Four individuals—three men and one woman—in matching suits stepped out of the vehicle, drawing little attention from those nearby. In a plac
Four individuals—three men and one woman—in matching suits stepped out of the vehicle, drawing little attention from those nearby.
In a place like Konpeki Plaza, which attracted guests from across the globe, people of all types were commonplace. The group's appearance was nothing special. Apart from their strangely stiff facial expressions, there was nothing particularly remarkable about them.
Their vehicle was equally mundane: a standard Chevillon Thrax 388 Jefferson. While such a car might turn heads on the average Night City street, here—amid the sea of high-end luxury vehicles—it barely registered.
And yet, the leader of this unremarkable group carried a large suitcase. The way it swung slightly off-balance as he walked made it obvious that whatever was inside was heavy.
That alone drew the attention of Konpeki Plaza's security staff. They raised a hand, signaling the group to halt and line up for a standard security scan.
The scanner's blue light turned red the instant it passed over the suitcase.
A shrill alert followed, and the guards immediately tensed.
"May I ask why you're attempting to bring a combat robot into Konpeki Plaza?" one of the guards said, already placing a hand on his sidearm.
Bringing lethal equipment into the plaza was strictly prohibited—a fact each guest acknowledged when making a reservation. These four had signed the same agreement, yet here they were, openly defying it. No matter the explanation, security had to remain on high alert.
The group, however, showed no reaction at all. Their blank, indifferent expressions remained frozen. Before any of them could respond, a concierge hurried over—his face chrome-masked in gleaming gold.
"Apologies. You must be Mr. Jun, a pre-registered guest. The item you're carrying was cleared in advance. The mistake is ours. We deeply regret the inconvenience."
The concierge bowed a full ninety degrees, hands at his sides. As he did, the scanner's light shifted back from red to blue, and the alarm went silent. The guards stepped aside.
'So they were pre-approved… Someone must've screwed up logging their ID codes into the security whitelist.'
With the misunderstanding resolved, the leader—Mr. Jun—nodded silently and continued inside, lugging the heavy case toward the front desk to check in. Just as he and his three companions passed the checkpoint, a notification reached Carl and the team on the top floor.
"A combat robot. That's gotta be the group here to meet those Russians for the weapons deal," Jack said, watching the surveillance footage being projected.
"The Russians are the real deal," he continued. "Known arms dealers with traceable history. They probably think this is a legit business meeting with some corpo client. But this crew? I'm not so sure."
He eyed the screen as the four newcomers, instead of heading directly to meet the Russians, took their time checking in and claimed they needed to rest first.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "That face—they didn't even bother with a disguise. It's the same guy we saw at Afterlife."
"Hard to imagine anyone expecting the same face to show up both at Afterlife and Konpeki Plaza," V added. "Two completely different worlds."
Oliver nodded. "Most mercs wouldn't want to stay here anyway. The place is insanely expensive, right in the heart of the city, and under Arasaka's surveillance. Even if you could afford it, you'd be paying to get watched. Better off renting a decent apartment and making it your own cozy little corner."
"So basically, no one wants to stay here. Same point," V replied, eyes locked on the feed. "Do we have visual on their room?"
"Relax, I planned ahead," Carl said, giving his phone a shake. "Sure, they'll disable the built-in cams the second they get in. But we predicted their room assignment. I planted extra hidden cameras beforehand. We'll see everything."
"Classic Carl." Jack sounded impressed, then frowned. "But how could you be so sure they'd end up in that exact room?"
Carl grinned. "Of course I didn't just prep one room."
He popped open the top of his phone, plugged it into the projector, and the room lit up with flickering screens.
"I wired every single room scheduled for check-in today."
Dozens of feeds flickered and shifted rapidly on the screen. Even Yorinobu Arasaka couldn't help but nod in approval. "Being prepared is a good habit. But…"
He glanced at Carl's phone. "Is your phone going to survive this?"
"Don't let the looks fool you," Carl said proudly. "Thanks to V's upgrades, this thing's practically a portable data fortress now. Only downside is its bad habit of occasionally exploding. But hey—"
Carl reached into his pocket.
"I've got two backups."
Oliver glanced over but didn't ask the obvious: what if all three exploded?
Instead, he stared at the constantly shifting footage and muttered, "Pretty sure this is illegal."
"Nope," Carl said, placing the spare phone on the table. "According to Night City law, corporations are allowed to monitor their own property however they want."
"Never heard of that one. You memorize the entire legal code or what?"
"Nah. Just know the gist."
Carl flicked his fingers across the screen, swiping away empty rooms until he locked in on the feed for the room assigned to the three men and one woman.
"Bingo. Look at that—they're wasting no time."
Onscreen, the group had already swept the room and hacked the built-in cameras. Without delay, they popped open the suitcase.
Out came a familiar machine—
A Flathead.
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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