Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 886, Section 96: He's Lazy

Blanca didn't really understand why Carl was so determined to prevent the nuclear bomb from exploding.

For her, deep down she still seems to be the Blanca she first met Karl—still accustomed to climbing the social ladder through cunning means, and still holding an almost indifferent calm towards the lives of ordinary people.

All the experiences and education she received during her upbringing have been deeply ingrained in her bones and mind, and she never feels there is anything wrong with it.

If this is the result of being 'alienated' by the company culture since childhood, then she has indeed been completely alienated.

But that doesn’t mean she’s unwilling to do anything about it.

Even if she didn't understand, she was willing to help as long as it was Karl's will.

Because Carl was probably the only person in the world who could make her feel sunshine and warmth, every time Blanca looked at him, a sense of security would rise in her heart, and at the same time, she would understand:
What he did was definitely the right thing.

This might be somewhat blind, and her education made it impossible for her to logically agree with Karl's choice, but a deeper intuition told her that Karl was right.

Blanca knew what so-called deeper perception was.

She doesn't deny that her feelings for Karl stemmed from her being a woman, which led to these thoughts, but she doesn't dislike them and is even willing to embrace them.

And this pandering, even if it feels like a moth drawn to a flame, is acceptable.

As long as I can finally touch that lasting warmth, that's enough.

Moreover, Carl was always there, and the warmth and reassurance he brought were irreplaceable.

For Carl's sake, Blanca was willing to believe that some things were wrong, and also that some things were right.

This might be called blind faith, but Blanca had no objection.

So be it if you're blind. As long as you feel that warmth, even if you lose your eyesight, you can still find that warmth.

'Watch out, Carl.'

Blanca remained calm and composed in the command center of New America in Night City.

But in her heart, that resolute determination still remained.

She would not allow the nuclear bombs on the new American side to be detonated, even at the cost of killing the president and creating chaos.

We must never let the heat of a nuclear bomb touch the warmth that belongs to her heart.

absolute.

No.

"We need to move faster."

After ending his communication with Blanca, Carl unconsciously quickened his pace. He knew her—since she said those things, she must have been prepared, and her preparations could not be easily dispelled by a few words of persuasion.

In this matter of persistence, Carl had absolute 'trust' in Blanca; in other words—

If she can't resolve this within twenty minutes, she will definitely take action without hesitation.

I need to work harder myself.

Fortunately, with Blanca there, Carl already knew that Reed and Hansen had been in contact, and that Hansen had successfully escaped with the lark.

Although Carl couldn't understand why Li De, whom he considered quite capable, would make such a mistake—not killing Hansen even after discovering him, and failing to kill him even after appearing in front of him—the fact that he had contact with Hansen did indeed tell Carl Hansen's approximate location.

Perhaps, Li De is just getting old.

With the combined assistance of Blanca's internal network and the communication channels of the Ghost Hounds, Carl acted with extreme speed, avoiding all obstacles and quickly tracking down the target's trail.

Hansen has taken over overall command, and the Ghost Hounds of the Gemstone Tower are retreating in an orderly manner under the leadership of Bennett and Gago; meanwhile, the underground base, formerly belonging to the 100-man Ninja Group, has also received further instructions.

Hansen planned to rush to a certain location immediately after the nuclear explosion, the very place he had ordered the 100 ninjas to arrive at first. He would evacuate Night City at noon under their close protection.

The order was given yesterday, meaning that Hansen's most elite forces were protected from the beginning, and his guard lineup had already been determined.

He had already planned his escape route, and—who was destined to be sacrificed.

These people may never hesitate to sacrifice others.

"Your sacrifices are all worthwhile."

In the communications, Hansen encouraged the Ghost Hounds, who were unaware that they had been abandoned and were just waiting for a nuclear explosion to kill them along with the equally unsuspecting new American personnel: "I am Hansen, and I am right beside you."

Hansen's voice, transmitted through the encrypted communication channel, reached the ears of every Ghost Hound soldier still fighting fiercely outside the Gemstone Blue Building. His tone was full of power and an unquestionable sense of conviction, as if he were standing shoulder to shoulder with them, enduring the gunfire.

"Soldiers, I know you are exhausted and your ammunition is almost gone! But remember, you are the hounds of the underworld, the toughest fangs of Dogtown! The invaders of the new America think they can easily crush us? They are sorely mistaken! Every second you hold on is a fight for our future, for the freedom of Dogtown;

Every drop of your blood will not be shed in vain. History will remember this day, remember your bravery. The offensive of the new America has weakened. Their blood has stained our land, but they can never tarnish our will—for Dogtown!

His words were filled with undeniable power and inflammatory rhetoric, just like his past speeches in Dogtown.

Some have said that if Hansen hadn't become the King of Dogtown, he might have been a great agitator, perhaps even able to rally the masses like Johnny Silverhand in the past. And as it turns out, even as the King of Dogtown, he was still second to none in terms of charisma.

Upon hearing Hansen's words, a frenzied response erupted on the communication channel.

"For Dogtown!"

"For Colonel Hansen!"

"The Hound of the Underworld will prevail!"

These soldiers, mostly recruited from street towns or those who had nowhere else to go, were given discipline, equipment, and a twisted sense of belonging by Hansen.

In their eyes, Hansen was not only a leader, but also a savior who had rescued them from their confusion. They worshipped him fervently and firmly believed in the blueprint for the 'kingdom' he had drawn up. At this moment, the colonel's personal encouragement made their already excited nerves, which were already heightened by the battle, even more fervent.

Behind the ruins of the outer perimeter of the stadium, a young recruit of the Ghost Hounds stood, his face covered in gunpowder and sweat, but his eyes shone with an alarming intensity.

He gripped his rifle tightly and said excitedly to the equally scarred veteran beside him, "Did you hear that? It's the colonel! The colonel is still fighting alongside us! He said we will win!"

The veteran spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and glanced with a complicated look into the depths of the stadium, in the direction from which Hansen's voice came.

He had experienced more and felt a vague unease, but the fervor ignited among the young soldiers around him, and the deep-seated admiration for Hansen in their hearts, overwhelmed that doubt. He growled hoarsely, "Damn it, let those New America bastards see who owns Dogtown! For Colonel Hansen!" "For Colonel Hansen!" A suppressed yet fervent response rang out from the surroundings.

Clinging to the ruins, they unleashed their firepower on the advancing New American troops, convinced that they were defending their homeland, protecting Dogtown's independence and dignity. Their sacrifice was for a greater future, and their leader was with them.

Meanwhile, on the offensive side, the soldiers of the new United States were also fighting desperately for the 'justice' they believed in.

According to the Alvin Agreement signed by Arasaka and Military Technology, New America soldiers should not have been allowed to enter Night City. However, due to the talks between Arasaka Seigen and Rosalind Miles, Dogtown was blurred into Night City territory that was considered 'questionable'. Therefore, in addition to the agents, a considerable number of New America soldiers, who were the main force, were in the midst of the war.

These soldiers were unaware of the true nature of the war; they were simply told the purpose of their fighting, fueled by their loyalty and fervor for their country.

They came to eradicate Hansen, this traitor who had seized power, attacked the new president of the United States, and wreaked havoc and oppressed the residents of Dogtown. His crimes were unforgivable, and they had to kill this warlord, whose very existence was an insult to their new America.

A New America sergeant, hiding behind the burning wreckage of an armored vehicle, roared into his communicator: "Suppressive fire! Don't stop! Intelligence indicates that Hansen, that executioner, is inside. Take him down, and this war will be over! For New America! For freedom!"

The young soldier beside him still had a youthful face, but his eyes were unusually firm. He was a soldier who, like Johnny Silverhand before him, had lied about his age and had voluntarily joined the army out of patriotism. He believed the briefing from his superiors, believed that they were eliminating a warlord who threatened the stability of the region and liberating the enslaved people of Dogtown.

Every time he pulled the trigger, he believed he was fighting for justice.

"For the new America!" he shouted, advancing through the flying bullets and shrapnel. He saw his comrades fall beside him, but their blood only strengthened his belief—they must win, and the blood of their comrades must not be shed in vain.

The fear of death did not deter him; instead, it spurred him to fight even harder.

He would never let that executioner escape, and he would make sure Hansen died in the stadium to honor the sacrifice of his comrades!

The new American soldiers were ordered to hold onto the hounds tightly, giving them no chance to break out. They thought this was to prevent Hansen from escaping, but they didn't know that the real purpose of this order was to nail them and the hounds together to this land that was about to be completely destroyed.

Soldiers from both sides engaged in a brutal and futile battle in narrow streets, collapsed buildings, and dark passageways. Bullets whistled, explosions rang out, and every scream represented the loss of a life.

The ghost hound soldiers fought tenaciously, relying on their familiarity with the terrain and a surge of desperate courage.

The new American soldiers, with their superior equipment and strict tactical discipline, pressed forward relentlessly.

They all believed they were carrying out a glorious mission, that their sacrifices had lofty value, that they saw each other as enemies that had to be eliminated, and that every struggle they made was contributing to victory. But in reality, all their struggles were futile.

Because no matter how hard they fight, how desperately they struggle, how many enemies they kill, or how many people they sacrifice, in twenty or thirty minutes, all those sacrifices and all that blood will vanish into nothingness.

Johnny walked silently through the central tunnel of the stadium. He could hear the intense gunfire outside, as well as Hansen's seductive broadcast. He saw the blind fanaticism in the eyes of the Ghost Hound soldiers, and through the gaps, he saw the resolute determination of the New American soldiers as they fought to the death.

A deep sorrow and anger welled up within him.

How is this any different from him in the past?

So similar, so identical.

But what can he actually do?
Even if Johnny now possessed a physical body and appeared on this battlefield in person, what could he possibly do to stop this frenzied war of flesh and blood?

"It's just a few people pushing a group of people toward the death of another group."

Karl
You can succeed, right?

Good morning, Mr. Kurt Hansen.

Just as Hansen was directing his men to their deaths via communications while hurrying toward the underground shelter, a voice called out to him.

The voice was devoid of emotion, as flat as if it were discussing the weather.

But anyone who has heard that voice will never forget it.

Kurt Hansen's steps suddenly stopped.

Completely different from the dashing and dignified image portrayed in the communications—

At that moment, his back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He didn't understand why the other person was there.

But he knew one thing:

KK's appearance is always accompanied by death.

In this dimly lit passageway, where only the three of them were present,
Whom should death fall upon?

For KK, there might not be any need to think at all.

But Hansen was, after all, a warlord who had experienced the horrors of war and controlled Dogtown for many years. Almost instantly, he regained control of his reaction. He slowly turned around, trying to put on a calm and even slightly arrogant expression, even though his heart was pounding like a drum.

Standing in the shadows of the passageway was Karl. He looked travel-worn, his clothes dusty and wrinkled, appearing quite disheveled. However, his eyes were indifferent, fixed on Hansen without any extra emotion.

"KK," Hansen said hoarsely, his voice lacking the deep resonance of his radio broadcast, tinged with a barely perceptible tremor, "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to take care of something."

"If it's something that requires your involvement, it must be something significant."

"Do not."

Karl shook his head slightly and looked at Hansen.

"It's just a small thing."

Almost at the same instant, Hansen felt a chill.

After that, he learned what a small matter was.

He seemed to see a glimmer of silver light, yet he also seemed to see nothing at all.

Darkness surged in like a tide, swallowing up all light and sound. Before Hansen could even think of the next step, his consciousness began to dissipate.

There was no explanation, no further dialogue.

Time was of the essence, and Karl was lazy.

So he couldn't be bothered to say a word more.

(End of this chapter)