Feeling the projectile launcher pressing against his chin, Pilar's eyes turned vacant.
He'd heard the stories—that in the moment before death, time would slow down, and your life would flash before your eyes. But now that he was really facing death...
Time did slow down. But no flashbacks. No life montage.
All he felt was the chill of the metal beneath him… and then, slowly, a wave of heat rising from it.
That heat—seeping from the barrel—crept up from under his jaw, pouring straight into his brain.
Hot.
So hot.
And then… wind.
It felt like the wind had picked him up and tossed him away. When his awareness returned, he was no longer on the container.
Thud.
His body slammed onto the ground in a twisted heap. His elbow smashed into the pavement. As the daze faded, the first thing he felt was pain.
His lower back throbbed—like he'd just taken a brutal kick.
And then came confusion.
He wasn't dead?
That launcher had been jammed right under his chin. It had fired. And he was still alive?
Boom—
Only then did the shell—fired aimlessly into the sky—finally explode.
By the time the blast echoed through the street, Maine had just taken a single step forward.
"Pilar, wa—"
David called out, but only managed to get halfway through his warning.
Because it was already over.
Behind the wild-eyed, cyberpsycho bald man who'd pulled the trigger, Karl was already there.
The barrel of his Typhoon pistol was pressed calmly against the back of the man's head.
His voice was steady.
"Just gotta ask—do you have any sanity left?"
"Urgh!"
The bald man's body twisted, launcher arm swinging.
"I see."
Click.
Bang.
The sharp report of a shot rang out.
A clean bullet hole appeared in the middle of the man's forehead just as he turned. His body trembled, then collapsed backward, landing face-first into the barrel beneath the container.
"Better call Mr. Johnson," Karl muttered. "Guy's probably another runaway cyberpsycho."
He holstered his pistol and turned to Pilar—still crumpled on the ground—offering a small, casual smile.
"Hey. You good, Pilar?"
"Uh… I think?"
Pilar instinctively patted himself down. Nothing missing. No blood. Just a nasty ache in his lower back, like someone had kicked him hard.
"Next time, be more cautious around twitchy freaks."
Karl offered the advice, then jumped down from the container, landing in front of Maine's team.
Maine stared at him, expression complicated.
There was gratitude, sure—Karl had saved Pilar.
But also disbelief.
He knew Karl was strong. Had mentally prepared for him to be ahead.
But this far ahead?
Back when they worked together on that first job, they'd been on roughly the same level. And now? After just two months?
Maine had upgraded his chrome. Trained like hell. Thought he might at least be catching up.
But looking at Karl now…
If they ever clashed for real, he probably wouldn't even survive the first exchange.
Karl had told him once he hadn't been in the game long.
How the hell was he this far already?
Pushing the thoughts aside, Maine looked at Karl and said, "You saved Pilar's life, man. Thanks."
"No big deal."
Karl waved it off like it was nothing. He pulled out his phone and called Johnson, planning to report the kill and confirm whether the guy was on the NCPD's wanted list.
Saved someone at the last second. Took down a cyberpsycho. And called it a "small thing."
Everyone else—except for Rebecca, who was currently kicking her idiot brother and yelling at him—just stood there, struck speechless by how lightly Karl brushed it off.
Maybe they were just too green.
Maybe… this really was a small thing to Karl.
What kind of gigs did his crew usually take?
"I'm clocking out for tonight."
Karl waved his phone. "NCPD's on their way. I gotta coordinate and ID the body. Someone died—we've got to file it properly. I'll skip the next bar. We'll hang out another time."
"Yeah… next time for sure…"
Still a bit dazed, everyone nodded and began walking, almost automatically following Karl's lead.
After a few steps, David finally snapped out of it and turned back, waving. "Next time, bring Jack and Oliver too. Drinks are on me."
"Just one drink, David?" Maine chuckled, his usual tone returning. He slung an arm around David's shoulder and shouted, "Sasha, Pilar—hell, I never thanked you properly for either. Next time, I'm buying, and you're drinking 'til you drop, Karl! Don't you dare skip it!"
"I'm not drinking 'til I drop, but I'll definitely be there," Karl replied with a grin. "I'll let Jack and the others know. I'll even introduce you to the rest of my crew."
He waved goodbye as they left.
Sure, tonight's downtime had been cut short. But Karl didn't mind too much.
Even if this hadn't happened, he would've been leaving soon anyway.
Because just as he'd finished sending Johnson a message—
—he received one from Johnson first.
"Andy's stabilized after treatment. Still a bit withdrawn, but much better. He wants to see you."
Andy.
Karl paused, reading the name that wasn't exactly unfamiliar.
He remembered everything.
A merc who knew Johnson. Someone who stormed Clouds alone to save his sister. Last time Karl had gotten involved on a job from Regina and Johnson, he'd nearly clashed with MaxTac trying to recruit the guy.
And now… Andy was stable. He wanted to meet?
Well.
There's no reason not to.
.
.
.
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