cyberpunk: Travel to 2075

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Seeing the World and the End of the Night

"Karl, we're here to pick you up... wait, who's the tagalong?"

Oliver parked the sleek, matte-black Sky Hera on the side of the road. As he and Jack, seated in the passenger seat, greeted Karl, their eyes immediately shifted to the young boy trailing behind him—David. The boy's wide-eyed gaze darted between the towering skyscrapers and the bustling street, clearly out of his element.

"Taking him to see the world," Karl said nonchalantly, his face calm but focused, scanning the area before subtly adjusting the camera nearby. He effortlessly wiped the digital trace of their presence, a testament to his well-honed skills. With a simple gesture, he invited David to climb into the back seat.

"See the world?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with skepticism. He turned to Jack, who shared the same puzzled expression. "A student seeing the world?"

Karl slid into the front seat, his features shifting back to his own, the neural integration complete. "He needs to learn how to handle himself in the real world. We're not just babysitting here. If he doesn't learn now, he might end up as another statistic, shot by some street punk."

Oliver's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a half-mocking tone. "Aren't you worried about leading him down the wrong path? Kid's still in school, Karl."

Karl leaned back, his tone unflinching. "Better to know how to defend himself than to end up dead. The streets won't care if he's a student or not."

David, sitting stiffly in the back, shifted nervously under Oliver's gaze. His hands clutched his knees, and despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded firmly. "I want to learn how to protect myself and my mother. If we ever face a cyberpsycho... I want to stand a chance."

Oliver chuckled darkly, his amusement evident. "A gun won't save you from a cyberpsycho. But against gangsters? Yeah, you'll need it. You've got guts, kid. From Santo Domingo, huh? Makes sense. If the Sixth Street Gang was still around, I might've introduced you to my dad."

"Cut it, Oliver," Jack chimed in, rolling his eyes. "You barely lasted a week with the Sixth Street. And joining a gang isn't the answer. We're teaching him survival, not how to get stuck in the mud."

Oliver smirked but relented, starting the engine. "Fair enough. Let's get this over with."

Karl glanced back at David, his voice softening. "After this, I'll cook you a real pork meal. Take some home for your mom, too. Tell her you made a new friend at the academy."

David's eyes widened in surprise. "Real pork? Are you serious?"

Karl nodded with a small smile. "Yeah. Food's meant to heal the soul, and your mom could use a good meal. It'll be our little secret."

Oliver chuckled. "Now you've got me curious about your cooking skills, Karl. Let's see if it lives up to the hype."

The cityscape blurred past the windows, the neon lights reflecting off David's face as he took in the sights. His earlier nerves started to ebb, replaced by a growing curiosity. Karl handed him a small, sleek object.

"Here, take this."

David's breath hitched as he recognized the pistol. "A gun?"

Karl nodded. "Kenshin. Light recoil, easy to handle. Time to learn how to use it. This isn't just a sightseeing tour."

David hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he held the weapon. "I've never... I mean, I don't know how—"

"That's why we're here," Karl interrupted gently. "First, your grip. Both hands, like this. Keep it firm, but don't squeeze it too tight. Think of it like holding a door handle."

Jack leaned over from the front seat, adding, "And keep track of your shots. You don't want to run out when it matters."

David nodded, his confidence inching forward as he adjusted his grip under Karl's guidance. Oliver glanced back, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You're a fast learner. But Karl, if he's got Kenshin, what about you?"

Without missing a beat, Karl pulled out a modified Lexington, its sleek design catching the dim light. "I've got this. Upgraded for more power and fitted with a blade underneath. I call it 'End of Night.'"

Oliver let out a low whistle. "Now that's something."

David's eyes widened as he admired the weapon, feeling a strange sense of belonging slowly replace his fear. He was stepping into a new world, one where survival depended on skills he was just beginning to learn.

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