Cyberpunk: 2075

"So damn boring…"

Carl sat at the counter of the Wild Wolf Bar, complaining to Mama Wells, Jackie's mother.

"We're not getting any gigs, Mrs. Wells. At this rate, we're gonna starve to death."

"No need to rush things, Carl."

Mama Wells chuckled as she set down a plate of fries in front of him.

"Not having work isn't always a bad thing. Here, try my newest batch of fries."

"Oh, these are the ones you said have seasoned salt, right?!"

Watching Carl's sudden mood swing from misery to excitement over a plate of fries, Oliver and Jackie both sighed from their seats at the counter.

It had been a week since they'd officially formed their little crew. In that time, they had taken on five different jobs, nothing too big, but enough to get by.

More importantly, they had learned a lot about Carl's personality—and if Oliver and Jackie had to describe him in one word, it would be something Carl had taught them in Chinese:

"Never sits still."

That wasn't to say Carl stirred up trouble. Not at all.

It just meant he literally couldn't stand being idle.

Most mercs would take time off after a job, especially if the payout was good. Some would chill for weeks before even thinking about their next contract.

Carl?

The second they finished a gig, he was already looking for the next one.

Dude was a machine.

To be fair, Carl's workaholic nature had its benefits.

Because of his relentless job hunting, both Jackie and Oliver had leveled up their skills significantly, and their wallets were looking heavier than ever.

That said, they were still human, not preem-tier cyberware.

So today, they'd dragged Carl here to drink and take it easy—forced him, actually.

"Come on, man. Just chill out and have a drink."

Seeing Carl happily munching away on fries, Oliver clinked glasses with Jackie.

"According to Carl, once we're big enough to get fixer contracts, he'll start being more selective with jobs. So we just gotta keep pushing until we get there."

Jackie took a sip of his drink and let out a sigh.

"It's not that I don't like taking jobs, man. We're mercs. Of course, having work is better than not having work. I just…"

He hesitated, rolling the glass in his hand.

"I just wonder—are these small-time gigs really gonna make us famous enough to get fixers to notice us?"

"You thinking about bigger jobs again? Like our first one?"

"Man's gotta have dreams, right? If every job could net us 30-40K like that one, I'd die happy."

Kids from Heywood liked to joke about death a lot.

Normally, Carl was the one who called them out on it.

But this time…

"Jackie!"

Mama Wells shot him a glare from behind the bar.

"…Shit. Sorry, Mama."

Jackie immediately apologized, realizing he had slipped. He'd gotten too used to talking like this around Carl and Oliver.

"Maybe cool it with the death talk a bit, man," Oliver added.

Right then, his phone buzzed—a call from his sister.

She'd originally planned to be back in Night City two days ago, but kept delaying it for work.

Now, she was finally here.

She wanted to meet up.

"Welp, I'm out."

After saying his goodbyes to Carl and Jackie, Oliver left first.

Ever since he got kicked out of the 6th Street Gang, returning to Santo Domingo wasn't an option if he wanted to stay out of trouble.

But since his sister was coming to Watson, he could at least meet up with her. His plan? Pick her up and grab some food together.

Not long after Oliver left, Jackie got a message too.

His girlfriend Misty, who also happened to be Viktor's landlord, wanted to go out for a walk together.

After sending Carl a quick text explaining the situation, Jackie bailed as well, making up some random excuse for his mom.

Mama Wells still liked Jackie's ex more than Misty, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that today.

In just a few minutes, the rare "day off" for their crew turned into Carl sitting alone at the bar, munching on fries.

What could he do about it?

One teammate was with his sister, the other with his girl—what was Carl supposed to do?

Whatever.

Might as well go home, study some hacking, or watch some braindances. At least those were actually proving useful for learning.

"Thanks for the fries, Mrs. Wells."

Finishing up his food, Carl left the Wild Wolf Bar, taking a stroll through Heywood's streets.

Then, something hit him—

Oliver was the one driving.

So now, how the hell was he getting back to Watson?

The subway?

Never taken it before.

Didn't know the system.

Forget it.

Call a cab.

Just as he was about to hail a ride, his phone rang.

Oh? A familiar number.

Wasn't this the big-shot corpo client who said they'd only call once?

Guess that was bullshit.

Corpo or not, they paid well, so Carl picked up without hesitation.

"I need a bodyguard. Someone to accompany me for a negotiation."

"50,000 eddies. Solo gig. If you're interested, be at the Wordless Motel in Watson in one hour."

Click.

Hung up—didn't even give him a chance to reply.

Damn.

Alright, whatever. 50,000 eddies is 50,000 eddies.

Arrogant as hell, but who cared? A client's a client.

Carl thought about it for a moment—

No need to bother Jackie or Oliver.

They finally had a day off to spend with their families and loved ones.

If he told them, they'd probably ditch everything to back him up in secret.

No point dragging them into it.

Besides—this was the perfect chance to test his new cyberware.

Over the past few days, Carl had spent nearly all of his job earnings on a major upgrade session at Vik's clinic.

Rolling his shoulders, he felt the new enhancements in his arms—a strange, but powerful sensation.

His fingers brushed against the tech pistol holstered at his waist—

Arasaka's JKE-X2 Kenshin.

A tech pistol—designed to use electromagnetic energy to fire high-speed metal slugs, piercing walls, cover, and enemies alike.

Regular subdermal armor?

Might as well be paper against this thing.

After everything that happened before, Carl wasn't about to take any chances.

Now was the perfect time to see what he—and his new upgrades—were truly capable of.