"Coming here was straight-up, brain-dead stupid!"
Watanabe glared at the three ex-Arasaka operatives, barely holding back the urge to crack open their skulls and see if they were filled with sludge.
"You get critical intel and instead of calling for backup, you run to me? You've blown my cover! Do you know how long I've worked to become our patron's hidden blade inside HQ? I haven't even delivered results yet — and now I'm compromised thanks to you! Absolute idiocy!"
His voice shook with rage as he berated them — former classmates from the same training camp, now standing on different sides of the battlefield.
"That senile bastard Kenichiro's on his way. And with the power he holds in this rotten city, even if he offs us right here, our patron won't be able to say a damn thing. You've failed — completely and irrevocably."
"No need to lose your head, Watanabe-kun."
Unlike the furious Watanabe, the three men stood calm — collected. One of them stepped forward, gaze steady.
"You don't understand what we've got. You don't see how critical this is. What I have here — this single piece of evidence — will expose the truth about that corrupt traitor. When our patron sees this, every ounce of misguided sympathy will vanish. Loyalty will be rewarded. Betrayal punished. And order will return."
His eyes gleamed — fanatic and cold.
"If our patron finally cuts off the sentiment, accepts that the traitor won't change — the path opens. No more arrogance from defectors. No more hungry dogs sniffing around the throne. The purge begins — and our true heir, loyal to the vision, will take the stage."
"He'll return. And everything will burn clean."
Watanabe blinked — thrown off by the intensity. The man's voice, filled with reverence, brought him pause. His fury wavered. A flicker of doubt passed through his gaze.
"You… really found something that big?"
"Bigger than you think, Watanabe-kun."
Bigger than I think…
What the hell could be that important?
Watanabe didn't want to believe it — but something about their eyes made him reconsider.
To them, the traitor survived because the patron still held on to family ties. But if this evidence forced his hand… if it truly made him act — disown blood and wipe out a rival faction...
Then maybe...
His anger faded. He looked at his former classmates again, now calculating.
"How long until our people arrive? Can we move the package before that old fossil shows up?"
"All our agents broke cover the moment this came in. They're already en route. This isn't fluff — it's the core."
The man in the center tapped his chest — a slip of paper hidden beneath his vest — and met Watanabe's eyes.
"This is it, Watanabe. Time to show where your loyalty lies."
"If this really can take the traitor down," Watanabe said slowly, "I'll give everything for our patron."
Then his eyes dropped — right to the man's chest.
"But how do I know you've got what you say you do?"
The words were plain. But his body said more.
His gaze didn't move. Fixed, locked on that vest.
He wanted to see it. See the proof. The "core intel" that could end everything.
"Watanabe, you're doubting us?"
The carrier of the intel frowned and leaned back. The other two rose to their feet, sharp-eyed, hostile now.
"This isn't for you to see."
Watanabe stood as well. But instead of stepping back, he stared them down.
Their reactions said it all.
He swept his gaze over them, cold as ice.
"It's not that I don't have clearance — it's that you three want to hog all the glory."
"What did you say?!" "You've got some nerve!" "You dare question our loyalty?!"
Now they were the ones boiling over.
Watanabe? Stone calm. Eyes half-lidded. Dangerous.
"I never doubted your loyalty," he said flatly. "But—"
His hand rested on the desk.
"I've been buried in this op for years. Now I'm exposed because of you. If it's for the cause, fine — I'll burn with it. But you don't even let me see the damn evidence? Can't help but wonder—"
His hand slipped under the desk. Fingers closed around a pistol.
"—if you've seen me as nothing but a stepping stone from the start. Planning to take all the credit and leave me to rot."
His voice cracked louder.
The tension went nuclear.
The air turned to glass — brittle, ready to shatter.
None of them moved. Just stares. Breaths. Twitching hands.
Then — a flicker of recognition passed between the three.
They folded.
Ideally, they'd keep the prize to themselves — but clearly, Watanabe wasn't going to let that happen.
"No need to be so tense, Watanabe-kun," said the one in the middle, offering a strained smile. "We were classmates, weren't we?"
"If you want in, we're willing to share the glory and—"
CRASH!
The office door exploded inward.
At the same time, the ventilation duct clanged open with a metallic screech.
The four men — still caught mid-negotiation — didn't even get to turn around before they heard stone cracking above and below them.
And then, with the shit-eating grin of a man who'd heard everything, Karl dropped in.
"Afternoon, boys."
"So… what's this precious little thing you're all fighting over? Mind if I take a peek?"
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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