Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 669, Section 83: Pure Love?

“Ages old enough to be his mother’s mistress.” David’s lips twitched as he listened. “Did I hear that right? Isn’t it that age enough to be his daughter and granddaughter’s mistress?”

"People's preferences are always different. Why should some people like small things while no one likes big things? That's a kind of discrimination."

Carl, on the other hand, seemed unsurprised. He had even met people who liked reptiles, so this was nothing more than a minor matter of age rather than species difference.

"But we'll have to wait until eight o'clock. Luckily, I know a good restaurant nearby. How about we go there for a meal? Old Mexican Stir-fried Pork, have you heard of it, Captain?"

"I've heard of that shop; we can go there for dinner later."

As the old captain was speaking, his phone suddenly vibrated. He glanced down at the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. "Wait," he said, "the employer just sent a new message."

"Adding extra requirements at the last minute? According to industry practice, that would mean an extra charge," David interjected.

The old captain shook his head: "It's not that we've added a mission, but rather it's good news—the employer has sent us a more detailed mission guide, saying that the target vehicle has a special storage device, and we can just search for it by keywords, which will save us a lot of trouble."

"Keyword search, that's good, it really saves some effort."

Carl peeked at the message on the old captain's phone and was then drawn to a word on it.

"White-nosed Eagle?"

Looking at this unfamiliar word, Carl frowned: "Eagle, for some reason, I thought of the bald eagle. Why does it feel like it's related to military technology or the new America?"

"It could just be a name or a label."

The old captain didn't believe that a single word could be forcibly linked to any particular force: "After all, this word might also be describing an item, a special animal, or a piece of equipment."

"Too."

Carl didn't dwell on a single word for too long. After chatting for a while, the group searched the surrounding terrain and then drove away from the vicinity. After all, if a car is parked for too long, it will definitely attract some unnecessary attention, and it wouldn't be good if the target became suspicious.

The waiting time passed a little faster than expected. After enjoying a delicious meal at Lao Mo's stir-fried pork restaurant, the three of them took a nap in the car, and when they woke up, it was time to leave.

"Speaking of which, is it alright for you, the middleman, to work alongside us?"

Looking at his watch, it was 7:40. Karl asked the old captain beside him, "Can you protect yourself?"

"At least I won't cause you any trouble."

The old captain grinned, revealing his teeth: "Of course, we can't let you risk your lives and not even be able to find someone to pay the bill, can we?"

"Ah."

Karl's lips curled up slightly: "Then you'll be part of the 'stay-at-home' team. If I remember correctly, you're also from Santo Domingo?"

"That's what I'm most proud of." A sharp glint flashed in the old captain's eyes.

As a car dealer who rose through the ranks in the car graveyard, he had handled at least eight hundred to a thousand modified cars when he left his company to go solo. In a cutthroat neighborhood like Santo Domingo, driving skills were a matter of survival—he even dared to guarantee that if he were to participate in an underground car race, he could easily make it into the top three.

"Then I'll just take advantage of your labor for free." Karl squinted and looked out the car window. A sleek sports car painted in silver-gray was slowly driving from the street corner, its headlights drawing two hazy streaks of light on the road.

"The Mizutani Jun MZ2 is quite common, but it's a very good car." The old captain tapped the car window with his knuckles, his professional habit kicking in again: "A five-cylinder turbocharged engine, this thing can accelerate from 0 to 100 km/h in 3.2 seconds, with a top speed of 285 km/h—a complete waste in Night City's road conditions." He clicked his tongue, "But the most amazing thing is its active suspension system, especially when cornering..."

"I know it's a good car, but let's stop the introduction for now."

Carl watched as the car stopped in front of the house they were monitoring, and then a person wearing a trench coat, whose face was obscured, got out of the car.

"Male, with a gun at his waist; judging from the size of the protrusion, it should be a handgun."

Carl glanced around, and several pieces of information flashed through his mind. He reported the information directly, and then watched as the person looked around a few times, seemingly checking if anyone was paying attention to him. However, because Carl and his group parked on a street corner, the person did not notice them.

Karl stared at the Mizutani Jun, his gaze sharp as a knife: "It probably doesn't have a high-end prosthetic eye."

He slowly stroked the dagger hidden in his sleeve and continued his analysis: "If it were the latest model from Qilu Si Optics, our exposed half of the vehicle would have been locked down long ago, but that guy's gaze," Karl muttered, "is like looking at a roadside billboard, he just glances at it casually and moves on."

Does this mean the target personnel might not be combatants?

David understood what Carl meant.

“That’s right. So now we can know some basic information. This person is driving a fairly common luxury car, and he didn’t have any bodyguards with him when he came to see his mistress. This means that his status is probably not particularly high, or at least the image he’s projecting isn’t very high.”

Carl's gaze was fixed on the man like the crosshairs of a sniper scope. He saw the man get out of the car and walk straight toward the target house, his leather shoes making a clear echo on the wet asphalt.

"Four short knocks followed by one long one." Karl counted the knocks in hushed tones, his knuckles unconsciously tapping lightly on the car door. As warm yellow light shone through the crack in the door, a figure appeared in his pupils.

She was an old woman who looked to be around fifty or sixty years old. Her appearance was unremarkable, even somewhat ugly.

"Is this the target's mistress?"

Although David was reluctant to comment out of politeness, he couldn't help but say, "That doesn't seem quite right."

"The intelligence indicates that the target has loved his school teacher since childhood. The target married his superior's daughter in order to climb the ranks, but in private, he maintained an ambiguous relationship with the teacher."

The old captain explained it this way.

"Pure love."

David listened to the conversation with a sigh, but Carl shook his head: "It may be pure love for those two, but it's not pure love for that man's current wife."

As Karl watched his target being greeted by his smiling mistress, he got out of the car.

"However, regardless of the circumstances, now is the time for us to take action."

Carl looked at the lights coming on in the house and walked towards the building. Behind him, the old captain had switched places and sat in the cockpit. David took a deep breath to calm himself down before each mission, then gripped his gun and followed.

(End of this chapter)