My Girlfriend’s a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew?

A sword?

Roqi had fully intended to just walk away, letting Takemura and Oda argue amongst themselves.

He glanced down at his waist—there it was. The sword he'd lifted from Saburo Arasaka's limo back at Konpeki Plaza: Kaku.

How the hell did I forget about this?

Takemura's glare was sharp and full of menace.

As Saburo's personal bodyguard, there was no way he wouldn't recognize the old man's favorite blade. Takemura didn't just see—it was as if he could pierce the darkness like a hawk.

Just as he'd recognized Yorinobu's murder in an instant, he now saw through any potential lies about this sword.

No excuse would fly. Takemura knew exactly what Roqi had.

Roqi's scalp tingled. Lying was pointless.

The breeze felt oddly cold. He touched his neck—warm. It wasn't the air. It was him, heating up under pressure.

"What if I said it's not that sword? Would you believe me?"

He turned slowly, voice flat, no trace of humor.

"Hand it over," Takemura said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

"What, I don't get a reward for agreeing to testify?"

Roqi sighed and placed his hand on the hilt.

The blend of alloy and fabric felt perfect—something a true swordsman would recognize instantly as quality.

"That's Lord Saburo's katana. His... relic," Takemura said, eyes locked on it. "This alone—I can't let you walk away with."

"But I've got it now, don't I?"

Roqi's faint smile faded.

He raised the sheath, angling the blade upward. If Takemura made a move, he'd strike.

"You dare to flaunt your theft so shamelessly?" Takemura's tone turned glacial. "Last time—I'm asking. Give me the sword."

"You know I don't want to fight you."

Roqi shook his head. "In Night City, people like you—people with principles—are rare. Even if you work for Arasaka, I don't hate you."

"But I'm not a corpo lapdog."

"The corps bleed the people dry. So if I take something from them with my own skill, why give it back? Maybe that logic doesn't fly where I'm from, but here in Night City? It's survival."

"I already told you—there's no right or wrong between us. Just different sides."

"Different sides... huh?" Takemura repeated.

Then he shook his head.

"Last chance. Give me the sword."

The night seemed to mute all background sounds.

Only two figures remained, standing off.

"Words are useless," Roqi said. "Draw."

He slowly unsheathed Kaku, blade leveled at Takemura.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Takemura drew his blade, resting it lightly at his side.

"Call it the defiance of a punk kid sick of corpo bullshit. And let's be real—you're the last person who should be asking that."

Sometimes, no explanation is needed. Once Roqi had chosen to oppose the corps, agreement with Takemura—a loyal Arasaka man—was impossible.

Clang!

Steel met steel, sparks flying in the night.

Hostility shredded the quiet facade, baring the violence underneath.

Takemura fought like a classic samurai—calm, precise. He met Roqi's assault with poise, then countered.

Simple, direct, and clean. No flair. No wasted motion. Textbook.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Roqi backpedaled, blocking rapidly.

Takemura's blade lacked flash but struck with precise timing. His speed wasn't overwhelming, but his accuracy made every attack count.

Even without cyberware, he was still absurdly dangerous.

Roqi kept pace, gradually interrupting his rhythm.

"Give it up. No implants—you can't win."

Roqi surged forward, driving Takemura back several meters.

The man's composure was unshaken. Saburo's guard, through and through.

And yet, defeating him would still come at a price.

"Still watching?" Takemura suddenly said, eyes flicking to Oda, who'd been silent by the car.

A blur cut through the dim light.

Mantis blades.

They struck the air where Roqi had just stood.

He was already airborne—four meters high.

Yokman leg mod—high jump.

Tap.

He landed a few meters away.

"DIE!"

Oda lunged instantly.

BOOM!

A sniper round tore through the air, slamming Oda's shoulder into fragments.

He staggered.

Moer.

From a distant tower, cloaked in shadow, she'd fired with a high-caliber anti-materiel sniper rifle.

Oda barely steadied himself, eyes locking on her location.

BOOM!

The ground exploded where his blur had been.

BOOM!

He zipped away, embedding his blades in the wall, climbing like a spinning gear.

"Die!"

He reached the top, ready to strike—

Only to meet directional anti-personnel mines.

BOOM!

Flames engulfed him, hurling his body back.

Roqi exhaled—then a blade kissed his throat.

Takemura.

Roqi leapt backward, then off a wall, flipping over Takemura.

"Why keep going? You can't win this."

But Takemura's eyes burned with lethal resolve.

Then, he pulled a gun.

Arasaka JKE-X2 Kenshin.

Oh fuck.

Roqi dove behind cover just as the barrel lit up.

BLAM! BLAM!

Two tungsten rounds missed by inches.

"Goddamn it..."

He gasped for air, heart pounding.

"Suzu! Talk to me!"

Wind and street noise filled his comm.

"He's right on me—I have to move!"

Gunshots interrupted.

"Don't come my way! He called Arasaka reinforcements!"

On a distant coastal road, two blurs raced.

One with Militech's Sparrow Sandevistan Mk.V. The other—Zetatech's Berserk Mk.IV with Arasaka software.

Add a Kerenzikov, and you get bullet-time carnage.

Cars flipped. Streets shattered. Civilians shredded.

Oda, though wounded, was relentless.

But the mines had hurt him. The longer the chase, the better for Roqi and Moer.

CRASH!

A lamp post, cleaved by a mantis blade, collapsed.

Arasaka HQ was still minutes away. Reinforcements would arrive in 12–15 minutes depending on alert level.

Roqi was sprinting their way.

With Takemura off his back, he and Moer could double-team the psycho samurai.

Moer flipped over cars, firing three shots mid-spin at Oda.

She smirked.

Then her HUD blared.

[Detected: Military-grade aerial unit. Model: Scorpiolion 4H. Source: Anti-Terror Response. Threat Level: High.]

A VTOL emerged from the skyline, sealing the road with its engines.

The hatch opened.

Two armored Arasaka anti-terror troops stepped out.

"Target acquired. Eliminate the threat!"

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🤖 My Girlfriend's a Cyberpsycho—Who Knew?

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