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"Transport personnel verified. All clearāgo on through."
At the checkpoint outside Night City, the guards watched as the Aldecaldo truck slowly rolled past. One of them glanced at the update in his cyberoptic HUD showing a credit transfer, kept a straight face, and waved the next vehicle forward.
"Not a bad shift. Caught an Aldecaldo runāeasy payday."
"Lucky it's someone we know doing inspections today," the Aldecaldo driver told Karl, who was riding shotgun. "Last time, some greenhorn was on duty and gave us a hell of a time."
"Inspections are this relaxed now?"
Karl raised an eyebrow. He hadn't even needed to get outāthe driver had just rolled down the window, showed some ID, and that was that.
"As long as everything looks good on paper, they don't care. But you gotta know the rulesādon't move too much contraband. And if you do get caught, you're on your own. As long as City Council doesn't get involved, it's all good. Worst case, you cool off in a cell for a bit and make bail."
Then the driver added, glancing toward the back of the truck:
"But what we're hauling this time? That's not your everyday stuff. Usually we sneak in real meat or a few guns. But what you've got back there, KK? If it gets flagged, you're the one who'll have to answer for it. No other way."
"Yeah," Karl nodded. "No denying that."
An ACPA getting caught in transport was no joke. This wasn't some off-the-books protein delivery a few NCPD grunts could sweep under the rug. If it got exposed, it'd end up in front of the entire City Councilāand likely spiral into a full-blown political incident.
And the Council? They weren't about to believe a rogue ACPA belonged to some freelance merc crew.
Karl's squad would instantly be suspected of acting under someone else's orders. The Council's paranoia was legendaryāthey'd assume the ACPA was meant to target one of them. And that would kick off a political shitstorm.
Karl didn't really care if the Council tore itself apart. If anything, he'd make eddies picking up contracts during the chaos. But if it meant losing the ACPA? That was too steep a price.
As long as it stayed hidden, an ACPA was just another secret weaponāmost gangs had at least one. But once exposed, it got "special treatment." Last time Karl had been involved in an ACPA incident, the resulting PR disaster had Militech and Arasaka's spokespeople bickering for weeks.
Bottom line: these toys were fine in the shadows. Let them see daylight, and the world freaked out.
Sitting in the truck as they drove, Karl thought back to Saul's offerāto store the ACPA with the Aldecaldos. It wasn't a bad idea.
But some things were personal.
Ever since an ACPA had cost him both his arms, Karl had had a score to settle. He wasn't just bringing this thing home for his crew. He was bringing it home for himself.
Operating an ACPA required specialized implants and gear. Karl had no intention of loading up his body just to pilot one. What he wanted was to tear it down, study it, and find its weak spots.
Official manuals and tech were locked up tight. Even the black market only had scrapsāillicit BDs, corrupted specs. But having a real one in front of him? That changed the game.
He didn't care about reverse-engineering it like V might. Karl just wanted to learn its behaviorāwhere it strained, where it lagged, which systems left it exposed. He wanted to know how to take one down clean and fast.
"Once I've dissected this thing, even Adam Smasher in his Dragoon-grade armor won't be invincible anymore."
He remembered their past fights all too wellāhow the only opening he'd found had been Smasher's eyes. That wouldn't happen again. The next time they clashed, that weakness would be patched. Karl needed deeper knowledge to dismantle him piece by piece.
They say third time's the charm. So far, he'd lost once and managed a draw with Smasher.
The third round?
That's when he'd bring the legend crashing down.
"Not much longer now."
Clenching his fist, Karl felt the strength in his armsābut his eyes stayed locked on the streets ahead, visible through the windshield.
As they drove through Santo Domingo, past Heywood, and into the road leading to Watson, they hit a roadblockāan NCPD cordon had cut off access ahead.
Something had clearly gone down.
"Road's temporarily closed. Please take a detour," a female NCPD officer said, signaling the truck to turn around.
But Karl recognized her. He lowered the window.
"Oriona?"
"You're... KK?"
The womanāOrionaāblinked. She'd met Karl before, back during the Cormack job. Recognition dawned across her face.
"You're running transport gigs now?"
"And I'm surprised you're NCPD."
At that, Oriona glanced around and sighed.
"Back then, you and the NCPD saved me. You knowābecause of the whole bloodline mess. After that, Cormack and Gilley were dead, and I didn't have anyone left in the city. I was planning to keep working under the Old Captainā¦"
She hesitated, then added, "But that's when Andy reached out. Offered me a spot in some special NCPD unit. And with my uncle still out thereā¦ maybe planning revengeā¦ I figured it'd be safer this way."
"So you took Andy's offer."
"Yeah. My old man used to tell me to find a real job. Said I should join Militech or some corpo BS. Never thought I'd end up here, wearing blue."
She sighed again.
"Seeing you reminded me of something. When I first joined, I couldn't understand why everyone in the unit respected you so much. Then I got my first bonusā¦ and it all made sense. People would follow you into hell if you asked. Now I get it."
"Hell, being a cop pays better than merc work. It's safer, with real benefits. If I'd known, I would've joined your crew ages ago. All those street rats talking shit about 'never becoming a cop'āthey just don't want others taking their spots."
"My crew?" Karl raised an eyebrow. "Is that what Andy's been telling people?"
"He doesn't have to. Everyone in the NCPD knows who's really got their backs. The one making sure they're fed, paid, and equipped. The real question isāyou don't know?"
Oriona smirked, then turned to the rest of the officers.
"Clear the roadāit's Karl."
The name was all it took. The officers, who had been busy setting up the cordon, froze for a secondāthen sprang into action. Within 30 seconds, the road was open.
"Go on ahead, Mr. KK. Our local legend."
She folded her arms.
"Drop by HQ sometime. The whole station's hoping to see you again. I still owe you my life, after all."
"As long as nobody calls me 'sir,' we're good. And seriouslyā'legend'? That's laying it on thick."
Karl chuckled, gave her a wave, and leaned back in his seat.
"I'll drop by when I can. Say hi to Andy and Mr. Johnson for me."
"Say hiā¦"
As the truck rumbled past, Oriona looked around at her fellow officers.
They couldn't see who was inside, but the way they stoodāsilent, respectful, straight-backedāsaid it all.
"Sooner or later, everyone's gonna be saluting you, huh?" she muttered.
"Damn KKā¦ it's like the whole NCPD's turning into your personal squad."
Still, she glanced down at her freshly deposited paycheck, then up at the truck that had once saved her lifeāand stayed right where she was, giving a silent salute.
Mr. KK...
This debt?
It couldn't be repaid.
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