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Added 2025-07-29 14:49:09 +0000 UTCChapter 266: Born Great, Die Glorious
For Gloria, accepting Riku’s olive branch wasn’t a tough call. Sure, the sudden kindness and investment were overwhelming, but for her and David, they had nothing to lose—no coveted treasures for others to scheme over.
To put it bluntly, the monthly salaries alone could buy their lives a hundred times over.
So, regarding Riku’s generosity, Gloria had only one thought: David had to study hard! He had to grow into someone worthy of this opportunity!
For most people, even if they honed their skills, they’d likely burn out as expendable cogs before ever shining. That was the fate of the masses.
But David was different. He hadn’t even fully developed his talents yet, and he’d already secured positions where he could shine. This was the kind of (taigu) others could only dream of.
Gloria’s job was simple: push David to work his butt off so that, after graduation, he’d be worthy of these roles and not get kicked to the curb for letting people down.
Sure, Riku said he saw David’s potential, that David was destined for greatness. But Gloria didn’t believe in fate. If she did, she wouldn’t have busted her hump to put David through school. Her whole life was about defying fate for him.
Potential was just that—potential. If it didn’t materialize, it was worthless. Gloria didn’t think Riku would keep a deadweight around.
“David, did you hear me? You’re carrying a heavy load now. Don’t think you can slack off just because you’re pulling in big money each month. These gifts are bets on your future! If you can’t deliver for Devil-sama, things won’t end well for you!”
Gloria spoke earnestly to David as they rode back home, still in the car driven by the same burly guy who’d brought them. She didn’t bother lowering her voice.
There was no need to. Gloria was confident that her approach to raising David was exactly what Devil-sama would want—ensuring his investment wasn’t wasted.
Though they lived humbly with lowly origins, they weren’t the type to be blinded by short-term gains.
“I’m keeping all the money. No wasting it.”
Seeing David’s silence, Gloria huffed and added another rule, which finally got a reaction.
“Come on, leave me a little at least?!”
David grumbled. He didn’t outright refuse—he was a filial son and knew his mom meant well—but taking everything was too much. He had things he wanted to buy!
“I’ll cover your food, clothes, everything. What do you need money for?”
Gloria snorted. At David’s age, if she let him have that much cash in a place like Night City, who knows what kind of trouble he’d get into? The city was crawling with temptations.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust David—she knew he was better than most kids his age. But this was Night City, where temptations never slept.
Back when they were broke, David knew his limits and stayed out of trouble. Now with money? That was a different story.
“Fine, fine, I’ll work hard, okay?”
David rolled his eyes, tempted to call out his mom’s shogun-like control, but he wasn’t the type to argue for the sake of it. Besides, he didn’t need much money—just enough for snacks or drinks. His only real hobby was watching choomu (braindance), making him practically a model san-ko-nen (three-good teen) of the new era.
If he had to guess what Devil-sama saw in him, David was quietly confident in his “character.” His self-discipline was strong. Sure, being poor helped, but he never touched the stuff he shouldn’t. Not many his age could say the same.
“You two are lucky as hell. Grab this chance tight—it’s not something everyone gets. We’re jealous as all get-out.”
The two beefy guys in the front seats—one driving, one riding shotgun—were practically green with envy. After learning why Devil-sama summoned this mother-son duo, they were beside themselves. This wasn’t just a pie falling from the sky—it was a golden pie!
“Exactly, David, you hearing this?”
Gloria nodded along, genuinely worried David might get cocky. At his age, a life-changing event like this could easily mess with his head.
“…”
David’s expression soured. This was supposed to be good news, so why did it feel like the pressure was heavier than ever?
He had a sinking feeling that the next few years would be grueling. Devil-sama’s generous conditions had Gloria acting like she wanted to turn him into a juushin zennou (ten-talent prodigy) overnight to repay Devil-sama’s on (debt of gratitude).
Sure, he could complain, but David understood his mom’s reasoning. Truth be told, he was itching to start working himself. The money felt too hot to hold otherwise.
Their simple mindset only knew one way to repay such kindness: hard work.
But David wasn’t in a rush. During their private talk, Devil-sama had given him a special power.
That’s why he’d been distracted the whole ride, buzzing with excitement and the thrill of a dream come true.
Devil-sama was none other than Devo Collins! And the power David had always fantasized about? Devil-sama had granted it to him!
To David, that was the real jackpot of this trip—his dream fulfilled, plus the approval of his idol.
The private talk with Devil-sama was the core of the meeting. David was now a loyal follower, ready to give his all. It wasn’t about his life being in someone’s hands—he just wanted to earn a similar blessing for his mom.
For ordinary folks like them, having their lives controlled was par for the course. Corps didn’t see them as human—birth, life, death, everything was manipulated.
By comparison, Devil-sama was far more humane. He not only gave David power but also transformed his life with full sincerity and respect—something a corp would never offer.
Of course, David didn’t know that Riku was also getting something out of this deal—not just giving without gain.
[Name: David Martinez (Special Retainer)
Abilities: Regeneration, Light Weakness, Cannibalistic Tendencies
Special Trait: Born Great, Die Glorious
[Born Great, Die Glorious: When fighting evil organizations or oppressors, overall strength increases by 10%.]
Riku was thrilled with this trait. Its effect lived up to its grand name.
“Now he’s a true seigi no mikata (ally of justice).”
Riku grinned, satisfied. The generous (taigu) he gave David wasn’t just the money or jobs—it was the power. David Martinez was the first to receive the “50% daytime weakening” effect among Riku’s converted.
Previously, the best his converted got was losing abilities during the day, since Riku had only recently unlocked this power himself.
Unfortunately, the system didn’t allow one-click management. Powers had to be granted in person, so converts in other worlds would have to wait until he visited.
“Is that kid really that special?”
The old captain was still skeptical, unable to fathom why Riku was so giddy.
“Far more special and useful than you think.”
Riku shot him a glance, answering directly. He wondered if the captain had a trait too but couldn’t imagine what it’d be—“Car Thief”? Probably useless. He’d hold off on converting the captain for now. Though reliable, the captain’s role was limited, and Riku didn’t want to burn through his conversion quota. The captain might not even qualify for a trait.
“Fine, I don’t have your eye for talent.”
The captain shrugged, dropping the argument. He didn’t get it but respected it. As long as it didn’t mess with his business, he was fine.
Riku didn’t linger, leaving the captain’s turf. This trip’s haul was massive. As expected, targeting protagonists or key characters for “lottery pulls” yielded better results.
Still buzzing from snagging a great trait, Riku got more big news the next day: a heavyweight had arrived in Night City.
“After years away, Arasaka Yorinobu returns to Night City!”
“The true young master of the Arasaka family, the most legitimate heir to the Arasaka empire!”
“Unveiling Arasaka Yorinobu’s love life! Playboy or romantic?”
Night City was abuzz with reports about the Arasaka family’s sole male heir, the most legitimate successor. It was major news—Yorinobu’s sudden arrival caught everyone off guard, with no prior leaks. No one knew why he was here.
Yorinobu wasn’t a stranger to Night City, though he couldn’t compare to Arasaka Michiko. Compared to Arasaka Saburo, who hadn’t set foot in America in decades, or Arasaka Hanako, who barely left home, Yorinobu visited relatively often.
“Arasaka Yorinobu’s in Night City!”
“I know, I’m not blind or deaf.”
Riku replied dryly to Michiko’s message. The whole world knew—her heads-up was a bit late.
“Haha, sorry, I just saw the news.”
Michiko admitted it candidly. She was just as unprepared, unaware of Yorinobu’s plans.
That was normal. No one broadcasted their travel plans lightly—too many execs had been taken out in assassinations or zanpakuto-style hits. Corporate wars didn’t care for honor; a headshot was a headshot.
“Has he contacted you?”
Riku pressed on. Michiko and Yorinobu were allied, both aiming to oust Arasaka Saburo—or at least get him to step down. They’d already built trust last time.
Though they belonged to different factions within Arasaka, their desire to see Saburo gone was perfectly aligned.
“Of course. He’s way more impatient than me. If my grandfather’s plan succeeds, my dear uncle’s the one who’s dead meat. I’d just have to tuck my tail and behave. He knows I’m used to that, so he’s eager to keep me close.”
Michiko’s reply was breezy and confident, though it carried a bitter undertone. Every family has its struggles, and even someone as cunning as Michiko wasn’t free, crushed under Saburo’s mountain.
Arasaka’s return hit Michiko the hardest. She was caught in the middle—neither Militech nor Arasaka fully trusted her, seeing her as an outsider.
“Then meet him. Our anti-Arasaka vanguard is getting antsy.”
Riku grinned, deciding to give Yorinobu a big push, propelling this father-frustrater forward.
“No problem, I’m on it.”
Michiko moved fast, springing into action like a true ninja on a mission. Her attitude was impeccable—she knew her place and when to act, honed by years of playing the game.
Soon, she arrived at Konpeki Plaza, Yorinobu’s go-to spot. He even had a dedicated VIP room, practically his second home in Night City.
In a way, assassinating him here would be easier than tracking his movements—he always ended up here.
“My dear uncle, you don’t look too happy.”
Adam Smasher, almost fully cyberized, opened the door for Michiko. The moment she saw Yorinobu, she flashed a teasing grin, poking at him like a shuriken to the ribs.
“That bastard knows I took the thing.”
Yorinobu didn’t argue, frowning as he shared the bad news. This meant Saburo’s counterattack was coming fast, leaving them no room to maneuver.
“You think he’ll show up himself?”
Michiko didn’t flinch, tossing out what sounded like a joke—at least to Yorinobu.
“Him? Come here? He’s ancient, with a medical team on standby 24/7. He hasn’t set foot on this land in nearly a century. You think he’d come for this?”
Yorinobu scoffed, laying out a logical case. It sounded convincing.
Chapter 267: The Lone Savior, Arasaka Yorinobu
"Not necessarily," Arasaka Michiko retorted.
Who could possibly guess what Arasaka Saburo was thinking? Who could see through his schemes? When Riku first mentioned "RELIC 2.0," Michiko was utterly shocked—shocked that the old man, Arasaka Saburo, could be so ruthless. He’d rather create something like this "resurrection from death" than let go, refusing to hand over power to the next generation.
Now, Arasaka Yorinobu had pulled the rug out from under him, stealing the prototype chip for "RELIC 2.0." The entire plan was practically exposed, teetering on the edge of being revealed to the world or sold to rival companies. Could Arasaka Saburo really just sit still? Even with one foot in the grave, that old fossil wouldn’t just wait for his end.
"So what if he comes himself? I’m not backing down," Yorinobu said, his face stern, clearly in a foul mood. To him, Arasaka Saburo had become an enemy. That old man didn’t see him as a person—just a vessel for revival.
Truth be told, despite always rebelling against Arasaka, Yorinobu had never considered killing Saburo. After all, that was his father. Yorinobu liked to think he had principles. He’d rather wait for Saburo to die naturally than plot to take his life.
Of course, part of it was that Saburo had an iron grip on everything. His paranoia was unmatched—hardly surprising for a cunning old fox who’d lived over 150 years. Unless he let his guard down, no one could touch him. Countless people and factions had wanted him dead for decades, circling the globe with their schemes, yet none had succeeded in nearly a century.
"Have you decided what you’re going to do?" Michiko asked, lounging on the sofa, looking at her pitiful uncle.
This once-rebellious uncle had suddenly played the prodigal son, returning to the fold. Anyone would’ve been suspicious. Sure, "I was young and foolish" could explain his past antics, but with Saburo’s personality, there was no way he’d buy it. After all, Saburo had publicly disowned Yorinobu, severing their father-son bond without a shred of mercy.
Yet, ironically, at Arasaka Kei’s funeral—Michiko’s father—Yorinobu and Saburo reconciled. Everyone was stunned by Saburo’s magnanimity. The stubborn head of the Arasaka clan had softened, accepting his wayward younger son. Theories abounded: some said Kei’s death forced Saburo to embrace his remaining son; others credited Arasaka Hanako, the family-oriented ojou-sama, for smoothing things over.
In the end, no one could’ve guessed Saburo was playing along with Yorinobu’s act, setting a trap with "RELIC 2.0." Yorinobu was waiting for Saburo to die so he could take over Arasaka, while Saburo was waiting for "RELIC 2.0" to take over Yorinobu’s body. What a perfect father-son duo!
Michiko smirked inwardly. Yorinobu must’ve been furious and humiliated when he learned the truth—played like a fool in Saburo’s hands. Though Saburo was her grandfather and Yorinobu her uncle, Michiko felt no attachment to either. She could watch their drama unfold with the detachment of a bystander at a festival.
Of course, she had her own plans. She hoped Saburo and Yorinobu would tear into each other, dragging Hanako into the mess. The messier, the better—it’d give her a chance to fish in troubled waters. Under normal circumstances, she’d have no shot at Arasaka’s future. Yorinobu and Hanako both outranked her, and she’d likely get nothing, not even scraps.
She’d only recently returned to Arasaka, and her influence and supporters were weak. Hanako and Yorinobu led powerful factions: Hanako’s conservative "Kiji Faction" and Yorinobu’s radical "Taka Faction." Michiko’s so-called "Hato Faction" was, frankly, a ragtag group of misfits—nobodies who couldn’t make it to the big table.
The "Kiji Faction," named after the traditional Japanese green pheasant, symbolized conservatism. The last living green pheasants were kept in Hanako’s private wildlife reserve on Shikoku Island. Her faction, centered around her, consisted of conservative tech experts who wanted to stick to Saburo’s roadmap, prioritizing family unity and corporate stability—Hanako’s hallmark.
The "Taka Faction," as the name suggested, was hawkish, favoring aggressive solutions. Supported by Arasaka’s elite, Yorinobu’s charisma rallied a large following. His ideas were innovative but controversial, clashing with the conservatives. Though Yorinobu and Hanako were close as siblings, their factions were like fire and water.
Both, however, united against Michiko’s "Hato Faction." The Kiji and Taka represented Arasaka’s internal interests, just with different visions, while Michiko brought in an outside force, threatening to disrupt the status quo. Her supporters weren’t Arasaka’s entrenched elite but "free spirits" looking to upend the system—nobodies, in the eyes of the establishment.
Her faction had little sway within Arasaka. Outside, though, Michiko’s charm won her support among high society, and she had her own independent company. But that made her a threat, stealing opportunities from the "true Arasaka banner." In a normal succession, she stood no chance. When people talked about Saburo’s heir, it was always Yorinobu or Hanako.
Even in the next generation, Michiko had no place—she was only 13 years younger than Yorinobu and 9 years younger than Hanako. By the time either retired, she’d still be out of the running. Her position was that awkward.
So, this brewing chaos in Arasaka was her only shot, and she was eager to seize it.
"I’ve already contacted several companies. They’re very interested in this thing. I won’t let Saburo use the RELIC chip to rule the world, even if my actions might lead to some… less-than-ideal outcomes," Yorinobu said firmly.
Stubborn like his father, Yorinobu’s resolve was unshakable—call it conviction or obsession. Saburo pursued "RELIC 2.0" to dominate Arasaka and the world forever. Yorinobu, meanwhile, wanted to leak it to dismantle Arasaka’s grip, even if it unleashed chaos. To him, that was better than letting Arasaka control the world.
"Tch." Riku, eavesdropping from the shadows, clicked his tongue. This was why he never tried controlling this father-son duo—they were untamable. One, a 21-year-old who, upon learning his family’s true nature, left home to fight against Arasaka. The other, a power-hungry mastermind who’d built and ruled Arasaka for over a century. Both were too stubborn to be reined in. For some, death was preferable to a chained life.
"Who’s there?!" Yorinobu snapped, instantly alert. He wasn’t some helpless rich kid—he’d survived the streets. Michiko, unfazed, knew it was Riku.
"Arasaka Yorinobu, you’re a true anti-corporate warrior, but sometimes, you’re a bit too extreme," Riku said, emerging from the shadows to sit casually on the sofa. His view of Yorinobu was complex. Undeniably, Yorinobu was a rare figure—a traitor to his ruling class, fighting to dismantle corporate oppression with unmatched conviction. Compared to Johnny Silverhand, Yorinobu’s resolve was purer, his sacrifices greater given his privileged origins.
But that same background made Yorinobu far more dangerous. Johnny’s rebellion was limited by his resources—he’d have fizzled out without luck. Yorinobu, however, had Adam Smasher at his beck and call. If he neutralized Hanako, he could seize Arasaka and spark a global corporate war.
And he would. To him, it was the only way to break corporate dominance. The cost? Catastrophic casualties, a world dragged into chaos worse than any past war.
Riku didn’t entirely disagree. This rotten world might need Yorinobu’s drastic measures to change. But with Riku in the picture, he believed there was a less extreme path.
"Who are you?" Yorinobu asked, eyes narrowing at Riku’s dramatic entrance.
"Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is why you’re fighting Arasaka. Do you still remember, Yorinobu?" Riku countered, leaning back.
Yorinobu frowned, glancing at Michiko. Her expression betrayed familiarity with this stranger, shocking him. Was she… subordinate to him?
"You know him?" Yorinobu asked her.
"Yeah. Everything I told you came from Devil-sama. He’s the one who set this up," Michiko admitted bluntly, leaving Yorinobu stunned.
"See? I’ve shown my sincerity. You’re not gonna dodge a simple question, are you? It’s not like it’s personal," Riku teased with a sly grin.
Yorinobu pursed his lips, reluctantly swayed. "I fight Arasaka because it’s a blight on humanity. They monopolize everything through war, assassination, and dirty tricks, pushing their militaristic agenda. They don’t care about progress or people’s well-being."
He continued, voice rising. "It’s not just Arasaka—all megacorps are the same. They choke out small businesses, reduce humans to brain-equipped tools, disposable cogs in their machine."
Yorinobu’s passion poured out. He’d bottled these thoughts up, unable to share them even with his followers, who were loyal to Arasaka’s banner, not his true ideals. In this world, he was a lone rebel pulling against a sinking abyss, with few allies by his side.
Chapter 268: Success Doesn’t Have to Be Mine
Arasaka Yorinobu had seen through the twisted, unnatural state of the world. That understanding fueled his extremism, his willingness to go all-in. He knew soft methods couldn’t change this warped reality.
“Only war—a war that obliterates the old order, drags every corporation into the abyss—can bring even a sliver of hope to this world. If the corps don’t fall, the world won’t live.”
Yorinobu spoke without hesitation, laying bare the truth he’d distilled over decades. It was the conviction that drove him forward.
Though his father, Arasaka Saburo, constantly guarded against and suppressed him, it didn’t stop Yorinobu from burrowing deeper into Arasaka, dissecting the essence of the corporation and figuring out how to dismantle these colossal beasts.
He was no longer the “Iron Dragon” who used to stir up petty trouble on the streets. Now, he was the “Dragon of Destruction,” ready to breathe fire and burn corporate rule to the ground.
“Hiss~”
Riku didn’t react much, but Arasaka Michiko couldn’t hold it together. She stared at Yorinobu with sheer horror, as if seeing him for the first time.
No wonder—Yorinobu’s words weren’t just rebellious; they were a declaration of war on the entire world.
To Michiko, he didn’t seem sane anymore. Even cyberpsychos weren’t this unhinged.
As a beneficiary of the system, albeit a challenger within Arasaka, Michiko only wanted chaos to seize control of the company. Yorinobu, on the other hand, wanted to destroy Arasaka—destroy the world. Their goals couldn’t be more different.
“Rebuilding society… it’s not as easy as you think.”
Michiko spoke up, clearly disapproving of Yorinobu’s approach. Even setting aside her own position, his plan was insanely difficult to pull off.
Unless you dragged the whole world down with you, leveling every corporation, a global war—even one involving all the corps—wouldn’t guarantee their collapse.
It was a long shot, not impossible but wildly unpredictable. The more likely outcome? Countless casualties, and the world still under corporate rule.
“Of course I know that. That’s why I’ll ally with national governments. If they seize the moment to nationalize the corps, taking over the power vacuum, we can set things right.”
Yorinobu had clearly thought this through. He wanted to restore a “normal” order, where governments held power—at least more normal than corporations controlling everything. At the very least, governments could counterbalance the corps, ending their unchallenged dominance.
Corporations were like bloodsucking parasites on humanity, draining life while pumping out false promises, luring people into a delusional world. They offered no benefits, only weakening humanity until it withered away in a false reality.
“You still trust them?”
Michiko looked incredulous. The Fourth Corporate War had left both Militech and Arasaka in shambles. Militech was fully nationalized, and Arasaka nearly followed. If not for Saburo’s desperate efforts to hold the company together, it would’ve been absorbed into Neon Japan.
But even then, it proved that weakened corps couldn’t be easily swallowed by governments. New America “nationalized” Militech, but in reality, Militech just rebranded and arguably took over the government, using New America as its shell.
“Pinning your hopes on them? You’ve lost it.”
Michiko scoffed, her opinion of Yorinobu plummeting. He wasn’t just crazy—he was anti-human.
Did he even consider how many would die in this war? Billions, at minimum, for a “low-intensity” conflict.
With today’s tech, if things went off the rails, dragging human civilization into a dark age would be child’s play.
“Starting over isn’t such a bad thing.”
Yorinobu’s response was calm, almost dismissive, as if a civilizational collapse wasn’t necessarily a negative in his eyes.
“?!”
Michiko was speechless, unable to even engage with him. He was completely insane.
Riku, though, understood Yorinobu’s perspective to an extent. In a way, Yorinobu might believe that even a traditional “apocalypse” would grant humans more freedom and happiness than this corporate-controlled dystopia. Wasn’t this world already an end of days?
In chaos, there was a chance to rebuild order—a possibility that didn’t exist in this world, locked down and dominated by corporations.
Honestly, if Riku were a native of this world, without his dimension-hopping powers or [Ultimate Lifeform] abilities, he might just join Yorinobu in a shonen-style, hot-blooded rampage to smash this world to bits and drag the corps into the abyss. After all, no world could be worse than this one.
Even if it meant being branded a war criminal, infamous for sparking a world-destroying war, so what? As long as the world’s order was reset, freeing people from being mere slaves or brain-driven tools, it would be worth it. Success didn’t have to be his own.
“Sigh.”
Riku let out a breath. Even at eighty, Yorinobu was still that chuuni “Iron Dragon,” the fearless youth who, upon realizing Arasaka’s sins, resolutely chose to fight against it and all corporations. His courage and resolve transcended his era.
“Devil-sama, this guy’s completely lost it.”
Michiko cut in, snapping Riku out of his thoughts. She was desperate for his agreement, unnerved by his lack of shock at Yorinobu’s rant. It set off alarm bells in her head.
She was genuinely afraid Riku might back Yorinobu’s plan to tear the world apart. What good would that do her? She’d clawed her way to her current position through countless struggles—she wasn’t about to throw away her status and wealth.
“Michiko, your mindset hasn’t shifted yet.”
Riku glanced at the anxious Michiko, shaking his head. The ones who should be panicking were the corporate leaders tied to the current era, terrified of Yorinobu dragging them into a sennin taiketsu (battle of annihilation).
“Uh…”
Michiko paused, her anxiety easing as she mulled over Riku’s words.
“Your interests aren’t just in the present.”
Riku added a reminder. Why should an immortal like her cling to fleeting gains? Losing short-term benefits? Look to the future.
Why would an undying being obsess over temporary trinkets? Even if society collapsed, an immortal wouldn’t struggle to find their place or get what they wanted.
If she desired, she could easily become a leader in a post-apocalyptic world, guiding humanity to rebuild order. Even if civilization crumbled, it wouldn’t revert to the Stone Age or end entirely. Leading a new order might take a few centuries—nothing to an immortal.
Honestly, for Riku, whether leading a post-apocalyptic rebuild or pulling strings behind it, it’d be easier than manipulating this world. A blank slate was easier to paint than reshaping the current one.
“This…”
Michiko was stunned. She hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d only recently become immortal, and at her age—young for an elite in this world—her mindset hadn’t adapted. For regular folks, reaching seventy was a feat, but she was still adjusting.
Given time, she might’ve realized this herself.
After all, as an immortal, building an organization to influence or control a civilization from the shadows wasn’t a novel concept—plenty of manga and light novels had similar ideas.
Take Arasaka Saburo’s “RELIC 2.0” project. Wasn’t it just his attempt at “immortality” to keep controlling Arasaka and, by extension, the world?
“Wait, what are you two talking about?”
Yorinobu, who’d been ranting moments ago, was now utterly confused. Their reactions were off!
What was this talk of “looking to the future,” “controlling the world,” and “immortal organizations”? It was too wild!
He pinched himself, half-suspecting he was dreaming. It had to be his obsession with “RELIC 2.0” and Saburo messing with his head, making him imagine this absurdity.
“We’re talking about what happens after you smash this world and shatter its order—how we rebuild and control everything in the process.”
Riku grinned at Yorinobu, his smile as bright as a shonen protagonist’s, but his words left Yorinobu reeling.
He stared blankly at Riku, then at Michiko, trying to process their meaning.
“I don’t get it…”
Yorinobu looked to Michiko for answers. This meeting had veered into territory he couldn’t have predicted, and he needed clarity.
“Pfft!”
Then, Michiko’s head flew off. Yorinobu’s eyes widened as he shouted, “Fuck!” and drew his gun, aiming at Riku, who’d casually swung his hand.
“Hold off on the ‘Fuck.’ Watch this.”
Riku remained calm, lounging on the sofa like a daimyo.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Yorinobu was baffled. Weren’t these two on the same side? They were just talking cryptic nonsense—why the sudden betrayal?!
But what happened next left him speechless, his gun trembling in his hand as he entered a state of utter shock.
Michiko’s headless body moved on its own, walking to her head, picking it up, and placing it back on her neck.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Michiko, holding her head to adjust it, spoke with a half-smile, clearly amused by Yorinobu’s reaction.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Yorinobu unleashed a torrent of curses—rare for him, especially in recent years. But this was too bizarre, leaving him rattled.
“Are you really Michiko?! What are you two?!”
He aimed his gun at both, questioning them, but doubting his weapon’s effectiveness.
“As you see, we’re immortal, undying beings.”
Riku smiled at Yorinobu, delivering his prepared line.
Truth be told, after this interaction, Riku wanted to recruit Yorinobu, but it’d be tough. The guy was stubborn—he needed a shock, something to convince him joining would serve his dreams.
“No way! One RELIC 2.0 isn’t enough?! What’s going on here?! Michiko, is this Militech’s tech?!”
Yorinobu turned to Michiko. Her shady ties to Militech were no secret—she’d sold out Arasaka’s American interests before. Though she’d rejoined Arasaka and reclaimed her name, could she really be clean of Militech? This kind of tech had to come from a giant like Arasaka or Militech.
Chapter 269: Inviting Arasaka Saburo to His Demise
“It has nothing to do with Militech. This is all a gift from Devil-sama. Only Devil-sama can truly free us from the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death. Uncle, your chance is right in front of you.”
Arasaka Michiko unleashed a barrage of flattery toward Riku, then directly signaled to Arasaka Yorinobu, making it clear she’d caught onto Riku’s intentions. This woman was sharp—especially when it came to reading people. She could tell Riku wanted to bring Arasaka Yorinobu into the fold.
“No, no, no!”
Arasaka Yorinobu shook his head, his face full of resistance. His brows furrowed as he struggled to make sense of what was happening, but he was failing miserably. How could this even be possible?!
“Holographic projection?”
If he had to guess, that was the only explanation that made sense to Yorinobu. It had to be fake—all of it!
“Of course not. I’m real. Don’t believe me? Try touching me.”
Arasaka Michiko took a step forward, reaching out to prove she was no mere projection.
“Stop!”
Yorinobu’s reaction was intense. He stumbled back several steps, clearly wanting to keep his distance.
Michiko rolled her eyes, a bit exasperated. She got it, though—the scene just now was pretty freaky. Yorinobu probably needed a moment to process.
“Yorinobu-san, there’s no need to be scared. I’m just saying, if you join us, you’ll have a shot at success. Everything you do will have meaning. Otherwise, you’re just paving the way for us. In the grand scale of time, your efforts will amount to nothing.”
Riku lounged on the sofa, cutting straight to the point as he tried to recruit Yorinobu. His message was clear: if you want to be the final victor, you have to survive until the end. No matter how much you achieve, it’s meaningless if someone else can come along and rewrite it all.
Arasaka Saburo understood this well. His pursuit of immortality stemmed from the fact that no one else could carry on his ambitions. If he died, his 150-year-long dream would vanish into thin air—a fate more terrifying to him than death itself.
Or rather, it wasn’t death he feared. He’d never been afraid of dying. What terrified him was the thought of his life’s work crumbling to dust. Talk of resurrection or immortality? The so-called “RELIC 2.0” was just an AI soul built from his memories and thought patterns. Did that count as resurrection or eternal life?
To Riku, it definitely didn’t. Biologically speaking, reviving in someone else’s body with unchanged genetics meant the body was still the original person’s—not Arasaka Saburo’s. But from another angle, if the AI soul had Saburo’s memories and thought patterns, calling it Saburo didn’t seem entirely wrong either. It was, in essence, a continuation of his will.
To Saburo, as long as the goal was achieved, it was enough. That AI soul would keep striving for everything he wanted.
If possible, Saburo even wanted to mass-produce those chips and scatter them around. Even if he failed and the Arasaka Corporation fell, someone could pick up the chip, slot it in, and he’d “resurrect” in the future.
That resurrected individual would carry on his ambitions. With 150 years of memories, their personality would be stable, unshaken by external forces.
From a personal standpoint, Riku respected Saburo’s ability and resolve. But that was exactly why he couldn’t turn the old man. Saburo was a pure ambitionist, the kind who’d never settle for being under someone else’s thumb.
Riku wasn’t worried about losing control—if someone grew rebellious, he’d just eliminate them. But it would be too much hassle. Why bother with someone so unruly when there were more cooperative options?
Plus, Riku genuinely disliked Saburo’s militaristic mindset. It repulsed him on a fundamental level. His own goals weren’t about ruling the world like Saburo.
“What exactly are you people trying to do?”
Yorinobu stared at Riku, a bitter realization dawning. He’d already suspected something, and now his worst fears were coming true.
What he hadn’t expected was that it wasn’t “RELIC 2.0” or the Arasaka Corporation behind it. It was some mysterious new force—one that had already infiltrated Arasaka, even turning Michiko.
“As you’ve probably guessed, we’re going to control this world from the shadows.”
Riku grinned, not beating around the bush. He confirmed Yorinobu’s fears outright.
In fact, what Arasaka could do with “RELIC 2.0,” Riku could do even more easily. Compared to RELIC, Riku’s version of immortality was the real deal—no question about it.
“We’ll build an organization of immortals. We’ll call it the Kage-kai—the Shadow Society. Our symbol will be a hand lurking behind the curtain, pulling the strings of the world, shaping its future.”
Riku leaned back on the sofa, casually sharing his vision. He’d been mulling over this organization for a while. It was clear they needed structure—rules, ranks, roles, checks, and balances to keep things running smoothly.
Unlike Kibutsuji Muzan, Riku wasn’t worried about his “ghosts” banding together to rebel. Honestly, he was confident that as long as he stayed sharp, no subordinate could pose a real threat to him. At worst, they might mess up the world a bit.
“The Kage-kai…”
A hand manipulating everything from behind the curtain?
That didn’t sound like a group of good guys. Definitely not some upstanding organization.
“Why invite me? Haven’t I made it clear enough? We’re not on the same side. I’m against you! You dictators, trying to rule the world forever—I won’t join your corruption!”
Yorinobu’s face darkened. He was pretty sure he wasn’t getting out of this alive. The Kage-kai was clearly his worst nightmare—the kind of group he’d fought to prevent.
“Hold on. It’s exactly because of your bluntness that I’m inviting you.”
Riku chuckled, shaking his head, unbothered by Yorinobu’s words. Yorinobu had misunderstood the Kage-kai.
Sure, Riku made the Kage-kai sound like a villainous, behind-the-scenes mastermind group. But in reality, their goals weren’t villainous at all. For this twisted world, Riku even thought his ideas were a bit too progressive.
No way around it—basic rights and protections that Riku considered normal were pipe dreams in this distorted world. No corporation would ever implement them. They were shocking enough to leave Yorinobu stunned—not because of the ideas themselves, but because Riku, of all people, was a good guy trying to fix this broken world. His methods were just… a bit more abstract than Yorinobu’s.
Riku’s plan was to infiltrate first, recruiting members from society’s upper echelons to grow the Kage-kai’s influence.
When the time was ripe—when the key powerholders were under Kage-kai control—they’d launch a top-down reform, crushing opposition and rebuilding the social order to fix this twisted world.
To Yorinobu, it sounded like pure fantasy. Where there are people, there’s conflict. How could Riku ensure all Kage-kai members worked toward the same goal? How could he prevent it from turning into a war among immortals?
“Simple. I’ll be in charge.”
Riku gave a light laugh. It was straightforward: disobey, and you die. No immortal could defy his will.
“…”
Yorinobu fell silent. It finally clicked. Every immortal’s life was in Riku’s hands. He should’ve realized sooner—why else would Riku create so many peers unless he had absolute control?
“In the end, you just want to rule the world yourself.”
Yorinobu’s voice carried disappointment. No matter how nicely Riku dressed it up, wasn’t he just another dictator, no different from Saburo?
“The difference is, we’ll rebuild order. I don’t need people slaving away to generate profits for me. Under the seemingly dictatorial, twisted rule of the Kage-kai, this planet’s social order will return to normal. Law and morality will become the foundation of society again.”
Riku spoke as if it were obvious. He wasn’t some corporate dictator, squeezing employees dry to outmaneuver rival companies.
From his perspective, he wanted healthy competition—a vibrant, creative world. He wanted civilization to progress, to produce cutting-edge tech. That was the real strength of this world.
Other worlds? They were either stuck in pre-World War I tech or hovering at early 21st-century levels. None were reliable. This world’s tech was leagues ahead.
Right now, the worlds Riku could realistically control were the Tokyo Ghoul world and this Cyberpunk world. The Tokyo Ghoul world was the easiest—low tech, no mystical forces, and the only non-human threat, the ghouls, were no match for him. It was only a matter of time.
The Cyberpunk world had no outrageous supernatural powers either, but its tech was advanced. In this distorted world, infiltrating the upper ranks made unification feasible. The only real threat was AI.
AI was a genuine danger. If the Blackwall fell or got corrupted, humanity would lose the net. It wouldn’t be apocalyptic, but it’d be a massive setback for technological progress.
That clearly didn’t align with Riku’s goals. He’d do everything to prevent it.
“You could say the Kage-kai is a collective of ambitionists. Most of them probably won’t support my ideas, but they’ll have to obey under my pressure. I want you to join because you genuinely want to rebuild order and make this world better.”
Riku had high hopes for Yorinobu. The guy’s convictions had withstood the test of time. He was someone Riku could trust completely.
In Riku’s vision, when he wasn’t in this world, Yorinobu could lead the local Kage-kai. His methods, beliefs, and resources made him perfect for keeping others in line.
“…”
Yorinobu was stunned. He hadn’t expected Riku to place such trust in him, to hand him leadership of the entire Kage-kai.
Michiko’s eyes widened nearby, caught off guard. She wanted to say something but held back. This wasn’t how she’d imagined things! She’d been the one by Riku’s side, doing all the legwork. How did Yorinobu, the odd man out, end up getting the big role?
“Don’t worry, Michiko. You’ll be the Shadow Overseer, monitoring all Kage-kai members in secret. Your skills are perfect for it. You’ll report directly to me.”
Riku hadn’t forgotten Michiko. She’d started as a detective, running “Danger Girl,” a private investigation firm specializing in intelligence. Making her the overseer was a natural fit.
“Yes, Devil-sama.”
Michiko bowed her head, clearly pleased. The role suited her skills, and the authority—reporting directly to Riku—said it all.
“So, what’s your decision?”
Riku smiled at Michiko, then turned back to Yorinobu, awaiting his answer.
“I don’t have a choice, do I? Either I trust you and take the gamble, or I die.”
Yorinobu took a deep breath, then spoke slowly. His words sealed the deal—he was taking the gamble, choosing to believe in Riku. What if it actually worked?
“Good. Then let’s get things moving. Invite Arasaka Saburo to his demise and let you take full control of Arasaka.”
Riku nodded, satisfied. With Saburo gone, Yorinobu taking over Arasaka was the easiest path—much smoother than pushing Michiko into power.
Buzz!
As he spoke, Riku flicked a drop of blood toward Yorinobu, and the transformation began. Riku was actually excited—Yorinobu was likely to trigger a “draw.”
[Name: Arasaka Yorinobu (Special Retainer)
Abilities: Regenerative Immortality, Light Weakness, Cannibalistic Hunger
Special Trait: Father’s Farewell, Son’s Laughter
[Father’s Farewell, Son’s Laughter: Deals 15% increased damage to those who are fathers.]]
As expected, Yorinobu was a special retainer, triggering the draw. But the trait? Riku couldn’t help but laugh and cringe at the same time.
Father’s Farewell, Son’s Laughter? What kind of grim joke was this? “The father dies, and the son laughs”? And the trait was so niche—only effective against fathers? Yorinobu was basically the ultimate “Father-Slayer” now.
Chapter 270: Installing Johnny Silverhand’s RELIC Chip
The phrase “Fushi shishō” (Father Passes, Son Laughs) might sound abstract, but it fits Arasaka Yorinobu’s life pretty well. His old man, as a father figure, is honestly kind of a mess—way too out there. Arasaka Saburo, in so many ways, is undeniably a legend. Even as a husband, he was devoted, no question. Yorinobu and Hanako’s mother was his true love, and that’s a love story worth telling.
But as a father? Man, Saburo’s performance was straight-up yabai (wild). Especially for his two sons—it’s like he barely registered them. Maybe it’s that old saying about royal families: no love between fathers and sons. Hanako’s the exception, probably because she’s the spitting image of her late mother.
For Saburo, it’s like his parents’ love was the real deal, and the kids? Just an accident.
“So that’s how it is,” Yorinobu muttered.
He’d finished his transformation, and the compressed data packet from Riku hit him like a shock to the system. He finally understood what kind of “contract” he’d signed.
To be real, this “contract” gave him a lot—stuff no one else could offer. Immortality plus invincibility? That’s the kind of core competency that makes you untouchable. And what he had to give up for it? Not much more than what other corps would demand. Devil could decide their life or death with a single thought, sure, but isn’t that the same with any megacorp contract? These days, companies treat employees like disposable netrunner decks—full of bōkoku (tyrannical) clauses. If they think you’re useless, they can strip you of everything, including your life, without blinking.
Megacorps today are straight-up demons walking the earth. Work your whole life for them, and you’re left with nada. That’s just standard operating procedure.
At this point, Yorinobu didn’t doubt a word Riku had said. A contract like this? People would be fighting tooth and nail to sign it. Hardly anyone would say no.
Bringing Arasaka Yorinobu into the fold was a huge step—the most important one. Riku was already thinking about the next move, but honestly, there wasn’t much to do. Just wait for Arasaka Saburo to show up.
“How do we take out Arasaka Saburo?” Yorinobu asked, looking at Riku.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Riku had said: make Saburo face his end, and Yorinobu would take the reins of Arasaka’s power. Sounds easy, right? But pulling it off? Not so much. Saburo’s security is chō kōkyū (top-tier). His travel routes, destinations—everything’s a secret. Even the people closest to him barely know the details. Guys at his level don’t get caught off guard unless someone on the inside betrays them. And with all the lessons learned from past attacks, security’s been maxed out. Decapitation strikes—cheap and effective—are getting harder to pull off. Especially since Arasaka’s security business is one of their core pillars. No way they’d slip up.
“He’ll come to his own funeral,” Riku said, calm as ever.
He couldn’t track Saburo’s movements either, but he didn’t need to. Saburo would walk right into their hands.
“Will he really show up?” Yorinobu asked, skeptical.
Truth be told, he hadn’t seen the old man in a while.
“Just wait,” Riku replied. “Or you could ask Arasaka Hanako. She might know something.”
Riku wasn’t in a rush. It’d probably happen in the next few days. Saburo would roll into Night City, and until he was standing right in front of Yorinobu, no one would even know he was there. The guy’s secrecy game was saikō (top-notch).
“Alright, I’ll ask her,” Yorinobu said, his eyes flickering.
He knew Hanako was different. She and Saburo were tight—way closer than he ever was with the old man. They met up regularly.
Without hesitating, Yorinobu dialed Hanako. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if she’d spill anything, especially since it involved Saburo’s safety.
“Onii-san?” Hanako’s voice came through, surprised.
Yorinobu had been dodging her calls lately, so getting a direct call from him was unexpected.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Hanako genuinely cared about Yorinobu. They’d always been close, and she’d spent years playing mediator between him and their father, trying to patch up their messy relationship.
“Nothing’s wrong, Hanako. Is Arasaka Saburo coming to see me?” Yorinobu went straight to the point, no small talk.
Hanako froze. That question cut right to the core.
“Can’t say?” Yorinobu pressed, picking up on her silence.
He and Hanako had a kind of unspoken understanding. Back when he was younger, she’d helped him out plenty, even covering for him when Arasaka’s agents were on his tail. Her silence now told him everything. Devil was right.
“I can’t say, and you shouldn’t ask,” Hanako finally said. “The RELIC 2.0 situation is serious. It’s not something others can handle.”
Her words pretty much confirmed Yorinobu’s gut feeling.
“Got it,” he said, hanging up.
No point pushing Hanako further. If she could say more, she would’ve. If she couldn’t, no amount of prodding would change that. Hanako had her own principles, and Yorinobu respected that.
“Saburo’s coming. Probably already here,” Yorinobu said, feeling the weight of it all.
No matter how you sliced it, this was Arasaka Saburo—the founder, the ruler, the dictator who’d dominated an entire era.
“No rush. Let me see that RELIC chip of yours first,” Riku said, nodding.
He didn’t care much about Saburo—a half-dead old man was just that, no matter how many titles he carried. In the face of death, none of it mattered. What Riku was really curious about was the “RELIC 2.0” chip. That prototype held Johnny Silverhand’s digital soul—an AI with all of Johnny’s memories and thought patterns.
“Alright, but this thing’s chō kichō (super valuable). Storage conditions are strict,” Yorinobu said.
He had no reason to refuse. Honestly, “RELIC 2.0” wasn’t even that important anymore. Harsh truth? The tech was already outdated before it could even hit mass production. Riku’s stuff was clearly light-years ahead.
Yorinobu pulled out a specialized storage case. The “RELIC 2.0” wasn’t your average chip—it was a biochip, crazy delicate. It needed a human-like environment to stay functional. Leave it out in the open, and it’d deactivate in no time, wiping all the data.
Riku opened the case and eyed the chip. It looked plain, nothing flashy. Probably intentional. A chip like this was basically a death sentence—you plug it in, it’s not coming out. Make it too fancy, and people might hesitate. Keep it low-key, and someone might just slot it in without thinking, like picking up a random choom’s tech off the street.
“Once it’s in, it’s not coming out. Pull it, and you’re done,” Yorinobu said, looking like he’d dodged a bullet.
He was one of the targets meant to test this thing, after all.
“I’m gonna mess with it,” Riku said, tucking the case away.
He already had Johnny Silverhand’s body. Now, with Johnny’s digital AI soul in hand, he was itching to tinker—see if he could pull off something yabai (insane).
“When Saburo shows up, let me know,” Riku said before vanishing into the shadows.
Yorinobu and Arasaka Michiko were left staring at each other.
“Does Devil-sama always just… poof like that?” Yorinobu asked, stunned.
One second they’re talking, and the next, Riku’s gone. With Saburo’s arrival being the big deal, what could be so urgent that he’d just bail?
“We don’t question Devil-sama’s moves. Just follow orders,” Michiko said, sounding like a seasoned pro.
That’s how it’d been for her these past few days. Riku barely checked in. He’d give an order and leave her to handle it—no micromanaging, just pure shinpai nashi (no worries) leadership. The perfect boss. As long as she got the job done, Devil didn’t sweat the small stuff. He wasn’t stingy with praise or rewards either, and he seemed to value talent above all. That’s how she’d landed the role of leading the Overseers, giving her a high-up spot in the “Shadow Society.”
“That’s how he rolls?” Yorinobu asked, visibly relaxing.
A hands-off boss who only cares about the big picture? Who wouldn’t love that? Less face-time with someone who holds your life in their hands, the better. That kind of pressure’s no joke.
“Don’t ask, don’t pry. That’s not our place. Just focus on our job and leave the rest alone,” Michiko said, her tone carrying a kind of street-smart wisdom.
She’d earned her place with that mindset.
Yorinobu went quiet. Michiko was acting all high and mighty now, like she was Devil’s right-hand choom. Sure, he was supposed to run the “Shadow Society,” but the Overseers were clearly there to keep him in check.
“So we just wait?” Yorinobu asked, shifting gears.
He just wanted to talk. Today had been too wild, too cyberpunk—he needed to vibe with someone in the same boat.
“Devil-sama said wait, so we wait. No other options. Just follow orders,” Michiko said bluntly.
If there were other ways, sure, they could get creative. From her experience, Devil encouraged them to take initiative and solve problems themselves.
That’s why she trusted Riku more every day. He wasn’t some control-freak dictator hoarding all the power. He was a true hands-off boss who wanted the “Shadow Society” to run itself.
“Alright,” Yorinobu said, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
Things were moving in the direction he wanted. No reason to complain.
Meanwhile, in the Shadow Realm, Einzbern Castle
Riku was already digging into the “RELIC 2.0” chip he’d just scored. He knew this tech inside and out—better than Anders Hellman, Arasaka’s chief bioengineer and neural network guru who’d built the thing using Soulkiller’s source code. Hellman was a jack-of-all-trades, not a genius like Alt Cunningham, but still a pro. Even so, he hadn’t fully cracked “RELIC 2.0.” The project was still a work in progress, riddled with failures.
Truthfully, Riku wasn’t 100% sure this chip would work. He couldn’t exactly test it on V—either of the two Vs he had. No way he’d throw them into the fire like that. Without V’s unique traits, there was no guarantee the chip would function. It wasn’t like this one chip was magically perfect when all the others flopped. If anything, Riku figured V was the special factor.
“Let’s try it. Saburo pulled it off later, so maybe this batch is the one that works,” Riku muttered.
No point overthinking it. He’d learn more by experimenting. Even if it failed, it wouldn’t necessarily be the chip’s fault—his test was pretty kūki (out there) anyway.
Without hesitation, Riku summoned the body he’d prepped. It was a unique one—Johnny Silverhand’s, complete with a metal arm. Riku had already modded it with Rc cells, turning it into a controllable kagune monster. The body was technically “alive” now, but soulless—just an empty shell.
The plan? Slot the “RELIC 2.0” chip into this kagune monster, kill it, and see if the chip could activate.
(Chapter End)