Before seeing his shadow, his voice was heard.
Clang!
Like a clear dragon's roar, it pierced the eardrums and struck the soul.
A wind rose from nowhere, scattering the documents across the office, which fluttered down like falling snow.
Johnny watched as the bullet, which should have been fatal to Jotaro, paused for a moment in mid-air before cleanly splitting in half and falling to the ground.
Then, the tightly closed door revealed a diagonal sword mark running top to bottom, before it cracked open and collapsed.
Outside the door, beneath a wide black kimono, a pair of withered, iron-like hands gripped a katana, maintaining the posture of a strike.
"Lord Yoshiteru, Lord Yoshiteru, you've come to save me, save me!"
Jotaro, whose heart had been hanging by a thread, was overjoyed to see Kirekawa Yoshiteru's old, wrinkled face. He struggled to crawl forward with his remaining arm and hugged Yoshiteru's leg.
"Get out of the way, you useless trash."
Cleanly, as if performing a ritual, Yoshiteru slowly returned the blade to its sheath. He opened a pair of cloudy, yet lion-like, authoritative eyes.
"Get out, you trash."
Yoshiteru, old and decrepit, angrily rebuked Jotaro on the ground.
"You've lost so many subordinates' lives. I originally intended to deal with you myself, but I didn't expect you to be so cowardly as to be defeated by someone outside the gang."
"Yes, yes, I'll get out right away!"
But Jotaro no longer cared about face; hearing Yoshiteru's scolding was like sweet dew to him. He smiled fawningly and crawled out of the room, slithering down the corridor like a worm.
Despite his pathetic state and complete loss of high-ranking dignity, Jotaro still struggled to survive.
It was hard to tell if this person could endure what ordinary people couldn't, or if he simply had no shame.
Johnny watched Jotaro escape but didn't go after him.
Because he felt an extraordinary aura from the old man in front of him.
The aura of a strong individual.
Although his body was withered, like an unmoving corpse, the other party stood there like a great tree, leaving no gaps to exploit.
The other party was definitely a strong individual.
Johnny had made his assessment.
In Night City, strong individuals are always drawn to each other.
Yoshiteru also felt Johnny's unusual aura.
The so-called aura isn't a subjective concept.
Simply put, a strong person's aura is a pretentious, irritating demeanor.
And if you can maintain such a pretentious, irritating demeanor for so long in Night City without getting beaten to death, it means you're a strong person.
Johnny clearly looked like the King of Pretense incarnate, so wasn't he a strong person among strong people?
The logic was that simple.
"You defeated this dog-like Jotaro, so by rights, his life should be at your mercy."
"However, despite his uselessness, he is still a Tyger Claws member. To have his life taken by an outsider would bring shame upon us."
"This old man must take the liberty of this transgression."
"Furthermore, since you have come, you must cross swords with me. To encounter a strong person like yourself and not engage in a fight, my renowned sword 'Mikazuki Munechika' would surely feel regret."
"..."
This old man said a lot of nonsense, very flowery, and hard to understand.
Johnny, relying on his meager knowledge, summarized what this Japanese old man said.
Simply put, it's either you kill me, or I kill you.
If you wanted to fight, you should have said so earlier.
Why all the unnecessary talk?
Although he had no interest in bullying an old man, especially one without cyberware, the other party seemed to have some skill, so Johnny decided to go for it.
Just defeat you, and then take that dog Jotaro's life behind you.
Johnny raised his gun.
As he moved, a sharp glint appeared in Yoshiteru's eyes.
"Good, then, I shall stake the honor of twenty-five generations of a prestigious family on this battle!"
"Please receive this, it is the secret transmission of 'Nijo In-ryu'!"
Yoshiteru once again drew his renowned sword, "Mikazuki Munechika," its cold light illuminating his withered face, every wrinkle seeming to writhe with fighting spirit, an invisible aura spreading out, impacting everywhere... "Trouble! Enemies are coming!"
On the bridge, before they could catch their breath, V clearly saw another group of Tyger Claws approaching the bridgehead, heading towards them.
This new group consisted of about eighty people, roughly three times their number.
Although their steps were casual, chatting and walking as if on an outing, seemingly not putting them in their eyes.
But precisely because of this, V dared not underestimate them in the slightest.
Anyone coming to the bridge at such a critical moment must be the elite of the elite.
In fact, she wasn't wrong.
These guys, carrying swords and showing no signs of cyberware, were Yoshiteru's subordinates, the 'Yojimbo' swordsmen of the Tyger Claws.
"That old man, seriously, we were having such a good meal, why call us to guard this bridge? Why bother putting so much effort into slacking off?"
"If you ask me, just let Jotaro's people fight it out with that Hive thing, and it'd be over. That annoying guy, who doesn't know what he's up to?"
"Enough!"
Several swordsmen, casually chewing on toothpicks and rubbing their full stomachs, were scornfully discussing Jotaro, but when their teacher Yoshiteru was mentioned, a serious voice suddenly stopped them.
"Do not question Master's decisions; it is an insult."
The leader stopped and looked back at his junior disciples. Anyone caught by his gaze immediately fell silent, not daring to speak further.
"Our deepest apologies, Senior Brother, we were out of line!"
The few who had spoken carelessly quickly apologized, showing none of their previous nonchalance.
Only then did the man withdraw his gaze and remain silent.
The Yojimbo behind him let out a sigh of relief, still shaken.
One slip-up, and they almost provoked that plague.
This man, nearly two meters tall, with a bare, muscular upper body, a face full of scars, and black hair tied into a high ponytail, was their Senior Brother, named Musashi.
Of course, this title of Senior Brother instilled more fear than respect among his fellow disciples.
Because this guy's swordsmanship was formidable, second only to their master, Yoshiteru.
If that were the only issue, it would be fine, but Musashi earned his title as the top disciple by literally killing his way to it.
In every duel, he would ruthlessly attack his challengers, and to this day, no challenger has survived his hand.
He simply killed his way up, becoming the so-called Senior Brother, though his most famous moniker among his fellow disciples was 'Oni Musashi'.
The Yojimbo often wondered if Musashi's next challenge would be Master Yoshiteru himself.
But given Musashi's unusually respectful attitude towards his teacher, it seemed unlikely.
Nevertheless, no one dared to provoke him.
After all, this guy seemed only interested in killing strong opponents; he completely disregarded weaklings like them, treating them like roadside weeds.
And now, this two-meter-tall man, like a slender giant, stood before the wary MaxTac.
He drew the katana from his waist in front of everyone, dragging it to draw a circle on the ground.
"If there are strong ones among you, step forward."
"There is only one rule: stepping outside the circle means failure, and the failed party dies."
Musashi's tone was cold and flat, utterly devoid of emotion, like a robot, but no one took him for joking.
As soon as this guy arrived, everyone seemed to smell a faint, sweet, metallic scent.
This was the smell of blood.
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