"Cyber-King Kong? What the hell is that?"
It was 8:10 PM.
Sitting inside Oliver's apartment, Jack had just finished listening to Carl's explanation of the job.
His face was filled with confusion.
Then—he turned toward Viktor, tonight's special guest at their gathering.
"Vik, you're a ripperdoc. Ever heard of something called 'Cyber-King Kong'?"
Viktor took a sip of his whiskey, shaking his head.
"I know most cyberware on the market, but I've never heard of anything by that name."
"Is it some kind of codename?"
Even for Viktor, this was the first time hearing about it.
"The job says we need to get intel on 'Cyber-King Kong' from some corpo dog named Tanaka."
Carl leaned back.
"Tanaka works for Arasaka."
"Which means..."
Oliver smirked as he connected the dots.
"This mission is basically Militech poking around Arasaka's secret research, huh?"
That much was clear.
Blanca wasn't acting alone—this was a direct contract from Militech.
Considering her role and Tanaka's company, even though they still had no idea what Cyber-King Kong actually was, they could at least understand the bigger picture.
Jack groaned.
"Militech and Arasaka beefing again? Jesus, we barely just finished a job like this."
"To be precise..."
Carl let out a dry chuckle.
"That was our last job."
Hearing this, Viktor sighed heavily.
"Looks like next time I operate on you guys, I really won't use anesthesia."
When Vik had upgraded Carl's cyberware earlier today, he had specifically told them to rest for a while.
Now, just a few hours later—
They had already taken on a new job.
Vik just didn't know what to say anymore.
"Can't be helped, Vik."
Oliver shrugged.
"The payout's too good to pass up. And don't blame Carl for accepting it. If you're mad, just don't use anesthesia next time he gets work done—let him scream a little, maybe it'll make you feel better."
"Wow.
"Really, guys? Just throwing me under the bus like that?"
Carl raised an eyebrow, looking at Oliver—
Jack, meanwhile, was nodding furiously in agreement.
"Alright, alright, I wouldn't actually do that."
Viktor let out another sigh, looking at the three of them.
"But before you idiots head out, come by my clinic first."
"I'll give you some meds and do a full-body checkup. No arguments."
"If something's off with your bodies, it could kill you in the middle of the job."
Carl nodded instantly.
"Of course. We'll stop by first thing the morning after tomorrow."
"That soon?"
Vik looked at Carl, mildly exasperated.
These kids—
They were just like him when he was young.
Always charging forward, never looking back, always throwing themselves into danger without hesitation.
He knew he couldn't stop them—
Just like no one could stop him back then.
The only thing he could do was support them from behind—
And hope he wouldn't have to watch another friend die.
Vik had seen enough of that already.
Oliver took a sip of his Go'rilla Ale, letting out a sigh.
"Man, being a merc is fucking weird."
"One day we're escorting an Arasaka princess, next day we're doing dirty work for Militech."
He leaned back, shaking his head.
"It's like corps treat their fights as extensions of their own limbs."
"And we're the knives and guns attached to those limbs."
Then, after a brief pause—
"Except we're the cheap, detachable kind."
"One minute, they're using us—next minute, someone else just rips us away and claims us for their own."
Jack let out a snort.
"Damn, Oliver. That was pretty deep."
Then, after a beat—
"But why does it kinda sound like you're comparing us to joytoys?"
Jack praised Oliver's analogy—
But after thinking about it, he realized it didn't sound great.
Joytoys:
A group of workers who sell their bodies through implanted behavior chips.
"Honestly? Not much of a difference."
Carl casually commented—
While shoving handfuls of Mrs. Wells' fries into his mouth.
"They sell their bodies for eddies."
"We sell our bodies for eddies."
"No need to look down on anyone—we all got it rough."
"At least we have a choice."
"How many of them can say the same?"
Jack blinked, scratching the back of his head—
Then frowned.
"Shit.
Why do I feel like you're making sense?"
"That's some real 'wake-up-at-3AM-staring-at-the-ceiling' kind of logic, man."
Jack then glanced at Carl's hands—
And noticed something concerning.
"Dude.
You've almost finished an entire bucket in half an hour."
Carl paused, mid-chew.
Then, without missing a beat—
"It's good.
I like it.
Why do you care?"
He swallowed another bite—
"Mrs. Wells gave it to me, not you."
Jack rolled his eyes—but before he could say anything—
Oliver pointed at the floor.
"Alright, I don't give a shit how much you eat."
"But this is my apartment."
"So if you drop another fry on my floor while talking with your mouth full..."
"I'm picking it up and shoving it straight back in your mouth."
Carl blinked.
Then—
He zipped his lips shut, miming a lock-and-key gesture.
His cheeks puffed up, still full of fries—
But he nodded in silent agreement.
Fair enough.
Talking with food in your mouth was pretty rude, after all.
Once he finished chewing, Carl turned to Vik—
And nodded.
"Alright, back to business."
"Vik, sorry about this.
We invited you to drink and chill, and now you're stuck waiting for us to finish talking about work."
Vik raised his glass, smirking.
"I got patience."
"Go ahead, keep talking."
Carl leaned forward.
"If we want to get intel from this corpo dog, Tanaka, we'll have to change our approach."
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
"Change our approach?
Since when have we ever done anything besides 'pull out guns and negotiate'?"
Oliver crossed his arms—
Then his expression shifted.
"Wait.
"You're not talking about—"
"Like, stealth infiltration? Blackmail? Kidnapping?"
"I've seen some Japanese BD flicks with this kind of setup."
"Fitting, considering our target's from Arasaka."
Carl stared at him.
"Dude.
Stop watching so many shady BDs."
Oliver grinned, shrugging.
"What? You saying I'm wrong?"
Carl sighed.
"I meant..."
"I'm pretty famous in Arasaka now."
"Every corporate employee with a functioning brain recognizes me."
"We can't just barge into Tanaka's house and bag him like some street-level gig."
"We need a different plan."
Jack nodded, finally getting it.
"You wanna disguise yourself, then?"
Carl leaned back.
"This job probably has follow-ups."
"If we blow our cover too early, Militech might give the next job to some other mercs."
"And that means less eddies for us."
"Can't have that."
Oliver snorted.
"Jesus.
"You're really a job-addict, huh?"
Then—his grin widened.
"But tell me—how's this any different from what I just said?"
"Stealth, infiltration, intimidation—hell, even kidnapping?"
"Sounds like your classic ninja shit."
Carl scoffed.
"Yeah, except..."
"I wasn't expecting you to actually reference something legit."
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
"Wait."
"You thought I was talking about—"
Carl's face froze.
Then—
"Shit.
"Never mind."
Oliver grinned wider.
"Wait, wait—"
"There's an 'illegitimate' version of this?"
Carl groaned.
"Forget it."