"What happened?!"
Takemura Goro burst out of the elevator and stepped into the penthouse suite—barely minutes since he'd left it—only to be greeted by a sight he could hardly believe.
The man he had sworn to protect—Lord Saburo Arasaka—was lying lifeless in a pool of blood, a bullet hole drilled cleanly through his forehead.
Takemura didn't need to get any closer.
His years of experience told him all he needed to know.
Saburo Arasaka was dead.
Panic, disbelief, and a flood of emotion surged through Takemura's mind, overwhelming his thoughts. But amid the chaos, a single, relentless question rose to the surface:
What had happened?
What the hell happened here?!
Why had he left? Why had he followed Saburo's orders and walked away, even if just for a moment? How had things gone so catastrophically wrong in such a short span?
Could it have been Senno Arasaka?
That was Takemura's first thought—his most immediate suspicion.
Senno had been alone with Saburo. And they had never seen eye to eye.
But as Takemura's gaze shifted toward Senno, he noticed something even more alarming.
There were bodies on the floor.
A whole ring of them, sprawled around Senno like a failed ambush.
Corpses, not just people.
Judging from their positioning, these individuals had tried to encircle Senno.
But now they were all dead.
Who were they?
Why were they even here?
This suite had been reserved for only three people: Saburo, Senno, and Karl.
So who were these others?
Takemura's pulse raced. His instincts kicked in. He quickened his pace toward Senno and Saburo's body—but stopped halfway when Senno turned his gaze upon him.
That gaze held fury. Accusation. Interrogation.
It made Takemura freeze.
"Takemura-san," Senno said, voice hard as steel. "What is your duty?"
My duty?
Still struggling to process Saburo's death and the unknown intruders, Takemura was blindsided by the question.
He blinked. Froze. Then slowly pulled himself together.
He stopped moving, standing face-to-face with Senno.
He was beginning to realize the truth. But it was something he didn't want to accept.
So he answered cautiously: "I don't understand."
Senno's frown deepened.
His gaze didn't waver, his voice sharp as a blade. "It's a simple question. Answer it."
A simple question. Answer it.
Pressed by that commanding tone, Takemura looked once again at Saburo's lifeless form—his cybernetic optics confirming zero life signs.
He clenched his jaw.
"My duty... is to protect the head of the Arasaka family."
That seemed to please Senno. He gave a slow nod.
"Then I sincerely hope," he said, "that going forward, you'll carry out that duty properly."
The words struck Takemura like a hammer.
Carry out his duty... going forward.
But who was the head of the Arasaka family now?
Takemura already knew the answer.
There was only one male heir left.
The rightful successor.
Senno Arasaka.
The same man who had always defied Saburo.
The same man who had nearly torn Arasaka Corporation apart.
And now, with Saburo dead, Senno would inherit everything.
It was painfully ironic.
The rebel had become the ruler.
But Takemura had no room for personal opinions. No space for emotion.
Saburo's sudden death had shaken him to his core.
And now, standing between Saburo's corpse and Senno's unrelenting gaze, every principle Takemura had learned from Arasaka—almost to the level of indoctrination—told him what he had to do.
Takemura Goro had pledged his loyalty to Arasaka.
Everything he had—his status, his cyberware, his purpose—was given to him by Arasaka.
There was no breaking away from that now. No turning back.
His old master was gone.
All that remained... was to swear fealty to the new one.
Even if that man had once been a "traitor" he would have killed a hundred times over for Saburo's sake.
Takemura bowed deeply, body trembling with resignation.
"Forgive me, Lord Arasaka," he said solemnly. "I will. I won't let you down."
He and Senno were about the same height, but right now—bowed and broken—Takemura seemed so much smaller.
And Senno Arasaka was satisfied.
He understood Takemura's obedience wasn't born from true loyalty. Not yet.
It was shock. It was submission born of chaos.
But that didn't matter.
A vow was a vow.
Once given, it became a chain—tightening over time until escape was impossible.
Once Senno formally inherited his father's empire, he'd gain full control over the corporation's systems.
Then, shutting down Takemura's cyberware—piece by piece—would be a simple command.
Takemura's entire body was built on Arasaka tech.
If stripped of it, the rejection would ravage him—rendering him weaker than he had ever been, even before cyberization.
But for now, Senno didn't yet hold that power.
So to keep his former father's most loyal guard from growing suspicious, he offered the official version of events—the one he planned to share with the world.
"I need to handle this matter swiftly and securely," Senno said.
"Whether this was Militech, or some other corp using Militech hardware to stage a hit—we need to begin a full investigation immediately."
"Militech? Another corp?"
Now that he had declared his loyalty, Takemura finally began to process the rest.
His eyes widened.
He looked again at the strange corpses lying in a ring.
Could it be...?
Were these the people who killed Lord Saburo?!
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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