Damn, that's a big guy.
Standing in front of the bouncer, Karl had to admit—aside from Animals gang members, he hadn't seen anyone this jacked. And yet…
Could he be an Animal? He didn't have the usual hormone-puffed bulk. His build looked earned, not injected. Strange—such a sculpted guy, just working security for a tiny bar?
Karl could feel the man behind the sunglasses watching him. He held the stare—until the bouncer turned his head and stepped aside, clearing a path. Recognition, maybe.
Karl didn't dwell on it. The guy felt vaguely familiar, sure, but nothing concrete came to mind. He brushed it off and stepped inside with V.
The bar was dimly lit, even with sunlight leaking in. Karl spotted Dino lounging on a couch in the corner. He moved to greet him—then paused.
That feeling of familiarity from earlier? It clicked.
The bouncer's movements—they had textbook precision.
Karl couldn't explain it exactly. The man's posture had the kind of readiness drilled into elite soldiers. Relaxed, but coiled. Ready to strike or evade. No wasted motion. No weaknesses.
Karl's neural processor was tuned to read posture, reaction windows, blind spots. He could usually dissect a person's stance in a heartbeat.
But this guy? Nothing. Flawless.
The only person Karl had ever seen carry themselves like that was Kenichiro Arasaka himself. Not even Adam Smasher—more brute force than grace—moved like that.
Manual come to life. Not street brawler, but trained ghost.
Karl felt his curiosity stir, but didn't look back. In Night City, everyone had secrets. Poking too hard at someone else's was a good way to wind up dead.
A covert operative working as a bouncer? Ridiculous.
He let it go and took a seat next to Dino.
Dino handed over a datachip without a word.
Karl didn't like plugging chips directly into his neural port. He slid it into his phone instead. The slim five-centimeter chip clicked in, and his screen lit up with scrolling lines of data.
"Where the hell did you get a phone like that?" Dino asked, shades sliding down his nose slightly.
"Custom mod. Changed the port interface. Only downside—gets hot. Might explode."
Dino froze.
"Explode? How bad are we talking?"
"Moderate," Karl replied, eyes on the screen. "Roughly equivalent to a modded low-yield frag. Lethal, but local."
"…Range?"
"Two meters, give or take."
Dino subtly slid his chair back.
He wasn't afraid of dying. Not after everything he'd seen in Night City. But dying because someone's phone overheated? That was a death too stupid to forgive.
Rumors said Karl was a little unhinged. Maybe teetering on the edge of cyberpsychosis. Dino hadn't believed it. The guy had always been polite over comms. Professional.
But this? This was a man who casually carried a phone that could detonate mid-text.
Yeah. The rumors might have something to them.
Karl ignored him, thumbing through the data. The chip radiated heat, but his hands were used to worse. When he finished, he pulled it out and met Dino's eyes.
"…Shiny?"
"You've heard of it?" Dino leaned forward.
Karl frowned.
"Synthetic hallucinogen. Highly addictive. Tiger Claws are cooking it, yeah?"
"Yup," Dino said. "User OD fries their neurons until their brain literally glows. Nasty stuff."
"Designer drug," Karl muttered. "What's the job?"
"Not dealing it," Dino said quickly, waving his hands. "The chip had transaction logs, supply manifests. I want your team to find the lab and burn it to the ground. It's near City Center. Intel traces the shipments to Kabuki."
Karl narrowed his eyes.
"You planning to wipe out the competition and take over?"
Dino didn't flinch. "Hell no. I mess with boosters, not poison. Legal-adjacent stuff. Sports enhancers. I ain't touching Shiny."
Karl watched him. Heart rate steady. Breathing normal. No dampeners. No deception mods.
He was telling the truth.
Karl gave a slow nod.
"Alright. We're in. Let's hear the full brief."
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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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