Tasks for the Day Off

"I'm so bored."

Karl sat at the counter of the El Coyote Cojo, complaining to Mama Welles, Jack's mother. "There are no jobs, Mama Welles. If this keeps up, we're going to starve to death."

"Don't be so anxious, Karl."

Mama Welles smiled and served him a plate of french fries. "Isn't it nice to have some downtime? Try these—they're the new fries I've been working on."

"Oh, are these the ones you mentioned, the ones with the seasoned salt?"

Watching Karl, who had just been wallowing in misery only to perk up instantly at the sight of fries, Oliver and Jack—sitting further down the bar—exchanged helpless looks.

Their small crew had been together for a week now, during which they had taken on five scattered jobs. In that time, they had gained a deeper understanding of Karl's personality. If Oliver and Jack were to describe him now, they would use a Chinese term Karl had taught them without a moment's hesitation:

"Looking for trouble."

It wasn't that Karl liked to stir up drama or cause unnecessary strife; Oliver and Jack understood it in the literal sense. To put it simply, Karl couldn't sit still. The moment a job was finished, he was already looking for the next one, utterly incapable of resting or relaxing.

Most mercenaries, if a job paid well, would take at least ten days or half a month off before even considering another contract. But Karl was different. He was often planning his next gig while still in the middle of the current one. He was essentially a mission-completion machine.

Oliver and Jack didn't think Karl's "looking for trouble" was a bad thing, though. Thanks to his relentless grind, their own skills had improved significantly, and their wallets were getting thicker by the day. That was certainly something to be happy about. But humans weren't machines; they needed rest. That was exactly why they had dragged Karl to the bar today to have a drink.

"Stop looking so glum. Have a drink," Oliver said, clinking his glass against Jack's as he watched Karl happily munching on his fries.

"Besides, according to Karl, once we're famous enough to take jobs from fixers, he’ll start being more selective. We can just hold out until then."

"I'm not saying the work is bad. We’re mercenaries, after all—having work is better than having none. I'm just wondering, with these small-time jobs we’re doing, will we ever actually make a name for ourselves and catch a fixer's eye?"

"You want to pull a big job, Jack? Like that first one?"

"A man's got to have something to look forward to. If every gig paid thirty or forty thousand eddies, I'd die a happy man."

Heywood kids always talked about death as if it were nothing. Usually, when they were out on a job, Karl would be the one to tell him off, but today was different.

"Jack!"

Mama Welles glared at him.

"Oh, sorry, Ma."

Jack realized he shouldn't be saying things like that in front of his mother and apologized quickly. He had gotten into the subconscious habit of speaking that way while hanging out with Karl and Oliver, and he hadn't caught himself in time.

"Try to say less of that, Jack," Oliver said. Just then, he received an unexpected notification—it was from his sister.

She had originally said she would be back in Night City in two days, but she kept delaying it with various excuses. Now, she had finally returned and wanted to meet up with her brother.

"I have to go," Oliver said. After bidding farewell to Karl, Jack, and Mama Welles, he left. Since he had been kicked out of the 6th Street Gang, he couldn't return to Santo Domingo without causing trouble, but his sister coming to Watson was fine. He planned to take her out for a meal.

Not long after Oliver left, Jack had his own business to attend to. His current girlfriend, who was also the landlord of Viktor's clinic, wanted to go out with him. After sending Karl a private message to explain, Jack made up some excuse to his mother and left. His mother preferred his ex-girlfriend over his current one, and he didn't want her to know he was going on a date.

In a short span of time, the three-man team that had finally managed to take a break was reduced to just Karl, sitting alone at the bar eating fries.

What could he do?

One teammate was with his sister, the other with his girlfriend. What was left for him?

Fine.

He might as well go home and study hacking or watch some braindances; at least those had been proven to be effective for learning.

"Thanks for the meal, Mama Welles."

After finishing his fries, Karl stepped out of the bar and began walking through the streets of Heywood. Suddenly, a rather important realization hit him.

Oliver, who usually drove them around, was gone. How was he supposed to get back to Watson?

The metro?

He had never taken it; he wasn't familiar with the system.

Forget it.

He’d just call a cab.

Just as Karl was about to hail a taxi, his phone rang.

Oh ho, an acquaintance. Isn't this that big-time client who said they’d only use this burner phone once? Why were they using it again?

A corporate suit is a corporate suit, but he had to answer the call—the client paid well, after all.

*Beep.*

"I have a job. I need a bodyguard to accompany me to a negotiation. Fifty thousand eddies. One person. If you want it, be at the Silent Motel in Watson in an hour."

The caller hung up immediately, giving Karl no room to talk back. The arrogance was palpable.

Fine.

It was fifty thousand eddies, so let them be arrogant. It didn't matter. They were the client, and he was just there to do the work.

Karl thought for a moment and decided not to bother Oliver or Jack. It was rare for them to get a day off to spend with family and their girlfriends, and he didn't want to send a message that would make them worry. If he did, given their personalities, they might abandon their plans and follow him in secret to provide cover.

It was the perfect chance to test the cyberware he’d had installed at Viktor’s yesterday.

In the past few days, aside from the money spent on braindances and hacking lessons, Karl had poured every credit from his jobs into that upgrade.

Feeling the strange sensation in his arms, Karl gave them a shake, then tapped the Arasaka-made "Kenshin" smart pistol at his waist.

A smart pistol used electromagnetic energy to accelerate full-metal ammunition to extreme speeds, capable of punching through cover or walls. Standard subcutaneous armor was as fragile as paper before it. This was the gun Karl had spent a fortune on after learning his lesson from previous encounters. Now, it was time for both the gun and his new arm upgrades to prove their worth.