Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 917, Section 127: Determination and Joining

Mann remained silent for a long time.

This is something we absolutely have to think about seriously.

Even if it was Carl who invited him, it would still be the same.

His knuckles tapped unconsciously against the cold glass. The clamor of the future seemed to fall silent at this moment. He stared at the swirling liquid in the glass, as if he could see in that amber luster the flames that burned his uniform when he left the new America.

Among Carl's close friends were two who had served in the military for the new United States before choosing to leave.

One was Johnny Silverhand, and the other was Mann. Both of them burned their uniforms when they left the army because of their experiences there.

Mann spoke up.

“Karl,” his voice was a little hoarse, “you know why I became a mercenary.”

"Ok, I know."

Carl knew a lot about Mann's past.

Those 'stories' that were casually told as snacks at dinner parties were actually stories of dirty tasks ordered during the new America era, and the bottom line that he eventually could no longer tolerate.

Mann had been ordered to stay in South America for two years. During those more than seven hundred days and nights, he carried out countless orders, and his hands were already soaked in the blood of innocent people.

Burning down villages and disguising the killings as attacks by hostile forces—one thing after another, these events eventually piled up in his heart, forming an insurmountable ruin.

His intense disgust and profound guilt led him to abandon the smooth path of promotion, and ultimately, as if in self-exile, he came to Night City.

Here, he rescued Dorio, and as if atonement, he sheltered Rebecca, Pila, and young people like Sasha under his wing, forming a team that felt more like a 'family'.

Perhaps it is this deep-seated distrust of the 'organization' stemming from his past experiences that has shaped him into who he is today.

But fate is fickle, and now the one extending an olive branch is a new force created by his friend, causing the scales in his heart to swing violently between reason and trust.

Powers and organizations, nations and corporations are all untrustworthy. In this day and age, orders from those in power only bring evil and mistakes. They never know the sins that their orders will cause, or perhaps they know but don't care.

Mann had already seen through this, so he would refuse any invitation from any faction. He had done this countless times during his mercenary career.

But what if it were Karl?
What if it were Carl, this friend, this friend who, in his eyes, had already changed the world and himself countless times?
So what if he invited me?
“During my time working for the new America, I was like a puppet on a string,” Mann finally continued, looking at Carl. “They provided me with weapons, just waiting for me to pull the trigger as they told me to. By the time I came to my senses, my hands were covered in something that couldn’t be washed off.”

He forced a smile: "That's why I'm a mercenary now. I don't have any status, and my future isn't as bright as it is in the new America, but at least I can sleep soundly every night."

“I understand.” Carl nodded, his eyes calm and devoid of any personal emotion, showing only listening intent.

“I’ve gotten used to sinking into depravity. Coming out of New America doesn’t seem to have changed me much, except that I’ve gone from a puppet on strings to a frame that has lost its strings and continues to fall according to gravity. But you’re different, Carl.” Mann leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’ve made such a big fuss not to become another Kurt Hansen, right? You’re not trying to build a new kingdom there.”

Karl smiled at Mann's words: "I don't want to be the king of dogs. I've already been laughed at today."

"The King of Dogs, the King of Dogtown."

Mann smiled as he listened to Carl's words. With the Chinese language pack installed, he easily understood what Carl was saying.

"So, I trust you a lot, Carl."

Mann stared intently at Carl, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
“I don’t really understand those complicated principles, but I have my own sense of right and wrong, and I believe you understand them better than I do.”

Carl nodded silently.

In this world, right and wrong may not be so rigid, nor are there any boundaries or rules, but he fully understood what Mann meant by 'right and wrong'.

That wasn't a legal provision, nor a company rule, but a very simple standard—based on one's own conscience.

In an era where human lives are sold off cheaply like expired goods on a shelf, talking about 'conscience' sounds like an inappropriate joke.

But someone will always pick them up, just like some people always pick up expired food from the trash cans behind stores.

“So…” Mann paused, tapping his thick prosthetic finger lightly on the table, as if making his final decision.

“So, I can work for you.” Mann’s voice became steady. “I trust you, so I’m happy to work under you, Carl. But this is only me. As for the rest of my team, I don’t have the right to make decisions for them. They have to make their own choices.”

"It sounds like a parent who has a very liberal approach to parenting."

Carl smiled at Mann's decision and extended his hand: "I'll talk to them, but first I need to welcome my friend."

Mann looked at Carl's outstretched hand and, without any hesitation, immediately extended his own large hand and grasped it tightly.

No conditions were specified, nor were any regulations established.

Those things are only matters of the terms and regulations, belonging to mercenaries and soldiers, but they are not important to friends.

All Mann needed was trust and conscience, and Carl could provide those, and Mann believed Carl could provide those, so there was no need for further explanation.

Their hands were clasped tightly together, but then quickly let go.

Now that the decision has been made, it's time to take action.

The sooner the better.

This isn't about being afraid of regretting it later; it's just that once you've made up your mind, there's no need to hesitate.

Mann released his grip and downed the glass of wine, which was no longer cold.

He stood up, his tall figure casting a solid shadow under the green light of the lamp.

“I have to go back,” he said, his voice regaining its usual roughness and strength. “Dorio and the others are all here. I will tell them about your proposal. But ultimately, their decision to stay or leave is up to them.”

“I look forward to their reply.” Carl also stood up, his gaze sincere. “Whatever the outcome, you will always be my friends.”

"I know."

As Mann spoke, he strode forward.

His silhouette now exudes determination, and his steps show no hesitation.

People who are determined and those who aren't are indeed different.
As this thought flashed through Karl's mind, he suddenly noticed something slightly amiss.

Mann seemed too absorbed in his resolve to remember to leave through the back door.

In other words...
"It's Mann! Wow, I see Mann!"

"Oh, it's the famous Mann! Look at me! Mann, where's your squad?!"

"I want to see lovely Rebecca! I have her personal candid photo album!"

Listening to the commotion outside, Carl silently finished his sweet tea, paid the bill, and then...

They slipped out the back door.

(End of this chapter)