Cyberpunk: The Relentless

"Tanaka's movements… Maine's crew already got a lock on him?"

Oliver, fresh from his braindance session, whistled in appreciation. "No surprise. A squad with three netrunners? That kind of speed is expected."

"Well, technically, they don't have him yet," Karl corrected. "What they do have is a lead—Tanaka regularly orders custom-made black braindances. So Maine came up with an idea: instead of hunting Tanaka directly, why don't we find the BD editor making his stuff and lure him out?"

Oliver grinned. "A trap, huh?"

"Yeah. And as it turns out, we're in luck. The BD editor in question?" Karl smirked. "A guy named JK."

Oliver blinked. "Wait. That JK?"

"Yep. The same JK responsible for those cyberpsycho BDs I keep showing up in. Didn't really plan on going after him specifically, but… looks like fate handed him over on a silver platter."

"Alright, so what's the plan?"

"Simple. These customized BDs aren't ordered through any normal store—they're arranged through private, in-person meetings between the client and the editor. Since Tanaka's movements are heavily restricted by Arasaka security, we just grab JK, take his place, and bait Tanaka into meeting us alone."

Oliver frowned. "And you're sure he'll come alone? No guards?"

"Come on, man. Even porn BDs have private rooms—you really think a corporate suit like Tanaka wants his dirty kinks public? Corpo execs care way too much about appearances. He'll show up alone."

Jack leaned back in his seat. "Alright. So, have Maine's guys found out where to find JK yet?"

"They're still working on it."

Just as Karl finished speaking, a voice from the back seat chimed in.

"If it's JK, then his real name is Jimmy Kurosaki."

Karl, Oliver, and Jack all turned to look at David.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "You know a lot about him?"

David shrugged. "I've watched all of his BD series."

Karl smirked. "Of course. You do deal in black-market BDs, so I guess that makes sense."

Oliver nodded. "That makes things easier. If this guy's a well-known BD director, then he's not exactly hiding in the shadows. Shouldn't take long for Maine's team to track him down."

And sure enough—just as David was getting dropped off at his apartment, Karl's comm pinged.

Maine: We've got Jimmy Kurosaki's schedule. He'll be hitting up a club tomorrow night. We'll handle the extraction.

Karl grinned.

A reliable team made everything easier.

"Looks like things are coming together," he muttered.

With that, Karl bid farewell to Oliver and Jack, then headed home to his apartment.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he sat down at his rented desktop terminal, bringing up Night City's local net.

As he skimmed through the latest headlines, something unexpected caught his eye.

A news article.

Not about Night City.

But about Nomads.

[Nomads]: A scattered people, bound by family, wandering the Badlands to survive.

The news article about the Nomads read:

"The Bakker clan, a notorious band of outlaws in the Badlands, is once again facing internal conflict. Perhaps the very group that has troubled New America's Route 43 supply lines for so long will finally disappear due to their division. This, of course, would not have been possible without the tireless efforts of New America's soldiers..."

Karl skipped over the propaganda nonsense that followed—empty words meant to glorify the corporate-controlled military. His attention was fixated on just one thing.

Bakker.

For some reason, the name felt familiar. Like he had heard it before.

He couldn't place it yet, but he mentally bookmarked the article. Something told him it was worth looking into later.

Shifting his focus, Karl browsed through the latest updates in Night City.

"**Following negotiations between Arasaka and Militech, it has been confirmed that the recent ACPA incident was orchestrated by a rogue former Militech executive. The individual, a former head of Militech's R&D division, attempted to reignite war in Night City for personal gain.

Militech has since taken appropriate disciplinary action, reaffirming its commitment to maintaining peace. The successful diplomatic talks between Arasaka and Militech have once again ensured stability in Night City.**"

Karl smirked.

So the fall guy finally made it to the news cycle, huh?

Judging from the narrative, it seemed like Militech caved first.

That mission… both corps had blood on their hands.

Arasaka's forces led the assassination.

Militech provided the ACPA unit.

Arasaka security handled protection.

Militech hired freelancers—including Karl's team.

Arasaka's hawks led the assault.

Militech pilots operated the ACPA.

A perfect web of deniability, tying everything into a clean resolution.

Knock. Knock.

Just as Karl was about to call it a night, a knock echoed through his apartment.

At this hour?

He quickly tapped into his door camera feed.

A man in a black suit stood outside. Mid-40s. Not particularly muscular, but Karl immediately noticed the cyberware beneath his tailored sleeves.

Asian features. Golden-yellow optics staring directly into the camera.

Karl didn't recognize him.

Someone new. And someone dangerous.

Ignoring the continued knocking, Karl calmly slipped on his armored jacket, holstered Seraph, clipped on a few grenades, and grabbed his backup Crusher shotgun from his stash.

Six seconds later, fully geared up, he finally answered.

"Who's there?"

The voice through the door responded plainly.

"You may call me Ken'ichiro… Mercenary KK."

Karl's eyes narrowed.

A Japanese name?

After a brief pause, Karl moved to the door.

He unlocked it and swung it open, facing the stranger.

"What do you want?"

That was Karl's first question as they officially met.

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