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Chapter 178 c
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 15:00:13 +0000 UTCChapter 178 c
Before Saburo Arasaka took over, Arasaka was nothing more than a small manufacturing company.
Now, banking, private security, and manufacturing had become the three pillars of Arasaka’s empire. That once-small firm had grown into one of the most powerful megacorporations on the planet.
“Yes, I’ve done it. But unfortunately... my time is almost up.”
Goro Takemura froze. “Master Saburo…”
Saburo raised a hand, stopping Takemura before he could speak further.
“I know my own body better than anyone.”
Even with all the cutting-edge medical tech at his disposal, his body was deteriorating—inevitably, irreversibly. Lately, the signs had become more obvious.
The sudden turn of the conversation left Takemura at a loss for words.
Privately, many board members of Arasaka had long harbored resentment toward Saburo. They believed his obsession with control was too extreme—he had lived over 150 years and still refused to relinquish power.
Even compared to the longest-reigning emperors in history, Saburo’s time in power had stretched on too long.
More than once, whispers in dark corners had speculated: how many more years would he live before he finally let go of the throne?
Among Saburo’s children, only Yorinobu had openly rebelled. His daughter Hanako and granddaughter Michiko had never expressed a hint of discontent.
“The more I feel time slipping away, the more I regret Yorinobu’s path. He’s still so young, with limitless potential ahead of him, and yet...”
As Saburo spoke, something in his tone struck Takemura as off.
It wasn’t just disappointment. There was something else—envy, maybe... or even a desire to possess and replace?
The thought was so insane that Takemura crushed it the moment it surfaced.
Impossible.
There was no way Master Saburo would want to take over his son’s body. The Relic was developed simply to elevate Arasaka’s wealth and power—nothing more.
Only then did Takemura realize Saburo had been staring at him the entire time.
Startled, he quickly said, “Yorinobu is still young. I believe he’ll come to his senses eventually.”
Saburo smiled faintly, apparently pleased.
“I’m glad to hear that. When I die, will you serve Yorinobu as loyally as you’ve served me?”
Takemura felt the question was deeply unsettling—especially under the current circumstances.
It was almost as if Saburo expected to die in Night City.
The thought sent a chill down his spine, and he quickly purged the blasphemous idea from his mind.
“Yes. I will remain loyal to the Arasaka family. Always.”
…
Konpeki Plaza was located in Arasaka Waterfront.
During the Fourth Corporate War, a nuclear bomb had detonated inside Arasaka Tower, wiping out the Night City municipal center.
At the time, public opinion largely blamed Arasaka for the attack—and for the destruction of the city’s heart.
The President of the United States used the outrage to justify expelling Arasaka from Night City entirely.
For decades afterward, Arasaka operated solely out of Japan. That lasted until 2069, when the Unification War began.
The new U.S. President launched a campaign to reintegrate the breakaway territories—including Night City. As federal troops approached the city’s outskirts, Mayor Ryan requested assistance from Arasaka.
In response, Arasaka deployed a supercarrier to Night City’s port.
Within hours, the U.S. forces withdrew.
Arasaka’s unwavering support during the Unification War earned them favor once again, and in 2070, they officially returned to Night City.
Their first move was acquiring a massive swath of land in Watson and converting it into a hyper-modern industrial and logistics hub—Arasaka Waterfront.
They flattened the crumbling buildings of Old Watson and erected a militarized complex of reinforced walls, security checkpoints, and auto-turrets.
The sprawling facility included endless warehouses, hangars, and production lines, all draped with the unmistakable Arasaka triple-sakura crest—a reminder to everyone entering that this place belonged to the corporation, and the working class were little more than ants.
…
As they neared Konpeki Plaza, T-BUG patched into the comms.
“Yo, how’s it looking?”
Jackie couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. “Smoother than sandpaper on chrome.”
Leo glanced at the skyline. “We can see the outer walls of the hotel.”
“Alright, I’m setting up an encrypted uplink. It’ll guide you straight through Konpeki’s systems,” T-BUG said, then paused. “Leo, check with V and Jackie. Make sure everyone’s synced. Better safe than sorry.”
“V, you good?”
V nodded. “Yeah, I’m in. Loud and clear.”
Leo turned to Jackie. “And you?”
“Just static. Say something, BUG.”
T-BUG replied coldly, “The greatest crimes are born not from poverty—but from greed.”
Jackie frowned. That line immediately killed his good mood. “The hell does that mean?”
“Sounds like you caught one of Aristotle’s quotes.”
“Oh yeah, I heard it. No clue what your Greek buddy meant—just got me hyped, that’s all.”
Jackie wasn’t as simple as he looked. The moment he heard the name “Aristotle,” he knew it was a Greek philosopher.
“Maybe try thinking about what it means? What about you, Leo?” T-BUG aimed the quote at Jackie, but now she was asking Leo directly.
Leo spoke calmly.
“The quote makes sense. If the man who said it hadn’t come from Rome but from the stables, it’d make even more sense.”
“Aristotle, born 384 BC, died 322 BC.”
“His father was the court physician to King Philip II of Macedon. That makes him middle class within the slave-owning aristocracy.”
“He enrolled in Plato’s Academy at age 17 and studied there for 20 years.”
“In a world where slavery still existed, being able to spend two decades just studying? That already made him more privileged than 99% of the common laborers.”
“Born into wealth, educated without worry—of course he’d say greed is the real villain, not poverty.”
“But if Aristotle had a family to support, worked six days a week, twelve hours a day…”
“Then got laid off at thirty-five, couldn’t find a job, and had a mortgage that’d take thirty years to pay off—let’s see if he’d still spout that kind of crap.”
“BUG, sometimes you can’t just listen to what someone says—you have to watch what they do.”
---
If one word could describe Konpeki Plaza, it was “opulence.”
With 420 exclusive suites, 20 conference rooms, 14 luxury pools, and some of the finest bars and restaurants in Night City—not to mention services money couldn’t even measure—it was a place designed to fulfill every need, desire, and fantasy.
Guests who stayed at Konpeki never forgot the experience.
The Delamain cab rolled smoothly through the gates and pulled to a gentle stop at the hotel’s grand front entrance.
To project an aura of elite status and wealth, the courtyard surrounding the hotel was filled with live greenery.
In the year 2077—an age of ecological collapse—importing and maintaining real plants was the ultimate flex.
“Thank you for choosing Delamain. Best of luck. I’ll be waiting in the underground garage,” came the polite, sterile voice from the rear screen.
“Finally here... Ah, crap, no weapons allowed, right?”
Dexter had been very clear—no weapons inside Konpeki Plaza.
The only exception was the Flathead. Since their cover identities were arms dealers, the Flathead was part of the “demo.”
So they could bring that—but nothing else.
The three of them left their weapons behind in the cab.
“Alright, ‘Luke,’ ‘Hanna,’ let’s go.”
They stepped out.
“Hold up, I’ll grab the Flathead,” Jackie said, heading to the trunk. He hefted the alloy case containing their crucial hardware for the job—Flathead.
It wasn’t the same case they’d stolen from the Maelstrom gang.
After leaving Afterlife, Leo had asked the Delamain to pull over. He’d switched the Flathead into a different case—this one larger, heavier, and bulkier.
Now Jackie was hauling the upgraded version. The original case had already been big and heavy.
This one was even more massive.
Neither Jackie nor V understood why Leo had gone to all that trouble.
