"Hansen's spread isn't Arasaka Tower-level, sure, but damn—it's still miles better than what we usually eat. This beef? Rich, tender... no w
"Hansen's spread isn't Arasaka Tower-level, sure, but damn—it's still miles better than what we usually eat. This beef? Rich, tender... no way this came cheap."
V chewed and swallowed a piece of steak, then glanced over at Kenichi Hoya and Hansen, still chatting on the sofa. He nudged Karl, who was also working on a plate of grilled meat.
"Karl, we done here? I mean, nothing left for us to do, right?"
"What's left to do? One of Hansen's bodyguards already left… You notice that guy? His eyes were special—probably equipped for braindance recording. Wouldn't be surprised if that whole negotiation we just had is already clipped and packaged. Hansen's probably planning to use that BD as proof of his 'neutrality.'"
He speared another chunk of steak and chewed. After swallowing, he looked around.
"Where'd Jack and Oliver go? Skipping grilled beef? What could possibly be better?"
"I doubt they're that into food," V said—just as he spotted Oliver walking their way. He waved him over with his fork. "Oliver! Get over here. The beef's amazing."
"You two just parked yourselves by the buffet, huh?"
"Place is full of people talking shop. No one's eating. We're doing our civic duty here—can't let this fresh-off-the-grill beef go to waste," Karl said, chomping another piece.
"Where'd you go? Hit the gambling tables?"
"Not my scene," Oliver replied, grabbing a plate and helping himself. "But guess who I saw."
"Who?"
V raised a brow. "You and Jack vanished after Hansen's pitch. We figured you were scoping something. So, who'd you run into?"
"Not quite a friend. More like… a nemesis."
Oliver smirked. "Will Cannon."
"That the guy who got you kicked out of 6th Street barely two weeks in? The one making a play for gang leadership?"
V had heard bits and pieces of that story. He glanced around. "Where is he? Want us to take him out?"
Karl jumped in, nodding. "I like that idea. But not here—this is Hansen's turf. We just cut a deal. Let's have T-Bug track Cannon. We'll hit him on the move."
"Let's not."
Oliver wasn't completely opposed to it, but his father was still in 6th Street, and his sister worked as a ripperdoc in Santo Domingo.
"We could take Cannon out, sure. But he's got loyal guys. Now's not the time. There'd be blowback—and the gang boss wouldn't exactly be thrilled either."
Cannon might be challenging for control, but he was still technically a 6th Street member. Killing him meant consequences—and Oliver's family would be caught in the middle.
"Being in a gang's like having a shield, huh," V muttered.
"Won't be long now, though." Oliver leaned in. "When I saw Cannon, he was talking to someone—guy had a Cat's Claw tattoo. Here, at Hansen's party, sneaking around with Cat's Claw? Doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's planning."
"Hard to judge before it happens," Karl replied, raising a brow. "But Cat's Claw, huh… That reminds me of 6th Street and the Slaughterhouse Boys."
"Same shit, different name," Oliver shrugged. "Gangs are all the same."
Thud. Thud.
Heavy footsteps interrupted their conversation. A towering figure approached, blocking the light with her massive frame.
Looking up through the shadows, V recognized her immediately. "Savage Queen?"
"Didn't expect to see you here," she said.
She looked even more jacked than the last time they fought. Her eyes scanned Karl and Oliver, then landed on V.
"I was outside checking out the artificial waterfall. Had I known you were here, I'd have come over sooner."
"What? Looking for another round?" V asked, smirking. "This time, I could take you solo."
"You're confident, V. But I'm not here to stir trouble. Just stationed nearby—figured I'd swing by."
She glanced again at V, clearly noting his change in energy.
"But now that I see you, I remembered something. Heard you lined up a merc team as bodyguards for Kerry Eurodyne. If you've got more gigs, the Animals are always open to work."
"Damn, word travels fast," Karl said. "Didn't think Animals had their ears to the ground like that."
"Not exactly. But in this line of work, stuff like that gets around. Especially when a whole security team gets fired, like Kerry's last crew. People talk."
"Every pro's got their domain."
Karl threw out a phrase she didn't quite catch, then shook his head. "Anyway, we just met Kerry by chance. No other gigs. Sorry."
Savage Queen blinked. She wasn't expecting such a sincere, polite answer. Karl even apologized for not being able to help—like he actually meant it.
Street mercs weren't supposed to be this... decent.
So this is the real Karl?
She felt like her worldview shifted just a little.
At that moment, Jack strode into view, moving quickly, eyes lit up.
"Guess what I just landed!?"
He didn't even wait to reach them. His excitement was palpable.
"I scored us a big one!"
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