Dare to cause trouble?

Chapter 39 17. Dare to cause trouble?

"Adding the ten thousand Eurodollars reward from the NCPD, I have over sixty thousand Eurodollars in savings. Buying real meat cost ten thousand, and the car was thirty-one thousand. In the blink of an eye, I'm down to twenty thousand."

Sitting in the Afterlife bar, which was practically his base now, Karl counted his remaining Eurodollars and felt poor again.

"You still have twenty thousand. I'm down to a few hundred."

Oliver said, "After buying a Midnight Arms SOR-22 kinetic precision rifle and installing Nanoweave Fibers, my savings are wiped out."

Midnight Arms SOR-22: A powerful semi-automatic rifle, built for the military. It has no embellishments, is simple and deadly. Although this heavy rifle, which is quite suitable for charging into battle, requires good endoskeleton and muscle bundles to withstand its force, its powerful firepower is enough to satisfy anyone.

Nanoweave Fibers: Synthetic muscle fibers.

As he spoke about his near-empty account, Oliver glanced at the SOR-22 leaning against the bar, his eyes filled with satisfaction. Clearly, this weapon, originally made for soldiers, appealed to the former Sixth Street Gang member.

"My savings aren't as much as Karl's, but I still have some."

Jack, who was drinking on the side, glanced enviously at Oliver's weapon and said, "It's just that I still need a certain amount to save up for the cyberware and weapons I want."

"I think you should add a motorcycle to that list, after the cyberware and weapons."

Karl chewed on the fries Mrs. Welles had brought over and said, "Jack, haven't you always wanted to buy an ARCH motorcycle?"

"I need money for that, brother."

A rare look of distress appeared on Jack's face. "To be a big shot, you have to take on jobs of sufficient weight, but without enough weapons and cyberware, you can't handle those big jobs. The motorcycle will have to wait."

"There will be jobs, Jack. There will be jobs."

Karl stared at the Fixer Faraday's number in his contacts, feeling that this Fixer was unreliable.

They gave them a small job for testing, but haven't sent any since. They won't even give a straight answer about whether they can handle things, which is a real headache.

Just as Karl was thinking about taking on some of Hizashi's regular small jobs, a rather noisy commotion came from a table not far from them. When Karl and the others turned their attention to it, they saw a man smashing a bottle over the head of another man sitting opposite him.

Clang!

The sound of the bottle breaking was quite crisp in the daytime bar. Almost instantly, the entire bar fell silent, and everyone's eyes turned to the table where the incident had occurred.

"Can you do it or not, you bastard? Give me a straight answer, stop hesitating."

The man who had smashed the bottle over the other man's head looked to be in his early twenties, about the same age as Jack. He was wearing a jacket, and half of his face was covered in mechanical implants. The expression made by the combination of metal and flesh seemed quite impatient.

Karl didn't recognize him; he probably wasn't a regular at the Afterlife bar. But he did recognize the man opposite him, whose head was bleeding, his scalp pierced with shards of glass, yet he didn't dare to cry out in pain.

He remembered that the man was a driver who ran a business in Heywood, often coming to the Afterlife bar for a drink after work. He was in his fifties, and people called him Old Hauler, meaning an old man who often hauls goods.

In Night City, a fifty-year-old running goods on the streets could indeed be considered an old man.

"What's going on here?"

The Afterlife bar was, after all, his mother's bar, so Jack naturally had a reason to stop the dispute. He immediately stood up and walked towards Old Hauler. Karl gave Oliver a look, and Oliver understood, following Jack. Karl first poured the fries from the plate on the table into the small plastic bag Mrs. Welles had given him, then walked over, eating the fries.

The freshly fried crispy fries would get soggy if he ate them too slowly.

By the time Karl arrived, Jack's conversation with the half-faced mechanical man had given him a rough idea of what was happening.

Simply put, the half-faced mechanical man was a field investigator sent by Militech, and he was investigating the freight situation in Heywood. Old Hauler had happened to run the route from Heywood to the municipal center these days, so he came to ask Old Hauler for clarification, but Old Hauler was vague and couldn't explain anything clearly.

"Old Hauler was running routes for Militech?"

"No, he just ran related routes, and had no contact with Militech."

Hearing Oliver's answer, Karl felt a little confused.

"Since it's not Old Hauler's responsibility for losing Militech's goods, and the company should be asking him nicely since the problem is on their end, why has it turned into the company personnel taking action and demanding Old Hauler hand over information?"

"That's just how company people are. To them, Old Hauler is just some guy running around on the streets, not important at all. Naturally, they'll do whatever's easiest."

"So, this is a threat, right?"

Threatening with the power of the company behind them.

Karl looked at Old Hauler, who had done nothing wrong but had been smashed over the head for not being able to explain himself clearly, bleeding non-stop but not daring to wipe it, trembling and completely unable to resist. Then he looked at the arrogant company personnel, acting as if it was Old Hauler's fault for not helping them. He understood.

"Got it."

Karl walked to the bar, where Mrs. Welles had already taken out a medical kit and prepared it.

"Mrs. Welles, do you mind if I help you clean up?"

"What are you saying, child? I'd be happy to have your help."

"That's good."

Karl took the medical kit and walked back, handing the medical kit and his half-bag of fries to Oliver.

"Take care of Old Hauler's treatment. Remember to do a thorough job, and don't steal my fries. I'm watching you. There's still half a bag."

Oliver stared at Karl, then looked at Jack, who was still saying something, and seemed to understand what Karl was about to do.

"I won't steal any. Leave the treatment to me, but don't break anything."

"I know. Jack's temper is too good. For guys like this..."

Karl cracked his knuckles and walked forward.

"When I deal with them, I won't even break a cup."

Daring to cause trouble in the Afterlife bar for no reason, who gave him the guts?