Abuse of Authority

The various Towers that constitute the Arasaka Corporation operate within great latitudes and independence from Tokyo, a consequence of Bartmoss deciding to nuke the Internet with viruses and rogue AI.

Such plenary powers were intended to allow each Tower sufficient response and reactions to their territories' often-changing political and economic landscapes.

To direct every project and flex of corporate muscle would be impossible, markets rife with infighting as various factions and figures seek to carve out their own dominion.

Though you may be far from home, you are still an Arasaka, and with that name comes authority over all things bearing such; your only limitations are the fear of consequence and Michiko, who makes Night City her home.

You have avoided her for now, and she has not yet been informed about your visit to the City; you'd like to keep it that way for at least a while longer, as you still haven't gotten over the fact that grandfather compared you to her.

Since when did you fuck a borg or start a catgirl mercenary company?

No one believes her excuse that she did the latter out of a desire to carve out a new niche market and to aggrandise her various fashion enterprises.

And the less said about Smasher, the better; what was she thinking?

He's Arasaka property; of course, it would get back to Saburo!

...You've gotten off-topic; back to the matter at hand–finding your named characters amongst the pile of mediocrity and shit that is Night City's underworld.

Somehow you don't imagine you'd simply run into one of them by talking a way around the slums.

But there's a ready remedy…

You'll abuse your authority, of course!

It's not your job to overthink the technicalities of your commands, only to give them and have one of the hapless Arasaka officers, embedded in advance of your arrival or long-standing trusted loyalists, enact your will.

So when you give them names and general physical descriptions, your job is done, and theirs has just begun; starched Arasaka caps and neatly-pressed uniforms sag just a bit upon hearing your specified will.

"All this for a couple of third-rate mercs?"

The doers and gofers are not alone; for the first time in quite a while, Adam Smasher is left confounded by the actions of another; even worse, he can't pulp the perpetrator; how awfully vexing.

The small twitches in his hulking arms belie this frustration.