Chapter 59: Afterlife

"Hey, Karl, Oliver—how do I look?"

Jack brushed off his jacket, flashing a confident grin.

"Do I look like a badass merc ready to step into Afterlife?"

"Meh. You're trying too hard."

Oliver glanced at Jack's hip, where a Saratoga SMG was deliberately positioned for visibility.

Then, he patted his own Shingen—equally visible, but in a more casual manner.

"You should learn from me. Subtle, yet professional."

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Karl shot them a deadpan look.

Ever since they heard they were heading to Afterlife, they'd been acting like excited kids—

And the closer they got, the dumber they got.

"Karl."

Oliver and Jack suddenly turned serious, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"Do you even realize where we're going?"

"Of course."

Karl shrugged.

"A bar where mercs pick up gigs. Used to be a morgue. What's the big deal?"

"THE BIG DEAL?!"

Jack threw his arms up.

"Only real mercs—

The best of the best—

Get to set foot in there!"

"Karl, do you know who's been there before?"

"Morgan Blackhand.

Weyland 'Boa' Barnes.

LEGENDS."

"Once upon a time, they were just like us—dressed casually, walking in on an ordinary day...

Then BOOM! Took a gig. Made history."

"We're following in their footsteps, man!"

"I don't see the big deal."

Karl yawned.

It was still just a bar.

A former morgue at that.

Sounded like it had a creepy-ass vibe.

Didn't seem like the kind of place you could chill and have a drink.

But the "world-shaking jobs" part?

Now that was interesting.

He was curious—what exactly counted as a "world-shaking" job?

Fifty meters from Afterlife.

They walked through Watson's Little China, down a dim, neon-lit hallway, until they reached a stairwell leading underground.

At the bottom, they found a mountain of a man standing guard.

Karl had looked up some info about Afterlife before coming.

The guy was Emmerick Bronson—a bouncer notorious for deciding who was worthy of stepping inside.

Rumor had it, he had ties to the Animals gang, but who knew if that was true?

Still, made sense—the Animals were muscle-for-hire.

Who else would be better at "door duty"?

As they approached, Emmerick sized them up.

His gaze swept over Oliver and Jack quickly—

But then stopped dead on Karl.

He blinked.

Then blinked again.

Like he was trying to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

He even squinted slightly, as if double-checking reality.

He only snapped out of it when Karl stepped forward.

"Ahem."

Emmerick cleared his throat, straightened up, then crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Got an appointment?"

"Can't we just check it out?"

Karl did have an appointment with Blanca, but he was curious—

What would happen if they showed up uninvited?

"No appointment?"

Emmerick uncrossed his arms.

"Then I don't need to announce you."

Then—to Karl's surprise—he stepped aside.

Behind him, a door leading into Afterlife swung open.

Karl blinked.

Then blinked again.

"Wait... that's it?"

He pointed at himself, then at Jack and Oliver.

"You're not stopping us?"

Emmerick grinned slightly.

"I've seen the video. Whole city has."

"I'd have to be an idiot to think a merc crazy enough to go toe-to-toe with an ACPA ain't worthy."

He nodded toward Oliver and Jack.

"These two—your crew?"

"Go on in. We welcome teams."

For the first time all day...

Karl saw Jack and Oliver speechless.

"So I really am famous now, huh?"

Karl mused, reaching for the door next to Emmerick—

But just as his fingers brushed against it, the bouncer suddenly stopped him.

"Oh, right—almost forgot."

Emmerick frowned, as if something just occurred to him.

"What's your name? I should keep it on record. If you ever make an appointment, I'll know to let you in right away."

"Just call me KK."

Karl shrugged.

"If you don't like merc aliases, Karl works too."

"KK, huh? Got it."

Emmerick nodded, then reached out and pushed the door open for him.

A wave of warm light and the sharp scent of alcohol flooded through the entrance.

"Welcome to Afterlife. Enjoy your stay."

"Appreciate it."

Karl stepped in, while Oliver and Jack, still slightly tense, followed a step behind him—

Like bodyguards escorting a VIP.

The first thing Karl thought when he saw Afterlife?

"Damn. This place really does look like the underworld."

No natural light.

Everything underground.

Bathed in a sickly green glow.

If hell had a bar, this would be it.

Thinking about it, it kinda made sense.

Every merc in here walked the line between life and death.

Afterlife was less a bar and more like a second home—

A place where they celebrated still breathing.

As soon as they were inside, Oliver and Jack loosened up a little.

Since Blanca only needed Karl for business, the other two waved him off and headed straight for the bar.

Looked like they were eager for a drink.

Karl wasn't in a rush to meet Blanca either.

Instead, he trailed behind them, curious about something else—

The Afterlife drink menu.

He'd heard rumors.

Supposedly, this place had special drinks named after legendary mercs.

And he wanted to see for himself.

Then, he watched Jack order his drink—

"Old-fashioned tequila. A splash of beer. Some chili."

Karl blinked.

"Doesn't that burn?"

"I'll take the same," Oliver said.

As if this was totally normal.

The bartender, completely unfazed, nodded.

"Two Johnny Silverhands, coming up."

Karl froze.

Johnny Silverhand?

He knew that name.

A rockerboy. A terrorist.

One of the most infamous figures in history.

"Why the hell does this bar have a drink named after him?"

Karl had no idea.

But he was about to find out.