"Dogtown... I was just talking the other day about checking it out, and now here we are." Sitting in the driver's seat and cruising his modi
"Dogtown... I was just talking the other day about checking it out, and now here we are."
Sitting in the driver's seat and cruising his modified Hera through the roads of the Badlands, Oliver—who had taken the day off yesterday—was in a pretty good mood. "Talk about timing."
"Can't say if it's good timing or not, but I do know the pay this ti is really generous. Gotta give it our best."
T-Bug's voice ca through the comms, still tinged with disbelief when she ntioned the payout. "Six hundred thousand eddies each. I've never taken a job with that kind of reward."
"That's just five months' salary for Brown's team."
Karl didn't seem too fazed by the figure. Brown and his crew were now working as bodyguards for Kerry, pulling in 120k each per month. So 600k per person for a single gig? That was basically their five-month salary. And if he compared it to his own pay from Danger Girl each month…
"I'm not shocked by the amount."
T-Bug replied through her drone Ball-Ball. "My savings are way beyond that. But the fact that it's one job—a single job that pays 600k per head? That's 3 million total for the five of us. I've never landed anything like that."
"Correction—it's actually 2.4 million. My 600k got traded in for a monowire."
Karl pulled out a shimring strand of monomolecular wire inside the vehicle and added, "And honestly? This piece is worth way more than 600k."
"More than just worth it," T-Bug said seriously. "Have you even studied the specs on that wire? The data transfer material alone—just a single gram costs…"
"I know."
Karl cut her off. "Old Vik's shocked face when he saw it is still fresh in my mory."
"Well, no wonder! I always thought Oliver and Jackie were just exaggerating when they said you had a thing with Arasaka's princess. I figured you were just an employee or sothing. But now… are you two actually friends?"
"What else would we be?"
"Jesus, Karl... you're not secretly so rich heir, are you? That backstory of yours—was it all made up?"
As T-Bug let loose with a rare outburst, V—sitting beside Karl—cut in with a more pressing concern:
"Alright, alright. Forget the money talk for now. We got paid in full, so let's focus on the job. I'm not from around here—only heard a little about Dogtown from other nomad crews. But I know enough to say it's not the kind of place decent folks hang out. One of you locals mind explaining exactly what kind of place we're heading into?"
True to form, V was dead serious when it ca to doing the job right. And as a Night City native, Oliver offered a rundown of Dogtown's history:
"Put simply, back during the Unification War, a Militech colonel nad Kurt Hansen was ordered to invade Night City. He seized a territory in the southernmost part of the city—basically the area we now call the Pacifica Free State."
"But by the end of the war, Arasaka had stepped in. Night City beca a special independent city-state, and Militech didn't want to risk a second clash with Arasaka. So they just ditched Hansen and his n—treated them like expendable pawns."
"But Hansen wasn't having it. His troops didn't want to surrender to Arasaka, and they weren't going to crawl back to work for the sa governnt that betrayed them. So using Dogtown's terrain and Hansen's leadership, they got into weapons smuggling and trading. Built Dogtown into its own kingdom."
"Sounds like yet another ssed-up corporate move," V muttered after hearing it all.
"Yeah. But you can't expect presidents or CEOs to care about loyal grunts," added Jackie from the passenger seat. "Hansen was abandoned, but now he's doing pretty well for himself—almost like the king of his little nation. I heard even corp people have to bow to him inside Dogtown."
"Corp people answer to him?" Karl raised a brow. "Dogtown's not that big. Even if Hansen's a big shot, he can't have that many troops. And corps are fine with that?"
"Well," Jackie said, "imagine a pack of sharks circling a marlin. That marlin gets a short reprieve—not because they like it, but because no shark wants to expose a weakness and get eaten themselves. It's safer to wait and watch."
"The shark that gets wounded becos the next target... right outta The Old Man and the Sea," Karl murmured, catching the taphor.
In other words, every corp wants a piece of Dogtown as a black-market hub. They could seize it, sure—but the cost would outweigh the benefit. And once weakened, the other corps would pounce. So instead, they just let the marlin swim—for now.
"For corps, everything cos down to profit. Makes sense," Karl nodded as they approached Dogtown's outer checkpoint.
That's when he thought of sothing interesting.
"You know, doesn't Hansen kind of operate like a fixer? Not like the ones that work with rcs, but a middleman for the corps—handling shady business deals while also doing his own thing?"
"That would probably piss off Hans from Pacifica," Oliver laughed. "Fixers don't like competition. But then again, maybe Hansen doesn't even think much of Hans. Different league entirely."
Karl smiled at the comparison, and Oliver eased off the gas.
Ahead of them stood a checkpoint—guarded by soldiers in green, military-style uniforms—signaling them to stop. The group walked forward.
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