"Like a damn bug that's been trying to lick my ass from behind for over fifty years—and the first corp I see the moment I open my eyes again just has to be f***ing Arasaka."
"Who else could it be, Mr. Johnny Silverhand?"
Seeing Johnny suddenly calm down after spotting Arasaka Tower and slump to the ground, supporting himself with his upper body, Karl said, "So, have you figured out how to pay your debt? I think a million eddies to bring you back into the world wasn't exactly a bad deal."
"Look at me—if you find a single eddie on me worth taking, help yourself."
Johnny, visibly calmer now, muttered, "I'm a dog now. I'm not about to go busking on the street with a guitar strapped to my back."
"That might actually make some decent cash."
Karl gave it some thought. A dog singing and playing music in the street might really make a killing—though there was a good chance he'd get robbed.
Then again, maybe not. Qiuqiu's body had been modified with enough weapons that your average gangoons and street punks wouldn't stand a chance.
"But then I thought… maybe there's someone you'd want to meet."
Karl sat down next to him. "Even with all the time that's passed, some people are still around."
"What do you mean by that?"
Johnny gazed up at Arasaka Tower. "You telling me that old bastard Saburo Arasaka is still alive?"
"Nope. He died. Just yesterday—wait, no, technically the day before."
"Dead? That's the first good news I've heard since I came back. Still… way too damn late."
"Well, for once, we're on the same page there, Mr. Silverhand."
Karl was still debating whether to plug Johnny into the Net so he could access Night City when he continued, "But he's not the familiar face I meant. To be honest, I was surprised there was anyone in that chip—and even more surprised that it was you and not Saburo. For some people, that's actually great news."
"Some people? Everyone should be glad."
"Keep dreaming, Mr. Silverhand. Still, I do need to tell someone you're in the dog."
Johnny's digital instincts prickled with alarm.
Telling someone he was inside a dog? That sounded too much like someone threatening to tell the world you wet the bed as a kid.
It had been over fifty years. Who the hell could still count as an old friend in this world?
"Hey, Kerry. I've got something I want to run by you. Are you back in Night City at the villa?"
Kerry?!
Hearing Karl casually dial and drop that name sent Johnny's dog brain into a tailspin.
Kerry?
There was only one Kerry Johnny Silverhand knew.
No way… it couldn't be...
Just as Johnny's mind was racing, a familiar voice came through the call, older but unmistakable:
"You've got something to talk about? Must be important. Yeah, I'm at the villa. If you're coming, just come. I'll open access for you."
"Alright. On my way. Get ready, Kerry—this one's going to blow your mind."
Karl hung up and looked at Johnny, whose expression was stunned—both on his furry face and the projected hologram.
"Mr. Silverhand. Kerry. Ring any bells?"
"I knew every damn time that guy wanted to go out and get laid... If we're talking about that Kerry."
Clearly, Johnny still wasn't completely convinced. After all these years, to hear that name again...
"Then it's probably the one you know. Kerry Eurodyne—rockstar for nearly a century, former guitarist and vocalist of Samurai… and of course, Johnny Silverhand's best friend."
Karl gestured for Johnny to follow. "Assuming you really are Johnny Silverhand."
"You… how the hell do you know Kerry?"
"If I didn't know Kerry, and I found someone like you inside my dog, I'd have wiped the chip on the spot."
Karl scoffed. "You didn't seriously think it was your 'charming personality' that made me charge you only a million eddies, right? If not for Kerry, I'd have strung you up and beat the shit out of you for your filthy mouth."
"You can try, punk."
After the knee-jerk response, Johnny paused and narrowed his eyes at Karl.
"Who are you? Far as I remember, Kerry never made friends lightly—least of all with some punk kid who still looks like he drinks from a bottle."
"First of all, I'm legally old enough to drink. Second, milk is great and deserves respect. And third… I just made a decision."
Karl grinned. "I'm definitely putting a muzzle on you."
Before Johnny could react, his code was forcefully overridden. In his holographic projection, a muzzle appeared over his mouth, with four Chinese characters:
Speak Civilly.
Johnny thrashed wildly, trying to tear it off, but couldn't. The dog jumped, rolled, flailed—but not a single word came out.
Karl nodded in satisfaction. "Now that's more like it."
"I was wondering why you were being so patient, Karl."
V came over and picked up the dog. "If it were me, I'd have said f*** this guy hours ago."
"I'm generally a patient guy. But Mr. Silverhand's foul mouth is too much."
Karl looked up at the second floor. "Anyone want to tag along? We're heading to Kerry's."
"I'm out. Watson's locked down. I need to spend some time with Misty—maybe swing by Viktor's to talk fight club. The underground matches are starting soon."
Jack shook his head.
"I've got to order a new body for Qiuqiu. Transferring the data will take a while. Besides, I've been up all night—I'm crashing after this."
T-Bug declined too. In the end, Oliver dropped down from the second floor.
"Count me in. I've got time. How we getting there—ask the NCPD nicely at the blockade?"
"Aircar."
Karl took Johnny from V. "Faster."
"Airspace lockdown won't be a problem?"
"I got clearance from Andy. Just drive, V—don't worry."
With the plan set, the three moved quickly. Under Johnny's widened gaze, they reached the rooftop—where a luxury hovercar awaited.
So this is a flying car? One of the new models?
Johnny looked around—only now realizing they were on the top floor.
Penthouse living. Driving a luxury aircar.
Who the hell are these people?
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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