"The deceased was 32 years old, a resident of Santo Domingo, occupation—delivery driver. Family—"
"Sergeant Johnson, the cause of death has been determined. It was asphyxiation."
"Asphyxiation?"
Recently promoted from sergeant to lieutenant, Johnson turned to look at the officer handing him the report, struggling to believe the forensic departnt's findings.
He took the file and skimd through it. The report was clear—the cause of death was asphyxiation.
Johnson turned back toward the cri scene, scanning the splattered chunks of flesh and pools of blood inside the periter.
And they were saying… this guy choked to death?
"So you're telling —he suffocated first… then was dismbered?"
"That's our current assumption."
"That's… strange. If the guy was already dead, what's the point of hacking his body to bits? Or was it just a rush job to remove his cyberware? Could the perp be a Scav?"
The information was too limited.
Johnson wasn't a dedicated investigator—so for now, he just took the forensics team's findings at face value.
"Check the surrounding surveillance footage. Question anyone nearby. If it was Scavs, we might need to schedule a clean-up operation."
Just as he finished speaking, a uniford officer ran toward him, clearly in a hurry.
"Lieutenant! Sir!"
"What is it?"
"Unauthorized personnel approaching!"
"Unauthorized?"
Johnson frowned. Usually, if soone got close during an active investigation, the standard procedure was simple—tell them to back off. Why the hell was this guy reporting it like so major issue?
"There are two of them. One of them is Karl."
"Karl?"
Johnson imdiately understood why the officer ca running.
If it was Karl, that changed things.
"Alright, let him through. And the other one?"
The officer hesitated.
"I… I don't know who he is."
He swallowed nervously. "But I saw Karl nodding and listening to him."
"…Karl was listening to him?"
That… wasn't like Karl at all.
The Karl Johnson knew was loud, reckless, and—if you didn't know better—you might mistake him for an unhinged cyberpsycho.
Since when did he just stand there and quietly listen to soone else talk?
Now that was weird.
"Let them both through. I'm curious—who's the guy that Karl actually listens to?"
"Yes, sir!"
The officer turned and hurried back—not because he thought Karl would get impatient waiting.
No.
He just didn't want to keep Karl waiting.
The young officer had been there both tis Karl took down cyberpsychos. Hell, Karl had saved his life twice.
Unlike the rest of Night City, which saw Karl—KK—as a reckless rc, an absolute lunatic feared by gangs and fixers alike… this cop wasn't afraid of him at all.
In fact, he felt safer every ti he saw him.
Because he knew—this so-called nace of the underworld, this boogeyman for gangoons—was actually a decent guy.
Karl was reasonable. Karl was polite.
And to this officer, Karl represented sothing that NCPD had long abandoned—
Justice.
Not the fake, corrupt, backroom-deal type of justice the cops of Night City peddled—
But real justice.
Most people in Night City? They didn't care about justice or fairness.
Maybe they woke up in a bad mood. Maybe a broken neon sign was flickering too much. Maybe so random pedestrian walked too straight in front of them.
And that was all it took for soone to pull a gun and start shooting at strangers.
But Karl?
Karl never did that.
If Karl ca for you, there was always a reason.
And in this city, where most people died without even knowing why, that was a rarity.
Most people didn't get the luxury of dying with clarity.
They just dropped dead—never knowing who they pissed off, what rule they broke, or which psycho decided they were next.
Living in a city where you spent every day terrified that so lunatic might randomly gun you down? That was suffocating.
So when you t soone who actually had limits—who played by so kind of rules—who treated you like an actual human being…
How could that not make you feel safe?
"Much appreciated. Thanks."
Karl smiled as he nodded to the officer before stepping forward with Ken'ichiro.
They entered the sealed-off cri scene.
"Lieutenant Johnson, good morning."
"Morning, Karl."
Johnson returned the smile—a rare sight—and then turned his gaze to Ken'ichiro.
His eyes lingered for a mont on the black suit, then shifted back to Karl.
"And this is…?"
"Let's call him my superior."
Karl didn't say Ken'ichiro's na—just his role.
"Your superior?"
Johnson looked genuinely shocked.
"You're working for a corp now?"
"More like part-ti. You've heard of Danger Girls, right? The cat-eared girl detective agency?"
"Danger Girls, huh?"
As a veteran of Night City, of course Johnson knew about them.
Their reputation had faded in recent years—but back in Johnson's youth, Danger Girls was the hottest detective agency in the city.
Hell, he even bought one of their catgirl detective photo books back in the day.
"So you're here investigating. This isn't about the case, is it?"
"If you guys were actual detectives, I'd welco you onboard, but…"
Johnson's eyes flicked back to Ken'ichiro.
"You guys have cat-eared girl detectives, right? Or did Danger Girls rebrand into an old-man detective agency? Or maybe—if he takes off that suit—he's actually a cat-eared girl underneath?"
For the first ti, Ken'ichiro's expression faltered.
Only slightly.
His face remained calm, but there was the faintest twitch in his eye.
Yet, instead of responding, he simply chose silence—leaving the negotiation to Karl.
Damn, what a pro. Even after hearing that, all he did was twitch a little.
Karl internally praised Ken'ichiro's composure.
Still, he decided not to leave his temporary boss hanging for too long—
And started explaining things to Johnson.
.
.
.
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