he had to offer were empty promises.
He couldn’t give Leo anything of real value.
So why would Leo take on all that risk, for no reward?
Even Oda, who had both a mentor-student and comrade-in-arms relationship with Takemura, wasn’t willing to introduce him to Hanako.
And Leo—what was he to Takemura? Why the hell would he stick his neck out?
Takemura opened his mouth, seemingly about to speak again, but Leo cut him off immediately with a raised hand.
“Don’t try to talk me into it. Nothing you say will change my mind. You’re just going to make me sick.”
“And since we do at least know each other, I’ll give you one piece of advice.”
“Let’s say—hypothetically—I agreed to help you. And let’s say you somehow managed to board Hanako’s transport. Let’s say you even got to meet her face-to-face. So what?”
“Do you honestly believe she’d trust only your word?”
“On one side is her biological brother. On the other, a fugitive Arasaka is actively hunting. If it were you, who would you believe?”
“Stop trying to return to Arasaka. The fact that Yorinobu hasn’t sent more people to kill you doesn’t mean he’s forgotten you. He just sees you as insignificant now—a pawn not even worth the trouble.”
“But if you start getting in his way again, he’ll crush you like an insect. Without a second thought.”
Yorinobu Arasaka’s goal was to create a world without Arasaka.
A noble goal. Idealistic, even.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
Idealism and morality don’t always go hand in hand.
The world isn’t black and white. Good men seize power. They deceive. They manipulate.
And when idealists are determined to reach their goals, they’re just as willing to kill.
If a so-called “good man” lets moral restraint become a leash, and that gives evil the space to rise—
People won’t call him “a good man.” They’ll call him weak.
That’s why there’s a saying: “The kind should not command armies. The righteous should not manage wealth. The sentimental should not make decisions. The virtuous should not govern.”
So if Takemura really planned to make a move at the Arasoul Festival, Leo had no doubt: Yorinobu Arasaka wouldn’t spare him again.
He’d chase him to the ends of the Earth—until there was nothing left of him.
Takemura's face turned the color of pig liver, flushed deep with rage and frustration.
He wanted to argue. But deep down, he knew Leo was right—about almost everything.
The only part he couldn’t accept was the claim that Hanako wouldn’t believe him.
Because that belief—that one fragile hope—was the only reason Takemura kept going.
Still, in the end, he said nothing more.
He turned and walked away, defeated.
If Leo wouldn’t help, there was no reason to stay.
But he hadn’t gotten far before Leo called out behind him.
“Wait.”
Takemura stopped in his tracks and snapped, irritated. “Leo-san, you’ve made yourself clear. What now? You want to insult me some more?”
Leo shrugged. “Why would I waste time doing that? I just wanted to ask—do you even have a place to stay?”
Takemura answered instantly. “Yes.”
Leo glanced at him. “Under a freeway bridge, right?”
Takemura said nothing, but the coldness in his eyes grew darker, tinged with subtle resentment.
Leo waved him over and pointed toward the armored SUV he’d arrived in.
“Get in. I’ll find you a place to live.”
Takemura hesitated, then followed him into the SUV.
Leo drove out of the docks and entered a tunnel. The worn-out lighting overhead flickered as they passed, casting an uneven glow on Takemura’s confused face.
“Where are we going?” he finally asked.
Leo kept his eyes on the road. “Northside Industrial Zone. There are cheap rentals there. I’ll cover it.”
“But… I have no money.”
That old saying—“A single coin can stop a hero”—fit Takemura perfectly.
He refused to grovel like those street mercs he looked down on, refused to do petty jobs for fixers he had no respect for—and all that meant no income at all.
“I’ll pay your rent. I’ll cover the first year.”
Apartments in the Northside Industrial Zone went for about 2,000 eurodollars a month. A full year’s rent plus three month’s deposit came to just 30,000.
Less than what Leo paid for a single month’s rent in one of his Vista Del Rey apartment.
....Yes, “one of.” In his line of work, it made more sense to spend money than hoard it—he never knew if he’d even make it to next Monday special abilities or not. He would see to it that he never died with regrets ever again.
A mere thirty thousand eurodollars—this amount was barely a drizzle to Leo.
But for Takemura Goro, now down on his luck, it was a lifeline in the snow.
Takemura’s expression softened with emotion. “Thank you, Mr. Leo.”
Leo didn’t say “You’re welcome.” He simply nodded slightly in response.
Suddenly, he pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road.
Before Takemura could ask with confusion written across his face, Leo had already stepped out of the car.
“Wait here for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
Takemura watched Leo walk into a roadside supermarket.
About ten minutes later, Leo came back out, holding several plastic bags in each hand.
Takemura quickly got out to help him open the trunk.
He watched Leo place all the bags—big and small—into the trunk.
“What is all this…?”
“Toothbrush, toothpaste, towels, bath towels, sheets—all the essentials. Even if you're broke, you should still take care of yourself. You're a man—start treating yourself better.”
These odds and ends didn’t cost much. But in terms of building goodwill, they were more effective than handing over cash of the same value.
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“We’re here.”
Leo parked in front of a row of two-story buildings.
This area, on the southern edge of the Northside Industrial Zone near Kabuki, was relatively less desolate than the northern part.
Still, row after row of faded, low-rise buildings bore the marks of time. All traces of past life and prosperity had long since vanished from this worn-down part of the city.
It stood in stark contrast to the glittering lights of nearby Little China and Kabuki.
But even in its decay, this place had one distinct advantage:
The suits wouldn’t come here.
Those corporate agents wouldn’t bother scouring a dump like this to look for Takemura.
That alone meant one less thing for him to worry about.
Leo and Takemura got out of the SUV and retrieved the bags from the trunk. They checked door numbers one by one.
It didn’t take long to find the unit Leo had rented for Takemura through SimpleRent.
After verifying Takemura’s ID, the automatic door slid open, retracting into the wall.
Renting a place in the city for only 2,000 eurodollars—it was easy to guess how filthy and rundown it was inside.
Just a glance revealed thick layers of dust on the floor, stained walls, scuffed and faded furniture, and garbage casually strewn across the ground.
Much of it was already rotting and attracting flies.
Before they could even settle in, they had to clean up the mess.
The wall stains could wait until tomorrow or the day after—but the garbage had to go now.
No one could sleep comfortably in that state.
After a fair amount of effort, they finally managed to at least get the floor clean.
Takemura looked genuinely embarrassed. “Apologies, Mr. Leo… I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
“It wasn’t that much trouble,” Leo replied. “But the rest of the cleaning—you’ll have to handle it yourself.”
After saying goodbye to Takemura, Leo got back in his armored SUV and drove off.
From the rundown industrial edge of Northside, through the chaotic bustle of Kabuki, and into Corpo Plaza—it felt like crossing into a completely different city.
It wasn’t that Leo couldn’t afford a better apartment for Takemura.
This was exactly what he intended.
Think of it like raising a cat.
If someone like Panam, or other members of the Aldecaldos, were like kittens, then you could treat them well from the start—offer better conditions and higher pay than any other fixer could. That way, they’d remain loyal and remember the favor.
But Takemura was a grown cat—wary and skeptical of others.
If Leo gave him too much, it wouldn’t inspire gratitude. It would breed suspicion—he’d wonder what Leo’s real intentions were.
So this kind of modest help, without overstepping, was the best approach.
It wouldn’t raise Takemura’s guard, yet it would still help him—and make sure he remembered who had extended the hand.
Leo didn’t expect anything in return.
If anything, you could call it an investment.
The cost wasn’t much. If it didn’t pay off, no big deal.
But if it did.... That would be a pleasant surprise.
