chapter 73

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Plop

"You'd better not let me know your true identity. If I catch you, I'll slap you in the face."

Karl was deeply dissatisfied with the brain dance wreath editor's evaluation, which classified him as a cyberpsycho.

He felt utterly disrespected. Did they really think he was a cyberpsycho? Could a cyberpsycho be as rational as he was?

He was a polite individual, always saying "goodbye" either out loud or in his mind after defeating an opponent. There weren't many people in all of Night City as courteous as he was—old vic could vouch for that.

This was clearly slander.

Feeling a bit down after watching the first brain dance wreath, Karl's mood lifted with the second one.

This time, the person labeled as a cyberpsycho was the recorder, not him.

'This makes much more sense.'

Experiencing the emotions of the cyberpsycho wielding a mantis knife in this recording, Karl silently absorbed the instinctive sword techniques displayed in the madness. It felt worthwhile.

He had spent 510 euros in total. It would have been a significant loss if he hadn't learned anything.

There were valuable lessons even in the first brain dance wreath, like how to operate a rocket launcher. However, Karl didn't plan to revisit that brain dance wreath anytime soon.

With the bitterness it stirred up, if he ever met the brain dance wreath editor, Karl might struggle to control his urge to beat them senseless.

After watching the cyberpsycho brain dance wreath, Karl went through the entire second season of Trauma Team brain dance wreaths multiple times. He committed the skills displayed in them to memory, and by the time he finished, it was already dark.

He checked his communications. Oliver and Jack hadn't sent any messages—well, no important ones. They had just sent him a photo of a dining table.

'Japanese and Chinese restaurants,' he noted.

That was promising.

Karl checked the time: 4:04 p.m. He had slept until almost noon, then went to the brain dance wreath store around midday. Since returning, he had been engrossed in the brain dance wreaths and hadn't eaten. Now, he was feeling hungry.

Looking at the vending machine in his room, Karl saw the image of a burrito displayed and decided he should go out to eat instead.

Squeezing soft burritos to add seasoning sounded ridiculous no matter how he thought about it.

Grabbing his coat, Karl left his room and checked the visitor records upstairs. After confirming no one had come looking for him, he took the elevator down to the first floor.

The NCPD had left a phone number but no reward. Even if he wanted to build a relationship with them to check personnel information later, it wouldn't work. He didn't know when he'd get another chance to deal with a cyberpsycho.

After ordering a meal at a downtown restaurant, Karl's communication device suddenly rang just as he was about to eat.

He saw it was Maine calling.

Wasn't Maine supposed to be on a mission tonight, with the hacker named Sasha handling communications?

Karl was puzzled but didn't delay answering. He stepped outside as he accepted the call.

"Maine, what's going on..." Karl started to ask.

Before he could finish, Maine's urgent voice interrupted.

"Karl, where are you? In the city center?!"

Maine's voice was filled with urgency. Karl could hear panting and rapid footsteps in the background, as if Mann was running.

"I'm in the city center. What's happened?"

"You're in the city center?! Karl, perfect. Go to the Biotech company and help Sasha, please. She went to steal data from their Night City branch today. Everything was going smoothly, but she suddenly went off the grid. Something must have gone wrong!"

The call abruptly ended. Biotech.

"I understand."

No more explanation was needed. The objective and situation were clear. Time to act.

The Biotech branch's headquarters in Night City was nearby. If Karl ran, he could get there in a minute.

He didn't know what had happened to Sasha, but since she was crucial to the upcoming mission, she had to be saved.

Karl sprinted, arriving at the Biotech company 20 seconds earlier than anticipated. As he approached the high-rise building, he saw a figure crash through a window, falling from a high floor.

A black-haired figure.

It was Sasha.

Karl had received information about her earlier that morning and could still recognize her.

He quickened his pace, and as he did, time seemed to slow.

'This feeling...'

It wasn't that someone had used sandevistan on him, but rather, he had caught up with this sensation himself.

He had mastered a new skill.

Since changing the access warehouse, his abilities seemed to have improved significantly.

Even though time felt slower, Karl used this perception to adjust his posture and predict where Sasha would land.

She was going to hit a car.

Falling from nearly 20 meters, even with a car to cushion her fall, would still be too dangerous.

Karl's mind flashed back to a memory.

In 1971, a Peruvian National Airlines flight was struck by lightning, disintegrating mid-air at 3,000 meters. Fifteen people died, but a 17-year-old girl named Julian survived, cushioned by her aircraft seat and tree leaves. Her injuries included swollen eyes, tibia fractures, and severe ligament damage.

With enough cushioning, it was possible to survive a high-altitude fall.

But what kind of cushioning?

Airplane seat, cushion...

Karl knew what to do.

Monomolecular wires shot from his wrists.

He stepped toward the car Sasha was about to hit, jumped up, and used the wires to slice open the car's roof.

Landing on a soft seat was far better than crashing onto solid metal.

With that thought, Karl threw his coat over the roof's gap, providing an additional layer of cushioning.

'I don't know how effective this will be, but I've done my best. Whether she survives now depends on her.'

Plop!

Sasha's body fell heavily into the car.

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