Chapter 724

In Reid’s eyes, the young man struck him as… strange from the very first glance.

It wasn’t his clothes that felt out of place—the black ballistic jacket pressed into a faint crease where the sheathed katana slung across his back dug into it, the scabbard patterned with dark designs, too ornate for a battlefield. He looked less like a fighter and more like a fragment of an ukiyo-e woodblock torn out of time.

Nor was it the face—features too finely cut, the kind you could only buy in Night City for fifty thousand eurodollars and the right back-alley ripperdoc.