"Vrrrmmm—"
Sitting inside the newly upgraded Herrera, Karl listened to the smooth rumble of the engine while scrolling through the mission briefing.
"Cyberpsycho Series: Karl vs. MaxTac, Karl vs. Arasaka Agents, Karl vs. Nomads, Karl vs. Scavs..."
Karl's expression twisted with frustration.
"I'll admit to all of those. Even if they brand it 'Cyberpsycho,' I can tolerate it—because yeah, I actually did those things. But what the hell are these later titles?"
V glanced over and skimmed a few more lines from the BD list:
"Karl's One Night Stand with a Sexbot"
"A Day of Bliss at Clouds"
"Karl's Wild Night with a 7'6" Animal Gang Musclehead"
And those weren't even the worst. After just two lines, V's eyes were already begging for bleach.
Come to think of it, it made sense why Karl didn't mind the Cyberpsycho ones anymore. Compared to these… they were practically documentaries.
V imagined someone with Karl's face tangled up in some depraved scene and had to look away.
"No survivors," Jack muttered from the passenger seat, trying to reassure Karl—who was, yet again, an unwilling BD icon.
"Whoever thought this was okay is about to learn the price."
"If they'd just used Karl's face and name, maybe he'd have let it slide," Oliver said from the driver's seat, weaving through morning traffic toward Heywood. "But this? This is something else."
T-BUG had already done recon while munching her weird breakfast. The illegal BD studio had nine people, mostly former Scavs. They ditched their old business after realizing bootleg braindances were more profitable. One of them even had plastic surgery to look like Karl, and now they were churning out black-market BDs starring their fake Karl—and making bank doing it.
"They're doing so well," T-BUG added through comms, "that if pirated BDs counted on the charts, their best-selling one would've made this month's Top 10 in Night City."
She was clearly trying not to laugh.
"Karl, want to guess which one's their hottest seller?"
"I don't want to know. In fact, I never wanted to know any of this," Karl groaned. "This is harassment."
"Relax. It's not one of the freak-show ones," T-BUG said, her tone softening a little.
"It's actually that black BD you guys did with the ex-New America lieutenant. Remember? JK filmed it—before he died. You, Jack, and Oliver all appeared. Fans loved the 'squad-up' vibe. It sold way better than typical BDs. And these guys? They pirated it better than anyone."
"Oh great, should I send them a thank-you basket?" Karl grumbled.
"That was the James Norris mission, right? Had everyone in it. MaxTac, NCPD, a cyberpsycho on the run…"
"If that BD had an actual combat sequence, it would've topped every chart," T-BUG agreed.
"Anyway, once you shut them down, try to trace where they're getting source material. With JK gone, someone new's stepped in—another editor, another director. I'm already tracing their network. They need to learn: you don't mess with full-access, modifiable BD archives."
"Following the net to their doorstep? Sounds good. Otherwise, we'll be doing this again next month," Karl muttered.
Oliver checked the nav—less than two kilometers to the target—when two cars in front of them suddenly crashed.
No—one was rammed.
A truck smashed sideways into a sedan with violent precision.
The sedan was clearly armored—only a shallow dent remained—but the force of the impact still spun it off course, sending it skidding toward a roadside barrier.
Oliver slammed the brakes. The road was already narrow, and now completely blocked.
"What the hell was that?" V asked.
The others? Calm as ice.
"Cargo snatch or a kidnapping. That kind of crash isn't meant to kill," Oliver said flatly.
Through the windshield, they watched the situation unfold.
The truck's cargo doors flew open. Several armored gunmen jumped out, joining the driver and passenger. Guns drawn, they surrounded the sedan.
"Wanna bet?" Oliver asked, not missing a beat. "Loser buys drinks tonight."
Jack smirked. "Terms?"
"Cargo or hostage?"
"Hostage."
"Cool. I've got cargo. Let's see who wins."
T-BUG chimed in.
"I was going to say 'both,' but you two already snagged the obvious ones."
"Watch closely," Jack said. "Here comes the VIP."
Right on cue, the gunmen dragged a suited man from the car, forced him to his knees, guns pointed at his head.
"...Looks like we both lost," Jack muttered.
The squad loaded the man into the truck—then went back for something else from the sedan.
"So... joint tab it is," Oliver shrugged.
He was about to let them drive off when something caught his eye.
A blinking red light inside the open truck bed.
His brow furrowed.
That light…
It looked a little too much like a bomb's ignition indicator.
"Something's wrong. Heads up!" Oliver snapped.
The warning barely left his mouth when a blinding flash of fire erupted from the truck.
By the time the sound hit Karl's ears, the fireball had already engulfed everything nearby.
The attackers never stood a chance—vaporized instantly.
The explosion tore through the truck, warped metal twisting and flying as the inferno surged forward, hurtling straight toward the Herrera.
"Son of a bitch! Were they carrying a bomb?!" Oliver shouted.
Sandevistan activated.
.
.
.
🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless
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