“I owe you one, KK.”

Brick, still battered but now receiving basic treatment from his returning crew, forced himself upright and addressed Karl: “I won’t forget what happened today.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t have any warm feelings for you Maelstrom psychos.”

Karl glanced at him. “If we ever cross paths again and you’re an enemy, I’ll put you down.”

“Then I’ll be sure to remember this too.”

Brick gritted his teeth, jabbed a dose of painkillers into his system, and despite his leg being fractured in three places and both arms broken, managed to prop himself up against the wall.

“If you’re around, I’ll make sure Maelstrom stays out of your way. And if there’s anything I can help with, just ask.”

“Just make sure your lunatics don’t cause trouble where I can see them.”

Karl was no stranger to Maelstrom’s dysfunction. Brick might be in charge, but even he couldn’t fully control when some chrome-junkie underling lost his mind—just like Royce had. At best, Brick could keep a few in line. Still, if it meant fewer run-ins with them, Karl considered that a win.

“We already avoid that little Chinatown of yours.”

As the painkiller took effect, Brick’s pallor eased, turning the sharp agony into a kind of numb, tingling buzz. It helped him speak more smoothly.

“Anything catch your eye? Feel free to take whatever. On the house. Consider it repayment for saving my life.”

“I thought the favor you owed me was your life.”

“Killing Royce and helping me squash the rebellion? That’s one thing. My life? That’s a whole different tab.”

The multiple cyber-eyes embedded in Brick’s face flickered as he spoke.

“I know Rogue sent you for this job, and I won’t forget it. But I’ll also remember that you saved my ass.”

“I’ll never understand how you lunatics think.”

Karl shook his head. He didn’t have much patience for Maelstrom, but he could hold a conversation—even with psychos. If he could chat with that bastard Adam Smasher, he could deal with these guys too.

And honestly, if we’re comparing cyberware loadouts, Adam Smasher had Maelstrom beat hands down. So did his psychosis.

Karl looked around. He and Brick were now in what was essentially Maelstrom’s loot depot inside the All Foods factory. Stacks of stolen gear were piled up, meant for resale or personal use. The stash was impressive—pure military-grade—but oddly, no exosuits.

Karl had originally assumed Royce’s exosuit came from this stash, but now it seemed more likely Royce had brought it from his own hideout.

Even so, everything here was top-shelf Militech gear. No doubt about it—Maelstrom had been hitting Militech convoys hard lately.

Of course, the fact that Maelstrom was raiding Militech shipments was supposed to be a bit of a secret. Karl only found out because Blanca—someone inside Militech—mentioned it casually during one of their chats. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made the connection between Royce’s Centaur-class exosuit and this stash.

He vaguely recalled Meredith Stout—one of Blanca’s subordinates whom Karl had met once—being betrayed during one of those shipments. Several crates had gone missing. If they weren’t recovered, Blanca was planning to replace her with someone more competent.

After all, if a high-ranking Militech exec couldn’t track down a traitor after multiple leaks, what good was she?

And as for what would happen to her afterward—dropped in the bay or made to “commit suicide”—that wasn’t Blanca’s concern.

She wasn’t Meredith’s friend. No reason to shoulder the fallout.

For Meredith, this situation was critical. For Blanca, it was just idle talk.

And now, the goods were right here in front of Karl.

No joke—it looked like a Militech weapons expo.

“Militech anti-personnel mines, huh? I remember these. Not exactly great—too much delay after triggering, too easy to escape. Range is so-so. Honestly, Kang-Tao’s smart mines are better.”

“You know your stuff,” Brick said, leaning against the wall. “You been to Dogtown?”

“Yeah, made a supply run. Got dragged into all the promo pitches. Dogtown’s wild. Every corp there acts like their gear’s the second coming. Brochures everywhere. They even let you field test the hardware. Can’t lie, it’s impressive.”

As he spoke, Karl noticed a particular crate.

“What’s that one? Looks hefty. Judging by the materials, synthetic fiber and thermoset plastic—high-end packing. Usually reserved for something delicate or valuable.”

Karl tilted his head and asked, sounding like a customer in a showroom.

“That?” Brick scoffed. “Mini combat robot. Codename ‘Buzzcut.’ Prototype MTOD-12. Real high-end.”

“A prototype?”

Karl whistled. “If Arasaka found out about this, they’d offer a solid price. Then again, with how Militech and Arasaka work, I wouldn’t be surprised if their spies already stole the blueprints. Probably got a clone in production already.”

Intrigued, Karl lifted the crate, scanned it, and popped it open.

Inside lay a spider-like miniature combat robot—Buzzcut.

It gave him a weird sense of déjà vu, like one of those Terror Drones from Red Alert.

“What’s the spec sheet say?”

“Dynamic thermoptic camo plating, titanium-alloy fiber frame, integrated propulsion. Plus our own ‘Raven’ immersive cognition system. We built the Raven controller ourselves—syncs neural input like a dream.”

“Sounds like you’ve done some mods. Not surprising.”

Karl wasn’t shocked Maelstrom had tweaked the bot. Militech prototypes usually came with integrated systems that would ping back to their home servers. If you didn’t modify them, you might as well hang a neon sign saying, ‘Stolen Goods Here.’

Maelstrom might be wild, but they weren’t stupid.

Seeing this thing gave Karl an idea.

“Well, since you’re offering compensation… I’m taking this.”

He figured: he already had a robotic dog named Ball back home. The team loved that mutt. Bring back a spider bot? They’d lose their minds.

“I told you—I owe you. Take whatever you like.”

Brick shrugged. “Just be careful. Militech’s hunting this shipment hard. They might come knocking.”

“Militech coming for me, huh?”

Karl nodded at the warning.

“I’ll be ready.”

–

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