“But now, thanks to certain unavoidable circumstances, the thief has become a robber.”
V slipped through the crack in the glass, her smile tight and insincere.
“You!” The horror on Yorinobu Arasaka’s face hardened into grim resolve. He wasn’t the useless playboy the rumors painted him to be. At least now, staring down Arthur’s revolver, he could still gather his composure.
Propping himself up with both arms, Yorinobu sat back on the coffee table behind him, studying the two figures before him.
“We can cooperate. But I have news you need to hear—time isn’t on your side.” He glanced toward the lifeless body of Saburo Arasaka sprawled on the floor. “Trauma Team will be here any moment. That’s your countdown.”
His way of speaking was as strange as his accent, but his meaning was clear.
“So what? We hide behind you and walk right out? Trust me—your head’ll pop before ours does.” Arthur’s voice was low but steady. His gun, like his stare, never wavered from the man before him as he stepped closer to Arasaka’s heir.
“Friend... things may not be as optimistic as you think. My father... is he truly dead?” Yorinobu’s words were evasive, but they didn’t loosen Arthur’s grip. Still, Arthur stopped advancing, waiting for him to explain.
Meanwhile, V’s optics had already scanned the old man on the ground—no sign of life at all. “You’re bluffing? Think we can’t tell a corpse when we see one?” She fixed her gaze on him, searching his weary face for cracks. Futile.
“Time is short, so I’ll be blunt.” Yorinobu’s tone carried urgency, but neither Arthur nor V were about to trust him on tone alone.
“My friends, Arasaka is not my Arasaka... at least not yet.” His eyes flicked toward the window. “My father and I never saw eye to eye. And there’s something you don’t know: as long as he has my body—alive, or freshly dead—he can come back.
So... I’m no reliable hostage. There are people in this tower who only need my corpse.”
Through the glass, white dots streaked closer—Trauma Team AVs, rushing straight toward them.
“Friends, cooperation. The balcony outside has an emergency ladder. Not the safest option, but it’s a chance. And I can shield you later from Arasaka’s backlash.
Or... don’t cooperate. Drag me as a hostage that may not even matter, and face a wall of guns. Or let me die, and bring Arasaka’s full fury down on you.”
He spread his hands, his gaze calm on the two fugitives... looking more and more like his father.
Arthur shook his head, ready to keep Yorinobu as a hostage. He didn’t trust men like this—he’d been lied to by their kind too many times.
These people had no sense of honor. From their high seats, they treated the lives below as sport. The only time they revealed their true faces—cowardly and desperate—was with a gun in their mouths.
But a hand pressed against his chest, stopping him. Arthur turned, eyes questioning V. “Don’t tell me... you actually believe this bastard.”
V held his stare. He saw the flicker in her eyes.
Her voice was heavy, colored with restrained unease. “Remember? Not long ago... Arasaka snatched me, tried to ship me to Japan. It was all about my body.
Back then, I thought they just wanted me gone.”
“But we can’t trust him.” Arthur’s eyes snapped back to Yorinobu, voice flat.
“Relax.” V’s optics flashed with flowing data. “I’ve got the whole show recorded.”
Her gaze shifted back to the man at the table. “If he dares betray us, we’ve got leverage. Don’t we?”
That line was aimed squarely at Yorinobu.
The Japanese man’s face didn’t twitch. If anything, he looked almost relieved. Between life and death, a piece of blackmail hardly mattered.
“Good. Then we’ve found common ground. With that recording... we have the basis for trust.”
Yorinobu rose. Outside, Trauma Team’s AVs swept the apartment in searchlights. They were almost on top of them.
Arthur glanced at V. She clearly leaned toward cooperation. But between them lay a gap in understanding—
To Arthur, Arasaka was just a company. But this was a company built to wage wars.
You could only steal from it when it didn’t notice. If you ever pushed it too far, hiding became almost impossible.
V understood this all too well. Even if they made it out of this tower alive, the problem was far from over.
“Fine. Cooperation... if things go as you say.” At last, V pushed Arthur’s gun down. Her gaze was ice as she strode toward the balcony doors without another word.
“Wait.” Yorinobu’s voice called to their backs. “Give me... a bullet. As for your immediate danger, I can’t stop Konpeki’s security. But with your skills, I trust you’ll get out alive...”
Arthur didn’t even respond. He simply turned, fired, and Yorinobu’s shoulder burst red.
The sound of him collapsing rang out behind them, but neither looked back. They moved to the balcony door, careful and quick.
It slid open without resistance. News of Saburo’s death hadn’t spread. As for Trauma Team... they had their client’s details, but weren’t making them public.
The high winds screamed into the room, whipping their faces as both squinted into the storm outside.
...