It did not mean that Carl liked to stir up fights or cause problems. Taken literally, it meant he could not sit still, always thinking about the next job as soon as the last one ended, with no sense of rest or relaxation. Other mercs would finish a well paid job and take ten days or even half a month off before feeling like working again, but Carl was different, already planning the next Contract while still on the current one.
Oliver and Jack Welles did not think this was a bad thing. Thanks to Carl's nonstop work pace, both their skills and their wallets had grown fast, which was something to be happy about. Still, people were not machines, and some rest was needed, which was why they had dragged Carl to the bar to drink today.
"Don't look so gloomy. Have a drink."
Watching Carl happily eat French Fries, Oliver raised his glass toward Jack Welles.
"Anyway, by Carl's logic, once our name is big enough to get Fixer jobs, he'll start choosing what to take. We just need to hang on until then."
"It's not that I hate having lots of work. We're mercs, after all, and jobs are better than no jobs," Jack Welles said. "I just wonder if these small time gigs can really make us famous enough for a Fixer to notice."
"You want a big score, Jack Welles? Like the first job we did?"
"A man needs something to hope for. If every job paid thirty or forty thousand Eurodollars, dying would be worth it."
Kids from Heywood always talked about death like it was nothing. Normally, only Carl would complain about that during jobs, but today was different.
"Jack Welles!"
Mrs. Welles shot him a sharp look.
"Oh, sorry, Mom."
Jack Welles quickly realized he should not say things like that in front of her and apologized. Talking this way had become a habit from spending time with Carl and Oliver, and he had not corrected himself in time.
"Say less of that kind of thing, Jack Welles."
As Oliver spoke, he received an unexpected call from his sister. She had said she would be back in Night City in two days, then kept delaying because of work, and now she had finally returned and wanted to see her brother.
"Then I'll head out first."
After saying goodbye to Carl, Jack Welles, and Mrs. Welles, Oliver left. Since he had been kicked out of 6th Street, he could not go back to Santo Domingo without trouble, but his sister could come to Watson District. He planned to meet her and take her out for a meal.
Not long after Oliver left, Jack Welles also got busy. His current girlfriend, Misty, who was also the landlord of Viktor Vektor's place, wanted to go out with him. After sending Carl a private message to explain, he made up a casual excuse to his mother and left, since she liked his ex far more than his current girlfriend and he did not want her to know about the date.
In a short time, the rare day off for the three person team turned into just Carl alone at the bar, eating French Fries. Both teammates were gone, one with his sister and one with his girlfriend. There was nothing he could really do about it.
Fine, he would just go home and keep studying hacking or watch some Braindance. At least that thing had proven it could actually help with learning.
"Thanks for the food, Mrs. Welles."
After finishing French Fries and leaving Wild Wolf Bar, Carl walked along the streets of Heywood and suddenly realized something important. Oliver, who usually drove people around, was gone, so how was he supposed to get back to Watson District? The metro was an option, but he had never taken it and was not familiar with it.
Forget it. He would take a cab.
Just as Carl was about to call one, his phone rang. A familiar name popped up, the big Contract client who had said he would only call once, yet here he was calling again. Corpo Rats were Corpo Rats, but a call still had to be answered, especially since this one paid well.
"Beep."
"I've got a job. I need one bodyguard to accompany me for a negotiation. Fifty thousand Eurodollars, one person. If you want it, be at the No Name Motel in Watson District in one hour."
The call ended right there, without giving Carl any chance to respond, arrogant to the end.
Fine. Fifty thousand Eurodollars was still fifty thousand, arrogance or not. He was a Contract client, and Carl just had to do the work.
After thinking it over, Carl decided not to bother Oliver or Jack Welles. They were finally resting and spending time with family and a girlfriend, and he did not want to make them worry. Knowing them, they might even drop everything and secretly come to back him up.
This was a good chance to test the cyberware he had just finished upgrading at Viktor Vektor's place yesterday. Aside from money spent on Braindance and hacking studies, all his recent earnings had gone into that upgrade.
Feeling the strange sensation in both arms, Carl shook them out and pressed a hand to the Arasaka tech pistol at his waist, the JKE-X 2 Kenshin. A tech pistol used electromagnetic force to push solid metal rounds to extreme speed, meant to punch through cover and walls. In front of it, ordinary Subdermal Armor was as fragile as paper, which was exactly why Carl had paid a high price for it after his earlier experiences.
Now was the time for the gun and his new arms to prove their worth together.
"You came."
"I did."
He wanted to throw out something like you should not have come, but Carl felt his Corpo Rats employer would not understand that kind of talk. After a brief greeting, he kept his mouth shut.
This was the second time he had met his employer. The first time had been rushed, and all he remembered was how overbearing she felt, but now Carl had time to actually look at her. She had worn makeup before and looked good enough, yet his attention had been stolen by the offer of a hundred thousand, so he had not studied her face closely.
Looking now, she seemed about twenty three or twenty four. Her features were sharp, with high brows and deep set eyes, short black hair and black eyes, and darker skin. On closer inspection, her face clearly showed traits of southern Eurodollars people, more precisely from Spain or Italy, what people usually called a Latin face.
Carl was a bit bad at telling white faces apart, but he could still sort people by general features. Someone like her did not feel strange at all in Night City. After all, America was built on immigration, and Night City was a meeting point for every kind of background on the west coast.
In Night City, seeing a Corpo Rats with Latin features was nothing special. Even someone claiming to be a descendant of the Mohawk would not surprise him. That hairstyle, once tied to a specific people, was popular all over the city now.
The employer seemed to be waiting for something. Even after Carl arrived, she did not move. She stood downstairs at No-Tell Motel, and without makeup or a suit, dressed only in a black coat, she did not stand out much except for being prettier than the girls by the street.
Instead, it was Carl who drew attention with his looks and merc gear. Some passing girls glanced his way, but once they noticed he was not alone, most lost interest. A few who tried to come closer stopped halfway, pushed back by the cold look the employer gave them.
Silence hung between them for a while. Either to kill time or to let her future bodyguard understand her better, she finally spoke. "My name is Blanca. During the job, just call me that."
Blanca was a common name in Spain, meaning white and pure. In Carl's memory, there had even been a wise queen from Castile who ruled in France centuries ago with the same name. Comparing that meaning to the person in front of him felt strange.