Atta boy, boss—now that's how you show so spine!
Amid the approving murmurs of the Maelstrom crew, they moved in sync, raising their lee weapons and closing in on Karl.
Unlike Royce, who had fired without concern for friendly fire, these Maelstrors at least had a decent grasp of coordinated swarming tactics.
Sure, KK might be able to handle one person. Maybe two. Hell, maybe even five at once. But when weapons ca at you from ten directions—front, back, both flanks—what could anyone do?
Co on, KK wasn't Adam Smasher. He didn't have subdermal plating. If those weapons hit him, he'd bruise like anyone else—blue and purple all over.
Their logic wasn't wrong.
Karl wasn't Adam Smasher. If he got hit—anywhere but the hands—he'd definitely take so damage. But he was KK.
They weren't swarming him.
They were delivering themselves.
"You actually dared to get close to ?" he muttered.
With a soft sigh, Karl tilted his head, dodging a round fired by Royce. The bullet zipped past and slamd into the chest of a nearby Maelstrom ganger, the impact ringing with a sharp crunch of tal and flesh.
In that instant, Karl raised both hands.
When it cos to slicing tough material, wire is a brilliant tool. And in Karl's case, it was the best in the world—his signature monomolecular wire. Its edge was so fine it could pass through flesh and armor like air. Even Maelstrom goons with subdermal implants couldn't stop it.
Blood burst into the air. Limbs flew.
In a blink, Karl vanished from the center of the encirclent.
By the ti the next wave of Maelstrom goons pushed forward, stomping over the corpses of their comrades to get into position, they saw nothing but a small, active device on the ground where Karl had been.
When they recognized it, a unified scream tore through the group:
"Laser cutter grenade!"
"Correct," ca Karl's voice from above.
He was already midair—foot tapping off a vertical support beam, propelling himself even higher. Just as he cleared the area, the grenade activated, right on cue.
Karl always customized his grenades—short fuses, instant triggers. This one had been set to activate half a second after he let it go. And in that half-second, none of the surrounding Maelstrors had made it out.
The laser web burst out, carving through anything in its radius.
Already mangled bodies were sliced a second ti. Those who'd been whole got shredded on the spot. Each Maelstror who had charged in got their "reward" in the exact order they'd arrived.
As the lasers burned through flesh and synthskin, a few Maelstrom mbers on the outer edge—lucky enough not to be caught in the blast—caught sight of Karl in the air.
"There he is!"
"KK's up there—light him up!"
For hardened street gangers, the deaths of a few allies didn't slow them down. They'd expected KK to pull sothing wild. And now that he was airborne, they saw an opportunity.
In the air, there's no changing direction. He was vulnerable.
Maelstrom intel said KK had reinforced tendons—he could change trajectory once in midair. But from what they saw, he'd already burned that move to dodge his own grenade.
He'd overplayed his hand.
The Maelstrom gunners raised their weapons, tracking his falling arc. Ti to kill him before he hit the ground.
Karl, hovering at the peak of his jump, didn't panic. Instead, from this perfect vantage, he scanned the battlefield.
Royce had brought 53 n, not counting Brick, who was pinned down nearby—so 54 total. After Karl's initial assault with the wire and grenade, 44 were still standing.
Only nine dead.
No wonder these guys were the elite—Royce's personal crew. They had fast reflexes. In just half a second, they'd thrown themselves back—so even using cybernetic limbs to knock comrades out of the way to escape the grenade's kill zone.
Still, the laser grenade's radius was too small. And it had overlapped with the wire attack. Not optimal—Karl filed that detail away.
His brain was in overdrive. Two priority targets stood out.
Brick had been dragged off early in the fight, likely so Royce could "deal with him" later. That ant both Brick and his handlers had avoided the blast.
And Royce?
Karl's eyes locked onto him. Royce was falling back fast, clearly retreating after taking the first shot.
Running?
No—looked more like he was headed sowhere with purpose.
Whatever it was, Karl wasn't about to let him finish.
He took a slow, asured breath. Ti crawled in his mind.
Bullets streaked past like mosquitoes near a porch light. He raised his palm and touched a steel girder.
Factories were full of them—support beams for stability. Useless on the ground, but in the air? Perfect launch points.
With a push, he landed on a thirty-centiter-wide beam.
Ti snapped back to normal.
Clang, clang, clang!
Rounds slamd into the steel beneath his feet, pinging and ringing like twisted wind chis.
Karl ran.
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
📢 Chooms, Jack In! 📢
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