Chapter 183 - Breakdown

"Andy?"

Karl stepped closer, calling his name again.

No response.

The young man, his fingers blown off, didn't even flinch. His cybernetic eyes remained locked on Karl, his remaining hand raising and lowering as if pulling the trigger of an imaginary gun.

Not a word. Not a sound. Not a single step taken.

Karl studied him carefully, his gaze drifting past Andy's rigid frame, finally seeing what had kept him frozen in place.

There, behind the van he had used as cover, lay the reason why Andy hadn't moved.

A young girl, clad in a gaudy, revealing outfit, long dead.

Even from a glance, Karl could tell how she had died. A gunshot wound straight through the heart, fired from behind.

She would have died instantly.

His eyes scanned her exposed skin, barely hidden beneath her tattered clothes. Scars. So many scars.

Karl exhaled. Long and slow.

"...Ah… ah… ah…"

A mechanical, hollow sound rasped from Andy's throat. No emotion. No awareness. His mind was simply gone.

He wasn't cyberpsychotic.

The truth was worse.

His mind had completely shattered.

He was broken—a man left with nothing but a body going through the motions.

Karl didn't approach the girl's body. Instead, he reached for Andy's neck, his fingers pressing down on the carotid sinus—a swift, precise movement.

Andy collapsed, unconscious.

Karl wasted no time, pulling out an AutoDoc, stabbing it into Andy's chest to stabilize his vitals.

The dead stay dead. The living still need saving.

Once Andy was secure, Karl removed his jacket.

In Night City, acid rain was common, so Karl usually wore an overcoat lined with ballistic plating when heading out.

Now, it had a more important job than protecting him.

Dying was already humiliating enough. No one deserved to lose their dignity, too.

Karl gently draped the jacket over the girl's body, covering her exposed skin, her wounds, her humiliation.

That was when he heard it.

Engines.

Voices.

"That fucker and that runaway bitch are down here—MOVE!"

"Find them! No one crosses the Tyger Claws and lives!"

"When we catch him, I'm gonna gut him in front of that slut—maybe even have some fun first."

"Nah, I say we string him up, carve him up piece by piece, then turn it into a braindance. Let the whole city see what happens when you fuck with us!"

Six vehicles roared into the underground lot, packed with Tyger Claw gangers.

Doors swung open. Heavy boots hit the concrete. Guns raised.

"This place ain't that big—spread out! There's only one exit—he's got nowhere to run!"

A man stepped forward—his Shingen Smart SMG marking him as their leader.

But before he could say another word—

A voice rang out.

Not one of theirs. Not Andy's. Not his men's.

Something else.

Something dangerous.

"No way out."

A calm voice cut through the underground parking lot.

At the same time, the garage door behind the Tyger Claws slammed shut, sealing them inside.

"Because I locked it."

The thunderous clang of the metal shutters filled the air as the owner of the voice stepped forward, emerging from the dimly lit garage into view.

The twenty-four Tyger Claws froze as they laid eyes on the figure standing before them.

A black-haired young man, standing in the dim garage light—like a sliver of sunlight in the dark.

"Who the fuck—"

One of the gang members drew his gun, aiming at the black-haired intruder.

They had come here to capture Andy, a low-level street merc who had dared to disrespect the Tyger Claws.

But this guy—

This wasn't Andy.

Andy wasn't this young. Andy didn't have black hair. Andy wasn't…

...someone they all knew.

A shiver.

Before their hands could tremble. Before their fingers could hesitate on the trigger. Before their muscles could react.

Their hearts had already succumbed to fear.

Every single Tyger Claw standing there recognized the man before them.

Their faces twisted in expressions of pure terror, disbelief, and panic.

Not a single one among them was ignorant of who he was.

"KK!!"

The name sent a ripple of dread through the gang.

The mercenary KK.

The same KK who, according to rumors, had gotten bored one day and decided to raid a North Oak aristocrat's mansion, slaughtering the entire elite security force along with the high-ranking corpo himself.

They had heard the nobleman had died like a dog—

Whimpering. Screaming. Worthless.

What the fuck was KK doing here?!

They were just hunting some low-level punk merc who had messed with their business— How the hell did they end up face-to-face with KK?!

While the others barely held onto their guns, their leader tried to compose himself.

This was his crew. He had to stand firm.

He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet KK's gaze, then mustered whatever courage he had left and spoke:

"What's the meaning of this, KK?"

Worried about misunderstandings, he quickly added:

"We're not after you. Andy's the one we came for. Hand him over, and we'll be on our way."

KK's smile was anything but warm.

"I was waiting for you."

A bad feeling crept up the Tyger Claw leader's spine.

"I'll give you one chance.

Explain to me why you bastards have been kidnapping people lately."

"...Kidnapping?"

The leader repeated the word slowly, as if confused.

Then—

"OPEN FIRE! HE'S ALONE! KILL KK!"

Without hesitation, the Tyger Claw leader raised his Shingen Smart SMG, roaring an order to his men.

Karl had expected this.

"Looks like this runs deep."

He had figured they wouldn't talk so easily.

But it didn't matter.

If words didn't work, he'd just pull the answers from their comms.

Either way—

"They weren't getting out."

"HELP!!"

"RUN! SMASH THE DOOR! NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND FIGHTS KK!!"

"CALL MAXTAC! CALL MAXTAC! HE'S A FUCKING PSYCHO!"

"CYBERPSYCHO!!"

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