"What's your name?"
After hearing Karl's words, the girl in his arms remained silent for a moment.
Just as Karl was beginning to suspect she might have passed out from excessive blood loss, she spoke—her voice barely a whisper.
"Karl. My name is Karl. KK works too."
He glanced at the girl in his arms and said, "If you're low on strength, stop talking. The less you say, the better your chances of surviving."
"But Karl, by talking to me like this... aren't you trying to get me to respond?"
Her already pale face grew even whiter—but in that moment, her expression suddenly turned serious.
Then, as if she were stating something of great importance, she moved her bloodstained lips and said—
"Haruko. My name is Haruko."
"Haruko?"
Noticing how formal she was about it, Karl didn't stop moving but responded nonetheless.
"In Japanese, 'Haruko' should mean the same thing as it does in Chinese, right? It means 'child of clear skies.' Were you born on a sunny day?"
"It doesn't really fit the gray, smog-filled skies of Night City, does it?"
Haruko's smile was dazzling—
As if, just by smiling, she could shine through the gloom.
"Maybe that's why I got hurt—because I don't belong here."
"Superstitious nonsense."
Karl wanted to scoff, but—
Looking at Haruko's face—so pale and out of place in the neon lights of Night City—
He found himself unable to.
"Just hold on a little longer. We're almost there."
Karl had thought about stopping a car, throwing Haruko inside, and making a mad dash to Konpeki Plaza.
But—
Maybe because of the ongoing gunfire in the distance, not a single vehicle approached.
The only car that had been heading in their direction took one listen to the gunshots—
And pulled a 180-degree drift, flooring it in the opposite direction.
"Damn, since when did people in this city have such good driving skills?"
He couldn't even steal a car properly.
How far now?
A normal adult male walks 1.7 to 2 meters per second.
Karl was moving fast—
Even carrying Haruko, he was practically jogging, covering around 6 meters per second.
At this pace, the remaining distance to Konpeki Plaza was less than a thousand meters.
Meaning—
He'd be there in about two minutes.
Can Haruko last two minutes?
Karl's mind flashed through his knowledge of Trauma Team.
If a normal person took a gunshot wound to the abdomen—
As long as no vital organs or major arteries were hit—
They could generally survive for about fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes...
How much time had passed since the firefight began?
If he included all the downtime and delays, then—
He still had about eight minutes left.
Plenty of time.
Karl suddenly felt a bit of regret.
When he watched Trauma Team braindances, he only ever picked combat simulations.
Now that he thought about it—
He had never bothered with medical training.
"Life lesson learned."
If Oliver were here instead, he'd at least be able to stabilize Haruko.
Karl couldn't do much—
If he messed with the wound, he might make things worse.
But this thought—
Vanished.
Ten seconds later, Karl was grateful.
Glad that Oliver wasn't the one who came.
Because if it had been Oliver—
He wouldn't have been able to deal with this.
Standing directly in Karl's path, blocking his way—
Was a massive, hulking figure.
Karl swallowed dryly.
His voice came out hoarse.
"This... is part of the test too?"
Haruko's starry eyes reflected the massive shadow.
A strange thoughtfulness appeared in her gaze—
But just as quickly, it vanished.
Instead, she let out a soft laugh—
And whispered—
"Perhaps... not."
Then, her expression shifted—
Into something indescribable.
"Looks like we're going to die together, Karl."
"Your eyes may be beautiful, but I hate corpo dogs. Dying together? Yeah, no thanks."
Karl carefully set Haruko down against the greenery of a roadside planter, letting her rest in a seated position against the plants.
Even in 2075, the planters still held real green plants.
Though... who knew if they'd be getting some extra nutrients today?
His movements were steady, making sure not to cause her any unnecessary pain.
Only after making sure she was settled did Karl turn his attention to the 2.5-meter-tall figure standing in his path.
A towering ACPA—both arms gripping a gatling cannon—blocking the road completely.
[Gatling Cannon]: A weapon with a caliber greater than 20mm, designed for continuous fire.
So it really was an ACPA.
Karl had been expecting this. Maybe even subconsciously wishing for it.
Was this... some kind of dream come true?
"Cat and mouse?"
Karl didn't believe for a second that this ACPA pilot had just noticed them and was now giving chase.
No—this felt deliberate.
The way the massive machine stepped forward slowly, purposefully cutting off their escape—
The way it waited, letting Karl think he had a chance before revealing itself—
Yeah.
This sick game?
Classic cat and mouse.
The ACPA pilot glanced at Haruko, but...
Oddly enough, he didn't seem particularly interested in her.
Despite her being the target of this whole operation.
No—his attention was on Karl.
Then, the ACPA raised its cannon—but instead of aiming, the pilot did something strange.
He tapped the barrel, slid his fingers down half the length, and then pointed at his own helmet.
Karl's eyes narrowed.
That gesture—
That meant only one thing.
"Ah... So it's you."
The pilot inside was the same sniper from before.
The one Karl had shot in the head.
The one who should've been dead.
"Guess I really should've finished the job back then."
The ACPA pilot didn't respond.
He just slowly raised his gatling cannon—
Like a executioner savoring the moment before the kill.
This was a ritual to him.
Letting his prey understand exactly who was about to tear them apart.
A sick little courtesy, huh?
Karl's breath stopped for a split second.
Then—
He turned and ran.
Because what kind of dumbass would stand there and fight an ACPA head-on—
With nothing but a pistol and some weak-ass cyberware?
Yeah, no.
Not happening.
"Trying to run?"
The ACPA pilot had seen it before.
The panic.
The desperation.
The futile attempts at escape.
He had torn apart dozens like this—
And Karl would be no different.
The moment Karl turned—
The gatling cannon roared to life.
Or...
It would have.
If not for the small object rolling toward the ACPA's feet.
A round, metallic object—
A grenade?!