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. Cooperation..
"Would you like a can, Karl?"
Sitting in a private room at the Afterlife Bar, Blanca sipped her drink slowly. When she noticed Karl entering, she gestured toward an unopened can of Stupid Monkey on the table.
"Forget about Stupid Monkey. It's too sweet with all that high fructose corn syrup," Karl replied.
Karl sat casually on the sofa, eyeing the various drinks in front of Blanca before picking up a can of sweet tea.
"I'll just have this," he said.
The sweet tea reminded Karl of iced black tea from his hometown—a rare comfort in the chaos of Night City.
Blanca leaned back into the sofa after finishing her drink, her posture relaxed and lazy. "You've become quite famous in the city recently," she remarked.
"I know," Karl replied flatly. "A friend told me when I woke up."
Karl didn't see the point of this small talk. He was here for a job, not idle chatter. Normally, the process was straightforward: get the assignment, agree on the payment, complete the task, and get paid. Simple.
"Do you know who the ACPA driver is?" Blanca asked suddenly.
Karl's interest piqued. "Do you know something about it?"
"Of course," Blanca said with a sly smile. "Why do you think I have time to sit here leisurely with a drink? I got promoted to manage this particular mess."
"So this is the doing of your company, MilitaryTech?" Karl pressed.
Blanca corrected him. "Not entirely. I had no hand in this. The culprits are a group of young hotshots in Arasaka, unhappy with Arasaka Michiko."
"Young hotshots?" Karl frowned, recalling a cryptic remark made by Arasaka Haruko about a trial. Could this group be tied to the unexpected appearance of the ACPA?
Blanca nodded. "Ever heard of Arasaka Nobuyuki?"
Karl thought for a moment. "The heir to the Arasaka Group? The youngest son of Saburo Arasaka?"
"Exactly. He leads a faction within Arasaka called the Hawks. They're known for their aggressive tactics, often provoking disputes to gain leverage. They've particularly targeted Michiko Arasaka because of her ties to MilitaryTech."
Blanca explained how this faction sought to provoke a conflict between Arasaka and MilitaryTech by orchestrating the death of Michiko's daughter, Haruko. However, the plan had gone sideways, bringing an ACPA—a high-tech combat exoskeleton—into the mix.
"To clarify," Blanca said, "the real target wasn't Haruko. It was Michiko herself. She's seen as too pro-MilitaryTech for Arasaka's liking."
Karl shook his head. "Let me guess—the young Hawks and some factions in MilitaryTech worked together on this mess?"
"Exactly," Blanca confirmed. "And now we have fallout to clean up."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Karl asked.
Blanca smirked. "Because it concerns you directly. Do you know who piloted the ACPA?"
Karl raised an eyebrow. "Someone from MilitaryTech, I assume."
"Correct. His code name is Ten. He was one of the best pilots we've ever trained. And now, a group of his comrades—less skilled but still formidable—are seeking revenge for his death. Since they can't target Adam Hammer, who's now employed by Arasaka, they've set their sights on you."
"On me?" Karl scoffed. "So, if they can't beat Adam, they think they can take me, a merc?"
Blanca nodded, adding, "They won't bring in another ACPA, but they will use exoskeletons, which are within permissible limits."
"Great," Karl muttered sarcastically. "Do these guys have nothing better to do?"
Blanca leaned forward. "This is where you come in. I want to cooperate with you to eliminate these so-called ACPA elites."
"Why should I help?" Karl asked skeptically.
"Because these people aren't loyal to me. They were under the previous manager, who's… no longer around. I don't trust them."
Karl smirked. "So, if they were loyal to you, I'd be on the receiving end of their exoskeletons right now?"
Blanca shrugged with a knowing smile. "You understand corporate politics well. So, are we working together?"
"I'll cooperate," Karl said, "but I want compensation. You're taking advantage of this situation. All you need to do is provide information while I risk my life."
Blanca stretched out two fingers. "I'll authorize two MilitaryTech prosthetics without backdoors. Deal?"
Karl extended his hand without hesitation. "Deal."
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