Cyberpunk: The Relentless

"Good morning, Gaius."

"Yo, good morning, David."

It was quite the coincidence today—Gaius and David happened to run into each other at the school entrance.

"7:10 AM? You're here early today, Gaius?"

After getting to know Gaius, David was well aware of his habit of cutting it close when it came to school arrival times. Seeing him this early made him a bit curious.

"I have to head to the Lizzie's Bar in Kabuki, Watson District tonight. Figured I'd get up early to prepare a few things."

"Lizzie's Bar? You mean the Lizzie's Bar, the one famous for its braindances?!"

David was clearly familiar with the name. In fact, for someone as obsessed with braindances as he was, not knowing about Lizzie's Bar would be downright strange.

"Yeah, that one."

"Gaius, are you heading there to arrange some special services for the academy crowd? But I remember no one ordered anything custom lately."

"Nah."

Gaius took a bite of his bread, slathered with real butter, and only after chewing and swallowing did he respond: "Just a personal matter I need to take care of… But you mentioning that reminded me—are you free tonight? Wanna come see some of the most cutting-edge, high-quality braindance editing in action? My treat."

"Wait, no need to pay for me!"

David checked his account balance, then thought for a moment before replying, "I was planning to send some money to my mom so she wouldn't have to work so hard. After setting aside what I need for that and for buying braindances, I should still have enough for myself. I think I can afford the trip."

"Things over there can get pretty expensive, you know. It's top-tier service, after all."

"Expensive, huh…"

David hesitated for a moment but then nodded with determination. "I can't always rely on you treating me, Gaius. I need to handle things myself too."

"That so?"

Gaius chuckled. "Well then, just remember—don't drink."

"Don't drink? What's that supposed to mean?"

David got his answer that night.

At Lizzie's Bar, as he browsed the drink menu, David's eyes widened in disbelief.

"A specialty cocktail costs 30 eddies?!"

"That's the cheap stuff, David."

Jack took a sip of his vodka, lime juice, and ice-filled personal mix of ginger beer. Hearing David's exclamation, he paused to explain, swirling his glass. "This little thing right here? Just some vodka poured into ginger beer in front of me, and they still charged me 40 eddies."

"That's why bars are bars, kid. This ain't Mama Wells' El Coyote Cojo."

Oliver smirked as he nursed a Rusty Nail cocktail. "Even this mix I copied still cost me 40 eddies."

"So, the real attraction here isn't the drinks—it's the braindances."

Karl's eyes scanned Lizzie's Bar, his focus set on one thing: waiting for the person he had arranged to meet at 10 PM.

More specifically, he was waiting for the person who had set up a meeting with Alan—the green-haired, mohawked young man who had already died.

When Karl first arrived in 2075, he had looted Alan's corpse, taking the eddies and the Lexington that had fallen from his hands. Back then, Karl had made a silent promise: If he had any family left,

Then when I have the ability to do so, I'll find them and pay back my debt.

That was why he had rented Alan's apartment and kept it intact up to this day.

To Karl, this was a debt he had to repay. If it weren't for that Lexington—now modified into Midnight—he wouldn't have been able to save Oliver by chance, nor would he have met Jack and gone through everything that followed.

Everything started with Alan's death.

He was the beginning of Karl's story in 2075. And Karl would not forget him.

Karl had searched for a long time, even reaching out to his NCPD contact, Johnson, for help. But all he had been able to learn was Alan's name—nothing more.

Tonight, however, was his best chance at finally uncovering more.

A tattooed young man had visited Alan's apartment and left a message in the visitor logs, arranging to meet Alan at 10 PM at Lizzie's Bar.

Karl was counting on this guy to give him more information about Alan.

The current time: 9:50 PM.

And right on cue, Karl saw him—walking through the entrance of Lizzie's Bar, looking exactly like the image from the visitor logs.

"I'm stepping out for a bit. You guys keep going."

After leaving a few words for Jack, Oliver, and David, Karl sat down next to the tattooed young man at Lizzie's Bar just as he took his seat at the counter.

"Mind if we get to know each other?"

Karl initiated the conversation.

"Huh? Who the hell are you?"

The tattooed youth glanced at Karl, frowning slightly. Clearly, he was wary of random men trying to strike up a conversation. "I know Lizzie's Bar has people offering those kinds of services, but I'm pretty sure they're all women. If that's what you're looking for, you should try Big Bird Round & Round instead."

[Big Bird Round & Round]: A well-known gay bar in Vista Del Rey, Heywood, primarily catering to psychological or physical males.

Karl's eyelid twitched. He nearly threw a punch at this guy over his blatantly dismissive words. Damn, this dude was as street as they come.

Restraint -1.

If he weren't worried about literally blowing the guy's head off, he would have swung.

Suppressing his irritation, Karl responded, "Alan."

"Alan?"

The tattooed youth blinked in confusion before realization dawned on him. He studied Karl for a moment before asking, "Did Alan send you? Why didn't he come himself?"

"He's dead."

"Dead?"

The young man's eyes widened in brief surprise, but almost immediately, his expression returned to indifference—like the news wasn't anything significant.

"Dead, huh? Well, that's a shame. I was actually gonna pull him in on some work this time around."

"You knew him well?"

"'Knew him well?'"

The tattooed youth gave Karl a puzzled look. "We grew up together, came to Night City together to try and make it. Of course, I knew him."

"Someone you grew up with dies, and you're this indifferent?"

"What else can I be?"

The young man let out a dry chuckle. "There were seven of us when we left home to try our luck here. As of this year, it's just me and Alan left. Surviving in this city is already tough as hell. Everyone's got their own shit to deal with. Even getting a check-in every now and then was rare. And now, well… looks like it's just me now. You get used to it. In Night City, whether you die early or late—what's the difference?"

His voice was calm, unshaken, like he had come to terms with the cruel reality long ago. Then, he turned the question on Karl.

"But what about you? I don't remember Alan having any friends. How do you know about him?"

"I'm a merc. Name's KK. I owed Alan a debt, and I wanted to repay it."

Karl introduced himself, then asked what mattered most to him.

"If you grew up together, does he have any family? Any way to contact them?"

"You trying to pay him back?"

The tattooed youth was about to say something but stopped when he saw Karl's face.

That expression—it was serious, completely sincere, without even a hint of deception.

"Yeah. I want to repay him."

"..."

The young man stared at Karl in silence for a moment, then abruptly stood up.

Karl followed suit, but all he got was the guy turning away, raising a hand in a casual wave as he walked off.

"No need to follow. Nice meeting you, KK. I can tell you're a good guy, so I guess coming to Lizzie's Bar tonight wasn't a mistake. But since Alan isn't coming, there's no point in me sticking around either. And you—there's no need to go repaying debts or anything. Just let it go."

"Let it go? Why?"

The young man stopped for a brief moment and looked back at Karl with a smile.

"Because we all came to Night City because we had no family left."

With those words, his expression remained unchanged—still smiling.

"For outsiders trying to make it in Night City, that's just how it is. But hey, I do appreciate that you even thought about repaying whatever random debt Alan left behind.

"But you know, not everything in life works out the way you want.

"Still, just knowing that someone—besides me—remembers Alan? That's pretty damn nice."

He turned back around.

"If you really don't mind, then consider remembering Alan's name as your way of paying him back.

"He always used to talk about becoming somebody big.

"Guess he didn't quite make it. But if he can at least be remembered, if his name doesn't just vanish completely…

"Then that's not too bad either.

"At least, better than me. I probably won't be around much longer either. And when I go, if Alan's name still lingers in someone's mind, well…

"That's longer than either of us lasted."

With that, the tattooed young man walked away, still smiling as he spoke so indifferently about death.

Karl stood there, frozen.

He watched the man's back for a long time before slowly resting his hand on Midnight at his waist.

"Remember, huh…?"

Yeah.

He'd remember.

"A huge thanks to Winter Icko for subscribing! Your support means a lot. Thanks for being part of this adventure!"

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