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Chapter 316 c
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 15:08:56 +0000 UTCChapter 316 c
2-IN-1 chapter
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Takemura’s face stiffened as he realized he’d been spotted. He moved with agility as he climbed down from the shoddy structure.
Even without his cyberware, his physical conditioning was still solid.
He didn’t ask how Leo had found him. He simply approached.
As he got closer, Leo finally saw him clearly under the scattered lights from the overpass and the glow of far-off highrises.
He was still wearing the same coat from their last meeting—but now it was visibly worn, patched, and stained. It probably hadn’t been washed in days. The sour stench confirmed it.
His samurai topknot was still there but a mess—no longer carefully tied.
And his face was marked by an exhaustion that couldn’t be wiped away.
It hadn’t been long since they last met, yet Takemura looked like he’d aged a full ten years.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Leo.”
Leo could hear it—Takemura wasn’t being sarcastic. He meant it.
Now that was interesting.
If Leo remembered correctly, the last time they met, Takemura had outright called them “petty thieves.”
Leo gave a half-smile. “This place is out of the way.”
Takemura didn’t deny it. “Yes. Good for private meetings.”
“You’re not looking too great. What happened to you?”
“A man stripped of his implants, money, and dignity… this is what’s left. But there’s a benefit—no one on the street pays me any mind now.”
There was bitterness in his voice.
Takemura, though essentially a high-ranking bodyguard, had once held significant status. He was part of the executive echelon—he had real authority in Arasaka.
But once Yorinobu branded him a traitor, it was all gone.
Leo didn’t know if Takemura had saved any of the money he earned while working for Arasaka in physical form. If he had some cash set aside, then maybe it wasn’t as catastrophic. If he hadn’t, the blow must’ve been devastating.
That was exactly why, ever since returning from Tijuana, Leo had arranged with Padre that all future dealings would be done via credit chips—no more bank transfers.
You never knew when shit would go sideways.
“No more hitmen from Yorinobu?”
“No. Yorinobu’s got his own problems now.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “You still have inside intel?”
Unless Takemura still had people within Arasaka willing to feed him information, how could he know Yorinobu had his hands full?
Takemura hesitated, as if unsure whether to answer honestly. After a pause, he admitted, “No. I’m just guessing based on what I’ve seen on the news.”
Leo gave a small, near-invisible nod.
Of course.
When someone falls from a higher class, their past social network doesn’t follow them. Those people are usually the first to cut ties.
“Yorinobu and his puppets keep smiling for the cameras, swearing everything’s under control. But the more they smile, the faker their words sound.”
Takemura’s tone was almost self-consoling. But given how much he now hated Yorinobu, no one expected him to say anything nice.
“What do you think the odds are that Yorinobu can actually get things under control? Will the board support him?”
“I…”
Takemura instinctively started to answer, but then caught himself. He realized Leo was trying to fish for intel and quickly changed tack. “Let’s not talk about that, alright? I don’t want to discuss it.”
Leo was mildly disappointed.
If he could’ve gotten something useful, he could’ve sold it to Rogue for a nice little payday.
But he hadn’t expected much. After all, Takemura, despite being a known Arasaka traitor, still harbored hopes of returning to the company someday.
He wouldn’t betray Arasaka—so he definitely wouldn’t hand over classified info to outsiders.
Truth be told, if Yorinobu hadn’t tried to have him killed, Takemura might not even hate him that much.
Because Takemura’s last name wasn’t Arasaka.
The chance to change his fate had been given to him by Saburo Arasaka, but the power and status he gained were never truly secure—more like a floating fortress built on shifting sand.
His fate had become entangled with Arasaka: if Arasaka thrived, so did he; if it collapsed, he’d fall with it. Had Yorinobu kept him close and trusted him, even if Takemura later found out Saburo had been murdered by Yorinobu, he might have done nothing.
During the Edo period, the height of bushido, not everyone followed bushido. Let alone now, centuries after the shogunate had vanished.
Since Takemura didn’t want to talk about Arasaka’s internal struggles, fine. Leo had only asked on a whim—if he could profit from the intel, great. If not, no loss.
He redirected the conversation to the matter at hand.
“Alright then, let’s talk about the person we’re supposed to meet tonight. You can tell me that much, right?”
This time, Takemura didn’t avoid the question.
“His name is Oda Sandayu. He’s Hanako Arasaka’s bodyguard.”
Hanako Arasaka—daughter of Saburo Arasaka, and sister to Yorinobu.
It was said that when Yorinobu ran off years ago to form Steel Dragons and failed, it was Hanako who pleaded with her father to take him back.
Yes—one of the reasons.
The other reason was that Saburo’s eldest son, Kei Arasaka—Yorinobu’s older brother—had died in the Fourth Corporate War.
With the heir apparent dead, and no other successor being cultivated, the company risked falling into someone else’s hands.
That concern wasn’t unique to Saburo—it was shared by most corporations run under a family-owned structure.
Within Arasaka’s internal factions, the Tori faction was led by Hanako.
This group leaned conservative, advocating a continuation of Saburo’s policies and long-standing traditions to preserve stability.
The Tori faction had less influence than the Taka that backed Yorinobu, but more than the Hato, which supported Arasaka Michiko—Kei’s daughter and Saburo’s granddaughter.
Now, the old emperor had just fallen, and the new one had barely taken the throne.
All of Arasaka was caught in a swirling vortex.
Since this Oda served as Hanako Arasaka’s personal bodyguard, there was no way he would leave her side at a time like this—unless...
“Hanako Arasaka... she’s come to Night City?” Leo asked.
Takemura nodded. What he said next confirmed Leo’s suspicions.
“Miss Hanako came to attend Lord Saburo’s funeral. Yorinobu insisted on holding the funeral in Night City. He also wants Miss Hanako to ride the festival float during the Arasaka memorial procession. I suspect...”
Leo glanced at him. “Suspect what?”
But Takemura immediately shook his head, refusing to speak further. “No, it’s nothing.”
“You’ve got a bad habit of never finishing your sentences. Very annoying.”
Still, Leo could already guess what Takemura was reluctant to say.
Arasaka’s headquarters was in Japan, so naturally Saburo Arasaka’s remains should have been returned there, and the funeral should have taken place on Japanese soil.
But Yorinobu Arasaka had instead demanded that the funeral be merged with this year’s Arasaka Festival in Night City—and specifically ordered that Hanako ride the float through the streets.
The implication was clear.
What Takemura suspected—but dared not say—was this: Yorinobu intended to use the festival as cover to eliminate his sister, leaving her faction leaderless and ripe for absorption, thus consolidating his own power.
After all, one couldn’t clear out the city for a festival. Not because Arasaka lacked the power, but because if you removed all the people, what was the point of hosting something so grand? Who would see it? Who would it impress?
So, if Takemura was right, and Yorinobu really intended to kill his sister during the festival, the plan had a high chance of success.
Because plenty of people in the city resented Arasaka—and someone might well take a shot at Hanako during the event, earning themselves the title of Night City’s number one gunman.
Even if no one did, Yorinobu could plant his own people in the crowd to pose as angry citizens and carry out the hit.
That was the true extent of what Takemura suspected—but couldn’t bring himself to voice.
“This Oda you mentioned—can he be trusted? He won’t sell us out for money and glory?”
Never mind the corp’s vast scale. Inside, every department was a battlefield, and the power struggles could fill a hundred-thousand-word novel.
And it wasn’t just Arasaka—any megacorp’s executives had climbed to their position over the bodies of others.
Leo could understand Takemura’s desperation to cling to any straw that might save him.
But he still couldn’t resist offering a warning: don’t lose your head.
Takemura shook his head. “He’s someone who values honor—different from the kind of street loyalty you’re thinking of.”
Honor?
Leo wasn’t sure how much honor was left in those still working for Arasaka.
But if Takemura was that confident, then they’d wait and see.
Either way, he had his tactical goggles.
If the one who showed up wasn’t Oda—but instead Arasaka troops sent to silence them—Leo could bail before the trap snapped shut.
..............................................
....................
.
Time ticked by slowly.
Neither of them spoke. Both simply waited.
About thirty minutes passed. Still, the abandoned dock remained empty, the only signs of life being the distant silhouettes of Japan Town.
Even the nightlife was winding down. The ones out for fun were heading home. Everyone was going back to their corners.
Leo looked at Takemura, whose expression had grown darker.
He didn’t really want to pour cold water on him—but he also didn't want to waste his time.
“Looks like your friend’s sense of honor isn’t worth much. What happened to that bushido spirit?”
Takemura’s face was like stone, but he still insisted on believing.
“No. Oda’s not that kind of man. Something must have come up.”
“If that makes you feel better. But I’m heading back. It’s late.”
“Leo-san, please wait. Just half an hour more. Let’s wait a little longer.” Then, as if feeling his words weren’t enough, Takemura bowed slightly.
“I’m begging you.”
Leo said nothing for a while, then nodded.
“Fine. Half an hour more.”
….....................................
Another thirty minutes passed quickly.
Not even a shadow showed up.
Now Leo didn’t need to say anything—Takemura’s face already made his disappointment clear.
But before he could open his mouth, Leo beat him to it.
“Well, it’s already late. Bad for the body to stay up this long. Want to just pull an all-nighter? How about we wait another hour?”
Takemura’s face lit up with surprise and gratitude. “Leo-san, thank you.”
But this time, they didn’t have to wait the full hour.
Just over twenty minutes later, the distant sound of an engine echoed toward them.
Takemura’s face brightened immediately.
Leo, meanwhile, activated his tactical goggles and scanned the tunnel. A car was approaching.
One person inside.
No signs of other vehicles in pursuit.
That had to be Oda.
“He’s driving? Hm, good sign. He usually keeps a low profile,” Takemura said, watching the black sedan exit the tunnel and pass them slowly.
But the car didn’t stop right away—it drove farther in, made a turn, and only then parked, nose facing the tunnel entrance.
Engine idling. Headlights on.
The front aimed at the escape route—ready for a quick getaway.
Professional.
It wasn’t just Takemura who was wary—the other side was clearly taking precautions too.
The door opened.
A man in a tailored suit stepped out.
He was Oda Santayu.
Unlike Takemura, he didn’t wear the traditional samurai-style topknot. Instead, his hairstyle swept diagonally across his forehead, covering one eye.
The fitted suit matched his lean frame perfectly.
As a bodyguard, Oda’s build was that of a typical Japanese man—not the massive bulk of a white or black merc, like Dexter’s hired guns.
But looks were deceiving.
Anyone who underestimated Oda would pay with their life.
As he approached, Leo’s tactical goggles tried to scan him—but the entire silhouette returned as digital noise.
This guy, like Leo, was equipped with top-tier anti-detection countermeasures.
Oda Sandayu clasped his hands and gave Takemura a polite bow. “Takemura-san.”
Takemura returned the gesture—but only said “Oda,” not “Oda-kun” or “Oda-san.”
In Japanese, calling someone by surname without an honorific usually meant one of two things:
(1) deep familiarity, or
(2) clear hierarchy—where the speaker considered himself above the one addressed.
Comments
TOS SOT
Hm I kinda noticed his Levels and Skill hadn't come up in a long time. I wonder when there is more again of that.
