"It's only been a few hours, Lied. Why do you look different again?"
At the location Lied had provided, Karl finally met up with him. Lied had now taken on the appearance of a broad-shouldered Black man, bearing a resemblance to his original form but clearly altered.
"To avoid being tracked, I forged a new identity."
Lied gave a simple explanation, then glanced at Karl's face. "And that face of yours…?"
"It should be in your intel records. This was how I looked back at Arasaka Academy—made a few adjustments."
Karl added, "The ID registration and camera footage for this face are already logged at the hotel. If everything goes according to plan, I can return there under that identity, spend the night, and walk out the front gate tomorrow."
"Things might not go that smoothly."
Lied remembered Karl had left the hotel with a young woman. Judging by what Karl had just said…
He didn't deal with the potential witness?
Lied filed that concern away mentally, then continued, "I don't have any means of contacting the hacker. If you want to finish this quickly and return to the hotel, we'll need to move fast."
"No way to contact him? So we're knocking on his door in person? That explains a lot—I was wondering why something you could handle alone suddenly needed both of us."
The hacker they were about to visit was one of the defectors from the Voodoo Boys—a group Karl had a bloody history with.
So when Lied first suggested they go together, Karl had been suspicious. But now it made sense: without a way to contact the guy remotely, they had no choice but to personally "invite" him.
"So, is this hacker actually reliable? Can you really get him to help us?"
"He owes the Intelligence Agency," Lied replied succinctly, and took the lead.
The base where the ex–Voodoo Boys hackers operated wasn't far from where Karl and Lied had met.
To avoid detection by Hellhounds, they stuck to narrow alleys and shielded backstreets. Despite the slower pace, after about five minutes, they reached their destination—a dim and eerie-looking building.
Under the blue glow of a voodoo symbol projected over the doorway—probably via external lighting—the entrance gave off a ghostly vibe. Karl had to admit: his stereotypical image of the Voodoo Boys was only getting stronger.
Whether current members or defectors, it seemed like they all chose places that looked haunted as hell. Creepy voodoo symbols, dim lighting… This place could pass for a haunted house at a theme park.
"This used to be a spa," Lied explained. "Construction never finished. It got abandoned, and some Haitians took it over."
"Another classic unfinished Pacifica building. Guess I should be used to this by now."
As they chatted, Karl and Lied pushed open the spa's iron door. It creaked slightly as they stepped into an even darker interior.
"Not bad. Security's tight," Karl observed.
Through a barred window near the entrance, he could see deeper into the facility.
"Cameras, guards on watch… These guys are well-equipped. Weren't they just Voodoo Boys defectors? Feels like they've got better gear than the Voodoo Boys themselves."
"In Dogtown, if your gear isn't top-tier, you don't survive. Even the Scavs here are some of the toughest in the city."
"Fair enough."
After a quick scan, Karl asked over the comms, "So who exactly are we looking for? Can we spot him from here?"
"Wilkie Laguerre. That's his name. But on the street, everyone calls him Slidewire. Shouldn't be hard to find him—he took damage to his occipital lobe. Without a direct neural link, he's blind. Even optical implants can't help him. We just need to look for someone wired directly into the Net."
"Wilkie Laguerre doesn't ring a bell… but Slidewire? That name I've heard. Back when the Voodoo Boys were treating us like dirt, they tried sending someone to take him out."
"He's blind, huh…"
Karl sounded intrigued. "If they still wanted him dead, then he must've been good."
It was basic logic.
The Voodoo Boys weren't known for mercy. For Slidewire to split from them and survive, especially being blind, he had to be damn good. If not, the gang would've wiped him out long ago—long before Karl and his team brought the Voodoo Boys down.
"A traitor who turned informant, spilled blood, and lived to tell the tale… Trash among trash. If he's still alive, it means he's got skills," Lied said with cold pragmatism. "And that's why we're here. Out of everyone in Dogtown, he's the one best suited to help us."
"So he's your asset, huh? I was wondering how you had leverage over a Voodoo Boy defector. You Intelligence guys sure spread your net wide. So what's next—do we just walk in and ask for him? If it were that easy, you wouldn't be hiding out here with me, would you?"
Karl's tone made Lied nod slightly.
"He's a repeat offender with no moral compass. To get him to cooperate, we may have to… apply pressure."
"So even now, we're not sure he'll help."
Karl understood instantly.
Even if Lied had dirt on him—even if Slidewire worked for the Intelligence Agency—some people just wouldn't listen until they were staring into the coffin.
"So if we can meet him, you can handle the rest, right?"
Karl double-checked.
Lied, catching the slight change in Karl's tone, nodded instinctively.
"Perfect."
That made things simple.
All they had to do was enter the Voodoo Boys defectors' base and find the guy. Classic job.
Karl's face began to shift in front of Lied.
And the face that emerged—
BANG.
The door leading from the front of the spa to the back burst open with a kick. Cameras and guards instantly turned toward the disturbance.
From the open doorway, a man stepped out.
"I need to see Slidewire. Go let him know."
The man's tone was polite—like someone dropping in for a neighborly visit.
It was KK.
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🔥🦾 CYBERPUNK: THE RELENTLESS 🦾🔥
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