"Good morning, Night City—"
The familiar voice of Stanley the announcer rang out promptly at 7:50 a.m., just as Karl sat up in bed.
Today, he'd woken up a bit earlier than usual—but considering the scheduled meeting, he was actually almost running late.
Rubbing his eyes, Karl quickly got washed up, then glanced at his phone to find a message already waiting for him:
"You awake, Karl? Want us to come pick you up?"
It was from Andy, captain of the NCPD's Special Operations Division.
Ever since Mr. Johnson took office as the new commissioner, the entire NCPD had undergone sweeping reforms. A wave of trouble followed, as corrupt officers and their gang affiliates—unable to adapt to the new order—kept stirring the pot.
With the Pacifica region recently reclaimed and a new alliance forged with the Aldecaldos of the Badlands, NCPD was stretched thin inside the city until Johnson could recruit enough new blood. Handling the chaos was proving to be a real strain, so Johnson extended an invitation to Karl and his crew—officially enlisting them as auxiliary operatives.
Given their relationship, Karl agreed to lend his name, and today was the day he'd promised Andy he'd come observe the Special Operations Division in action.
To have mercs of Karl's caliber working NCPD gigs? Even among the elite of the Special Ops, it felt like serious overkill.
Still, Karl hadn't picked up any major contracts recently, and with their newest member, Johnny Silverhand, needing hands-on experience, it seemed like a good opportunity. Karl picked an open slot in his schedule and promised to bring Johnny along. But judging by the time now... yeah, they were cutting it close. Still, if they rushed, they might make it.
V, Jackie, and Oliver had already headed off to the Badlands, Heywood, and Santo Domingo respectively. Only Johnny and Karl hadn't set out yet—but since today's patrol route was just City Center and Watson, the timing was still manageable.
"We're on our way. Be there soon."
Karl sent the reply in that classic "on my way, haven't even left yet" tone, then scanned the room for any sign of Johnny Silverhand.
Sure enough, he found Johnny sprawled on the downstairs couch—completely out cold, limbs splayed in all directions. Empty liquor bottles lay scattered around him.
Karl's eyelid twitched at the sight.
Never mind the dog-like "puddle flop" posture that was already painful to look at. Just the booze alone…
Seriously, how the hell had V and T-Bug modded him? Karl didn't know all the technical details, but judging by Johnny's body size, those bottles had enough liquid to fill him up. Unless… did they give him a damn ethanol-powered furnace or something? Considering ethanol could be brewed into lethal levels of high-proof alcohol from genetically modified wheat… maybe they actually had done something like that?
Either way, the whole scene was a disaster.
Karl had initially thought Johnny's robotic body—the rounder "doggo" form—was kind of cool. The transformation process was a bit unsettling, sure, but overall still looked decent. Now though, watching Johnny in that drunken heap, Karl couldn't help but experience a vivid mental image:
A wasted, washed-up punk rocker slumped on a couch, reeking of booze and self-destruction.
Thankfully, at least Johnny's internal liquor-processing worked. Not a single drop of booze had spilled—otherwise Karl would've made him clean it all up. As it stood, everything was neatly drunk, and the only mess was a few bottles and an unceremonious pose. Still semi-acceptable, right?
Karl was starting to realize he was lowering his standards for Johnny more and more. It made him wonder if this was exactly how Johnny had gotten spoiled back in the day.
Well, Karl wasn't about to indulge the guy just yet.
Walking over to the couch, he stood next to Johnny—who definitely didn't need sleep, but insisted on "system adjustments" at fixed "nap hours" anyway. Karl reached out and gave the sprawled-out dogbot a nudge.
No response.
So he kicked him.
"Gwak!"
A bizarre sound escaped Johnny as his systems suddenly rebooted. His dazed expression twisted as he realized he was midair—then thud, he landed on the rug with a solid thump.
"Morning, Johnny."
Hearing Karl's greeting, Johnny reflexively mumbled back, "Morning, Karl…"
Then he paused.
"Wait—did you just kick me?"
"Don't be dramatic. I nudged you."
Karl glanced at him climbing off the floor—his kick had been measured. Startled, but no brain damage.
"Let's go. Time to pay off that debt of yours. I'm supervising your work today, so no slacking."
"Work debt? Oh, right… today we're helping those NCPD assholes or whatever." Johnny grumbled. "Unbelievable. Back in my day, cops were always banging on my door, warning me to stop inciting riots at my gigs. Now I'm supposed to help them?"
He rubbed his eyes, then checked the time. "What time is it? What time did we say we'd meet again?"
"7:57. You can check the time yourself, can't you? Meeting's at 8:10. We've still got a few minutes."
"8:10, huh… wait, that's only thirteen minutes!"
"Yup."
Karl's deadpan delivery caught Johnny completely off-guard.
Thirteen minutes. They still had to get downstairs and drive over… was that even enough time? Sure, Johnny had shown up late to plenty of dates before, but this was mercenary work. Wasn't punctuality kind of important?
Still, Karl looked pretty confident.
"You ready?"
Johnny asked.
Karl nodded, "Of course. I checked earlier—Jackie and the others drove their own rides. Hera's still parked downstairs."
"We've got a car…"
Johnny's relief didn't last.
"A car?"
He stared in disbelief as Karl naturally climbed into the passenger seat and tossed Johnny into the driver's side. Johnny looked at the wheel—completely out of reach—and then at the windshield, barely visible above the dash. He hesitated.
It was obvious what was happening, but he still asked, "You want me to drive?"
"Who else?"
Karl, who never drove himself—even when traveling with a damn dog—casually reached over and buckled Johnny in.
"Go get 'em, Bruce. I mean, Johnny. I believe in you."
"You've seriously lost your mind, haven't you?"
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🔥 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS
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🔥 THE STORY DOESN'T STOP HERE. NEITHER DOES HE.
Night City breaks people every day.
Some crawl away.
Some disappear.
And some simply refuse to stop.
Cyberpunk: The Relentless has 500+ chapters ahead available for readers who want to keep going.
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⚡ NO BRAKES. NO MERCY. NO TURNING BACK.
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Every victory creates another enemy.
Every enemy leads to something bigger.
And Night City always wants another body.
🔥 500+ CHAPTERS AHEAD.
👉 Why stop now?
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