Karl stepped out of the truck with his Denshi submachine gun in hand—only to realize that his involvement wasn't necessary at all.
The group of scavengers, judging by their markings likely from the Raffen Shiv—also called the Wasteland Maelstrom—might not have followed orders properly, but with their numbers and basic coordination with the Militech team, they had more than enough strength. The Arasaka convoy, barely staffed with ten people total, didn't stand a chance.
Facing nearly a 4-to-1 ratio and caught in an ambush, the Arasaka team didn't even have time to return fire properly. They were pinned down the moment the shooting started.
Seeing this, Karl silently returned the chip he had pulled from his pocket back inside.
It was a smart-assist targeting chip designed to pair with his Denshi SMG, used for auto-aim functionality—a workaround for not having a Smart Link implant.
To be honest, Karl's aim was good enough that he didn't really need the assist chip. But as the saying goes, "If it can auto-aim, why bother doing the work yourself?" This Denshi was his "lazy gun." Yet even the lazy gun wasn't needed today.
No wonder Branka sent me, Karl thought. This job really didn't require me to lift a finger. Whether I was here or not made no difference.
Then he thought about Branka's proposed reward: picking two items to take home.
Now it all made sense.
So that's it. She figured I had nothing better to do and handed me an excuse to show up and walk away with some loot from a corporate op?
If Maine, Dorio, or the others ever found out he got paid in loot just for standing around...
Thinking of his reputation among other mercs, Karl adjusted his helmet to fully cover his face. No one needed to know.
Still, the suit was feeling more and more comfortable. He was genuinely curious what Arasaka was transporting today.
It wasn't Militech's first convoy hijack—not by a long shot. Meredith's team had done this before; the recent spike was the only new thing.
Surrounded by Militech personnel, unable to send distress signals, unable to identify their attackers, unable to leave any coded messages—the Arasaka escort team was wiped out in just four minutes.
On the attacker's side, they only suffered one casualty—a Raffen Shiv who rushed in too fast and took a bullet to the chest. Dead on the spot. No one else was even injured.
With the vehicles secured, the Raffen Shiv crew swarmed the armored car, looting bodies without hesitation.
They'd hit the jackpot—eddies as payment, a fully intact Arasaka armored transport they could keep, and maybe even salvageable semis. If they'd tried this job solo, they would've lost two or three dozen men minimum.
Despite their scavenger habits, none of them touched the cargo in the trucks before Militech's team arrived. The trust they'd built from previous jobs held strong. They'd already made plenty working with Militech—no need to burn the bridge for short-term gain.
"They're Raffen Shiv, right?" Karl stood beside Meredith, watching her subordinates chat with the leader of the nomads. "I saw the emblem on their gear."
"Some trash kicked out of their clans, turned into raiders lurking around Night City," Meredith said, tone dripping with disdain. "Don't even bother remembering their name."
Still, the slight upturn in her lips gave away her mood. The op had gone well, and she was clearly satisfied.
"Command says you get first pick—two items. After that, we haul the rest. Pick your truck fast though. Arasaka might send a response team."
She gestured toward the two cargo trucks—one overturned, the other with a crushed front end.
Karl getting first pick didn't bother her—not because of his rep, but because it was standard risk management. If anything had gone sideways—if one of those Arasaka guards turned out to be a high-grade operative or even a ninja—it would've been a massacre. Karl was the contingency plan. Trading two pieces of cargo for that kind of insurance? A steal.
"Alright."
Karl didn't argue. He chose to inspect the second truck.
When the cargo doors opened, inside were neatly stacked wooden crates, all sealed.
At Meredith's signal, a Militech agent dressed in Arasaka uniform scanned them with a cyberoptic. Once confirmed to be safe, he opened one up.
Everyone froze for a moment.
No one had expected what was inside.
"Apples," Meredith muttered, frowning at the fresh fruit.
She gestured for the agent to open another crate. Still apples.
"Weird…"
Fresh fruit was rare and expensive in Night City, but Arasaka normally moved luxury goods like this by sea, not ground transport. Why use trucks? And why apples, of all things? Christmas and New Year's had already passed—these wouldn't even fetch top market value anymore.
Frowning, Meredith walked over to the overturned truck and had her team open its cargo bay as well.
Due to the tilt, one of the crates had already rolled out. When opened, it showed the same thing.
Apples.
Still apples. Why?
While Meredith pondered why Arasaka would waste valuable armored transport on shipping fruit, Karl was already smiling—inspecting the crates.
He was thrilled.
Compared to weapons or cyberware, this was far more appealing.
He'd already gotten a fresh batch of guns from Mr. Kenichiro. Stock standard gear wasn't useful to him anymore. But a couple crates of fresh apples? That was a luxury.
While turning the crates over, trying to judge which ones had the best-looking apples, Karl noticed something strange on one of them.
A marking?
He glanced around at the other crates. The exact same symbol appeared in the same spot on all of them.
It looked like... a claw.
A sharp, hooked claw, gripping the corner of the crate tightly.
.
.
.
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