Industrial Park

Since they were going to deal with Maelstrom, they needed to make the necessary preparations, such as—

Getting a bulletproof vest for Jack, who always left his chest exposed.

"I thought you at least had bulletproof plates installed under your clothes, so you could just zip up when needed. But you're telling me that when you don't have Subdermal Armor, you don't wear a bulletproof vest at all?"

Even though they were already inside the gun store, Oliver still found it hard to understand Jack's recklessness and utter lack of caution. Viktor had reminded even first-time customers like them, so he must have warned an old acquaintance like Jack countless times. And Jack was a mercenary who understood the importance of armor, yet he still wore no protective gear at all.

"You're being ridiculous."

Carl also mocked Jack for his death wish. He could understand it in a game—characters naturally had to dress as revealingly as possible for appearance's sake. But there were two problems. First, Jack was a man. Second, this was reality now. Jack still dressed like he had in the game, which was going too far.

Carl did not know the exact story of the game, but he had a feeling Jack would suffer for this someday.

Although bulletproof vests and bulletproof plates could not compare to cyberware like Subdermal Armor and could not defend against many types of firearms, they were more than enough against basic kinetic weapons. Take the Lexington Carl used fairly comfortably: with a bulletproof vest on, even a direct hit would not penetrate too deeply. There would still be time to get the victim to the hospital.

"That's why I came with you guys, isn't it?"

Jack did not care much, but since both of his friends strongly insisted that he wear a bulletproof vest, he came along. His original plan had been to save up for Subdermal Armor and skip the bulletproof-vest stage entirely. After all, even a bulletproof vest cost a fair number of eddies.

Of course, Jack had had that plan for a long time. Every time he saved up some money, he spent it on something else, like motorcycle parts or books. The Subdermal Armor kept getting delayed, right up until now.

"While I'm getting a bulletproof vest, aren't you planning to replace your gun too, KK?"

Jack stared at the pistol on Carl's waist. "The Lexington is only used by bottom-rung NCPD cops because the people at the top are corrupt and the department has no money. You can't even shoot through the cheapest Subdermal Armor head-on with that thing."

"A pistol for the lower class? Sounds perfect for a few lower-class mercs like us."

Carl was not too concerned. When they had picked up guns from dead Maelstrom and Sixth Street Gang members before, most had either been damaged from poor maintenance or modified into such a mess that nobody else could use them. Still, there had been a few decent pieces, such as the Unity pistol made by Constitutional Arms. It held twelve rounds, packed a respectable punch, and handled well. But Carl was comfortable with the Lexington, so he had not planned on changing it.

If pistol rounds were not powerful enough, he could just use the Copperhead assault rifle. Pistols were meant to be easy to carry and to fire rapidly at close range. If he wanted raw power, there was no need to use one.

Even if he really ended up forced into a gunfight with only a pistol, Carl was confident he could send his bullets through an unprotected spot and into the target's body. He refused to believe that a few Maelstrom thugs would be wearing full-body protection.

The three bought enough equipment and ammunition at the gun store, then drove in Oliver's car toward the Maelstrom hideout listed in the client's information.

The place was in the Industrial Park in northern Watson District. It had once provided a great many jobs. Back then, in official terms, it had been thriving and prosperous. Now, however, it had become a living area for factory workers at the bottom of society.

They earned meager wages and spent seventeen hours a day doing whatever grueling work remained for people in automated factories. They did not understand that machines needed maintenance, or that maintenance costs more than human lives. They simply thanked the factory owners while working desperately, terrified of being fired.

Who could really make sense of something like that? The owners treated them as expendable supplies, yet they had to be grateful there was still work for them to do. Otherwise, their entire families would starve to death. If Carl had to comment on it, he could only say it was helpless.

What else could they do?

Should he be happy that he did not have to work himself to death supporting a family like them? Or should he feel lucky that he had no family to support, like Batman? That would be far too dark a joke.

Anyway, until Carl received a job to kill factory owners, he would just wait. If such a job really came along, he would be quite happy to take it. As for whether those workers would be unable to survive after their owners were dead, Carl could only say that he was just a mercenary.

Thinking about it that way, perhaps the reason Maelstrom had so many people constantly joining in this area was that, no matter how dangerous or insane gang life was, it was still better than factory work. Maybe quite a few of them had watched their parents struggle so hard and decided they had to make something of themselves no matter what.

"Compared to that, gangs might even have better room for advancement."

On the way there, Carl used the topic that had come to mind to chat with Oliver and Jack about it.

"That reminds me of why the Sixth Street Gang was founded in the first place," Oliver said. "Its founders couldn't stand the corporations' oppression after the war, so they formed the Sixth Street Gang to fight them. But it's changed a lot now. When I was young, I never imagined the Sixth Street Gang would shake down civilians for protection money like other gangs, or that it would start talking about connections and power within the gang."

"A gang that resisted corporations becoming more and more like a corporation. How ironic."

As Jack spoke, he suddenly realized something from Oliver's words. "Ah, Oliver, you used to be in the Sixth Street Gang?"

"To be precise, I still was yesterday. I got kicked out this morning."

Oliver casually told him how he had met Carl.

"The client specifically came to KK because they saw the surveillance footage from then."

"No, that's not what I care about. I just think it's quite a coincidence. I used to be in the Valentinos gang too, but later I left and became an independent mercenary. Now the two of us, who used to belong to rival gangs, have somehow become friends and teammates."

"You used to be in the Valentinos gang, Jack?"

This time, Oliver was surprised. But the surprise passed quickly. There was nothing strange about it. Jack's family lived over there, and the Valentinos members were so familiar with him. Thinking it over, it was obvious enough.

"Then once we finish this job, let's drink together tonight to celebrate getting out of the gangs."

"Why does that sound like you're talking about kidnapping someone?"

As Carl spoke from the side, the car's navigation system issued a prompt.

"Target is fifty meters away."

"We're here. Grab your gear."

Carl looked at the factory buildings drawing closer, eager for what was about to happen.