Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 915, Section 125: A Different Kind of Chinatown
"Well, we've reached a passable agreement. While it's not exactly the same as before, there are still some benefits. However, the terms are a bit stricter. I've sent it to you. Let Gago handle it. Yes, let Goro Akechi help as well."

After sending a message to his companions who were still busy in Dogtown, Carl ended the communication.

Negotiating business with Dogtown and Arasaka went quite smoothly.

Since both sides knew each other well, all the tedious procedures—such as disputes over the meeting place, the guards' vigilance, and the mutual probing in words—were completely omitted.

The entire negotiation lasted only ten minutes from start to finish.

After finishing his business, Karl wasn't in a hurry to leave. He spent another half hour leisurely enjoying tea and snacks, taking a break from his busy schedule, before finally leaving after resting enough.

Even so, the total time spent from stepping into Arasaka to finally leaving was far less than expected, which was surprisingly efficient compared to the scale that this negotiation should have had.

However, Carl couldn't use the time he saved to rest, because he had to rush to his next meeting immediately.

While his companions were busy, Karl was still able to shoulder his responsibilities as a leader.

If he doesn't properly negotiate things, nothing in Dogtown can move forward. Even though experienced people like Gago and Mingzhi can handle most things, the major decisions concerning direction and interests still have to be made and signed by him.

However, Carl was already prepared.

Karl's previous thought was that with Sei-nobu around, he might be able to slack off, but now...
I've made up my mind to take responsibility.

This was not a responsibility imposed on him by anyone, nor was it an obligation he was born to fulfill. But since he already had the idea of ​​doing something, knew so many people, and had people under his command who depended on him for their livelihood, then Karl had the responsibility and obligation to do it.

Only when burdened with expectations will Karl not disappoint.

'Without realizing it, I've started to push myself harder.'

Carl chuckled to himself, then got off Delaman's car in Watson District.

He walked through the streets of Little Chinatown, the surrounding scenery both familiar and somewhat strangely unfamiliar—he hadn't set foot here for almost a month, and a month was far too long for this rapidly changing city.

Carl looked around at the newly built shops and the tourists chatting, whose identities were easily recognizable, and realized that Little Chinatown had unknowingly become a tourist destination as well.

"The Westbrook district used to be the most popular tourist area in Night City, with its bustling streets and entertainment venues like Genting Highlands. It's surprising that Little Chinatown, a once-poor neighborhood, now attracts so many visitors."

With that in mind, Karl arrived at his usual haunt, only to find a crowd of tourists gathered at the entrance. They seemed to want to enter, but were firmly blocked by the bodyguards, who wouldn't even allow them to enter the underground passage.

'When did the next life become so lively?'

Carl was speechless as he watched the tourists peeking in and taking photos at the entrance of the Laisheng Nightclub.

It seems the street safety in Night City has improved significantly, allowing them to come to this renowned mercenary hub, famous throughout the city and even the world, without any hesitation. In a sense, could this be considered one of those tourist attractions that Karl had heard about when he came to Night City?

However, while other people's travel check-ins are either at scenic spots or museums, they go to "the next life" to check in.
Aren't you afraid they'll actually be sent to the afterlife?

To be fair, most tourists who choose to visit Night City have something peculiar about them.

A place that feels eerily cold to walk into, a place that used to be a morgue, is now teeming with people. What's the difference between this and dancing on a grave? It's insane.

Karl stood there for a while. He wasn't blocked from entering the gate of the Afterlife by tourists. There was another entrance, as any mercenary who had been in the Afterlife for a long time knew.

The reason he was standing there was purely because he was attracted by the speechless face of Emeric Brunson, the bodyguard from the afterlife. The almost bewildered expression on that muscular physique was quite amusing, and he couldn't help but take a few more glances.

Emeric was really unlucky. He had taught troublemakers a lesson many times and stopped those arrogant brats countless times, but stopping a group of tourists who came to take photos and check in was probably a first for him.

After watching for about ten seconds, Karl, feeling he had had enough fun, was about to turn around and leave when he suddenly heard a cheer from the crowd of tourists.

"Did you see that person? It's Little Snake. I've only ever seen him in videos before; this is the first time I've seen him in person!"

"Chrispin Weyland, the son of the legendary mercenary Weyland the Snake. I heard he's the star mercenary of the next life. I never expected to meet him!"

"Wei Lan, little snake, look this way!"

Carl turned his head sharply and found his familiar friend, Chrispin Wayland, standing awkwardly at the entrance to the afterlife. He looked as if he had just been caught after being born, his dark brown face filled with embarrassment. Faced with the tourists' hospitality, he felt lost and helpless, unsure whether to stay or leave.

Chrispin Wayland is a rather introverted person. He rarely talks to outsiders except for those he knows well, let alone being treated as an important person and greeted in public like he is now.

His face was now filled with a sense of entanglement, as if he wanted to flee but had missed his chance.

Is this some kind of fan meeting?
Carl was now only thankful that he had disguised himself as always, otherwise he would be the one who would be embarrassed now.

However, it's hard to say, since KK's reputation is quite different from Little Snake's.
Could this be considered a case of his strange reputation saving him?

Carl glanced at Crispin again, silently prayed for his friend, and then turned and continued walking.

He had other important business to attend to, so Crispin had to rely on himself.

As for helping Christopher, that's impossible; we're too busy watching the show to care.

If Carl hadn't made an appointment, he would have stood there watching for at least half an hour, and recorded it, so he could show it to everyone when he had dinner with Crispin later.

(End of this chapter)