"Carl, I really owe you one this ti."
"It was nothing. But she probably won't recover anyti soon—you should stay by her side."
Handing the still unconscious Sasha over to the approaching Maine, Carl glanced back at Biotechnica's building, puzzled as to why no one had co after her.
According to Maine, Sasha's mission went sideways, aning she must have been discovered by Biotechnica and forced to jump from a high floor.
But even if she had jumped, it would have made sense for Biotechnica's people to co out and confirm whether she had survived or not, right?
Did they just assu she was dead?
Was Biotechnica really that careless?
Carl stared at the sealed entrance, waiting, but no one appeared.
This Italian company sure acted strange...
Maine, still worried about Sasha's condition, thanked Carl hastily before rushing off to get her treated.
He ntioned that their mission regarding Tanaka would have to be postponed for a few days.
Carl didn't mind the delay.
Biotechnica had given them a full two months to complete the job, so waiting a couple of days wasn't a big deal.
What was more pressing at the mont...
Carl glanced at the damaged car beside him.
The roof had been torn open when he made his move to save Sasha.
Now that he looked closer, he finally realized what model it was.
A Villefort Alvarado.
Ah, that explains it.
Carl had ridden in one before, so he knew exactly how soft the seats were.
In hindsight, it wasn't just his quick thinking that saved Sasha—this luxury vehicle's plush interior had also played a role.
Originally, Carl had considered paying for the damage since he was the one who wrecked the roof.
But after a second thought, he changed his mind for two reasons:
Anyone who could afford an Alvarado was either a high-ranking corpo or a top-tier gang mber. They wouldn't care about a few eddies, and Carl had zero intention of handing over his money to either.
The car's owner was already aware of the damage and had sent people to deal with it.
"Oi!!"
"You're f*cking dead, asshole!"
From down the road, three heavily modified motorcycles sped toward him.
Each was ridden by a gang mber, their jackets decorated with kanji slogans like:
"Violence Above All"
"Night's Wrath"
Tyger Claws.
Figures.
The car's owner must have so ties to them.
Carl let out a sigh, casually drawing his Kenshin from his hip.
"Yeah... dead for sure."
BANG.
A single gunshot rang out.
Carl stood motionless, sliding his Kenshin back into its holster.
anwhile, the three bikers, now sporting matching bullet holes in their heads, tumbled from their speeding motorcycles.
Their lifeless bodies skidded across the asphalt, their bikes flipping and crashing for several ters before finally coming to a stop.
Carl glanced at the aftermath.
"Tragic."
Turning Around
Glancing back at the three corpses, their bodies dragged across the ground, leaving behind three dark streaks of blood, Carl yawned.
Today had been exhausting.
Between watching braindances, getting surgery, and dealing with a shootout, he had spent far too much ntal energy.
And on top of that—he hadn't even eaten all day.
Tired and hungry.
He figured he'd grab a al, then head back ho and get so rest.
Tomorrow, he'd be back at it again.
Carl opened his ssages.
Oliver and Jackie still hadn't checked in.
Not even a single text.
Those bastards didn't even ask if I was starving.
How inconsiderate.
With a sigh, Carl decided to head back to the sa restaurant from yesterday.
And just like that, he left the scene, casually abandoning the damaged vehicle and the three corpses of the Tyger Claws behind him.
One minute later.
The owner of the vehicle received a notification.
"The n we sent... were taken out?"
A middle-aged man in an Arasaka uniform frowned, displeased as he listened to the report over the phone.
"We support your little Tyger Claw gang for a reason.
Not so you can take our money and accomplish nothing."
His cold reprimand was t with frantic apologies from the other end of the line.
Without even seeing him, the Arasaka executive could imagine the Tyger Claw mber bowing his head in submission.
Annoyed, he hung up the call.
"I can't believe I co to the Academy for a eting... and so random street thug sses with my car."
His irritation, however, didn't last long.
The Villefort Alvarado was a nice ride, sure—but not sothing worth obsessing over.
Besides, he was far angrier at the Tyger Claws for taking his money and failing to deliver results.
But even that frustration faded quickly.
Just a few minutes later, a staff mber arrived to remind him about the eting.
"Mr. Tanaka, the eting is about to begin. Please be sure to arrive within ten minutes."
"Understood. I'm on my way."
As Tanaka spoke, he was already ntally drafting a note to replace his car.
And just like that, he pushed the entire incident out of his mind.
In the grand sche of things, neither the damaged car nor the Tyger Claws' incompetence really mattered.
Arasaka business ca first.
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