Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 756, Question 170: Hello, Lark
"Welcome, Aguilar."

Even Hansen, the king of Dogtown, showed due respect to the representatives of the Cuban crime syndicate. When Aguilar appeared at the entrance of the banquet hall, Hansen had already stood up to greet him with a carefully measured, enthusiastic smile on his face.

"Hansen".

Aguilar's response was as dry and cold as his hoarse voice, his hawk-like black eyes sweeping indifferently over Hansen's carefully prepared welcome: "According to the terms of the agreement, I am attending as the group's plenipotentiary representative."

Every word he uttered sounded as if it had been carved from an ice cellar.

This was nothing more than a tacit agreement—Hansen's influence in Dogtown was backed by the Cuban Group, but both sides knew it was merely a stopgap measure for exchanging interests. The so-called alliance was as thin as the faint, cold smile on Aguilar's lips at that moment.

Hansen seemed to have been prepared for this deliberate aloofness. He nodded calmly, his tone as familiar as if he were discussing yesterday's weather: "Come to think of it, it's been about half a year since we last parted ways in Havana, hasn't it?"

Hansen's deliberately friendly demeanor caused Aguilar's eyes to suddenly freeze.

Those razor-sharp eyes pierced Hansen, a dangerous chill swirling in their pupils: "Hansen, your paranoia is common knowledge in Dogtown." His voice was low, yet sharp as a poisoned dagger, "But you should know our rules—your probing just now crossed the line."

Aguilar took a slow step forward, his custom-made leather shoes tapping a cold rhythm on the marble floor: "According to the records, 'I' and you haven't met in the past six months." He deliberately emphasized the "I" in quotation marks, "Do I need to remind you which of my 'colleagues' you saw in Havana last time?"

"Then it seems I was mistaken."

Facing Aguilar's almost tangible, icy gaze, Hansen simply gave a perfectly timed smile and shook his head slightly: "After all, you know that I always have some difficulty distinguishing 'you' from 'you'." He deliberately emphasized the word "you," as if savoring the title on his tongue.

Aguilar's gaze dissected every deliberate expression on Hansen's face like a scanner. Their eyes clashed in the air, and the brief confrontation felt like a silent battle.

“I will remember this, but you must remember that my patience has its limits.”

In the end, the representative of the Cuban crime syndicate suppressed his impulse to act on the spot. Facing the Dogtown King, who could bring huge profits to the organization, Aguilar simply walked forward slowly and finally sat down on the sofa next to Hansen's original seat.

Just then, he noticed another unfamiliar guest on the sofa.

She was a woman completely out of place with the lavish atmosphere of the banquet hall.

Her wine-red hair cascaded down like a waterfall, each strand meticulously styled. Her gorgeous gown clung to her slender figure, yet gave the illusion of being imprisoned within its brocade. Her exposed skin was pale to the point of being almost transparent, covered with grotesque traces of mechanical modification, even her face showed obvious signs of alteration.

What is most striking is her back; her entire upper body is almost entirely composed of a sophisticated mechanical lock structure.

'this person'

Aguilar's scrutinizing gaze caught Hansen's attention. The King of Dogtown calmly sat down next to the woman and introduced her to Aguilar, saying, "Look at my memory, I forgot to introduce you."

He extended his hand affectionately, saying, "Miss Song Zhaomei, many people are looking for her, but now," Hansen's fingers lightly traced the mechanical interface on the woman's shoulder, "she's mine now, isn't she, Zhaomei?"

His tone carried a dangerous intimacy, and upon hearing this address, the woman named Song Zhaomei stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment, as if pulled by invisible chains. She nodded slightly and bowed to Aguilar: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Aguilar."

"Many people are looking for her."

A sharp glint flashed in Aguilar's eyes, as if he had seen through something in an instant.

He lowered his voice: "Could this be that one?" But then he stopped abruptly, as it was clearly inappropriate to say that name in this situation.

Aguilar then nodded meaningfully: "It seems you've caught a fish big enough to shake the whole world."

Hansen chuckled, but a dangerous undercurrent appeared in his eyes: "It could also be a marlin that attracts sharks and then hangs me on a streetlamp in Dogtown for all to see."

Using the idiom "The Old Man and the Sea" to describe his situation, Hansen unconsciously traced the rim of a wine glass on the glass table in front of the sofa with his fingertips. "But since you're here..."

He suddenly leaned forward, his voice low but clear: "I think we might be able to negotiate this 'deal' in a way that benefits 'us'." He deliberately drew out the word "us," with an unspoken probe.

“Us?” Aguilar’s ​​fingers traced patterns on his palm. “A vortex of this magnitude would be enough to crush us all to dust, Hansen. You know very well that the Group does give me decision-making power—” He suddenly leaned forward, his prosthetic eye flashing in the shadows, “but it certainly doesn’t include the authority to play a suicide game with some Dogtown gambler.”

“That’s precisely why it’s worth the gamble, my dear friend.” Hansen suddenly laughed, but the laughter didn’t reach his eyes.

He put his arm around Aguilar's shoulder as if he were an old friend, but his palm held a hidden strength: "How long has your Cuban conglomerate been coveting this continent? As long as I can reach an agreement with the 'qualified candidate'."

He glanced meaningfully at Song Zhaomei, "Do you think the new owner would mind if Dogtown, which already has Cuban blood, established closer trade ties with Havana? Maybe even if they manage to secure a partnership between the company and the group, it would be enough for them to move up in their positions within the company."

"If they really get hungry, they might swallow your Dogtown, you, and us whole, Hansen."

"Then don't let them go hungry."

Hansen raised his hand and gestured to Agilar at a secluded spot in the distance: "Even an insatiable wolf will have some reservations when it thinks about breaking its own teeth and never being able to eat again. Go over there, open your hidden channel, and talk to your superiors. I look forward to your answer."

"I will."

Aguilar stood up and looked at Song Zhaomei one last time before leaving.

"Hello, lark."

After saying that, he left.

After the Cuban figure disappeared behind the secret room door, Hansen toyed with the wine glass in his hand and chuckled to Song Zhaomei, "It seems that our friend's intelligence network is even more advanced than that of his colleague from six months ago."

(End of this chapter)