He looked at Blanca dressed head to toe in black and thought the meaning of her name was completely reversed.
"For the task, you only need to keep me safe," she continued. "See less, say less. I do not need you involved in anything else. If you hear something, forget it. You can do that, right?"
Carl nodded quietly, putting on a truly taciturn look. He was not Oliver, and he really did not talk that much.
His silence did not stop her from talking. She shifted her weight back and forth, as if easing her nerves. "There should be about ten people on the other side. If the negotiation fails, I will brush my hair back. When you see that, kill the one talking to me, then cover my exit. Do you understand?"
"Mm."
Carl filed the information away. Ten enemies, kill on the hair gesture, protect the employer, fifty thousand pay. Simple enough.
He was not going to ask why a corporate employee had to negotiate alone and hire a merc like him as a bodyguard. Whether she had no one she could trust in the company, or this was a private matter unrelated to corporate business, he did not care.
What mattered was how many enemies there were, whether they could be killed, and how much he would be paid. With that, the job was doable. If there was one more thing to know, it was where the enemies were.
Blanca looked at Carl's calm posture, as if he did not take ten opponents seriously at all. She was about to add more reminders when a black Canopy Hera EC-D I360 stopped on the road in front of them.
The Hera EC-D I360 was the first model in the Hera line. It was so durable, easy to repair, and affordable that it nearly drove Canopy into bankruptcy, teaching the board that quality could be solid but not too solid. First produced in 2023, it was outdated by now, yet many owners still loved it and kept modifying it, so it could still be seen on the streets of Night City.
Like Oliver's Canopy Quartz EC-L R275, it was a product of the same company. These cars were usually used by the middle and lower classes, known for toughness and low cost.
Under the gaze of Carl and Blanca, the rear door opened. The back seat was empty, facing them as if inviting them inside.
Carl noticed his employer's breathing grow heavier. This was clearly the car meant to take them over.
That was fine. It beat squeezing into a two seater. Every time he rode in Oliver's car, he had to cram together with the big Jack Welles, and after Jack Welles got Subdermal Armor, it became unbearable. He had been sick of it for a while.
The employer walked to the car, and Carl followed close behind. Once inside and seated, he saw the driver turn his head, red lights glinting. More precisely, the driver turned with eight cybernetic eyes glowing red.
The look was unmistakable, a face rebuilt beyond recognition. Carl sighed inwardly.
Of course it was Maelstrom again, those lunatics who stopped treating themselves as human. Old acquaintances. He had killed so many of them he was tired of it. Could they not pick someone else for once?
No one knew what he was thinking. After the Maelstrom driver confirmed their identities, he turned forward and started the car. They headed toward the northern part of Watson District, the Industrial District, the most important area under Maelstrom control.
It seemed that besides whatever leverage they had before, this employer had something else in the hands of Maelstrom as well.
The Maelstrom vehicle carrying Carl and Blanca Morales entered the northern Industrial District of the Watson District, but it did not drive into a factory as Carl had expected. Instead, it wound through several streets and finally stopped in front of an apartment building. The location felt deliberate, not accidental, and it made him reassess what kind of meeting this would be.
Back when the Watson District had still been planned as another city center, wealthy people had built many apartments along the northern edge of the Industrial District. They believed that distance and walls could separate them from the districts where lower-level workers lived. After the decline of the Watson District and the rise of the Maelstrom, those residents moved out to avoid paying constant protection fees, leaving these apartments to factory workers who now lived in a thin imitation of a rich, isolated life.
Information about the Watson District flashed through Carl's mind, and he found himself approving of the chosen location. Compared to dark factories filled with steel and bad memories, apartment buildings were far more agreeable to him. Even without saying anything about business, just seeing sunlight outside would put him in a better mood, even if the Night City haze dulled it.
When the vehicle stopped in front of the building, the first thing Carl noticed were two Maelstrom members standing guard. Each of them held a well-maintained Saratoga SMG. Their posture was alert, but not openly hostile.
The Militech M221 Saratoga had been designed for corporate security, yet its sharp mechanical sound had become a favorite among gangs. Part of that was its low cost and how easy it was to modify, but either way, if you saw this compact SMG on the street, it was better to stay away from the person holding it. The Saratoga was not a Militech Lexington, and it was not forgiving.
Why did recalling weapon data come with judgment attached anyway. They were both Militech guns, and years ago the Militech Lexington and the Saratoga had even shared carrier-style names. By 2075, people were still comparing them like rivals.
As half a devoted Militech Lexington fan, Carl had already replaced his and left it at home, but part of his attention still lingered on his first gun. Even so, when he saw the Saratoga SMG, his hand rested lightly near the JKE-X 2 Kenshin at his waist. If these Maelstrom lunatics decided to spray bullets without caring who was inside, he would not be able to protect his employer.
The chances were low, but as a bodyguard, it was something he had to consider. Fortunately, the Maelstrom were not insane enough to slaughter business guests along with their own people. After the vehicle stopped, the two guards stepped aside and lowered their weapons outward, making a clear gesture of welcome.
"Time to get out."
Blanca Morales said only that before opening the door and stepping out. Carl glanced at the silent driver in the front seat, confirmed he had nothing to say, and followed her out. As he moved, he caught a faint sound.
It was the sound of a gun safety being switched off. The noise came from the driver's seat.
So they had already prepared to block the road if needed. Keeping his expression calm, Carl stepped to his employer's side and followed her into the four-story apartment building under the watchful eyes of the two Maelstrom guards.
After they were fully inside, one of the guards holding a Saratoga SMG walked over to the driver.
"Anything unusual about them on the way here?"
"No. That Corpo Rats looked nervous. My cyber-eye scan showed her adrenaline was high, but it seemed like simple anxiety about the negotiation, not preparation to break the deal."
"And the bodyguard with her. That kid who took out Madhead and wiped one of our Maelstrom spots, right?"
"That kid."
When speaking about him, the driver's cyber-eye flickered red. His tone turned uncertain, like he did not fully believe his own words.
"He was never tense, not even once. He knew we were driving straight into our territory, and he still stayed calm. Compared to those trash mercs who almost wet themselves the moment they get in the car, he had nerve. It is just that."
"Just that what?"