Cyberpunk: The Relentless

"This is… seriously brutal."

From the newly arrived AV, Oliver looked down at the chaos below—Militech forces crumbling under Adam Smasher's arrival. His tone was caught somewhere between awe and pity.

"Why the hell is Adam Smasher even here? Isn't he the head of security at Arasaka Tower? What's he doing out here getting his hands dirty over some minor skirmish? Shouldn't he be prioritizing Tower protection?"

"You're seriously trying to find logic in Adam Smasher's behavior?"

Jack, less sentimental, scoffed. "Everyone suspects the guy's completely lost it, and you're trying to reason out his motivations?"

"Well… I wouldn't go that far."

Karl, sitting casually inside the AV with his legs dangling outside the door, watched below. Adam Smasher wasn't even actively killing yet—he was just toying with the Militech soldiers, driving them into paranoid, infighting madness. Like a cat playing with mice.

After a moment of observation, Karl commented, "People say he's insane, but to me, it's more like his thought process is so warped it seems like madness. He still has some twisted logic—he's not totally gone."

"So… mentally unstable with a logic system no one can follow. Sounds like insanity to me."

V rested his sheathed katana in his lap and changed the subject. "Anyway, we're here to find Maine and David, right? Where are they?"

"I've already found them."

Using the cyberhound Ball as a relay, T-Bug had maintained a solid connection even in these rough conditions. Her voice came through Ball's speaker: "I've pinpointed Maine's location. Once he realized the signal was coming from me, he unlocked his coordinates himself. I've sent them to our comms."

"He unlocked it on his own? Didn't even need you to breach it? That means he's still in decent shape. Let me see…"

Karl checked the data. Then frowned.

"…No way."

He and the others glanced at the location and exchanged strange looks.

"What are the odds?"

As he piloted the AV lower, Oliver muttered, "It's the same place we did that job ages ago. Wasn't this a Wraith camp back then?"

"The same place I did my first gig with you guys," Jack added, glancing at V.

V nodded. "The 30k euro job. I remember."

Karl smirked. "Guess I know where they're hiding. First we came here to rescue a Militech engineer… and now we're back for Maine. What is this, some kind of cursed monster cave? Like some old cartoon demon lair?"

Oliver blinked. "Man, could you not use references no one understands? I didn't exactly ace school, but come on—say something from this century."

"Yeah, I don't get it either," T-Bug added. "What kind of ancient nonsense are you quoting now, corpo boy?"

"Something from the 1980s. No clue if it still exists... Anyway—coordinates locked. I'm going down."

Without hesitation, Karl pushed off the AV and leapt.

The rush of air around him drew the attention of nearby Arasaka operatives—soldiers who had just finished clearing out the last Militech stragglers and were trying to flee before Adam Smasher decided to squash them too.

They heard the wind first—eerily familiar from when Smasher landed.

They looked up.

20 meters. 15. 10...

They saw the figure falling toward them—and froze.

"Wait a second… isn't that Karl?"

Arasaka operatives knew Karl very well. More of them had seen him than had seen Adam Smasher. That black hair. That face. His reputation was etched into their memories.

"First Adam Smasher, now Karl? What the hell is this cursed-ass gig? Fuck this shit, I'm out."

The head of Counterintelligence cursed loudly—then actually tossed his weapon aside.

Of course, he wasn't quitting the job. Not with the pay and perks Arasaka was giving him—he lived like royalty in Night City. But the weapon drop? That was calculated.

Everyone knew Karl's rules.

In Night City—especially in meat-grinder departments like Counterintel—being smart was the only way to stay alive. Arasaka's psych profile on Karl was no secret: if you hadn't done anything unforgivable and he didn't already know about it, you could talk your way out—just don't point a gun at him.

Karl was more reasonable than 99% of the psychos in Night City.

Fight Karl and his crew? For a paycheck? Yeah, no thanks.

Seeing the big boss toss his gun, the rest followed.

Some dropped their weapons at their feet—just in case. Others, more terrified, tossed theirs toward the department head. Soon a small mountain of weapons was piled next to him.

He noticed.

And if these guys weren't technically from another division, he'd have fired them on the spot.

"Follow my lead, huh? I drop my gun, you all do it too? None of you have a spine? You want promotions? Then go talk to Karl yourselves—if you survive, I guarantee a raise! Don't throw this on me!"

Thud.

Karl landed directly in front of him.

He'd used his tendon-enhancement implants to blast compressed air beneath him, creating a cushion for a flawless landing.

The AV descended behind him, and the rest of the squad began to disembark.

Jack. Oliver. The whole crew.

And then…

The Counterintel chief's eye twitched.

Unlike the confused grunts behind him, he recognized the last figure.

It was V.

He'd seen him just the night before—at the Arasaka banquet. One of the few who had survived the attack.

"…Isn't that the captain of the Second Strike Team?"

And now he was walking alongside Karl and his crew?

The Counterintel chief felt a chill down his spine.

Looks like I just learned one hell of a secret…

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