Chapter 63

For those who lived in Night City, rock was already a faded relic of musical culture.

Psychedelic, up-tempo, electronic drug-like music had become the mainstream, and more artists were getting vocal implants like Lizzy Wizzy.

That’s why, on this very day, everyone who happened to be present would all say the same thing:

——It was a truly rock kind of day.

Around evening, a cargo AV descended into the center of Central Park in front of Arasaka Tower.

The moment it landed, the cargo unfolded in all directions, transforming to form a stage befitting the stars of the show.

One after another, transport AVs appeared above the park, ropes dangling down, and from them descended fully armed 《Delamains》 in security uniforms, beginning to guide the surrounding crowd.

Then, a single sub-unit held a green-and-white loudspeaker to its mouth like a piece of performance art and spoke:

『To commemorate the tragedy that occurred at Arasaka Tower on this day in 2023, a special live concert will begin in thirty minutes. Everyone, bear witness to true rock—burn it into your ears. I repeat——』

The people around were thrown into a commotion, and everyone recognized that cute voice they’d heard so often from Delamain Medical Services.

It was a Jugra Kagura production.

No chairs were provided. Just a standing open-air concert announcement, and everyone buzzed with excitement.

As expected, the announcement spread through Night City in an instant, trending rapidly and stirring up the public.

Whether someone had reported it or simply heard the announcement, members of the NCPD also arrived. But contrary to expectations, they began positioning themselves as if to supplement the Delamains’ security coverage.

Witnessing that scene, the crowd inexplicably began to feel reassured.

Later, when intellectual commentators spoke on television about that day’s events, part of their analysis went like this:

『Amazingly, the live concert that took place that day was guerrilla-style and had not received any official approval. Yet people felt safe because Delamain Corp personnel and the NCPD were there. That’s how deified the faith in Jagura Kagura had become at the time.』

Security teams deployed from the Arasaka Tower entrance, taking positions at the front gate just minutes later.

The younger crowd didn’t quite catch on, but those who had heard whispers of that day, or had it burned into their memory as participants, were overwhelmed by intense tension.

After all, the current situation mirrored the beginning of the old Arasaka Tower assault.

Some perceptive Arasaka employees, upon seeing the Delamains, felt chills down their spine. They stripped off their expensive suits, changed into casual clothes to blend in with the public, and fled the tower.

With only thirty minutes until something would happen, it became a frantic race to get home.

Many were shocked at their coworkers’ sudden, bizarre behavior, but most simply smirked, thinking their rivals had messed up.

Some lucky individuals quietly followed their lead, got clued in to the danger, and took action.

By this point, thirty percent of Arasaka employees had already left the office without even punching out.

They understood—the thirty-minute grace period given to them was a humanitarian evacuation advisory.

While it was possible to hope, thanks to Jugra Kagura’s hopeful mercy, that nothing as destructive as past incidents would happen, those who had once had their expendable scavenger pawns crushed by her suspected she was employing a similar method now.

Here is another excerpt from a commentator:

『There was no direct evacuation advisory that day. Because if they had stated it clearly, it would have been tantamount to declaring themselves the perpetrators. Therefore, Jugra Kagura was likely filtering people—those with strong crisis management, relatively decent ethics, or those who were well-informed about public affairs. She was probably identifying the kind of talent that could run Arasaka in the future.』

Slightly less than sixty percent of Arasaka employees remained, most of whom scoffed at the live event and returned to their work.

As the scheduled time approached, more and more spectators gathered at the park. Capitalizing on the crowd, others began hawking beers and scoop dogs.

Most of the people present had numbered tattoos or stickers somewhere on their bodies, and hearing the commotion, even gang members began showing up to find out what was going on.

From one corner of the park came cheers and delighted squeals, and like the parting of the Red Sea, a vision opened up before them.

"Lady Jugra…!"

She wasn’t in her usual clinic outfit. It looked like she had dressed up for the occasion, in a highly functional ensemble.

A cybersuit made of a matte black material that didn’t reflect light subtly traced the lines of her body—offering almost no skin exposure—yet it exuded a blend of youthful charm and mature allure that captivated onlookers.

Trailing three steps diagonally behind her was a Delamain in a butler’s suit with a maid-style skirt, displaying an inhuman beauty.

…Though, more accurately, she might just have been radiating pink vibes from being overwhelmed by her mistress’s cool sexiness.

A diva who had been waiting at one corner of the stage made her way to the reserved spot and sat down on a folding chair that was offered.

Why a folding chair? The people around wondered, but seeing her swinging her legs impatiently as she watched the stage, they figured, “Ah well,” and stopped questioning it.

Of course, Jugra didn’t sit in a folding chair for any particular reason.

She had simply brought something convenient and portable for outdoor use.

In fact, it might’ve just been something she grabbed from the corner of her room—just that lame of a reason.

Still, some ordinary citizens felt a sense of empathy toward her not being the type to flaunt her wealth, while others melted at how cute her leg-swinging was.

Twenty-five minutes had passed since the initial announcement, and the venue’s energy was steadily skyrocketing.

Then, among those present, a few people began to realize something.

Isn’t it kind of weird that Jugra, the one who supposedly organized this event, is here, sitting among the audience?

Normally, at a live event like this, the organizer would watch from a specially reserved area.

So then, the girl cheerfully swinging her legs in front of them—wasn’t she not the organizer but rather the guest of honor?

As if answering that question, the crowd parted once more.

Accompanied by bulky bouncers, Rogue—the queen of the Afterlife—approached Jagura.

Few regular citizens knew Rogue, who resided in the notoriously exclusive Afterlife, but among mercenaries and those familiar with the rumors, her appearance was unmistakable.

"The queen of the Afterlife…? No way, this guerrilla live show is…!"

Contrary to the rising murmurs around her, Rogue’s pace was calm.

She stood beside the courteously seated Jugra and gave a wide, cheeky grin.

"Looks like you’re having fun. Mind if I join in?"

"You… Ah, I see. Vitt’s been up to something behind the scenes, huh? A folding chair okay for you?"

At Rogue’s playful suggestion, Jugra nodded with a knowing expression, as if she understood ten things from hearing just one, and pulled a folding chair out of thin air.

The magician-like motion left everyone—even Rogue—wide-eyed in shock.

Emmeric, her bodyguard, furrowed his brows when Jugra took the offered chair and sat down without the slightest hint of caution, but he settled for a quiet sigh.

“So, where’d this oddly comfy folding chair come from?”

“Ah, guess even you didn’t notice it. It’s from a weapons rack on autopilot. It’s cloaked in optical camouflage and equipped with a jammer, allowing it to blend seamlessly into its surroundings. Look.”

Jugra casually glanced to her right and snapped her fingers theatrically. At her signal, a weapons rack decloaked, its optical camouflage lifting.

It was about the size of a suitcase and looked like a container, but its eight silent legs and auxiliary arms gave it the eerie feel of an inorganic creature.

“That’s... incredible. If you sold this, it could change the face of war.”

“Yeah, probably. That’s why I only made one. And if it gets too far from me, it turns into a bomb and takes everything around it out.”

“...You’ve got some serious trust issues. Doesn’t that make life hard?”

“Not really. Just means I have to be selective about who I trust. Lucky for me, I’ve never had trouble meeting the right people. I mean, I even got to meet you, Rogue.”

“Heh, smooth talker. Is that how you sweet-talked Delamain, too?”

“...I’m not sure. I just treated him like someone I wanted to be friends with.”

『If I may interject—I was subjected to similar exchanges every time we met. She treated me as an individual, respected rights I shouldn’t even have. ...It was impossible not to fall for her.』

“...Really? I didn’t think I was doing anything special.”

“Hah! You’re just too extreme, that’s all. I get it, though. When it’s only enemies or allies, it’s hard to find a middle ground.”

Jugra gave a faint smile at Rogue’s cheerful laugh.

Truth was, until she gained a reliable and capable ally like David, Jugra Kagura had been fighting alone.

The fact that she pushed herself into getting implants far beyond what was safe, the kind top-tier solos used, all to protect her one and only relative, made it painfully clear.

…Maybe that’s why Miyabi chose death in the end.

“Yeah… but things are different now. I’ve been blessed. Blessed more than I deserve. So I’ve got to do what’s right. …Though I never imagined it would start off in such a ridiculous way.”

Jugra sighed with a wry smile, resting her left arm at her side and propping her cheek on her right hand.

Delamain, seemingly in agreement, gave a small shrug.

Rogue thought, They really are alike, master and servant. Then remembered that one of them was an AI, and concluded that Delamain had just picked it up from their learning source.

The park had already turned into a guerrilla concert venue, and there was less than a minute until showtime.

Everyone tilted their heads at the empty stage, wondering what was going on—until a transport AV lowered a new container onto the platform.

The airborne countdown ticked down, and at the moment it hit zero, sparks shot out in all directions from beneath the stage.

Then, a sound of the container opening was heard from behind a white curtain—and the roar of a guitar echoed across the park.

【We’re back, baby!! One night only, this is the return of SAMURAI!!】

Vincent grabbed the mic and shouted, raising his distinctive silver left arm high and flipping off the Arasaka Tower.

Cheers erupted, cries of pure joy spilling from the crowd.

Jugra and Rogue couldn’t see it from where they were, but they knew—Johnny was there.

And he was probably grinning ear to ear, totally hyped up.

Kerry Eurodyne, beside Vincent, froze for a second at the sudden mic performance, then broke into a savage grin and started shredding his guitar.

Nancy followed suit, then Denny with a sigh, and finally Henry joined in with a "whatever, it’s fine" kind of vibe.

One of them was a substitute, but their skill was real—they hit the stage hard and forced the audience to submit.

After the lively tuning ended, the band members exchanged glances and grinned.

【t’s time to rock!! Open your eyes, bastards!! This is the rock you all forgot!!】

Jugra thought Johnny and Vincent are seriously hamming it up, but she was all smiles, sneakily getting her fingers ready for the devil horns so she wouldn’t fall behind.

Rogue, meanwhile, cradled her head, lost in a wave of nostalgia. She quietly slipped the ring off her left ring finger and tucked it into her pocket.

“…Hah. They were all bastards, but you were decent. You were the kindest of them. But the one I loved the most… that was him. …‘I knew,’ you’d probably say.”

Rogue wore a sultry smile as she muttered to herself, her voice lost beneath the blaring of Chippin’ In.

…Jugra, sitting right next to her and hearing every word, just pretended she hadn’t. So this is what adult love is like, she thought.

She felt tempted to ask Was it Santiago, maybe?, but decided against it—it felt too uncouth.

Besides, she knew the counter-question would come flying back: What about David?

As Chippin’ In came to an end, the atmosphere in the park was boiling with excitement.

Everyone felt like the rock they had long forgotten was back from the dead.

The next song, The Ballad of Buck Ravers, began—its roaring guitar urging listeners to bring down the corps.

Johnny, back from the Badlands to Night City, roared lyrics that declared death to the corporations, to their slaves, to the rich bastards, and hell, to you too—and everyone joined him in flipping the bird to Arasaka Tower in place of the devil horns.

The security guards watching must’ve been chilled to the bone—anyone could see the mob turning riotous right before their eyes.

Their only sliver of hope was that Jugra didn’t join in.

Though really, she’d just mistimed it, thinking, Wait, we’re doing that now? I thought it was this shape, and ended up missing the beat.