"The Voodoo Boys have been wiped out? Where the hell did you hear that? I haven't heard a word about it!"
"Man, your news radar sucks. You really live under a rock, huh? Haven't you heard? NCPD set up a new substation right in the old Haitian zone in Pacifica. They're restoring order down there."
"I thought City Hall officially abandoned Pacifica?"
"Who knows? Maybe some ambitious cop wants to turn the place into their own personal kingdom, like Hansen did. Anyway, that's not the point. You know who the Voodoo Boys messed with this time? That's why they got wiped out."
"NCPD's there now. So it was them? Ever since that Deputy Chief Johnson took office, the NCPD's gone full assault mode. I heard they even formed some kind of special ops unit. Word is, their gear's almost on MaxTac's level. Maybe the Voodoo Boys' hacking antics finally pushed them too far?"
"I'm just saying what I heard. Not confirmed. But word is, someone spotted members of KK Squad on-site during the takedown."
"Oh, KK Squad? That explains everything. I wonder what the Voodoo Boys did to piss them off?"
Karl sat quietly at a booth in Dino's downtown bar, listening to the chatter around him. He couldn't help but think: There really are no secrets in Night City.
It had only been a few days, and already news from Pacifica had spread all the way to downtown bars. At this rate, by tomorrow morning, everyone in the city would know it was KK Squad that took down the Voodoo Boys.
Good thing he'd masked his face. If these two realized who was sitting nearby, talking about his own squad, he didn't want to imagine how they'd react.
Karl sighed and glanced at the empty seat across from him, then checked the time on his phone.
Too slow.
Dino was late.
And Karl had even stopped by Vik's this morning to get his newest neural interface installed before coming here. And Dino was still late?
Karl closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
After the Voodoo Boys were eliminated, he'd gotten his reward from NetWatch: a NetDriver Mk.1. Compared to his old Arasaka deck, it was on a completely different level. Hacking efficiency, algorithm optimization—everything was better. With this new gear, Karl felt he could run hacks and self-boosts simultaneously without breaking a sweat.
Say what you will, but when it comes to the net, NetWatch hardware is the real deal. Only the best from the pros and the corps.
Still, great gear always came with a learning curve.
The NetDriver and the Arasaka interface came from totally different ecosystems. On paper, their spy protocols might look similar, but deep down, the structure and handling were worlds apart.
It was like comparing a burger to a roujiamo. Same ingredients, sure—meat in wheat-based bread—but the texture, flavor, and prep? Totally different.
Viktor told him to take it easy for the first couple of days. Then again, Vik said that every time Karl got new chrome, so Karl wasn't sure if he was just still adjusting… or if his new processing speeds were so fast that his brain hadn't fully caught up yet.
But one thing was certain:
He was faster now. And stronger.
By his own rough estimate, if it came to a head-on confrontation, he could probably break through Chidōna's personal bodyguards in under three minutes—assuming it was one-on-one.
If it was someone more combat-focused, like Adam Smasher, Ken'ichirō, or even Goro Takemura—who Karl had seen once—then it'd be a real fight. They'd clash for a while before it came down to who had the better moves.
If we ever had to jump Adam Smasher again… no way he's taking all of us down with him this time.
Karl checked the time again. Dino was now 15 minutes late.
Weird.
Dino wasn't the kind of fixer who was always exactly on time—but if they had a meeting scheduled and he hadn't even sent a message? That was unusual. If it had been another merc with less patience, they'd probably already stormed out.
Ding.
The bar door opened. Karl looked up, expecting Dino—only to see it was just the next shift's bartender.
Karl recognized him immediately. A tall, muscular Black man.
Didn't think I'd see him again.
Even though the guy's cover had already been blown last time, he was still working here. What did that mean? Did he think Karl hadn't noticed? Or…
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, both of them locked gazes—calm, unreadable—then looked away.
Is this some contact that the New United States intentionally placed here? Or maybe he's just stuck in some bureaucratic nightmare?
Karl didn't understand why someone who gave off such a dangerous vibe would willingly play bartender in a public bar. Or how he could be so damn calm about having been exposed in front of a merc.
Not that Karl wanted to deal with the NUSA if he wasn't on a job, so he just looked away.
Still, in that brief glance, Karl noticed something new.
I can see more weaknesses now. Subtle flaws in his posture, even slight hints of his next move. Is this a trick of the mind? Or some kind of subconscious computation?
Karl knew predictive modeling could be used to guess someone's next action—but actually feeling it? That was something else entirely.
Beep.
His phone vibrated.
Dino:
Sorry, ran into a bunch of dumbass punks on the way over—some clueless out-of-towners thought it'd be smart to stop my car and try to mug me. In broad daylight. Haven't seen that kind of idiocy in a while. Just wrapped it up. Heading over now. Drinks are on me tonight. Order whatever you want.
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