Call Me KK

"What? You don't have any chip receivers or an operating system installed in your body, and you don't even have a phone?"

In the restaurant, hearing Carl say that, Oliver's eyes widened behind his glasses as he stared at her like she was some kind of freak.

He had originally planned to use the money in his account to repay Carl for saving his life, but Carl had told him she had no online account, no cyberware installed anywhere in her body, and not even the most basic operating system modification needed to slot chips.

"Not even Nomads live like that these days. Even monks who advocate not installing cyberware carry external receivers or phones to store their offering money. What are you, some kind of 'purebred human'?"

"Not exactly. You can just assume my previous environment never exposed me to this stuff. Explaining it would be a hassle. Do you know any way to get an operating system installed?"

"Of course I do. Just find any Ripperdoc and they can handle it. If you want to modify yourself afterward and install some cyberware, that's no problem either. This kind of thing is minor—it's just a matter of getting used to it early or late. I'm only surprised you've made it this far without ever encountering it."

"I want to find a Ripperdoc right now."

Having filled up on Chinese cold noodles, Carl drank the overly sweet Little Coco Cola. Honestly, she did not like this tooth-grittingly harsh cola.

"Then wait for me a moment."

As Oliver spoke, his eyes began to flicker. "Let me check whether there's a reputable Ripperdoc nearby. If we were in Santo Domingo, I could guarantee I'd find you four or five, but this is Watson District, and I'm not too familiar with it. Oh, there actually is one—Viktor Vektor. I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before. Hmm, he's less than a hundred meters from this restaurant. Want to go?"

Viktor?

The moment she heard that name, Carl knew who he was.

Viktor was a Ripperdoc in Night City who ran a clinic in Little China. It seemed he had once worked as an illegal doctor for a time.

Oh, an old acquaintance.

Carl still remembered Viktor somewhat. From the information she knew, he was the Ripperdoc of V, the protagonist of 2077. Since he was the protagonist's doctor, his skills were presumably trustworthy.

"Then let's go now."

"Don't be so hasty. You don't even know the way!"

Feeling that this lifesaver she had just met and gotten along with rather well was somewhat impulsive, Oliver hurried after her and walked alongside her to lead the way.

As they walked, he explained cyberware prices to Carl.

"Don't worry. My sister is a Ripperdoc, so I know a lot about cyberware prices and quality. Your money is more than enough to get a Militech Parallel Line Model operating system, and you'll still have plenty left over to buy other things. If this Ripperdoc quotes some outrageous price, we can just turn around and leave. With me here, you won't get scammed. It's only an operating system—any doctor can install one. If they're all rip-offs, I'll take you to my sister. I guarantee a fair price."

Carl fell silent for a moment before asking a question.

"Are you always this talkative?"

"Isn't it because you saved my life, and I feel like we get along? Seriously, I've only been in the Sixth Street Gang for a week, but I've felt suffocated the whole time. They keep going on about military conduct and military rules—it's a pain in the ass. Compared to that, being around you feels much more comfortable."

"Your sexual orientation isn't a problem, is it?"

"What kind of question is that? My family is a traditional American family—we don't do that messy stuff. I'm definitely male and into women, okay? I've already had two ex-girlfriends."

Perhaps the Sixth Street Gang had been suppressing his personality, and now that he had finally gained his freedom because all his teammates were dead, Oliver seemed somewhat incapable of stopping himself from talking.

"Sigh, when I go back, the people above will probably nag me to death. I've already reported what happened to the gang. No matter what, I'm the only one who came back alive, so the families of the dead are definitely going to blame and accuse me. The higher-ups might even kick me out of the gang because of the pressure. They won't kill me out of respect for my father, but they'll probably make me get the hell out of Santo Domingo. Still, I'm already sick of the Sixth Street Gang. This is a good chance to get away from my family's control and do something free for once."

"Even though it wasn't your fault, and you still killed so many people trying to fight back, they'll kick you out of the gang?"

"Our vice-captain was some castrated, gilded-brain idiot. He died easily with nothing between his legs, but the gang has to give Will Firecannon some replacement balls to account for it."

"Will Firecannon?"

"He's an old-timer in the Sixth Street Gang. That gilded brat who died was his nephew. What can I say? I only found out who he was while we were eating just now. This is seriously fucked up. My first mission almost got me killed, and now I'm getting dragged down by some dead idiot."

Though he grumbled, a smile appeared on Oliver's face. He then nudged Carl with his elbow. "Buddy, what do you say? I'm about to be broke and homeless, begging on the streets. Since I owe you my life, want to partner up and do something? Become mercenaries or something?"

"I think one meal is enough to cancel out the life you owe me."

Carl spoke calmly, but she was somewhat interested in Oliver's suggestion of working together. "But becoming mercenaries together is fine. I'm always fine with whatever. You're a local of Night City, so having someone familiar around would make taking jobs easier."

"Then it's settled, buddy. From now on, we'll be a sharpshooter duo. You handle the sharp shooting, and I'll handle reaching out to grab the money for you?"

"I think you're a good shot too."

"I'm just not as good as you."

As Oliver spoke, he suddenly remembered something important. "Oh, right. I've been calling you buddy this whole time, but I still don't know your name. What should I call you?"

"Carl. First name Carl, last name Carl. Just read it normally, not Erka. Well, you can also call me by the operational codename I just came up with. To avoid revealing too much during future jobs, you can use that codename to address me too."

"A codename? Oh, I get it—like the latter parts of names like Johnny Silverhand, Morgan Blackhand, and Adam Smasher, right? Makes sense. If we're becoming mercenaries, we ought to measure up to those legends. My own name is everywhere, though, so I don't really care about using an operational codename. What's yours? I'll remember it."

"It's just a simple English letter."

Thinking of the letter V that belonged to the protagonist in her memories, Carl smiled as she thought of her own name. "Call me KK."

"KK?"

"It can be considered a codename that brings my name to mind. My name is Carl, so it starts with K."

"Oh, I see."

In truth, that was only one reason. For Carl, the other meaning involved a Korean and Chinese homophone that only she could understand.

KK, when combined as a name, meant Kaka, and that Chinese pronunciation had another homophonic meaning in Korean.

It meant "Your Excellency," "Supreme Commander."