cyberpunk: Travel to 2075

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Imagine a Different Way to Perform the Mission

The target for Karl and the others was a scavenger group that had dared to threaten victor, located in Little Chinatown, Watson District. Coincidentally, it was close to where Karl and Oliver lived. The gang, likely thinking proximity gave them an advantage, tried to force their goods on Victor .In Karl's eyes, they were signing their own death warrant.

"Which floor?" Jack asked, dual-wielding 'Golden Lady' pistols, as Karl hacked into the apartment building's security system.

"Third floor, seven of them. Their weapons aren't noteworthy—seems they've just started scavenging. No wonder they thought they could threaten victor," Karl responded, his fingers flying over the holographic interface. "Give me a second, I'll link the security feed to your personal terminals."

He sent access requests to Oliver, Jack, and David. Even though David was just there to observe and learn, he needed to stay in the loop for his safety.

The screen flickered to life, showing a gruesome scene: human organs scattered across the room. David's face paled, and he leaned against the wall, retching violently.

"Take a good look. Get used to it," Oliver said, handing him a bottle of real water. "Rinse your mouth and remember what you see. If you don't build up your strength, you'll end up like that... part of the carnage. You've watched plenty of BD smut, haven't you? Why is this bothering you?"

David, still nauseous, took the bottle and swished the cool water around his mouth. "I watched a BD last night that was... intense. This is different."

Oliver sighed, his tone softening slightly. "The water in Santo Domingo doesn't compare, huh?"

David nodded, still surprised by the refreshing taste. Oliver's expression hardened again. "Get ready. Here's something else for you."

Karl handed David an oval object—a grenade. "Specially modified. It won't take down the whole building, just clear a room. Hold onto it and use it when I give the signal."

"A grenade?" David echoed, wide-eyed.

"We're not rescuing anyone," Karl explained. "No living people in there except the scavengers. They've already dealt with the victims. When we're done, I'll call an NCPD contact to see if we can notify their families."

With the mission briefed and gear ready, the team moved to the elevator. Their target: a large suite on the third floor, housing the scavengers and their grisly operation.

As the elevator doors opened, Karl scanned the hallway. Two civilians, hot dog vendors, stood chatting near their doors. Karl knew them from his surveillance—they had no ties to the scavengers.

"Clear them out," Karl instructed.

Jack tapped the wall twice with his pistol, catching the vendors' attention. He flashed the gun and motioned for them to go inside. Understanding the situation, they nodded and quietly retreated into their apartments.

"Let's move," Karl ordered.

David's pulse quickened, his hand tightening around his pistol. The weight of the mission pressed down on him. This wasn't a BD fantasy—this was real. The air was thick with tension, unlike anything he'd experienced before.

As they approached the suite, David noticed something shoved under a door—a flyer from the hot dog vendors. His prosthetic eyes zoomed in, reading the text:

Old William's Hot Dog Stand. Enjoy hot dogs with 80% real meat content in Chinatown, Watson District. Only ten euros for a family-sized hot dog. Call to pre-order!

"GG?" David muttered.

Oliver smirked. "If it's good, we'll grab some later."

David chuckled nervously, feeling the intensity of the moment lighten slightly. The mission loomed ahead, but for a brief second, the world seemed a little less daunting.