The Architect of Anarchy: A Cyberpunk Crafting Quest

Meanwhile, With Mom

(Sakura Masamune's POV)

Everything was going to be fine.

Sakura repeated those words like a mantra, slowly clenching and unclenching her fist as she gazed down at the neon-drenched sprawl of Night City from the seat of her private jet. Below, the world moved in slow motion—traffic lights flickering like dying embers, corporate towers casting long, predatory shadows, and the streets crawling with the ever-present chaos of a city that devoured the weak and rewarded only the ruthless.

Her son—her foolish, naive son—had no idea what he was doing.

She had underestimated him. That much was clear. She had expected youthful defiance, expected him to lash out, to throw tantrums like a spoiled brat too entitled to realize how good he had it. But this? This was something far more dangerous.

Senji had actually listened to his father. Believed his sob story. Fallen for every carefully placed word, every lie woven together in a pathetic attempt at redemption. The thought of it made her stomach churn with disgust. The man she had once called her husband was a relic, a ghost wrapped in outdated ideology and obsolete cybernetics. And yet, somehow, he had managed to manipulate their son into aiding him—under the guise of repairing his failing body.

But even that wasn't the worst of it.

No, the true problem wasn't Senji's misplaced sense of familial duty. It was the iron-clad contract he had forced his father to sign. A legal trap so elegantly constructed that even she had to admire the cunning behind it. A warehouse. Multiple properties scattered across the city. All secured under airtight legal loopholes that transferred ownership to Senji's allies, effectively cutting her out of the equation.

That was when she realized something far more troubling.

This wasn't simple rebellion.

This was preparation.

Senji wasn't just acting out—he was carving his own path, severing ties from the family, from the company she had spent her entire life building. He was maneuvering himself into a position where he would no longer need her.

No longer need Arasaka.

A slow, controlled exhale left her lips as she folded her hands together, her nails pressing lightly against her skin.

She would not allow it.

She had dragged herself up from nothing, crushed every obstacle in her path, and molded this company's policy and profits into something truly worthy of the future. She had sacrificed too much to let a petulant, idealistic child jeopardize everything she had built. Everything she had prepared for him so that he may become the most powerful man in the world.

The jet began its descent.

Her fingers curled once more, this time with purpose.

Everything was going to be fine.

The moment the wheels touched the private Arasaka airstrip, her personal security detail flanked her. Silent. Efficient. They understood her mood without needing words. As she strode toward the armored transport waiting for her, a holo-display flickered to life inside the vehicle, filling the dim cabin with shifting faces—the heads of Arasaka's Night City division.

Her subordinates.

Her pawns.

Her problems.

She scanned their profiles, each file brimming with detailed reports—recent decisions, expenditures, personal loyalties, and, most importantly, potential liabilities.

Hana Takahashi – Director of Special Projects
Status: Kept. Monitored.
Hana was an opportunist, but she was also the best cybernetics specialist Arasaka had outside of Osaka. Her research into prototype augmentations had led to massive breakthroughs, and her ambition, while dangerous, was manageable. So long as she remained useful.

Reizo Nakamura – Head of Night City Security
Status: Transferred. Quietly.
Nakamura had grown comfortable. Complacent. The recent failures had all happened under his watch. Worse, he seemed to believe that loyalty alone could outweigh competence.

A mistake.

She tapped his profile. A discreet request was sent to Osaka HQ. Nakamura would find himself promoted—to some far-flung corporate outpost where he could do no further harm.

Aiko Matsuda – Public Relations Chief
Status: Liquidated.
Aiko's influence in the media had been adequate—until now. The recent leaks regarding Arasaka's clandestine operations had been spun, but not buried. That was unacceptable.

A soft chime confirmed a standing kill order. By sunrise, Aiko would be nothing but a tragic headline.

Daichi Fujimoto – Head of Corporate Espionage
Status: Kept. Given new directives.
Daichi had a reputation for efficiency, and that was exactly what she needed. His department would be redirected toward a new priority: Senji Masamune.

The message was simple.
"I want everything. His movements, his contacts, his weaknesses. Find out who he thinks are his allies and turn them into vulnerabilities."

Daichi's confirmation was immediate. He did not ask why. He never did.

One file remained unopened.

The regional director of Arasaka Night City operations—the man whose mismanagement had allowed all of this to spiral into chaos.

Hideo Arakawa.

She stared at his image for a long moment. Arakawa was old, cautious, slow to act when ruthlessness was required. Worse, he still held faith in his own relationships to keep himself alive.

He believed she could be bargained with.

Sakura exhaled sharply. That kind of sentimentality had no place in Arasaka.

She tapped his file.

A message was sent.
"Clean house."

She was going to enjoy one last night of vacation… before she made her final preparations.

-------------------

She wished she hadn't.