291-295

Chapter 291: Samurai Band 

“So, you’re making a comeback?” 

After some playful banter, Kerry Eurodyne got serious, his face stern as he addressed the matter at hand.  

“Yep, I’m getting back into music.” 

Johnny Silverhand lit a cigarette, laying out his plan. The reunion of Samurai hinged on Kerry’s willingness to join. After all, Kerry Eurodyne was the core of the band—he’d founded Samurai in the first place.  

“Alright, how do you want to do this? I’m in.” 

Kerry didn’t hesitate, his decision quick and firm, no trace of doubt.  

“You sure? Don’t need to think it over?” 

Johnny’s face broke into a grin, clearly thrilled.  

“Think about what? This is a huge spotlight for me too.” 

Kerry shot him a look, blunt as ever, making Johnny’s mouth twitch in amusement.  

“Get in touch with the old crew and throw a Samurai reunion concert to announce Johnny Silverhand’s return.” 

Jack Welles chimed in from the side, outlining the plan they’d settled on.  

“No problem. But let’s be clear—we’re not reforming Samurai for good. Everyone’s got their own lives now. Nancy, Denny, Henry, even me—we can’t just drop everything to tour again.” 

Kerry nodded at first, then shook his head. A one-off concert was doable, but fully reviving Samurai? That was off the table.  

“You get it. It’s been over fifty years. Things change, people move on.” 

Kerry’s words were straightforward. Time shifts everything, especially after half a century.  

“I get it.” 

Johnny nodded, not surprised. He didn’t expect the old gang to drop their lives and hit the road with him again.  

“Here’s Nancy, Denny, and Henry’s contact info. I think it’s better if you reach out to them yourself.” 

Kerry re-added Johnny to his contacts and sent him the info for the other three.  

“…” 

Johnny looked a bit awkward. Just reaching out wasn’t enough—they’d have to believe it was really him! He glanced at Kerry, knowing it was time for the all-powerful “Boss Kerry” to step in. With his resources and connections, tracking down the three former bandmates should be a breeze.  

“Nancy’s a journalist, Denny’s a TV host, and Henry… he’s a junkie.” 

Kerry spoke up, laying out the fates of Samurai’s members. Each had taken a wildly different path, but one of them had crashed harder than the rest.  

Johnny Silverhand’s downfall came from his own reckless personality. Free of Johnny’s chaos, Kerry Eurodyne had soared to become a “rock god.” Nancy’s life as a journalist was dangerous but fulfilling. Denny, now a successful TV host, had fame and fortune. But Henry? He’d completely wrecked his life.  

“Henry…” 

Kerry sighed. That guy’s current state? Honestly, he had no one to blame but himself.  

“…” 

Johnny stayed quiet. He knew exactly what kind of person Henry was—a genius and a madman. Most of the time, Henry was lost in his own insanity, only occasionally lucid enough to tap into his brilliance. When he did, he could achieve things others could only dream of.  

Others might not know, but Johnny and the band did. Henry had invented all sorts of things, only to sell them off for nothing, never reaping any fame or profit. He probably never realized how talented he truly was.  

“After Samurai broke up, Henry had a bad accident. Really bad. After that, he got even weirder. He tried to pull himself together, make a comeback, but he just spiraled into rock bottom.” 

Kerry had kept tabs on his old bandmates, but some things you just can’t fix, no matter how much you want to help.  

Henry and Denny had dated back in the day, but Henry, being the jerk he was, dumped her. Their relationship tanked, but Denny, being a decent person, still helped him out after his accident. She tried to pull him up. Sadly, Henry was too far gone, a total lost cause. Denny gave up, washing her hands of him.  

“That bastard’s always been a mess.” 

Johnny sighed. Genius and lunatic—Henry had tipped toward the latter.  

“Such a shame.” 

Kerry shook his head. If he recalled correctly, Henry had invented the network port connector—yep, the same one still in use today. But the patent? Not in Henry’s hands.  

“Let’s go find them.” 

Kerry waved a hand, signaling it was time to move. Time to round up the others and plan the concert.  

A shadow swept over them, and under Kerry Eurodyne’s stunned gaze, Kerry whisked Johnny, Jack, and V away in an instant.  

“Fuck! What was that?! It’s kinda like…” 

Kerry Eurodyne cursed, his mind flashing to news reports. It reminded him of something tied to Dave Collins.  

“Johnny, that guy… how’d he get mixed up with someone like that? Classic Johnny.” 

Kerry chuckled, shaking his head. Somehow, this craziness felt perfectly on-brand for Johnny Silverhand.  

Meanwhile, Kerry had transported the trio to a swanky villa—Denny’s place, complete with a pool in the backyard.  

“Denny! Denny! You home?!” 

Jack Welles, as usual, took the lead, hollering like he owned the place. V facepalmed beside him. Jack was the same everywhere, totally at ease, like he was chilling in his own backyard.  

“Who’s that? Why’re you in my backyard?” 

A Black woman with an afro and a bold, fiery presence strode over—Night City’s Black Pearl herself. Denny gripped a baseball bat, looking ready to bash someone’s head in. And she could’ve—her bat was a legendary one, the kind that’d leave you hurting.  

Clang. 

The bat hit the ground as Denny’s eyes locked on Johnny Silverhand—the real, unmistakable Johnny Silverhand.  

“Hey, Denny. You holding up?” 

Johnny greeted her, a touch awkward. Denny had changed—more polished, more commanding. Her vibe was worlds apart from the old days.  

“No, no way. I took my meds…” 

Denny clutched her head, muttering. She had high-functioning neurosis, a mental disorder that caused erratic thoughts, emotions, and behaviors. But she could still live independently, even thrive, depending on how she managed it.  

Joining Samurai had been her escape. The stage was where she found her true self, free from the chaotic thoughts that plagued her offstage. Most of the time, she fought to keep those thoughts from taking over. Contrary to what people might think, she hadn’t spiraled into chaos—she lived more normally than most.  

Compared to Henry, at least. He acted like the one with severe, irreversible neurosis.  

“Hey, Denny, it’s not a hallucination. It’s really me. I broke out, and I just got your address from that jerk Kerry.” 

Johnny knew all about Denny’s condition and quickly reassured her.  

“What the hell’s going on?” 

Denny stared at Johnny, dazed. Deep down, she missed those days. For someone like her, being accepted by the band and performing together had been a game-changer.  

Of course, meeting a scumbag like Henry had also been a game-changer—nearly cured her condition out of sheer frustration.  

Johnny explained everything, leaving Denny floored. As for the idea of a Samurai reunion concert, she didn’t hesitate.  

“Hell yeah! Why not?!” 

Denny’s excitement was infectious. She still thought about Johnny sometimes. Sure, he was a jerk, but compared to Henry, he was slightly less awful.  

“You’re essential to Samurai.” 

Johnny let out a relieved breath. He meant it—Denny was the drummer, the soul of the band, the foundation. You could lose anyone else, but not the drummer.  

A bassist, though? You might not even notice they’re gone, Kerry thought to himself. That’s why, between Denny and Henry, Denny was the obvious choice. She was the drummer, Henry was the bassist—importance was no contest. Plus, Denny, despite her condition, was far more reliable. Henry seemed fine but was a walking disaster.  

“When’s the concert? I’m in, but I’ll need to tweak my schedule. I’m a TV host now.” 

Denny asked, not mentioning Henry. At least he hadn’t dumped cement in her pool this time.  

She and Henry didn’t get along, but with Johnny here, she didn’t mind teaming up with him for this.  

“Once I round everyone up, we’ll sort out the details.” 

Johnny replied, glancing at Kerry, who nodded. The other two were already located.  

“Cool, just let me know.” 

Denny agreed readily, exchanging contacts with Johnny.  

Kerry didn’t linger, whisking the trio away again, leaving a stunned Denny behind. If she hadn’t added Johnny’s contact, she might’ve thought she was having an episode. No way she missed him that much, right?  

Next up was Nancy—or rather, Bess Isis, the N54 News journalist.  

Nancy was the normal one in Samurai, arguably the only rational member. She handled the band’s logistics, scheduling, and operations, all while rocking the keyboard. She was the linchpin, the one who kept things running. When she got into trouble, the band couldn’t function and even disbanded temporarily. Samurai just didn’t work without her.  

Her trouble? A drug-addicted, abusive scumbag husband who hounded her relentlessly. As Samurai gained fame, he got worse. Eventually, Nancy snapped, and her husband “fell” from the 80th floor. She did seven months in prison.  

The truth? Nobody knows. But Johnny and the band knew Nancy had a past in the underworld. That’s how she managed Samurai so smoothly, dodging all sorts of trouble. Whether her husband’s death tied back to that? Who’s to say.  

Point is, none of Samurai’s five members were normal—not even the seemingly sane one.  

Nancy’s current gig saidics spoke volumes. Surviving as a frontline journalist in Night City for over fifty years without a scratch? That took serious skill. Journalism in Night City was one of the deadliest jobs, especially for bold, principled reporters. Without some serious chops, you’d get taken out by both criminals and corpos. Plenty of well-known journalists had died mysteriously.  

“Bess Isis is Nancy?” 

V and Jack were shocked when they learned this. Denny’s past wasn’t surprising—she was a well-known TV host who didn’t hide her band days. But Nancy? As a journalist, she was famous but kept her past under wraps. V and Jack barely remembered bylines, let alone her backstory.  

Soon, the group met Nancy, thanks to Jack’s booming voice. This time, they appeared right in her home—Kerry had scoped out the spot. He was really invested in this Samurai reunion.  

Nancy was floored when she saw Johnny Silverhand. She clearly hadn’t expected him to be alive.  

After a lengthy explanation—and Johnny proving he was really himself—Nancy believed him.  

“No problem, I’m in. You can’t do this without me.” 

Nancy had no reason to refuse the concert invite. She was game, though she’d take some precautions to keep her identity under wraps.  

Chapter 292: Tide of Attention 

The so-called "universal referendum" was, as expected, just a formality. Once "Dogtown" was flattened in a single sweep under the overwhelming force of the military, Night City’s referendum was effectively over. At this point, the major corporations had more or less negotiated their terms with "New America." They wouldn’t stir up trouble or block Night City’s reintegration. 

In truth, these corporations were the real headache for "New America" when it came to reclaiming Night City. 

As an independent city, Night City had long been coveted by various corporations. The previous overseer, Arasaka, had welcomed all investments with open arms. After all, they themselves were outsiders. The more foreign corporations set up shop, the stronger their grip became, bolstering their resistance against "New America." 

But this time, with Arasaka, the "big brother," suddenly pulling out, the other corporations were caught off guard, forced to face "New America’s" military might head-on. The situation was too abrupt, and they were utterly unprepared. 

At this moment, fighting to the death to protect Night City’s independence was out of the question. Their only option was to secure their own interests. As long as "New America" guaranteed their profits, they’d back Night City’s return. 

Rosalind Myers, who was storming Night City’s gates for the second time, was well-prepared for this scenario. Her priority was unification, and everything else would follow. For now, the corporations’ interests were secured—at least Rosalind Myers promised not to seize their assets. Further cooperation? That would be discussed later. 

With the corporations on board and the only real enemy, "Dogtown," wiped out, everything went smoothly. "New America’s" forces officially entered Night City, taking control of a metropolis that had been independent for years. 

The situation in Northern California was similar. After striking deals with local corporations, "New America" moved in peacefully. With the corporations standing down, Northern California’s government couldn’t hold out and had no way to cause trouble for "New America." 

Once "New America" took over Night City and Northern California, the first order of business was to install their own people in key positions. 

The previous leadership, who had championed independence, naturally wouldn’t meet a pleasant fate. While "New America" couldn’t outright eliminate them in a peaceful takeover, that didn’t mean they couldn’t touch them at all. 

Soon enough, Night City’s former mayor, Lucius Rhyne, was under investigation. A barrage of charges—bribery, murder, selling out the city’s interests for personal gain, and passing laws favoring corporations—came crashing down on him. Not all of them were baseless, either. 

With this evidence, convicting Lucius Rhyne was a breeze. A death sentence was handed down, one that would be broadcast live across America. 

Punishment Capital Ltd. took on the execution contract. Publicly broadcast executions were nothing new—they were a mature industry, complete with TV raffles and flashy gimmicks. 

Lucius Rhyne, once a symbol of freedom and an independence hero, became a pariah overnight. His reputation flipped in an instant, and he was now despised by all. 

Back in early 2070, during the last "Unification War," "New America’s" forces had reached Night City’s gates. Lucius Rhyne, leveraging his connections, called in Arasaka to repel "New America," preserving Night City’s independence. Later, he successfully ran for mayor. 

As mayor, Lucius Rhyne capitalized on Night City’s new status as an "international free city," attracting massive investments and sparking a new wave of prosperity. But this prosperity wasn’t for everyone. The corporations didn’t come to Night City to benefit its people—they wanted a foothold in North America. 

And Lucius Rhyne, as mayor, had no interest in protecting the rights or interests of Night City’s citizens. His only goal was to line his own pockets, selling out the city’s interests for corporate bribes and quietly eliminating anyone who opposed him. 

So, when Lucius Rhyne was finally brought down, many felt it was long overdue. Justice had arrived, albeit a bit late. 

During his tenure, plenty of whistleblowers had accused City Hall of corruption and betraying the city’s interests, but most were silenced. Now, with Lucius Rhyne facing his reckoning, people took to the streets to celebrate, eager to tune into his execution livestream and maybe even win a raffle prize for double the satisfaction. 

At this point, some started to think that returning to "New America" might not be so bad after all. 

“Didn’t expect Lucius Rhyne to become the key to breaking down Night City’s walls,” someone remarked. 

At Afterlife, the group was still planning their concert, but naturally, the conversation drifted to Night City’s recent upheaval. The downfall of Mayor Lucius Rhyne and his cronies was the biggest news around. 

Another bombshell was that the invaders holed up in "Dogtown" were also set to be executed. 

Kurt Hansen and some of his top lieutenants from Barghest had been captured. Rosalind Myers had no intention of sparing them, and they were all sentenced to death. 

Unfortunately for them, in Night City, this news paled in comparison to Lucius Rhyne’s scandal. Kurt Hansen, who had desperately tried to claw his way into high society, didn’t even make waves with his execution. He lost out to Lucius Rhyne in the spotlight. 

“Good riddance to Lucius Rhyne. Never liked that guy,” Jack Welles said. As a Heywood native, he had every reason to feel that way. Heywood had always been targeted by the government, especially since the new City Hall was built there. Lucius Rhyne had taken office in Heywood, constantly trying to "cleanse" the area and sell it off for profit. 

The Valentinos, rallying the Latino community, had fought back tirelessly, clashing with City Hall and corporate dogs to protect Heywood from their ambitions. 

“No guarantee the next guy will be any better,” V quipped. One corrupt official replaced another—same old story. 

“The root of it all is the corporations. Doesn’t matter who’s in charge,” Johnny Silverhand chimed in. The corporations were the real problem. Any mayor who didn’t play ball would end up like Mr. Night, the city’s founder, who was killed for standing in their way. 

“Maybe ‘New America’ will do things differently?” Sasha offered. She wasn’t exactly sold on "New America" or close with Rosalind Myers, but she trusted Kerry. He’d said "New America" was planning reforms, and Rosalind Myers would bring something new to the table. 

“Who can say for sure?” The topic fizzled out. It was Kerry’s opinion, and no one wanted to challenge it outright, but old habits die hard—most didn’t believe much would change. 

The conversation shifted back to the concert. With the war over, it was time to seize the spotlight again. Night City hadn’t been damaged, but it had "lost" the war. Morale was low, and someone needed to step up to lift the city’s spirits and shake off the gloom. 

“We can start promoting now, but the concert’s gotta avoid clashing with Lucius Rhyne’s execution livestream,” Kerry said, sipping his coffee. No matter how you sliced it, Lucius Rhyne was Night City’s mayor, once hailed as an "independence hero" and "symbol of freedom." 

His execution livestream was bound to draw a massive audience, with companies scrambling to secure the broadcasting rights for a hefty sum. The hype was intense, and it’d be tough to compete for attention. 

“Finally, we can get this show on the road!” everyone cheered. Samurai had no shortage of cash, fame, or connections. With a top-tier celebrity like Kerry Eurodyne, TV hosts, reporters, and the massive draw of Johnny Silverhand, hyping up the event was a piece of cake. 

As the group brainstormed and networked, Henry stood awkwardly to the side. In Samurai, he was the odd one out, with little to contribute. 

Denny glanced at him but didn’t bother engaging. After confirming her tasks, she left. 

Once the meeting wrapped up, everyone scattered to handle their own business. Truth be told, Johnny Silverhand didn’t have much to do either. 

Until the concert, he’d stay out of the spotlight, serving as the ultimate hype card to keep the buzz alive. 

Kerry Eurodyne, Denny, and Nancy would announce Johnny Silverhand’s return, proclaiming that Samurai was reuniting and dropping the bombshell that Johnny was still alive. 

This move was guaranteed to max out the hype, pulling in crowds eager for the show. Even non-fans would be curious about Johnny Silverhand’s "comeback"—or rather, his "resurrection." His name carried more weight than Samurai itself, etched into Night City’s history with the infamous "nuke incident." 

Sure enough, as Samurai’s members spread the word, “Johnny Silverhand’s resurrection” became an instant viral topic, shocking all of Night City. 

This was Johnny Silverhand, gone for over fifty years, now suddenly announcing his comeback? At a time when Night City was under "New America’s" control, the return of an anti-corporate hero like Johnny was a bombshell in itself, especially given his controversial legacy as a rebellious rockerboy. 

“*Johnny, lead us to charge once more!*” became a trending rallying cry, even catching the attention of "New America’s" officials, showing just how massive the hype was. 

“We won’t interfere. We’ll send people to maintain order,” President Rosalind Myers, still in Night City, personally assured. The concert would go on as planned. 

This satisfied Night City’s residents, but only to an extent. Their resentment toward "New America" was palpable—after all, "New America" had abandoned them after the nuke, and Night City’s resurgence owed nothing to them. 

Rosalind Myers understood this, so her approach was gentle, aiming to shift Night City’s attitude and reduce resistance. Taking down the corrupt, hypocritical former mayor, who’d been cloaked in titles like "independence hero" and "symbol of freedom," was a strategic move. It not only delivered justice but also chipped away at the city’s independent streak. 

Soon, Lucius Rhyne’s execution livestream aired, shattering viewership records. Punishment Capital Ltd. raked in massive profits. 

With the execution over, the upcoming Samurai concert became the city’s sole obsession. Just as Jack and V had predicted, pre-sale tickets sold out like crazy. 

It wasn’t just tickets—venues were bidding sky-high prices to host the event. Before it even started, Samurai was swimming in cash, far beyond their expectations. 

“This is freaking insane!” Jack Welles exclaimed. He hadn’t anticipated this level of frenzy. The impact was far bigger than they’d imagined, driven by a perfect storm of factors. 

“This kind of hype won’t last forever. People are just curious,” Kerry noted, slightly surprised. Neither Johnny Silverhand nor Samurai had this kind of influence on their own, not even with Kerry Eurodyne, the “god of rock” and “American idol.” This was a true phenomenon. 

“The buzz should hold for a while. Nancy’s already planning to add more shows—tickets for the later ones are sold out too,” V said. Why pass up easy money? With this kind of hype, they’d be fools not to milk it. Denny and Nancy, who had their own careers, felt the same. A few concerts could set them up for life. 

“No surprise there. Who could resist all this free money?” Kerry shrugged. Even a megastar like Kerry Eurodyne couldn’t resist the tidal wave of attention. Maybe Samurai could reunite the original lineup for a bit longer after all. 

Chapter 293: Rock Never Dies 

The concert went off without a hitch, just as planned. The members of the Bushido Band, who hadn’t played together in over fifty years, had been grinding through rehearsals these past few days. They were starting to get their groove back. Sure, they weren’t at their peak anymore, but they were more than ready to rock a single show. 

“Honestly, this might be the most prepared we’ve ever been for a concert,” Johnny Silverhand quipped before they took the stage. It was half a joke, but it was also the truth. 

Back in the day, when they were jamming as a band, rehearsals were basically nonexistent. They thrived on raw, unpolished energy—pure, unfiltered chaos. Their shows were a mess of technical hiccups, driving their manager Nancy up the wall with stress. 

Kerry Eurodyne, Nancy, Denny, and Henry all cracked up at Johnny’s comment, the laughter easing some of the pre-show jitters. Their minds drifted back to their youth—wild, fearless, and brimming with talent. Back then, they didn’t know the meaning of hesitation. They were reckless, believing their instruments could conquer this messed-up world. 

“Let’s do this! Let’s conquer the world again!” Johnny Silverhand thrust out his hand and let out a roaring shout. Kerry, Nancy, Denny, and Henry stacked their hands on his, shouting in unison before charging onto the stage. 

“Let’s give a warm welcome to the stars of the night—Bushido!”  

The stage was set, instruments in place. At the center stood the concert’s host, a sturdy Latino guy—none other than Jack Welles. He’d volunteered to emcee, and boy, was he in his element. Facing a sea of fans that seemed to stretch forever, Jack didn’t flinch. Mic in hand, he bantered with the crowd, hyping them up like a pro. This guy was a social juggernaut. 

With Jack’s rallying cry, the audience’s energy hit fever pitch, erupting into a tsunami of cheers. 

“Bushido! Bushido! Bushido!”  

The decibels were unreal, shaking not just the venue but probably all of Night City.  

As Johnny Silverhand led his bandmates to the stage’s center, grabbing their instruments, the crowd’s screams shattered the heavens. 

“Johnny! Johnny! Johnny!”  

The big screens zoomed in on Johnny Silverhand, the ultimate rock rebel, sparking another wave of frenzied cheers. 

Johnny gripped the mic, standing front and center with Kerry Eurodyne as co-lead vocalist, his guitar slung over his shoulder.  

“Rock never dies!”  

His gravelly voice roared, igniting the concert’s atmosphere with a single line.  

“Ohhh yeahhh!”  

The fans lost it, screaming their lungs out as the music kicked in. The sound system was top-notch, ensuring every note reached even the nosebleed seats. This show was all about giving the fans their money’s worth. 

“Man, this is insane,” V muttered backstage, jaw dropping. You had to be there to feel the sheer intensity of the crowd. Talking backstage meant yelling over the noise. 

“Why aren’t you out there doing something?” Riku leaned against the wall, glancing at V. Jack Welles had snagged himself a prime role, stealing the spotlight. 

“No need,” V said, a bit defensively. Truth was, she hadn’t found a way to jump into the action. Unlike Jack, who could effortlessly work a crowd, she didn’t know where she’d fit in. 

“That’s why they say opportunity’s for those who’re ready,” Jack teased, joining them after stepping off stage, clearly pleased with his performance. 

“Ugh!” V flipped him off, not hiding her annoyance, but Jack just grinned, unfazed. 

“Hey, if you really wanna get out there, you could join them on stage later. Pretend you’re a special guest or something,” Riku suggested with a smirk.  

V rolled her eyes. A special guest? Doing what? Showing off her sharpshooting skills? 

“How about this: we pick a ‘lucky audience member’ at random,” Jack chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “Hand V a prop gun, let her ‘shoot’ someone in the crowd, and the ‘hit’ fan gets a special prize.” 

V facepalmed. “No way I’m doing that. That’s way too embarrassing.” Besides, what was the point of that kind of spotlight? 

Jack shrugged. “Alright, I’m out of ideas then.” The concert’s schedule was pretty straightforward, with no extra slots for random stunts. 

“Exactly. I’m good,” V said, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

“Fair enough,” Jack nodded. He didn’t push further. His own stage time was limited anyway—just filling in during breaks or costume changes to keep the crowd hyped with his smooth-talking skills. 

The Bushido Band had a solid catalog of group songs, but Johnny Silverhand and Kerry Eurodyne also had their solo hits. Kerry, in particular, had a bigger discography—fifty years more in the game than Johnny gave him plenty of material. The concert wasn’t rigid; they mixed in their solo tracks alongside the band’s classics. 

The show went smoothly, wrapping up after a few hours to thunderous applause. For Bushido, this was hands-down their most successful concert ever—both in scale and execution. 

“Hell yeah, that was awesome!” Henry was bouncing off the walls backstage, living his dream. This was the life he’d missed—the rush of the stage, drowning out even the pain of his rehab struggles. 

“Phew, that was intense,” Denny panted, exhausted. As the drummer, she’d had the toughest job. She wasn’t in the music biz anymore, working as a TV anchor, so this level of performance was a lot. 

“Didn’t expect the fans to be this wild,” Nancy mused. As a media pro, she knew this frenzy wasn’t just about Bushido’s fame—it was a perfect storm of hype and nostalgia. 

Of the five, only Kerry Eurodyne and Johnny Silverhand weren’t wiped out. Kerry was used to this; as the reigning “King of Rock,” he still played shows regularly. Johnny? He was just built different. 

“The news is blowing up. Johnny, your comeback’s a total win,” Kerry said, scrolling through headlines. His feelings were mixed. The top story? “Rock Never Dies!” with a shot of Johnny raising his arm in a defiant roar. Kerry? Just a background figure.  

Was he still doomed to play second fiddle to Johnny? No way. He’d spent fifty years building his legacy. He was the King of Rock, and Johnny was the challenger now. Kerry steeled himself—he wasn’t afraid of the competition. 

“This feels good,” Johnny said with a grin, soaking in the spotlight and the headlines. 

“Let’s celebrate! My treat!” Henry shouted. He wasn’t broke anymore—the concert had already raked in a fortune, and all five band members got a hefty cut. 

“Afterlife, let’s go!” Jack jumped in. The victory party had to be at a classy spot, and Afterlife was perfect—they’d book the whole place. 

“Afterlife?” Henry hesitated. It wasn’t wild enough for him. “Why not Cloudtop or Empathy? Those spots are where the real fun’s at!” 

Henry’s suggestion got Johnny’s attention. Drinking was fine, but why not go for something with more edge? 

“Henry, we’re just getting started,” Kerry said, shooting Johnny a look. Those two were cut from the same cloth. 

“Pfft, hopeless,” Denny scoffed, not holding back. Did anyone really think Henry—or Johnny—had changed their ways? 

“Hey, don’t be like that! Can’t we have a little fun after all that work?” Henry frowned, ignoring Kerry and turning to Denny, ready to argue. 

“Alright, alright, cool it,” Jack stepped in, pulling Henry away before things escalated. He was the peacemaker, already chummy with the Bushido crew. 

“Jack’s got skills. He fits in anywhere,” Riku said to V, watching Jack work his magic. The guy blended in like he was part of the band. 

“Maybe he’ll end up their manager,” V said with a laugh. She and Riku were used to Jack’s social wizardry. The guy was never short on friends. 

“Not a bad idea,” Riku nodded. Jack’s moral compass was solid, and in a world like this, that was rare. He’d be a better influence than letting Bushido run wild. 

“Come on, Riku, V, let’s hit Afterlife!” Jack called over, having smoothed things out with the band. 

“You in?” V asked, tilting her head at Riku. 

“Nah, I’m out. Gotta head out for a bit,” Riku said, waving them off. With Arasaka Lai Xuan and Rosalind Myers’ plans wrapped up, the opposition cleared, and Bushido’s successful reunion show in the books, his work here was done. The rest was up to Lai Xuan and Myers. 

“What? Just like that?” Jack looked surprised. “Come celebrate with us!” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Riku said, sticking to coffee anyway. 

Seeing Riku’s firm refusal, Jack didn’t push. They all knew Riku’s deal. 

“Stay safe,” V said, patting Riku’s arm. Every time he came back, he was… different. Stronger. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it was clearly dangerous. Riku carried too much on his own. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not dying anytime soon,” Riku said with a grin. Shadows swirled at his feet, and he vanished. 

V sighed, her expression heavy. 

“Let’s go, time to drink at Afterlife!” Jack said, shaking his head but not dwelling on it. He rallied everyone to head out. 

Before leaving, Riku swung by to tell his other friends he’d be gone for a while. At Sasha’s apartment, he handed her three contacts: Arasaka Michiko, Arasaka Lai Xuan, and Rosalind Myers. He’d given the same to V and Jack. “If anything goes south, call them.” 

“Got it. Come back safe,” Sasha said, lips tight. She trusted Riku, no questions asked. 

“Need help?” Lucy offered, already knowing the answer. 

“I’ve got this,” Riku said, as expected. This time, he was heading to a new world, and he couldn’t predict its dangers. 

After a brief chat, Riku vanished again, leaving the room. 

Lucy and Sasha sat in silence. Riku always disappeared like this, coming back stronger each time. They’d figured out the pattern, but it didn’t make it easier. Whatever he was facing, it was dangerous, and they couldn’t help—not when they didn’t even know where he went or how. 

Chapter 294: Your Teigu Is Great, But It’ll Soon Be Mine 

[Traversal Complete] 

[Current World: Akame ga Kill!] 

The world unveiled itself before Riku, revealing a sprawling, luxurious mansion that stretched across a vast plot of land. 

“So, it’s this world, huh?”  

Riku glanced around, his expression relaxed. This world wasn’t particularly threatening. It lacked dou qi or magic—at least for humans.  

Here, monsters known as Danger Beasts roamed, alongside creatures like dragons and magical beasts, each wielding a variety of powerful abilities.  

Humans, on the other hand, weren’t without their own strengths, though the gap between individuals was massive. The strongest could take on colossal Danger Beasts with their bare hands, but such warriors were exceedingly rare. 

For humans to wield “magical” power, they relied on special tools—weapons called Teigu. 

Teigu were forged from the materials of Super-Class Danger Beasts, combined with rare metals like Orichalcum, crafted by the world’s finest artisans using long-lost secret techniques. They were the pinnacle of human craftsmanship. The materials from Super-Class Danger Beasts granted Teigu extraordinary abilities, often surpassing those of the beasts themselves, while the rare metals ensured their durability, making them nearly indestructible by ordinary means. These forty-eight Teigu were humanity’s ultimate weapons, each with unique powers. 

“Your Teigu are impressive, but they’ll soon be mine,” Riku said with a smirk. Since he was here, he’d collect them all. Many Teigu had abilities so wild that even someone like him couldn’t help but covet them. Some could turn their wielders into walking weapons of mass destruction, capable of taking on thousands. 

“This must be the Imperial Capital, right?” 

Shrouded in shadows, Riku slipped into the mansion. The place was brightly lit, with servants bustling about. 

With a quick scan, he made his way to the reception hall, where the mansion’s owner was entertaining guests. 

The guests were a young man and woman, both around fourteen or fifteen, dressed in plain clothes that screamed “country bumpkin.” They stood out starkly against the refined air of the mansion’s owner. 

“Thank you so much for your invitation, Miss Aria,” the girl said. “We just arrived and don’t have any money. We thought we’d be sleeping on the streets tonight.” 

The girl, with long black hair and a spirited demeanor, spoke with gratitude. 

“No need to thank me, Sayo,” the blonde girl across from them replied. “You and Ieyasu are brave enough to enlist. Honestly, I’m a bit jealous. I can barely take care of myself, let alone join the military.” 

The blonde, dressed in an elegant Lolita-style outfit, was clearly the wealthy daughter of the house—Aria.  

Hidden in the shadows of a corner, Riku observed the scene, piecing things together. 

The boy and girl were obviously Tatsumi’s childhood friends from his village. The girl was Sayo, Tatsumi’s childhood sweetheart, and the boy was Ieyasu, his lifelong buddy.  

As for Aria, the wealthy heiress of this mansion, she was no saint. Beneath her cute exterior lurked a sadistic monster who lured in naive outsiders to torture them for fun. 

This confirmed it—Riku was in the Imperial Capital, and the timeline was right at the start of the main plot. Tatsumi had likely gotten separated from Sayo and Ieyasu and hadn’t yet reached the capital. 

“Miss, the meal is ready,” a servant announced, interrupting Riku’s thoughts. They’d been preparing an extravagant feast. 

“Great. Sayo, Ieyasu, come with me,” Aria said with a polished smile, leading the two unsuspecting teens along like lambs to the slaughter. 

In the dining room, two others were already seated: a portly, affluent middle-aged merchant and a kind-looking noblewoman—Aria’s parents.  

Aria interacted warmly with her parents, a sight that made Sayo and Ieyasu envious. They were about the same age, yet they were already out here, struggling to improve their impoverished village’s fortunes. 

Still, they harbored no resentment. They’d come to the Imperial Capital willingly, hoping to enlist and make something of themselves to change their village’s fate. 

As they sat at the table, their seats clearly prearranged, Sayo and Ieyasu began eating. Within moments, they grew dizzy. The food was poisoned. Naive and trusting, they hadn’t suspected a thing. 

The city’s tricks ran deep. As they slipped into unconsciousness, they caught Aria’s expression shift to one of cruel, manic glee. 

“Two new toys,” Aria sneered, dropping her act. She ordered the servants to carry them away, eager to begin her twisted games. 

Her parents watched calmly, unfazed. This was routine for them. Their daughter could play as she pleased—what were a couple of country nobodies? No one would care if they disappeared. 

Aria had the servants drag Sayo and Ieyasu to a warehouse. From the outside, it looked ordinary, but inside, it was a torture chamber designed for Aria’s sick hobbies. 

Under her orders, the servants strung up Sayo and Ieyasu and began splashing water on them. Torture was no fun if the victims weren’t awake. 

“What did you do to us, you bastard?!” Ieyasu roared, finally breaking his silence as he was splashed awake. He thrashed against his restraints, furious. 

But Aria was a pro at this. She’d done it countless times, and her equipment was top-notch. There was no way Ieyasu could break free. 

“You two country bumpkins should feel honored to be chosen by me,” Aria taunted. “Enjoy it. Let’s start with you, Sayo. A filthy peasant like you dares to have hair smoother than mine? How dare you?!” 

Aria had little interest in Ieyasu. Her real target was Sayo, whose lustrous hair had sparked her jealous rage. 

Sayo and Ieyasu exchanged stunned glances, baffled by Aria’s bizarre reasoning. They’d considered many possibilities, but this petty jealousy was beyond comprehension. 

“I’m going to pluck out every single strand of your hair!” Aria declared, her fangs bared as she closed in on Sayo. 

“Don’t touch her! Come at me instead!” Ieyasu shouted, struggling harder and hurling insults at Aria. But his simple, honest words lacked the bite to provoke her. 

“You’re next,” Aria sneered, reaching for Sayo’s hair. 

Sayo gritted her teeth, refusing to beg. She was tough, not the type to grovel. Alongside Tatsumi and Ieyasu, she’d trained under a retired military instructor, learning to hunt Danger Beasts. That was their confidence for venturing out into the world. 

Yet, they hadn’t fallen to Danger Beasts or bandits. Instead, they’d been undone by the treachery of human hearts. 

“Man, this is hard to watch,” Riku’s voice cut through the dimly lit torture chamber. Emerging from the shadows, black mist swirled around him. Several shadow wolves lunged forward, pinning a stunned Aria to the ground. 

Thud! 

The wolves circled Aria, as if deciding where to bite first. The other servants didn’t fare so well—each was swiftly taken down, their throats torn out in a single snap. 

“Who are you?!” Aria screamed, terror flooding her mind. She could barely think. This guy was a Teigu user! 

In this world, humans had no magic or dou qi. It was a mundane world, with only slightly enhanced physical capabilities. Seeing Riku’s powers, Aria immediately pegged him as a Teigu user. 

“Don’t kill me! My family’s rich! Name your price, and we’ll pay!” Aria pleaded. Money was her only leverage. As the spoiled daughter of a top merchant in the Imperial Capital, her family would spare no expense to save her. 

“Pfft, silly girl. Money? Once I kill you, it’s all mine anyway,” Riku chuckled, shaking his head. In Aria’s horrified gaze, he gave the order. The wolves tore into the malicious heiress, her screams echoing through the warehouse. 

“Serves her right!” Ieyasu exclaimed, watching from where he was strung up. He wished he could take a bite himself. 

Aria was despicable, luring and torturing them like this. Ieyasu was no saint—faced with such evil, he wanted her gone. 

“Sir, please save us!” he called out, snapping back to their predicament. This guy wasn’t in cahoots with Aria and hadn’t been swayed by her money. He must be a man of justice, right? 

“Sir, please help us. We’re so grateful,” Sayo added. She’d been ready to face death rather than bow to evil, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask for help when it was available. Living was always better. 

With a wave of Riku’s hand, the ropes binding them were severed. Sayo and Ieyasu fell but adjusted mid-air, landing with practiced ease, showcasing their solid training. 

“Sir, what do we do now? You saved us, so we’ll follow your lead!” Ieyasu said as they approached Riku. The two teens were full of loyalty, eager to repay their savior. 

“Obviously, we wipe out everyone here. Rid the world of scum,” Riku said matter-of-factly. His shadow wolves scattered, hunting through the mansion, leaving no one alive. 

Sayo and Ieyasu exchanged a glance. They were young and hesitated at the idea of such slaughter. 

“Seen the darkness of the Imperial Capital yet?” Riku said, looking at them. “This is just another day here. There’s far worse out there. If you don’t want to die without knowing why, you either adapt or get stronger. Only the strong survive the darkness.” 

Ieyasu cautiously spoke up. “Sir, can we follow you?” 

This guy was terrifyingly powerful and a Teigu user—a real big shot to latch onto. 

“You don’t even know who I am, and you want to follow me?” Riku laughed, sensing their misunderstanding. 

“Uh… are you with the Imperial Guard?” Sayo and Ieyasu asked, confused. In their minds, someone who killed so freely and ignored imperial law had to be some high-ranking official, right? 

“Why can’t I just be a random passerby?” Riku shook his head, amused. He knew they’d gotten the wrong idea, but he wasn’t some imperial bigwig. 

Sayo and Ieyasu exchanged another look, swallowing hard. A lawless vigilante? Then they couldn’t follow him. They carried the hopes of their village and couldn’t risk bringing trouble by running with someone like that. 

“Still, thank you so much for saving us,” they said earnestly, bowing deeply. They had a mission to improve their village’s fortunes and couldn’t afford to get tangled up with a renegade like Riku. 

“Alarms are going off. The Imperial Guard will be here soon. You two should get out of here,” Riku said, waving them off. He didn’t care much for their gratitude. The mansion’s alarms were blaring, and the Imperial Guard would arrive quickly for a wealthy merchant’s case. Who didn’t love some extra cash? 

“Come with us, sir!” Sayo and Ieyasu didn’t flee immediately. Riku had saved them, and they couldn’t just abandon him. 

Chapter 295: Reclaiming the First Teigu 

Riku turned his gaze to Sayo and Ieyasu. 

“You’ve got good intentions, but you’re going about it all wrong. If you really want to help me, the best thing you two can do is get out of here. Don’t hold me back or make me split my focus to protect you.” 

No sugarcoating, no mercy. Riku was blunt. In this world, knowing your limits was survival 101. Overestimate yourself, and you’d be dead in a flash. Still, he had to admit, he respected the kids’ moral compass. You didn’t come across pure-hearted types like them every day. 

“…” 

Sayo and Ieyasu’s faces flushed red. Ieyasu opened his mouth, wanting to argue that they weren’t that weak, but one look at Riku’s aura shut him up. Compared to a Teigu user, they didn’t stand a chance. 

“Go on, get moving,” Riku said, waving them off. Shadows swirled around him, and his figure vanished before their eyes. 

“So… we’re leaving?” Ieyasu asked, turning to Sayo. Riku had laid it out plain—they’d only be a burden if they stayed. 

“Yeah, let’s go find that idiot Tazmi. He’s probably close to the Imperial Capital by now, right?” Sayo didn’t hesitate. Riku hadn’t even left a name or hint of who he was, but his face was burned into her memory. She’d never forget the guy who saved their lives. Someday, she’d repay him. 

Forgetting Riku’s face would be tough anyway. He was the kind of guy who stood out in a crowd—Sayo and Ieyasu were sure they’d recognize him if they ever crossed paths again. 

As the two kids left, Riku was already inside the mansion. The place was a slaughterhouse—bodies littered the floor. His shadow wolves had made quick work of the corrupt merchant and his complicit servants. Not a single soul remained alive. 

Soon, footsteps echoed outside. A squad of Imperial Capital guards, dressed in black-and-white uniforms, surrounded the eerily silent mansion. Their weapons were a chaotic mix—some held firearms, others clutched swords or spears, reflecting the world’s bizarre blend of medieval European architecture and mismatched technology. 

Leading the pack was the guard captain, Oka, known as the “Demon of the Capital.” A hulking, intimidating figure, his face screamed authority. At his side was his prized subordinate and disciple, Seryu Ubiquitas, a Teigu user. 

Seryu looked deceptively cute, with orange hair tied in a long ponytail swaying behind her. She seemed soft, almost delicate—until you saw her in action. 

“Smells like blood. A lot of it,” Oka said, sniffing the air. The thick, metallic scent was unmistakable. It meant the perpetrator was ruthless, but instead of fear, greed glinted in Oka’s eyes. If the merchant’s entire household was wiped out, their wealth would be ripe for “confiscation.” 

Oka was a tyrant in the Capital, feared by criminals but no saint himself. He was in cahoots with the city’s shady oil tycoon, Jamal, raking in dirty money through abuse of power and framing innocents. Justice? He couldn’t care less. Power and wealth were his gods. 

“Master! Are we going in?!” Seryu shouted, her face twisting with excitement, a manic edge creeping into her expression. 

“Yeah, it’s our time to shine,” Oka replied, calculating. He figured the culprit had probably already fled. The merchant’s guards were well-equipped and no pushovers, yet they’d been massacred. Whoever did this was dangerous—best to avoid a fight if possible. 

Oka had deliberately dragged his feet getting here. He had to make a show of responding—after all, the merchant had paid him plenty to look the other way—but what happened after he arrived was his call. 

The guards stormed the estate, entering the mansion. The stench of blood hit them like a wall, and the sight of mangled corpses made their stomachs churn. 

“This doesn’t look like human work,” Oka said, his experience as captain kicking in. The wounds weren’t clean—more like the tearing bites of some beast. 

“A Danger Beast?” Seryu’s eyes lit up, clutching a small, toy-like white dog in her arms—her Teigu. She was itching to take on a Danger Beast. 

“Hard to say,” Oka replied, suddenly wary. If it was a Danger Beast, it might still be lurking. 

“Found him!” a guard shouted. Oka and Seryu rushed toward the voice. 

In the mansion’s grand parlor, they spotted their target: a handsome young man in a white trench coat, lounging casually with his legs crossed, sipping coffee like he owned the place. 

“Damn it, it’s a person,” Oka spat, annoyed. If it was a human, why hadn’t they fled after the massacre? Were they looking for trouble? 

“Greetings. Allow me to introduce myself—you can call me Devil,” Riku said, setting down his coffee and standing. He gave a polite bow, one hand over his chest. 

“…” 

The guy oozed elegance, like some noble. If you didn’t know better, you might mistake him for the mansion’s lord. But the blood-soaked floors and scattered body parts made it crystal clear: this was the intruder. 

Oka knew the twisted merchant who lived here—a whole family of creeps who’d paid him well to ignore their crimes. This guy? Definitely not one of them. 

“Surrender now,” Oka said, voice steady but tense. The man looked unarmed, almost harmless, but that only made Oka more nervous. The lack of a visible weapon often meant one thing: a Teigu. 

Most Teigu took the form of weapons—swords, guns, spears, even scissors—but some were different. Armors like Incursio or Grand Chariot, or biological Teigu like the “dog” in Seryu’s arms. Others could be rings, flutes, wires, or even cosmetics. Who knew what this guy was hiding? 

“Surrender? How about you surrender?” Riku smirked, his eyes not on Oka but on the “dog” in Seryu’s arms—Teigu: Beast Transformation - Hundred-Armed Giant. It looked like a plush toy, but its combat prowess was no joke. 

Whoosh! 

Several massive shadow wolves leaped from the darkness, lunging at the guards. The soldiers froze in shock. 

“He’s a Teigu user!” Oka’s heart sank. He knew how terrifying they could be—just look at his disciple, Seryu. 

“Seryu, go!” Oka barked, not hesitating. He’d been humoring Seryu’s quirky antics for moments like this. 

“Yes, Master!” Seryu’s face lit up with manic glee as she sprang forward, tossing her small dog Teigu into the air. 

“Go, Koro!” 

Koro was her nickname for Hundred-Armed Giant. 

Boom! 

White smoke swirled, and a three-to-four-meter-tall white dog stood upright, snarling ferociously. The shadow wolves didn’t flinch, pouncing and tearing at it. Hundred-Armed Giant had a core—destroy it, and it was done for. Otherwise, it could regenerate from almost any injury, making it a formidable tank. 

Koro thrashed, trying to shake off the wolves. Its stubby limbs flailed, and while the bites didn’t do much damage, they clearly annoyed it. 

“Koro! Attack that man!” Seryu commanded, her face twisting with sadistic excitement. She was ready to crush this “enemy of justice.” 

“Justice will be served!” she roared as Koro leaped toward Riku, shadow wolves still clinging to it. In attack mode, Hundred-Armed Giant transformed into a hulking, muscular beast with a dog’s head, far from its earlier cute appearance. 

“Your Teigu’s no match for Koro!” Seryu taunted, already imagining Riku torn in half. 

Boom! 

Koro’s charge kicked up a cloud of dust, the impact shaking the room. 

“According to the ‘smoke but no damage’ rule, your attack’s a dud,” Riku’s voice cut through as the dust cleared. He stood unscathed, while Koro was bound tight, unable to move. Countless shadow chains wrapped around the beast, pinning its limbs. 

“Rrrgh!” Koro roared, struggling against the restraints, but Riku’s shadow chains were enhanced—unyielding and impossibly tough. 

“How?!” Seryu gasped, stunned. Someone had restrained Koro? Unthinkable! 

“Koro, go berserk!” She didn’t hold back, activating Hundred-Armed Giant’s trump card: Berserk Mode. It was a one-shot deal, requiring months to recharge, rendering the Teigu unusable in the meantime. 

“ROAR!” Koro’s body turned crimson, glowing like it was hopped up on steroids. Its strength and speed surged. Despite its name, Hundred-Armed Giant wasn’t about arms—it was a giant, built for raw power, likely crafted from melee-focused Danger Beasts. 

Crack! 

But before Koro could break free, a chilling aura enveloped it. Frost spread rapidly, encasing the beast in ice. The air grew frigid, the floor freezing over, leaving everyone wide-eyed. 

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” Oka stammered. The power to control ice—that belonged to her! And how could one person wield two Teigu? 

The shadows were clearly a Teigu’s power, and now ice? No human could handle two Teigu at once.  

Using a Teigu had strict rules. First, compatibility—your “wavelength” had to match. It was like love at first sight; if the Teigu rejected you, it either wouldn’t work or could harm you. That’s why Teigu users were rare, and some Teigu went unused for years. 

Second, no one could wield multiple Teigu. Even one drained your stamina and mental energy. Two? You’d burn out and die. Most people could barely handle one. 

Crack! 

Before anyone could process it, Koro roared, shattering the ice. 

“Not bad,” Riku said, nodding approvingly, eyeing the Teigu like it was already his. Compatibility? Wavelengths? Didn’t matter to him. He treated every Teigu as his property—no rejection, no limits. If it didn’t vibe with him, he’d force it to. 

(Chapter End)