Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 635, Section 49: A Sense of Fate?
“Wyland, you’re back?” Claire paused in wiping the glass, her eyes slightly raised. “How strange, to see you with Carl and Oliver.”

As a bartender at the Rebirth Bar, Claire was naturally familiar with the signature mercenary, Chris Willan. However, when she caught sight of the two familiar figures behind Willan, she still raised a hint of surprise.

In this city, the bartender's ear is always pressed against the pulse of the street.

As far as she knew, Wayland had only returned to Night City last week, and today was just a chance for Roger to let him get used to the environment again. Who would have thought that in the blink of an eye, he would end up with Carl and Oliver.

“Your speed in making friends is truly astounding as ever,” Claire said, swirling her glass at Carl. “It’s as surprising as ever.”

They were all old acquaintances, so there was no restraint in their banter. Carl just shrugged and gave Oliver a thumbs-up: "He's paying, might as well come."

"Ha!" Claire chuckled. "Not surprising at all. Oliver's personality is such that he's born to befriend men."

"Hey!" Oliver slammed his hand on the bar, glaring at her with feigned anger. "I hold a grudge against that, Claire. I had a few serious relationships back in the day!" He pulled Wellan down to sit and tapped the bar. "Let's start with one round, on my tab—so that no one thinks I only drink with men."

"Aren't we just men drinking together?"

Karl muttered to himself, speechless, while Weyland chuckled as he listened to the three of them teasing each other.

His personality seems to lean more towards the calm and steady type, which is quite different from his father's.

According to rumors, Velan Old Snake was a rather wild individual. When he was selected as one of the top ten lone wolf mercenaries, the photos of him showed him as a bare-chested, wild figure, dressed like a wilderness man. However, it is possible that his father was too composed, which is why his son developed this kind of personality.

After all, there are plenty of sons who dislike their fathers and would rather die than become like them. To put it simply, Oliver disliked his father's calm and steady personality. To look further back, the loving father and filial son situation of the Arasaka family is still right before our eyes.

Whelan didn't rush to drink; instead, he placed the things Roger had asked him to give him on the bar. Claire understood, took them, and turned to put them into the storage cabinet behind her—Roger had already told her he would come to pick them up later, so they could be stored here for now.

"The usual?" Claire looked up at him and asked, the cocktail shaker in her hand tilting slightly.

Wellan nodded, his voice low: "'Johnny Silverhand,' ice."

“Another one who loves ‘Johnny Silverhand’.” Oliver swirled his glass, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I have a friend, Jack—do you know him? He’s a fan too.”

“Then his personality is probably just as reckless as Johnny’s, right?” Wei Lan said, tapping his knuckles lightly on the bar.

"So, you're the same?" Oliver gestured with his chin toward Welland.

Wellan's lips curled slightly. As Claire moved, Johnny's silver hand slid into his palm. He grasped Johnny's silver hand and shook his head: "It's not the same. I don't have that kind of reckless drive—"

He rubbed the rim of the glass, the coldness of the ice seeping into his fingertips. "If I had to live, I wouldn't have followed in my father's footsteps. But... I still have to leave something to look forward to."

The liquor gleamed amber under the neon lights. He paused for a moment, "It's a pity the old man didn't leave his own wine list in the next life, otherwise..." His Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed the rest of his sentence. The glass clinked against the table.

"So?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

“So I can only order the drinks of those bastards from his era.” Weyland tilted his head back and downed the drink, the empty glass clinking crisply on the bar. “Another one, please.”

“Damn it?” Karl rubbed his chin with amusement. “Looks like Johnny Silverhand isn’t much of a hero in the eyes of that old snake Weyland?” Weyland raised an eyebrow.

Carl's way of referring to the legendary rock star was too casual—in this era, apart from people like Roger who truly knew him, most people used the full name 'Johnny Silverhand,' which carried a sense of distance from the times. However, his curiosity was fleeting, and he nodded.

"The old man said he was a complete madman." Wayne took the freshly mixed drink, ice cubes bobbing in the liquid. "He thought he had some skill and charged forward with his men, only to be taken down by Adam Hammer in no time, not even needing any medical attention." He swirled his glass, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Once, when he was drunk, the old man said he felt terrible for a while when he heard the news, but then he remembered all the shady things Silverhand had done, and he forced back his tears."

"Tsk, it seems Johnny really had some connections back in the day."

Oliver swirled his glass, the ice clinking. There was so much information hidden in Wayne's words—the fact that someone as old as Wayne almost shed tears meant that Johnny Silverhand's past debts of gratitude were probably deeper than he imagined.

He counted on his fingers: "Morgan Blackhand had a good relationship with him, and now there's also Veland the Old Serpent." A strange smile appeared on his lips. "In the past, the three legends of the mercenary circle were Blackhand, Old Serpent, and Heavy Hammer—but he was the only one who didn't get along with Heavy Hammer, and in the end, he really did die at the hands of that iron lump."

Oliver suddenly felt he had something to mock Johnny, a perfect opportunity to get back at Johnny for his earlier taunts about not being able to understand the second half of a film: "Damn, this is really funny."

As Oliver spoke, Wellan noticed more and more the strange familiarity between Oliver and Carl and Johnny.

He was initially a little curious as to why Carl and Oliver addressed each other that way, but as Oliver kept repeating it, even he, in his naiveté, could discern a different meaning.

'Johnny back then?'

Johnny Silverhand died back then, so why are there still words like "back then" used to describe it?

The more Willan listened to Oliver, the clearer a conjecture became in his mind. He looked at Oliver and Carl again and suddenly remembered something.

He had heard about the KK team while he was out, and after returning to Night City, out of curiosity, he asked Rogue for more details about them. At that time, Rogue said something that he didn't quite understand.

“You can trust them. If something happens to me, and in my next life my son is unwilling to take over, then this place will belong to them. They have people they can trust.”

To call Roger, a shrewd strategist who had spent so many years navigating the world of street-level companies, a trustworthy person.
Whelan realized something.

'Could it be that Johnny Silverhand is still alive?'

As Wellan drank Johnny Silver Hand, he began to savor the taste with a slightly different aftertaste.

He said he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and wanted to live a longer life, but if that were really the case, he wouldn't work for Roger anymore.

Silver Hand Old Snake
If they are the heirs of the Silver Hand.

So, KK Little Snake.

Wei Lan suddenly felt a strange sense of destiny.

(End of this chapter)