“Shit! We’ve got trouble!”

As the upper half of one of the guards was sent flying across the room, the remaining Tyger Claws inside the repurposed underground drug lab reacted instantly, raising their Nokota D5s and opening fire on the entrance.

But the crew-cut young man wielding a thermal katana had already vanished.

In less than a blink, he flashed past the Tyger Claws like a ghost. Every one of them froze mid-motion as he passed.

Huff.

With a calm exhale, the young man came to a halt in front of Arakawa Jin.

Exactly one second had passed.

Not a single drop of blood stained his glowing blade.

Schlk—shhk!

Blood erupted in bursts. Every Tyger Claw in the room—except Arakawa—now bore a thin, charred gash across their midsections. The cuts widened, and with a splatter of blood, their bodies fell apart.

As the corpses crashed to the floor like sacks of meat, Arakawa stood frozen.

How the hell had they all died in an instant? One second that guy was being lit up at the door, and now he was standing calmly, blade in hand, right in front of him.

“Heh… ha… haha…”

Arakawa raised his hands slowly, watching the blade lift toward him.

“Hey, look, maybe we can talk this out? They say surrender’s only half a loss, right? If I surrender now, is it still good?”

“I’ll leave you half.”

The young man said flatly.

Panicking, Arakawa went for his pistol, hoping for a last-ditch shot—but a flash of heat and light swept across him.

Thud.

Eyes wide, Arakawa dropped to the ground. In the final second before darkness, he saw his own lower half still standing.

He really did leave half… Why the hell did I say that…

With bitter regret, Arakawa closed his eyes.

“You’re on a killing spree, V.”

From the entrance, a voice rang out. Karl stepped into the room, surveying the carnage. “Took out the whole squad, huh?”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Oliver muttered, walking in behind him. “You and V are about the same.”

“Eh, better to wipe them all out while we can,” Jack said, bringing up the rear. “Less scum left behind.”

Vmm—click.

V powered down the thermal katana and tried to sheath it at his side—took him two tries to align it properly.

“Told you to get a side-mounted sheath,” Karl said, watching him. Then he gave V a once-over. “Still… you’re really starting to pull off the samurai look. Walk around with that sword and people will definitely think you’re Tyger Claws.”

“Not many outside the Claws use katanas,” V replied. “They’re a bit bulky, but paired with Sandevistan? Perfect synergy. I should brush up on more swordplay techniques.”

“I still prefer more practical stuff. Mantis blades, Gorilla Arms, mono-wire—things you can pop out anytime,” Karl said, heading toward the interior door.

Then he kicked it open.

Coincidentally, James Reddington had just reached the door, curious about the commotion. As he opened it, Karl’s boot slammed directly into his gut.

Launched backwards, James didn’t even register what happened before he hit the ground hard. The impact to his organs sent searing pain to his brain, and his body convulsed, curled up like a shrimp. He gasped desperately, but couldn’t draw breath.

As he regained a sliver of clarity, Karl loomed over him.

“Compared to the other James I met—the former New American lieutenant—you’re nothing but a sewer roach. Disgusting. So vile, I don’t even want to stain my shoe on you.”

Karl’s disgust was rare—but this man? He earned it.

“Guh… guh…”

James tried to speak.

He hadn’t seen who attacked him, but pure survival instinct kicked in. He scrambled to show his worth.

His mind raced to piece it together.

They’d killed Arakawa. Killed the Tyger Claws. He was the last one alive. What was the most valuable thing here?

Shimmer.

“I—I can make Shimmer! Let me live! I know how to make the purest batch! One hit and they’re hooked—I’ve tested it! Just two milligrams! Anyone from old geezers to twelve-year-olds!”

BANG.

James’ head burst open from a single shot. His body spasmed, then crumpled to the side.

“Still trying to disgust me.”

Karl lowered his pistol—Night’s End.

“I was wondering what’d be the cleanest way to deal with trash like you. You don’t just use this poison—you mass-produce it. Drag others into it. For that kind of filth, a bullet’s the most merciful answer.”

Crushing a roach? Even that would’ve been too kind.

Karl exhaled, as if purging the stench from his lungs.

He pulled out his phone, sent Dino a message: Job’s done.

And then noticed something new.

A message. From Chidame.

Short, direct. A contract.

“Banquet at Arasaka Tower, one day from now. To ensure Miss Hanako’s safety, we require additional security. The more, the better. €$150,000 per person.”

She was sending out contracts?

Was this from Kenichiro? Or Hanako herself?

Karl recalled what Kenichiro had told him when lending the car:

“Return within ten days.”

Was this what he meant?

.

.

.

🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep