Cyberpunk Edgerunners: David Martinez With A System! [16]

In the heart of Night City, where the skyline was dominated by corporate monoliths, Arasaka Tower stood as a cold, imposing titan.

Inside one of its expansive, sterile offices—lined with walls of sleek metal and dim, artificial light—a man sat on a leather couch, his face grim as he watched a video on his tablet.

This was Tanaka Katsuo’s father.

He wasn’t just any high-ranking member of Arasaka Academy’s board of directors. No, he was a key figure in the company itself—a core manager stationed in Night City, overseeing the development and testing of Arasaka’s military-grade experimental projects.

While he wasn’t on the same level as the elite special agents or board members backed by Arasaka’s executive council, his authority was significant. He wasn’t some ordinary middle manager.

But right now, he felt like he had been humiliated.

His face was a storm of anger as he replayed the footage yet again—the moment his son, Katsuo, had been utterly degraded in public.

The audio echoed in his ears, every word slicing through his pride like a knife:

“Oh, by the way, how about Kabuki in Watson? Tanaka’s face, with a few tweaks, would probably sell really well over there…”

The voice, mocking and laced with cruelty, seemed to seep into the room like a taunting specter.

“Marcus, tell me, why did you send me a video of my son being humiliated?”

Tanaka’s voice was cold, razor-sharp with barely restrained anger. He sat stiffly in the leather chair, his hands resting on the armrests as his piercing gaze bore into the man on the other end of the call.

However, the situation was far more complex than it seemed.

Earlier that afternoon, Tanaka had received notifications from Arasaka Academy and Trauma Team about the incident involving his son. But he had been tied up in a meeting and hadn’t had the time to follow up.

It wasn’t until now that he discovered the most infuriating detail—the person who had injured his son hadn’t even been arrested by the NCPD. And now, Marcus, one of his most trusted subordinates, had sent him the video of the incident and insisted on speaking with him.

“Please remain calm, Mr. Tanaka,” Marcus said evenly. “There’s another video you need to see.”

As Marcus’s words echoed in the silent office, a second window popped up on the screen.

Tanaka’s brow furrowed. “What is this…?”

The footage showed a dimly lit, abandoned hospital. The quality was poor, likely extracted from the fragmented memories of a dead body.

“This video,” Marcus began, “was recovered from an incident at the abandoned hospital in Santo Domingo. The young man in the footage is the same one who attacked your son.”

Tanaka’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the figure on the screen.

“His name is David Martinez,” Marcus continued, his tone calm but deliberate. “Seventeen years old. Born and raised in Santo Domingo. A top-performing student at Arasaka Academy.”

He paused for a moment, as if gauging Tanaka’s reaction, before adding, “However, we recently discovered that he used a pirated device, which caused significant damage to the academy’s systems.”

Marcus leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a more somber note. “He has no father. His mother died recently in a car accident—at that very hospital, which had been taken over by Scavengers.”

As Marcus laid out every detail of David’s life, Tanaka’s expression grew darker with each passing second. The growing storm of anger on his face was impossible to miss.

“And how,” Tanaka finally growled, his voice low and icy, “does any of this concern me?”

He couldn’t care less about David Martinez’s tragic backstory. What he wanted was to drag that street rat out of whatever gutter he’d crawled into, encase his limbs in concrete, and toss him into Tokyo Bay.

A mongrel from the slums had dared to touch his son? The sheer audacity of it burned in his chest like fire.

“Mr. Tanaka, please,” Marcus interjected, his tone steady, though cautious. “I believe this boy, David Martinez, has potential.”

“Potential?”

The word made Tanaka’s eyelid twitch. His anger simmered, but he forced himself to calm down, inhaling deeply as he leaned back into his seat. If there was potential, then perhaps the boy could be of use. Everything, after all, came down to what benefited the corporation.

Relaxing into the posture of a seasoned executive, Tanaka tapped his fingers against the armrest. “Tell me,” he said coolly. “What kind of potential are we talking about?”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus nodded, his tone unwavering. “I believe David Martinez has the potential to become the next Adam Smasher.”

That name was enough to make Tanaka sit upright, his interest piqued.

Adam Smasher—he knew the name well. A relentless mercenary who handled Arasaka’s most dangerous and high-profile security assignments. A ruthless war machine, often dispatched to the farthest corners of the world for the company’s most critical operations.

Adam Smasher.

A legend in Night City. A man so ruthless, so efficient in his carnage, that Arasaka had personally chosen him as their weapon. They had stripped away the last remnants of his humanity, replacing it with the finest cyberware money could buy—the Daikyu military-grade cybernetic framework.

By the time they were done with him, there wasn’t enough organic tissue left in his body to cook a decent meal.

And yet, what emerged from that transformation wasn’t just a soldier. It was a symbol of power, a deterrent against those who dared to stand against the corporation.

Even now, his name was whispered in the back alleys and corporate boardrooms alike. A monster forged in steel and war, unstoppable and unrelenting.

If they could create another Adam Smasher, another weapon of absolute destruction, Arasaka would no longer have to fear the rise of another Morgan Blackhand.

Tanaka could already envision it—the kind of leverage this would give him within the company. If he were responsible for shaping the next legend of Night City, his influence would soar beyond just Arasaka’s Military R&D Division. He could cement himself as one of the true power players, one step away from ruling this city outright.

But…

He narrowed his eyes.

“How do you intend to prove this, Marcus?” Tanaka’s voice was measured, but the weight behind it was undeniable.

“Of course, sir. Please observe his movements carefully,” Marcus said, keeping his tone steady. “In the abandoned hospital, his attacks were precise—lethal. This isn’t something a mere student should be capable of.”

Tanaka exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “That alone isn’t enough.”

Marcus didn’t hesitate. “Understood. Then please, watch this next clip.”

The screen flickered.

Once again, the footage of his son’s humiliation played before him.

Tanaka’s expression remained unreadable, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he silently observed.

“Look closely at his movements.”

As Marcus spoke, the footage zoomed in and slowed to a frame-by-frame analysis.

Tanaka had no choice but to relive it—watching, moment by moment, as his son was beaten down, dismantled like a child’s toy.

Finally, the video paused.

The frame was frozen on David Martinez, his elbow driven into Tanaka’s son’s chest in a devastating piercing strike.

Tanaka’s eyes sharpened.

“…Accelerated perception?”

“Yes, sir,” Marcus confirmed without hesitation. “It’s unmistakable.”