V considered the possibility of recruiting Goro Takemura—
and abandoned the idea almost instantly.
Takemura was born in District 11 of Chiba, Japan—
a poverty-stricken, toxic, disease-ridden hellhole.
It was Arasaka who pulled him out of that hell, fed him, clothed him, educated him, installed high-grade cyberware in him. Later, Saburo Arasaka recognized his talent and promoted him to personal bodyguard.
From then on, Takemura's gratitude and loyalty were carved into his bones.
On normal days, Takemura was a decent guy— stiff, yes, but reliable. Cruel to his enemies, unexpectedly humorous to friends.
But all of that vanished the moment anything involved the Arasaka family.
Saburo Arasaka, Hanako Arasaka—
as long as it was them, Takemura's loyalty surfaced like an instinct.
Friendship, emotion—everything was thrown aside.
A human-shaped loyal dog.
Every admirable quality in Night City demands a terrible price.
Joanne Koch's kindness required one.
Takemura's loyalty required another.
He devoted his whole life to Arasaka—
yet Saburo's son and granddaughter used him as cannon fodder and scapegoat.
The bounty was issued by Yorinobu Arasaka.
The kill order was issued by Hanako Arasaka.
If someone like Kurt Hansen was betrayed by the ones he served, he'd flip the table and crown himself king of Dogtown.
But Takemura wouldn't.
His entire existence was built on the word "loyalty."
Without it, he was a fish out of water—
unable to live, unable to be.
V could've used him.
Saburo was killed by Yorinobu; Takemura could've been the perfect weapon against the traitor prince. As Saburo's bodyguard, he was monstrously strong.
But that sharpness went both ways.
A blade like him, mishandled, cuts its wielder first.
After weighing every risk, V decided against recruiting Takemura.
Too unstable. Too dangerous. Too much of a wildcard.
So, with some regret, she chose to carry out Michiko Arasaka's order.
She dialed a secured number, voice steady:
"Authorization code 34HGD0. Troy—deploy the Trojan. Target: Goro Takemura."
"Golden Apple received. Paris begins judgment."
The call ended.
V thought for a moment, then contacted Counterintelligence.
"Karter. Faraday's status."
"Our people are protecting him from the shadows, ensuring he repeats the 'hired by the Voodoo Boys' narrative."
"Pull them out."
"Yes, ma'am."
She cut the line.
Faraday was just a pawn meant to muddy the waters.
He didn't know much, but V didn't want to gamble.
And so, several days later, in a dirty alleyway, the four-eyed fixer collapsed behind a dumpster.
Two bullets in him, blood nearly drained.
He tried to run, but his legs simply refused to move.
He slumped down, back against the dumpster, staring up at the sky—
finally understanding he was going to die here.
He had never gotten fame, never gotten glory.
Everything had been a lie.
If he could do it over, he'd never have taken that f***ing job.
Just a simple break-in at Sapphire Tower—
how could he have known Saburo Arasaka would die inside?
Regret washed over him.
But Night City doesn't do "what if."
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Heels echoed closer.
Death approached.
A shadow fell over him.
He looked up and saw a woman in a steel mask and dark red coat.
"Kiwi… so it's you. You were watching me this whole time?"
"Yes," Kiwi said coldly. "You taught me that in Night City, trust no one."
Blue light flared in her eyes.
Faraday's neural ports spat sparks—
and he died unwillingly.
"All done?" Rebecca swaggered over with a shotgun. Her brother Pilar followed behind.
"Mm. Already notified Wakako. Car'll be here soon."
"Nice! Big payout for this one. Later we hit a bar—call Sasha and Lucy!" Rebecca laughed, hands on hips.
Pilar raised hands and legs in approval.
"Yeah, yeah—call Lucy. I've been thirsting over her for so long. Prprprpr—"
Rebecca smashed his head with a punch.
"Go ahead if you're not afraid of David punching your skull in with Gorilla Arms! I ain't collecting your corpse!"
"Uh… then I think I prefer Kiwi. Y'know, the mature type."
Kiwi's eyes glowed blue again.
"Eh?! My cannon's overheating—! Shit, it's gonna blow!"
"HAHAHA!" Rebecca roared. "Idiot brother!"
A tiny misfire—
in a city full of them.
The real main theme played far above—in Arasaka Tower.
"Troy failed," Karter reported. "Takemura's cyberware had been shutdown completely. I don't understand…"
Karter didn't.
V did.
Takemura was strong—she knew that even in her last life.
Troy's failure was regrettable, but unsurprising.
"Raise defensive levels everywhere. Track Takemura's movements."
She paused, then issued the order:
"If he's found—don't engage. Notify me. I'll handle him myself."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Karter straightened, energized.
With V taking the field, victory was assured.
But Takemura vanished without a trace afterwards.
Until one night—
Joanne Koch's urgent call came in.
"V—someone accessed my computer. That person's existence might have been exposed."
"What?!"
V shot to her feet.
"I'm not entirely sure—everything was under codenames. But if someone really wanted to… they could put the pieces together. I'm sorry, V."
"Your security clearance was downgraded. That's on me."
No point discussing blame now.
"Was it through the network?"
"Yes."
"Leave the machine untouched. I'm coming. Anyone who enters the Net—no one escapes me."
V almost took an AV—
but Koch's new place had no landing pad.
She grabbed Glaive, her Caliburn-series supercar, instead.
When she reached the lobby, Xu Zhong was already there.
"Koch-sis called me—said to protect you," Xu explained, confused.
As far as he knew, V was invincible. Why would she need protection?
V didn't explain. She simply tossed him the keychip.
"You drive. Full speed."
Xu caught it and sprinted after her.
Glaive tore through Corpo Plaza, heading south.
From Heywood's upper highway, one turn east would send them straight into Santo Domingo.
Even at 2 a.m., traffic was still thick.
Not nightlife—just Night City's brutal work hours.
"What happened?" Xu asked.
"Koch's PC was accessed. That person might've been exposed."
Xu's expression tightened.
"You know who?"
"No. But I have a guess."
"Who?"
"Goro Takemura."
"Who's he?"
"Saburo Arasaka's personal bodyguard."
"That guy scanning the room back in the penthouse?"
"Yes."
"…Shit. That uncle was strong."
"You noticed?"
"He gives the same vibe as my instructors."
Xu hesitated. "Did Tokyo send him?"
"No. Tokyo already wrapped the case. They declared Takemura the inside man. Yorinobu issued a bounty. Hanako issued a death warrant."
"Scapegoated hard… If that's the case, why not recruit—"
"Impossible." V cut him off.
"Why?"
"Because even now—he's loyal to the Arasaka family."
It made no sense on the surface—
but Xu understood immediately.
"Yeah… Japanese guys are the hardest to deal with."
"Learned from you Chinese," V replied.
"…Fair."
He exhaled.
"Honestly, I like Takemura. If not for conflicting loyalties, I'd want to be friends."
Yeah.
Friends.
V sighed softly.
She had been his friend—in another life.
Before she could say more—
A grenade clattered onto the road ahead.
Flashbang-like flare—
Except it wasn't light.
It was an EMP.
"Ugh—!"
White-hot pain stabbed through V's skull.
She spat blood instantly.
Xu Zhong reeled; Glaive's main systems fried at once.
The dashboard flickered like a slot machine before going dark.
Other cars around them swerved and crashed instantly.
"EMP! F***!"
V felt like a knife had been shoved into her brain.
"Xu Zhong—prep for—"
She never finished.
A figure slammed down onto the hood like a meteor.
"Holy s***—he jumped on at 182 km/h?!" Xu yelled.
V wasn't surprised.
She recognized him.
Takemura.
This man had jumped onto Hanako Arasaka's armored parade vehicle.
A hypercar wasn't going to stop him.
V tried to initiate a quickhack—
white-hot agony stabbed her skull.
She reached for her pistol—
but Anders Hellman's smart-aim mod had been fried by the EMP.
"Return—my lord—to me!"
Takemura spoke for the first time as his blade pierced the hood—
the tip passing right by V's cheek.
Xu jerked the wheel violently.
Takemura lost footing and was thrown off.
"Ha! Lost him!" Xu cheered.
V screamed: "Front! BRAKE!"
CRASH—!
Glaive slammed into the barrier.
The water barrels softened the impact—
but momentum sent Xu flying out the windshield.
He hadn't worn a seatbelt.
V had.
But even with restraints, her head smashed into the front glass, blood flooding her vision.
Takemura strode toward the wreckage in a black coat, sword dragging.
He sliced the door open—
A flash of steel stopped him.
CLANG!
Sword met blade.
Xu Zhong, face covered in blood, one leg twisted grotesquely, stood between them.
"Your opponent is me."
Takemura glanced at Xu's shattered leg.
Said nothing.
Shifted posture.
Attack resumed.
V crawled from the wreckage.
No signal to Arasaka.
No signal to Trauma Team.
This was a full isolation ambush.
Takemura hadn't just guessed her abilities—
someone had fed him her entire profile, provided Militech-grade EMP grenades, probably even helped him escape Tokyo.
Who?
Yorinobu?
Hanako?
Michiko?
No way to know.
But one thing was certain—they were using Takemura, not helping him.
Otherwise they'd clear his name instead of tossing him tools and pointing him at a target.
Did Takemura know?
Probably.
But he had been driven to a dead end.
No choices left.
V's head throbbed.
Her useless nerves screamed.
She felt—
weak.
Hacking was powerful, but far too easy to counter.
She had lived too comfortably recently.
She needed her real body back.
She looked toward the fight—
Xu was losing fast.
Not because he was weaker—
but because he had a broken leg.
Next time he'd remember the damn seatbelt.
V braced herself to join the fight—
A crash behind her.
A car, disrupted by the EMP, slammed into the barrier.
Half the chassis hung off the highway—ready to fall.
"AHHHH!!"
The young woman inside screamed as the car dropped—
until V grabbed her arm.
The vehicle fell, exploding below.
The girl dangled from V's grip, sobbing.
V pulled—
and failed.
Her body was too weak.
She repositioned for another try—
"V-姐!!"
Xu Zhong's scream.
V turned—
Takemura had already defeated him.
Now he charged at her, sword raised.
"F***!"
V braced herself—
but the blade, after barely cutting her skin—
Stopped.
Takemura froze.
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
He sheathed the sword—
and together, they pulled the girl up.
The terrified girl ran for her life.
Takemura stepped back several paces.
Unsheathed the sword again.
He flicked the blade upward—once, twice—
He was telling V: Stand. Fight.
"…Holy s***. A real samurai."
"V-姐!"
Xu Zhong tossed something.
Black Bar.
Takemura didn't stop it.
V caught the weapon cleanly.
"Why'd you stop earlier?"
Takemura spoke for the second time:
"Return my lord to me."
"…Got it."
V snapped open the Black Bar—
the blade extending with a click.
"Defeat me—
and I'll return Saburo Arasaka to you."
They raised their blades.
Takemura's cyberware was locked.
V's was fried.
Two crippled warriors.
Two fighters with nothing left but skill and will.
Both had reasons to win.
They charged.
CRACK—!
Lightning split the sky as steel met steel.
Takemura chopped down.
V parried, stepped in, thrust toward his throat like a striking viper.
He dodged, kicked V in the gut, spun into a sweeping slash—
CLANG!
V blocked with her forearm.
Artificial skin tore; reinforced metal stopped the blade.
Takemura couldn't cut through without cyberstrength.
He had only technique and experience.
So did V.
To his shock, V head-butted him—
hard.
Blood splattered.
The samurai staggered back.
V wasn't trained in polite dojos.
She learned to kill in alleys.
She pressed forward without mercy.
Left.
Right.
Heavy, savage slashes—
the pure brutality of someone who had survived the streets.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Takemura was forced back, sword chipping with every blow.
He finally understood—
This wasn't random brawling.
This was mastery stripped to its core.
The sword that kills is the true sword.
His master's words echoed.
"Run, Takemura," the old man had once said.
"Run when you meet someone like this."
But he couldn't.
He had nowhere left to run.
He drew a short blade and hurled it—
it stabbed into V's shoulder.
He expected her to recoil—
but she flicked the dripping blood into his eyes.
Blinded for a heartbeat.
V surged forward—
knee to the groin,
hip throw—
SLAM.
Takemura hit the ground, face twisted in pain.
V laughed.
Even injured, even bleeding harder—
her fighting spirit soared.
Like a demon king of old myths.
Takemura felt fear for the first time.
V lifted her blade slightly—
telling him to stand.
He did.
She would accept surrender.
But he rose anyway.
He had known for a long time—
he had no path left.
If so—
abandon technique, abandon reason, abandon even survival.
Fight only for victory.
He roared and struck with murderous intent.
GOOD swordsmanship.
The kind that kills.
CLANG!
Steel against steel.
Will against will.
Sparks rained.
Takemura twisted his wrist—
slipped inside V's guard—
stabbed through her arm.
Blood sprayed.
V raised the katana she'd seized—
brought it down like thunder.
Takemura dropped his own blade—
caught hers between his palms—
and flung her away with raw force.
He grabbed the fallen ninjatō and charged.
V grabbed his discarded katana and charged.
Weapons swapped.
Bodies collided.
CRACK!
Takemura's katana snapped in half.
He roared, swinging the broken blade downward—
STAB.
Metal pierced flesh.
The two froze, pressed chest to chest.
Takemura's blade hung in the air.
V's broken sword—
was buried in his chest.
The longer weapon was slower.
The broken weapon was faster.
One heartbeat decided life and death.
And the winner was—
the hand that refused to let go.
V twisted the blade—
shredding Takemura's heart.
He spat blood.
Knees buckled.
"Return… my lord… to me…"
Takemura reached out—
speaking for the third time.
V pulled the short blade from her shoulder—
and placed it into his hand.
A samurai deserves a samurai's death.
Takemura understood.
A hint of gratitude crossed his eyes.
He plunged the blade into his abdomen.
One horizontal cut.
One vertical cut.
Agony.
As deep as betrayal.
V stepped behind him.
Lifted the ninjatō.
Ended it in one clean strike.
The last samurai would hurt no more.
It was the only funeral she could give an old friend from another life.
V tossed the Black Bar back to Xu.
Straightened her blood-soaked suit.
"Come on. Koch is waiting."