She might have complained out loud, but Rogue had already made up her mind to help. The attitude she showed toward Johnny Silverhand felt strangely unfamiliar to Karl and the others.
In their memories, the Queen of Afterlife had always been tough, cold, and meticulous about profit—never lifting a finger without weighing the eddies. This was the first time they'd seen her ready to help someone just because of a few words.
Wasn't Johnny Silverhand her ex? And exes… well, usually they either split in flames or faded into indifference. Even if they did stay in touch, their dynamic would be cool at best. So what was this? It was starting to feel like they were about to get back together.
Maybe Johnny Silverhand really did have a knack for dealing with women.
While the others were still thinking this over, Rogue's gaze shifted from Johnny to Karl—and with that change in perspective, the version of Rogue they were familiar with returned.
Sharp-eyed, calculating, full of that shrewd edge—that was the Rogue they knew.
"Name your price."
That was the first thing Rogue said after turning her eyes to Karl. She gestured toward the dog lying on the floor.
"The dog's yours. But now that bastard Johnny's taken it over, he clearly owes you a lot. Until I figure out how to get him a proper body again, name your price. I want to rent your dog for a while."
"Rent it? You're paying for that?"
Karl glanced at Johnny Silverhand. Even after fifty years, this guy could reunite with an ex and get her to help him—and even spend money on his behalf. That was seriously something.
"I was originally thinking a million eddies," Karl said frankly. "But I've changed my mind."
"You've changed your mind?"
Rogue raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
She didn't assume Karl was trying to raise the price. If that were the case, he wouldn't have said it so plainly. And Karl wasn't the type to pull a last-minute price hike. When he named a figure, that was the number—no matter what happened later. Every fixer in Night City knew that about him.
So if he wasn't raising the price, then what was his point?
"I'd rather have Mr. Johnny Silverhand earn the money himself than take it from you, Rogue."
Karl threw a glance at Johnny's projection. "I'm genuinely curious if Johnny Silverhand, after fifty years, still has what it takes to make some eddies. I want to see what a so-called legend of the old world can really do. That curiosity alone is worth delaying my payday."
Karl's phrasing was a little roundabout. To put it more bluntly:
This Johnny Silverhand guy was way too full of himself. Acting like he was the center of the universe—like everyone had to fall in line behind him—and the worst part was that people actually did.
That rubbed Karl the wrong way.
Maybe it was just Karl's own nature. Maybe he just couldn't stand another arrogant prick swaggering around. Either way, he made a decision: if Johnny Silverhand wanted something, he'd have to work for it—just like Q-Ball used to.
"I'll earn it myself, kid."
"My name's Karl."
Karl cut him off coldly, locking eyes with Johnny. "Far as I remember, only Adam Smasher ever called me 'kid.' Looks like when he killed you, some of his bad habits rubbed off on you."
"…"
Johnny's expression grew serious. Even his projection—which had kept its sunglasses on till now—reached up and pulled them off. He looked straight at Karl.
"You know Adam Smasher?"
"Sort of. I owe him a life. I'll return the favor once I get the chance—by tearing his body apart."
"Owe Adam Smasher a life, and planning to pay him back by destroying him…"
Johnny let out a grin that might even count as a genuine smile.
"You've got guts. I honestly can't tell if you're insane or if you've actually got what it takes to pull that off—but I like the attitude."
Then he turned to Rogue.
"Rogue, I'm counting on you to figure out how to get me a proper body."
The fact that Johnny Silverhand actually said the words "I'm counting on you" shocked Rogue and Kerry more than anything else. Back in the day, Johnny was the kind of guy who always caused problems—yet never acknowledged it. Or maybe he did, but he just didn't give a damn.
"You're Karl, right?"
Johnny locked eyes with him.
"I'll remember that name now. Congrats—you're the first one I've remembered since I woke up. And if you're really planning to throw down with that psycho Adam Smasher, count me in. That bastard owes me too. I'll settle that score personally."
"So you do know how to repay a debt."
Karl smirked. "I was starting to think the legendary Johnny Silverhand was the kind of guy who only knew how to mooch off others."
"I know you're trying to provoke me. Cut the crap. Tell me, Karl—what do you guys actually do?"
Johnny looked around.
"From what I've heard from Rogue and Kerry, you're a crew of mercs. That's a line of work I've never really done."
"Then you've got something to look forward to, Mr. Silverhand," Karl said. "Should be quite the experience—assuming you can actually get something done."
"'Get something done'? Kid, when my name still meant something, you were probably just a damn seed. Hell, maybe not even that."
"You take pride in being famous? Then I gotta say, Mr. Silverhand, you're pretty pathetic. All those extra years didn't seem to do much for you."
Watching the two trade barbs, Oliver and the others couldn't help but feel like they were watching two children bicker.
Was it just that both of them were difficult people? Or did they just not get along?
After a few more jabs, Johnny realized he was starting to lose ground—at least if he wanted to keep it clean. If he started cursing, Karl would probably shut him down again. So he changed the subject.
What really intrigued him was this kid—someone who treated him like just another guy in the room, even though he clearly knew who Johnny was.
It had been a long time since someone talked to Johnny Silverhand like that.
"Rogue… who the hell is this guy?"
"That's KK," Rogue said, glancing at Johnny. She knew exactly what he really meant by the question.
"You could say… he's the new legend of Night City."
"Legend? What kind of dumbass nickname is that?"
"Yeah," Rogue said calmly, "one that far surpasses yours."
Johnny went silent.
He always said he didn't care about reputation. But in truth, he was sharp enough to recognize one thing:
If Rogue claimed someone far surpassed him, then that person… probably had some serious skill.
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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