The time was 13:40.
There were still twenty minutes left before the scheduled rendezvous with Arasaka Seisen, but as a professional crew, Karl and his team were already waiting at the port.
For a protection job, arriving early was essential—make a good impression on the client, show reliability. Besides, if the client got killed a minute before the mission started, that'd be on you. As long as the pay was right, KK Squad didn't mind clocking in half an hour early.
Their presence at the port, out in the open, naturally drew attention from some of the Arasaka personnel. But after receiving orders from higher-ups and handing over port control to drones, the staff left, and the attention on KK Squad noticeably dropped.
Of course, surveillance didn't disappear altogether—this was Arasaka, after all. The port was still full of cameras. Just because the people were gone didn't mean the eyes were.
But routine surveillance like that didn't concern the squad. What they were more focused on was whether Arasaka Seisen would actually arrive on time.
"Still no reply?" Jack asked as he glanced over at Karl, who was staring at his phone.
"Less than thirty minutes left now. You messaged him an hour ago and still nothing. He didn't run into trouble crossing the Pacific, did he?"
"If he were coming by sea, maybe," Karl replied, a bit uncertain himself. "The Pacific's full of automated torpedoes and AI patrol drones these days. But if he's in an AV, it should be fine... unless he ran out of fuel midair. That'd be one hell of a dark joke."
"'Arasaka's heir apparent crashes into the Pacific en route to Night City'—feels like a headline straight out of some satirical braindance," Oliver quipped. "Still, I hope nothing happens to Seisen. He's decent. If someone's gotta disappear, I'd rather it be Saburo."
"Is that the proud opinion of a true-blooded American?" Karl teased.
"Don't give me that. There's no 'Old America' anymore. Just the NUSA and its damned miltech mess. I'm a Night City native through and through," Oliver shot back. "And besides, you're one to talk. Aren't you technically a Kang Tao corpo brat?"
"Different context," Karl said with a shrug—just as a message lit up on his phone.
It was from Seisen.
"I'll be arriving earlier than planned. Are you already at the port?"
Karl looked up, then typed back quickly:
"We can already see your AV approaching, Mr. Seisen."
Up above, an AV was gliding in silently, making its descent toward the landing pad.
13:50. Ten minutes early.
The AV touched down swiftly in front of them. The doors slid open—and there he was, someone the team knew well.
Arasaka Seisen stepped out, carrying what looked like a sleek suitcase.
A suitcase?
No... not quite.
Karl looked again and realized it wasn't ordinary luggage. More like a specialized container. He could hear the faint hum of internal machinery—like some kind of thermal regulator working to maintain a specific temperature.
Is there something alive in there? Karl wondered.
Judging by its size, it couldn't hold anything too big. A rabbit? A chicken? Maybe a lizard at most?
A chicken?
Smuggling chicken into Night City?
The absurd thought made Karl chuckle inwardly.
Sure, poultry was illegal in NC under health and biohazard laws. But the idea of Arasaka's hawkish heir flying across the Pacific just to bring in a rotisserie chicken was... surreal. Like an emperor using a golden shovel to grow potatoes.
Still, if it was chicken, it was probably damn good chicken. Maybe Seisen had learned from last time and decided to bring his own ingredients.
If it's a whole bird, would we boil it? Stew it? Karl thought. Roasting might work too.
His mind was racing—likely a side effect of the new neural interface. The adaptation period clearly wasn't over.
Seisen didn't waste time with pleasantries. He briefly verified that it really was Karl and the others—not Militech agents in disguise—then motioned for them to lead the way. He wanted to ride in their vehicle to Cobalt Tower.
"You're not taking your AV?" Karl asked, watching the one Seisen had arrived in begin to lift off on its own.
"That vehicle is programmed to return—and crash into the Pacific mid-route," Seisen replied calmly. He didn't elaborate.
Karl didn't press. "I see. If I'd known earlier, I would've had our AV prepped."
Under the port's persistent surveillance, the five-person crew started walking away from the Arasaka Waterfront District. Every step of their departure was being monitored—logged, reported, and escalated until it reached the current director of Arasaka operations in Night City: Hanako Arasaka.
At that moment, Hanako was busy at her desk in Arasaka Tower. When she saw the incoming report, she simply acknowledged it and set it aside.
As far as her intel indicated, Seisen's presence in Night City was expected.
He had recently suffered a significant defeat during an internal power struggle with Saburo's loyalists in Japan. His faction had been severely weakened. If he stayed in Japan, he would've faced immediate risk of assassination. Escaping to Night City was a strategic retreat.
Hanako had received Seisen's earlier request for assistance and had already extracted benefits from it. Since she had gotten what she wanted, she didn't mind his presence.
Seisen had been crushed by Saburo's political skill more than once, only to rise again each time. He had done it when he first left Arasaka, and now he was doing it again. This wasn't anything new.
As long as Saburo was alive, Seisen's rebellion would always end the same way.
In Hanako's eyes, this was just another cycle repeating itself.
What interested her more than the squabbles between her grandfather and uncle… was her daughter.
Her daughter had been attracting more supporters lately.
Still—
Hanako glanced at the cake on her desk.
Her baking had gotten better too.
So...
If that little girl really does surpass me someday—
—well, that's not bad either.
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