"So, how did I do this time? Pretty professional, huh?"
As Karl emerged from the chaos, surrounded by Blanca's personnel, he casually threw out a line. Blanca paused for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.
She moved her lips like she wanted to say a lot, but in the end, all she could manage was a resigned:
"It was indeed professional."
"I told you I wouldn't disappoint."
Karl smiled. "There were three attackers. I took care of all of them. Not sure if there are more."
He couldn't speak openly in front of the others, so he left the end of his sentence hanging—subtly prompting Blanca for an update.
By his count, he'd dealt with five of the former ACPA trainees. Time to confirm how far along the job really was.
"It's done."
Blanca looked at the report her people had gathered, her expression unreadable.
"The ones who came after me were internal traitors. Five of them died escaping the company. The ones you eliminated… were the last of those with a grudge against me."
"So that means… it's over?"
The long-term contract—
"It's over."
"Then…"
Time to talk about the promised payment?
"We'll discuss it later."
Later—as in privately.
With Militech operatives still watching, their exchange was cryptic, understood only between them. Then Karl turned his gaze toward the half-demolished Spanish restaurant, silently posing a question.
Blanca misunderstood it as him asking whether the "date" would continue, and she shook her head.
"I need to return and handle the aftermath. I'm not letting them get away with dragging me into this."
She was a department head now—and those bastards actually had the audacity to pull something like this?
She was a little disappointed the date had been interrupted… but the short time with Karl had left her satisfied. At the very least, she now understood what kind of person he was. She knew she could trust him—and maybe even get closer to him.
"So it's really over…"
Watching Karl's faintly disappointed expression after she said the date was done, Blanca couldn't help but feel a bit pleased.
Looks like I'm not the only one who didn't want it to end.
Before she could play the role of the older "big sister" and offer a few gentle words to comfort him, Karl muttered something that immediately lodged her words in her throat:
"I was planning to pack up some food for Jackie and the others. Guess I'll have to pay for it myself now."
Blanca turned to glance at the restaurant, still mostly intact in the kitchen. She thought back to how Karl had placed her in there during the fight—
In his subconscious… did he see the kitchen and her as equally worth protecting?
"Your blood pressure is rising above safe levels. Please monitor your condition."
The alert from her monitoring implant echoed coldly in her ear.
Blanca clenched her fist, stormed over to Karl, and snapped:
"I booked the entire damn restaurant for the night. Order whatever you want—however much you want. It's all on me!"
"Really?!"
Karl lit up, clearly already thinking of what to bring back for Jackie and the crew.
Blanca spun on her heel and walked off.
"Take care! Let me know if you need something next time! See you around!"
Hearing Karl's cheerful farewell behind her, Blanca paused for a second… then quickened her pace.
Her secretary, jogging to catch up, leaned in:
"Director, how do you want to handle this?"
"I want them dead."
The secretary froze. She wasn't used to hearing that kind of raw fury from the normally cold-faced Blanca. Thinking she'd misheard, she asked again:
"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't catch that—"
Blanca stopped in her tracks. Her sharp eyes locked onto the secretary, and in a voice that carried more weight than a bullet, she said each word clearly:
"I said—I want them dead."
"But Director, wouldn't that—"
"I've climbed to this position, and clearly there are those who think I don't deserve it. Fine. I'll show them who's in charge."
As she turned her head slightly, her eyes caught Karl again—happily heading back into the restaurant.
"They need to learn who the top dog really is."
I heard you loud and clear, ma'am, the secretary thought—but wisely kept her mouth shut and nodded.
Once back inside the car, Blanca's face returned to its usual calm, frosty mask.
"R&D department…"
You tried to have me killed—with ten of your so-called elites, picked from a pool of a million?
Fine.
What's ten out of a million?
Night City alone has seven million people. I could find seventy just like them without even trying—never mind the rest of New America.
If I catch even a trace of your involvement…
You'll see exactly how the most dangerous merc crew in Night City handles business.
"Hmm-hmm-hmm~ hmm-hmm-hmm~"
Back at the restaurant, Karl was grinning as he sat down and asked the still-nervous chef and server:
"Hey, do you guys have insurance?"
The couple—still shaken—exchanged a look. The man, who worked front-of-house, forced a smile:
"Yeah, we do. Property insurance. This is the city center, after all… even here, accidents happen."
"Good. I was worried this incident might shut you down. I was seriously considering investing as a partner—your food's amazing."
"If there's a next time, we'd love to have you."
The chef smiled, standing up.
"But right now, back to business. What would you like, sir?"
"Can I order the entire menu?"
"Of course."
The chef tied on her apron again.
"After all, tonight's expenses are fully covered—aren't they?"
"You sure it won't be too much?"
"No worries."
The server gave Karl a thumbs-up.
"My wife is the best damn chef in all of Night City."
"Then get in here and help! Don't just talk—I need a kitchen hand."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Watching the two get to work, Karl opened up his comms and sent a message to the crew:
"Late-night feast secured. Our long-term gig's wrapped too. Time to start picking out Militech-grade cyberware."
P.S. Today's Fun Fact: In Japanese corporate hierarchy, the position below 部長 (Department Head) is 科長 (Section Chief)—a mid-level managerial rank. It shows up often in anime. Famous characters like Hiroshi Nohara and Nobita's dad both hold this title.
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