An Ordinary Day?

"Good morning, Night City!"

To the familiar voice of Night City broadcaster Stanley, Carl slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Oliver and Jack were sprawled crookedly across the sofa, bottles scattered all over the floor. She was the only one lying in bed.

"Was the TV on all night?"

Listening to that voice, Carl yawned, then rubbed her eyes again.

She had not drunk yesterday. It was just that she had done too much over the course of the day and was a little tired. While Oliver and Jack were competing over drinks, she had planned to lie down for a quick nap before getting back up to party, but after closing her eyes for just a moment, she had drifted off in a haze.

She really had been too tired.

After another yawn, Carl did not disturb Oliver and Jack, who were sleeping soundly like two dead pigs. She went into Oliver's room, into the bathroom identical to the one in her own apartment. After washing her face and barely brushing her teeth with a finger and some water, she finally felt a little more awake.

The water in Night City had a strange taste. It could only be used for washing up. If you wanted to drink it, you had to buy specially treated real purified water, and that stuff cost more than a bottle of liquor.

Still, expensive or not, she had to buy it.

After buying a bottle of Pure Water from the vending machine in the room for twenty eddies—the price of a synthetic rib-eye steak—Carl used it to rinse her mouth and spat into the trash can before finally gulping it down.

Only after draining the nearly three-hundred-milliliter bottle of purified water in one go did Carl feel the strange taste left in her mouth by yesterday's food and drinks fade somewhat.

She checked her messages. None of her recent clients had sent over any more jobs, and neither had the fixer named Faraday.

"So boring."

Looking at Oliver and Jack sleeping so peacefully, Carl resisted the urge to buy purified water and splash it on them. After thinking it over, she decided to buy breakfast for the two bastards. After leaving them a message, Carl thought for a moment and took her Kenshin Pistol before leaving the room.

In a place like Night City, you had to stay alert at all times.

Heading down to the first floor, Carl stepped out of the elevator and looked toward the food stall she had seen on her first day in 2075. She found that it had not changed much from before.

Other than Chinese cuisine having been replaced with Japanese food, and the owner having been replaced as well, it was still the same stall, and the people eating there were still the same kind of people.

Like parts in a machine, when one broke, you replaced it. As long as the machine kept running, that was enough.

She wondered when this machine would collapse entirely, when even replacements could no longer keep it going.

At the owner's stall, she bought two large sushi platters to take away, plus a bowl of ramen without meat to eat there. Sitting in the still greasy, battered seat, which now carried an even stronger scent of blood than before, Carl only hoped she could have a proper meal today.

But fate had other plans. It was as if she was destined never to enjoy a meal at this stall. Before the owner could even start cooking, gunfire rang out nearby again. This time, though, the owner had clearly learned from his predecessor. The instant the shots began, he dropped what he was doing and ducked beneath the counter.

Fine, then.

Carl gripped her Kenshin and looked into the distance to see who dared interrupt her meal. The last Maelstrom members who had dared do that had graves so thoroughly built into someone's house that nobody knew where they were anymore.

As she looked over, a bullet happened to fly toward her. The Monomolecular Wire she flicked up casually sliced it neatly in two.

She had seen plenty of samurai braindances where people used katanas to cut bullets. Compared to them blocking bullets with a katana, Carl, with the processing boost from the Militech Parallel Line Access Port in her head, found it no trouble to cut a bullet with Monomolecular Wire.

Of course, being able to do it was one thing. With Carl's current setup, she still could not face machine-gun or rifle fire head-on. She could only show off against stray bullets like these.

Carl got a clear look at the two groups exchanging fire. She could not spot any gang insignias on them. In other words...

"Street punks who could not even get into a gang?"

Night City gangs had at least some standards for recruitment. Not just anyone could join. The punks Carl was looking at might have been too disgusting even for the Scavengers. In other words...

There was no profit in killing them. It might even waste bullets.

"This damned City of Light really was something else beneath all that brilliance."

Carl had no interest in dealing with a bunch of punks who dared to trade shots using Lexingtons and disposable pistols. Besides, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the Night City Police Department had already arrived.

The Night City Police Department was not especially capable when it came to teaching gangs a lesson, but it was more than capable of beating up punks like these. Not only capable—very capable.

"Night City Police Department business!"

With an emotional roar, several Night City Police Department officers, who had finally found people they could easily beat, charged at the troublemaking punks with remarkable valor.

Although most Night City Police Department officers also carried Lexingtons, not all Lexingtons were equal. Compared with the punks' Lexingtons, which might jam after a few more shots, the Night City Police Department's Lexingtons had mostly been personally modified. Their shots rang loud and crisp, giving Carl the peculiar auditory impression of popcorn bursting in a street-side popcorn machine.

Come to think of it, it's been ages since I had popcorn. I should've gotten some before watching that movie yesterday.

Under the brave Night City Police Department officers' suppression, within minutes the troublemaking punks were either lying down or being arrested. By the time a steaming bowl of ramen was set on the counter before Carl, the matter had already been resolved.

Carl turned back and looked at the owner, who had resumed working as if nothing had happened, and at the customers who had continued eating. Then she looked again at the gunfight scene less than a hundred meters away. After a moment of silence, she looked at the ramen before her, fragrant with seasoning and enough to stir her appetite, and finally decided not to think so much about it.

Eating was important.

"Our Night City Police Department officers have once again successfully suppressed the vile actions of gang elements! Let us offer the highest respect to these brave and admirable Night City Police Department officers, who protect Night City and bring safety to its citizens!"

As the official spokesperson who had arrived with the Night City Police Department made the live broadcast, Carl felt her stomach grow uncomfortable after finishing the ramen.

Greasy ramen first thing in the morning really was too much.

Rubbing her stomach, Carl finished the ramen and picked up the two bags of sushi, preparing to head back. Then she suddenly noticed someone approaching beside the Night City Police Department's cordon, where officers were dealing with the bodies. Their head was lowered, they staggered unsteadily, and their behavior was extremely strange.

For some reason, yesterday's news instantly flashed through Carl's mind.

The Cyberpsychosis patient disappeared before the Psycho Squad arrived.