The Architect of Anarchy: A Cyberpunk Crafting Quest

Adventure 1 Samurai Finale:

Stealthy Approach: The room is dimly lit, the Corpo distracted by the concert. Maybe you can lift the shard without him even noticing—get in, get out, and disappear into the chaos before anyone realizes what happened.
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It was a gamble. A long shot. But one you were willing to take.

You didn't want to kill anyone. Hell, you didn't even want to hurt anyone. The only times you ever pulled the trigger—on gangoons, on idiots at the academy—had been in self-defense. And maybe, just maybe, to prove a point. A demonstration of your craftsmanship. A warning to the arrogant. But this job?

This wasn't yours.

You weren't a merc, weren't some hired killer running the edgerunner life for creds and street cred. This was chance. Novelty. A moment in time you just happened to slip into.

Or, as you liked to call it—ninja time.

Ninja Time: D20 → 18 -1 = 17

You moved slow, making yourself small, and insignificant. Trash detail. The janitor's uniform helped, letting you blend into the scenery. The Corpo's daughter noticed you, eyes flicking toward the jumpsuit, but she barely reacted. Just another worker. Her attention snapped back to the stage as Johnny Silverhand ripped into another riff, screaming curses at the corpos, at capitalism, at Arasaka.

You almost wanted to stay and listen.

This wasn't fun. This was dangerous. Insane. A job for a merc or a fool. You were neither.

And yet… you crept closer.

Close enough to hear the Corpo's phone call.

And he was talking to your father.

"I understand your son, Senji, is a great asset, but look at it from my point of view. He's wasted at the Academy. He should be married off as quickly as possible to cement your family's position."

Your grip tightened. You didn't hear what your father said on the other end, but the Corpo sighed, shaking his head.

"You heard what he did to those gangoons. He has a taste for violence. And with a weapon from that mysterious Ghostmaker popping up in the city… put your son on a leash. We can't afford his designs falling into enemy hands. Your son found him, maybe he can be coerced into serving a higher bidder"

A cold feeling crawled up your spine.

"Did you see what our techies have come up with? They can't replicate his designs. Not even close. We've broken three trying. R&D, with their near-infinite budget, says it's impossible to recreate. So we need to find him, secure him, or—"

The Corpo exhaled. "He dies."

Nabbing the shard: D20 - 1 → 16

Your fingers ghosted over the shard in his pocket. A flick of the wrist—barely a whisper of movement—and it was yours.

Then you ran. Like a madman, pretending to be in an emergency.

Heart hammering in your chest, mind racing.

They called you Ghost. A name whispered in Arasaka's corridors now. A phantom techie whose weapons they couldn't replicate because of such precision was made. Whose craftsmanship outstripped corporate R&D.

Arasaka. One of the premiere military-industrial powers in the world.

They couldn't create something… so simple as a gun.

It made you smile, knowing that you were just that damn good.

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As you stared at the shard in your hands, you exhaled slowly. The job was done. Maybe not cleanly, maybe not how you wanted, but done. The weight of it in your palm felt… significant. More than just a data cache. More than stolen corporate secrets. You had proof your father was an asshole… and that Arasaka was trying to recreate the Killer Angel. And failing at it, hard.

Then, the payphone rang.

You closed your eyes for a moment before answering.

"Rabbit?"

The voice on the other end was cold, barely above a whisper. Weak, but not powerless. There was still something behind it, something calculated, something knowing.

"Thank you, Senji, for the work you did today. And I am sorry that it didn't entirely go to plan."

"No shit." You replied flatly. You ran a hand through your hair, pulse still hammering from the escape. "I'm keeping the access cards. Call it a bonus."

A short pause.

"Fair enough."

You could almost hear the smirk in his tone.

"Something tells me you want to know what you did. Or why you stole it."

You turned the shard over between your fingers. Studying it. Weighing it. Did you?

No.

"Not anymore." You said simply. "I heard some things that made me feel good about myself. Made me want to work harder on my… current situation."

That earned a chuckle.

"Most mercs I've worked with are shitty, stupid, or both. The fact that you continue to impress me is admirable."

A brief pause.

"A car will show up. It will ask for your name. Hand over the shard, no questions asked… and I'll make sure you're taken care of. Gear, creds, connections. Whatever you need. Whatever you want"

You tapped the payphone's receiver against your chin, mulling over his words.

"I do have a question, though." You said finally. "Who was Johnny Silverhand shooting at? And who was the girl that hugged him on stage?"

A sharp, amused exhale.

"Alt Cunningham." White Rabbit answered. "Greatest netrunner alive… at least in this damn city. Also smoking hot. I'd tap it if I could."

You snorted. "What's stopping you?"

"Johnny Silverhand."

Fair point.

"Anyway, whoever was after her might be trying again. Keep your ear to the ground, Senji."

The voice lowered and took on a weight it hadn't before.

"That kind of news? It might just rock Night City to the core."

The car pulled up. "Senji." tHe man said your name and you nodded, handing over the shard.

The car then drove away and you sighed.

Finally, this was over.

Reward: Adventure Finished.

+2 to stealth stat.

+1 to Innovation and Crafting, due to access to future tech.

Gain contact: White_Rabbit, who will serve as a net runner free of charge the next time you prepare for an adventure.

New Action available.

You have also learned that Arasaka is trying to recreate your guns, and designs but are failing misribly, because they are not you.

And are willing to do anything to… get their hands on the designer for their own… work.
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