Chapter 160: Investigation
"The deceased was 32 years old, a resident of Santo Domingo, occupation—delivery driver. Family—"
"Sergeant Johnson, the cause of death has been determined. It was asphyxiation."
"Asphyxiation?"
Recently promoted from sergeant to lieutenant, Johnson turned to look at the officer handing him the report, struggling to believe the forensic department's findings.
He took the file and skimmed through it. The report was clear—the cause of death was asphyxiation.
Johnson turned back toward the crime scene, scanning the splattered chunks of flesh and pools of blood inside the perimeter.
And they were saying… this guy choked to death?
"So you're telling me—he suffocated first… then was dismembered?"
"That's our current assumption."
"That's… strange. If the guy was already dead, what's the point of hacking his body to bits? Or was it just a rush job to remove his cyberware? Could the perp be a Scav?"
The information was too limited.
Johnson wasn't a dedicated investigator—so for now, he just took the forensics team's findings at face value.
"Check the surrounding surveillance footage. Question anyone nearby. If it was Scavs, we might need to schedule a clean-up operation."
Just as he finished speaking, a uniformed officer ran toward him, clearly in a hurry.
"Lieutenant! Sir!"
"What is it?"
"Unauthorized personnel approaching!"
"Unauthorized?"
Johnson frowned. Usually, if someone got close during an active investigation, the standard procedure was simple—tell them to back off. Why the hell was this guy reporting it like some major issue?
"There are two of them. One of them is Karl."
"Karl?"
Johnson immediately understood why the officer came running.
If it was Karl, that changed things.
"Alright, let him through. And the other one?"
The officer hesitated.
"I… I don't know who he is."
He swallowed nervously. "But I saw Karl nodding and listening to him."
"…Karl was listening to him?"
That… wasn't like Karl at all.
The Karl Johnson knew was loud, reckless, and—if you didn't know better—you might mistake him for an unhinged cyberpsycho.
Since when did he just stand there and quietly listen to someone else talk?
Now that was weird.
"Let them both through. I'm curious—who's the guy that Karl actually listens to?"
"Yes, sir!"
The officer turned and hurried back—not because he thought Karl would get impatient waiting.
No.
He just didn't want to keep Karl waiting.
The young officer had been there both times Karl took down cyberpsychos. Hell, Karl had saved his life twice.
Unlike the rest of Night City, which saw Karl—KK—as a reckless merc, an absolute lunatic feared by gangs and fixers alike… this cop wasn't afraid of him at all.
In fact, he felt safer every time he saw him.
Because he knew—this so-called menace of the underworld, this boogeyman for gangoons—was actually a decent guy.
Karl was reasonable. Karl was polite.
And to this officer, Karl represented something that NCPD had long abandoned—
Justice.
Not the fake, corrupt, backroom-deal type of justice the cops of Night City peddled—
But real justice.
Most people in Night City? They didn't care about justice or fairness.
Maybe they woke up in a bad mood. Maybe a broken neon sign was flickering too much. Maybe some random pedestrian walked too straight in front of them.
And that was all it took for someone to pull a gun and start shooting at strangers.
But Karl?
Karl never did that.
If Karl came for you, there was always a reason.
And in this city, where most people died without even knowing why, that was a rarity.
Most people didn't get the luxury of dying with clarity.
They just dropped dead—never knowing who they pissed off, what rule they broke, or which psycho decided they were next.
Living in a city where you spent every day terrified that some lunatic might randomly gun you down? That was suffocating.
So when you met someone who actually had limits—who played by some kind of rules—who treated you like an actual human being…
How could that not make you feel safe?
"Much appreciated. Thanks."
Karl smiled as he nodded to the officer before stepping forward with Ken'ichiro.
They entered the sealed-off crime scene.
"Lieutenant Johnson, good morning."
"Morning, Karl."
Johnson returned the smile—a rare sight—and then turned his gaze to Ken'ichiro.
His eyes lingered for a moment on the black suit, then shifted back to Karl.
"And this is…?"
"Let's call him my superior."
Karl didn't say Ken'ichiro's name—just his role.
"Your superior?"
Johnson looked genuinely shocked.
"You're working for a corp now?"
"More like part-time. You've heard of Danger Girls, right? The cat-eared girl detective agency?"
"Danger Girls, huh?"
As a veteran of Night City, of course Johnson knew about them.
Their reputation had faded in recent years—but back in Johnson's youth, Danger Girls was the hottest detective agency in the city.
Hell, he even bought one of their catgirl detective photo books back in the day.
"So you're here investigating. This isn't about the case, is it?"
"If you guys were actual detectives, I'd welcome you onboard, but…"
Johnson's eyes flicked back to Ken'ichiro.
"You guys have cat-eared girl detectives, right? Or did Danger Girls rebrand into an old-man detective agency? Or maybe—if he takes off that suit—he's actually a cat-eared girl underneath?"
For the first time, Ken'ichiro's expression faltered.
Only slightly.
His face remained calm, but there was the faintest twitch in his eye.
Yet, instead of responding, he simply chose silence—leaving the negotiation to Karl.
Damn, what a pro. Even after hearing that, all he did was twitch a little.
Karl internally praised Ken'ichiro's composure.
Still, he decided not to leave his temporary boss hanging for too long—
And started explaining things to Johnson.
.
.
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