When soone refuses to listen to reason, sotis fists are the best way to get the point across. And that's exactly what Karl did.
"Jack, move aside a little."
"Karl?"
Jack, who had been trying to diate, hadn't noticed what Karl was up to until he instinctively stepped aside. That's when he saw Karl clenching his fists and Oliver holding a dical kit.
In an instant, he understood his friends' plan.
"Well, looks like my 'Patience 101 with Jack Wells' class is officially over."
"What class—?"
The half-chanical-faced man was still confused about what the big guy had just said when Karl walked up to him. His cybernetic eye flickered as he tried to scan Karl, but before he could process anything, Karl's fist smashed straight into his face.
The impact was brutal, making the man feel as if his face had caved in. His body lurched backward, completely out of control, and he nearly fell off his barstool. But before he could hit the ground, Karl "helpfully" grabbed him by the collar.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
The guy's speech was slurred, his jaw already starting to swell from the hit. He couldn't understand why so random stranger had just walked up and punched him out of nowhere.
"Nothing much," Karl replied casually. "I just didn't like the way you avoided answering my question, so I decided to beat the answer out of you."
"Wha—? What quest—"
Before he could finish, Karl's fist connected with his face again.
BAM!
"Gah—! You fuc—"
Another punch.
"Now, do you feel like talking?"
"You bas—"
BAM!
"Now?"
"You're insa—"
BAM!
The conversation—or lack thereof—continued for about ten more punches. By the ti Karl finally stopped, the once-arrogant corporate enforcer looked like a bloody ss. His organic cheek was swollen and missing a few teeth, while his cybernetic half was dented from the repeated blows.
"Damn, that actually hurt my hand," Karl muttered, shaking his fist. "This guy's face is tougher than it looks."
"You... y-you didn't even ask anything..."
Karl raised an eyebrow. "I didn't ask?"
The guy weakly nodded, blood dripping from his lips.
"You didn't ask..."
BAM!
"Then why the hell didn't you just answer anyway?"
The half-chanical guy was too dazed to process logic at this point.
"I—I..."
The half-chanical-faced man was now completely convinced—this guy was a cyberpsycho. All he wanted was to get the hell out of this bar and run back to the company as fast as possible.
This place was way too dangerous. Who knew that a simple field investigation could go so wrong?
Beep, beep, beep.
Just as he was about to take a few more punches before being thrown out of the bar, Karl's communicator rang.
"KK, I've got a job for you. I think you'll be interested."
The fixer, Faraday, finally had a gig for him.
Now that work had arrived, Karl had no ti to waste on so corpo errand boy. He knocked the guy out with one final punch and let Jack handle the cleanup, dragging him out of the bar like garbage. Then, Karl took the half-empty bag of fries Oliver had been holding and placed it in front of Old Freight.
"Eat sothing. Don't worry, if you ever run into this kind of shit again, just co find at the Aldecaldo Bar. Asshole corpos like these? I'll gladly take care of as many as needed."
Karl grinned. "As long as you keep coming here and giving Wells' mom your business, we're all good."
Old Freight's lips trembled slightly as he stared at Karl's genuine smile. Then, after seeing the sincerity in his eyes, he gave a firm nod.
There wasn't much he could say. When soone like Karl—soone willing to stand up for the little guys—appeared, words of thanks just didn't seem enough.
Unlike the rotting corpse that was Night City, this kid was young, full of life, like soone who had never been tainted by the filth around him.
A warmth so rare in this city... sothing to be admired.
Karl returned to his seat with Oliver and Jack.
"I honestly thought you'd hit him a few more tis. And I can't believe you actually shared your fries."
Oliver looked at Karl with genuine surprise, but Karl responded with absolute seriousness.
"Got a job to do—no ti for more punches. As for the fries... well, I've always believed that good food can heal the soul. That's why I'm so picky about what I eat. The guy's already injured, nothing wrong with giving him a few fries to cheer him up."
"Besides, these are the best fries in Night City, right?"
Jack smirked, and Karl nodded in agreent—though he still shot Jack an annoyed look.
"If you had stepped in earlier, I wouldn't have had to do anything."
"If you had taken any longer, I probably would've started throwing punches myself. I was just trying to gauge how hard I'd need to hit."
Karl knew Jack wasn't lying—when he arrived, Jack already had his fists clenched, ready to jump in.
"Whatever, forget about it. Next ti, we just beat the crap out of them on sight. Anyway, Faraday sent a job offer. Let's check it out."
Karl shared the job details with Oliver and Jack before looking through them himself.
None of them bothered reading the description at first. Instead, they scrolled straight to the bottom, looking at the paynt.
Oliver's eyes widened as he let out a shocked exclamation.
"Three hundred grand?!"
"Is that eddies?!"
Jack was equally stunned.
"Yeah, it's eddies, alright."
Oliver's excitent faded as his face turned serious.
"This is definitely a job that could get us killed."
For a fixer like Faraday to offer a job worth 300,000 eddies, he was probably pocketing at least the sa amount. aning this was really a 600,000 eddies gig.
And any job that expensive...
Was guaranteed to be a death trap.
Whether it was ant to kill the fixer, the client, or the rcs taking the job...
They had wanted a big job.
And now, it had arrived.
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