9. Heading to the Wild Wolf Bar
“All right, as expected, I got kicked out.”
On the second day after crossing over, Karl woke up in a hotel in Watson District and received a message from Oliver, who had rushed back to Santo Domingo last night.
“What’s the situation?”
Karl washed his face and looked at his youthful reflection in the mirror as he replied.
“What else? Looks like I can’t go back to Santo Domingo anymore. I guess I’ve been kicked out. I’m heading to Watson District now. Meet me at the restaurant in front of the hotel in a bit. You order first—I want a steak, ten euros.”
“You sure know how to eat.”
Without a toothbrush or toothpaste, Karl rubbed his teeth with his fingers and water, then rinsed his mouth. He resolved to rent a proper apartment from now on because this hotel was simply unbearable.
Stepping out of the room, since the bill had been paid last night, Karl walked straight across the street to the restaurant opposite the hotel. Crossing the road, he barely avoided being hit by a swerving car, but his nerves were steady enough that he didn’t draw his gun to give the driver a few rounds to sober up.
After all, this wasn’t Gotham; there was no need to be so conservative.
After ordering Oliver’s steak and a portion of cold Chinese noodles for himself, Karl, who felt adapting to insect meat might take longer than adjusting to being a mercenary, bought himself a drink while waiting for the food.
Yesterday, the small cola he drank had left his teeth feeling rough, so today he switched to a different cola called Cyrus Classic Cola. Judging from the packaging, it screamed Americana: red and white stripes with blue stars on the background—too overtly patriotic.
One sip, and Karl’s eyes lit up. He had to admit that Cyrus Cola tasted better than the small cola. Indeed, in America, you had to drink American cola.
“Oh, you’re drinking Cyrus Cola? I like that one too.”
While Karl was savoring the cola, Oliver arrived and naturally sat beside him. He bought a bottle of Cyrus Cola from the vending machine by the table and started drinking, saying, “There’s a weird saying in our Sixth Street gang—that Cyrus Cola is the truly patriotic cola. Drinking any other cola is a conflict. Even if you don’t drink Cyrus Cola, when you pass by, you have to salute it with another drink.”
“Some kind of American superior drink, huh.”
Karl scoffed, feeling that Cyrus Cola’s patriotic marketing was indeed successful. But he remembered that Night City was supposed to be an independent city, not under any management, yet they still showed such patriotism... Oh, the Sixth Street gang was founded by American veterans, so that made sense.
***
“So, any contacts through middlemen today?”
“No.”
Oliver shrugged naturally but still offered an idea. “But my old man said, if we’re going to do this, we should do it properly—no half measures. He suggested I check out the Wild Wolf Bar in Heywood. They often recruit people for work there. Maybe we can snag some jobs.”
[Heywood]: A district marked by stark wealth disparity. The northern area is dotted with park towers, while the south is a dangerous slum. Yet its unique and distinct charm keeps drawing you back.
NCPD Danger Level Assessment: Partially dangerous.
Alongside this information, the current intelligence on gangs in Heywood flashed through Karl’s mind.
[Valentino Gang]: They control areas mainly inhabited by Latinx people, upholding values of honor, justice, and brotherhood, willing to pay any price to defend them. The Valentino gang’s loyalty is priceless and lasts until the grave. Best think twice before getting involved with them.
The food arrived.
“I remember the Valentino gang isn’t on good terms with the Sixth Street gang. Is it okay for you to go into Valentino territory with me?”
“What could go wrong? *Chew chew.* Besides, I’m no longer with Sixth Street anyway. And off the record, quite a few of our guys get along well with Valentino’s crew. As long as appearances hold, it’s fine. *Chew chew,* this steak is really delicious—juicy, and the meat is excellent.”
Watching Oliver chew with juices spilling from the steak, Karl instinctively leaned back. He had to admit, seeing Oliver eat steak like that gave him a vivid mental image of biting into a juicy bug. Overall, the hallucination was quite stimulating.
“Since it’s settled, let’s finish eating and head over. How do we get there? The subway?”
Oliver recalled that the intel once mentioned Night City had a subway.
“No need for that hassle. I drove here this time, and all my belongings are in the car.”
Oliver pointed with his fork to a black car parked outside the restaurant window.
“Quartz EC-L R275. My sister gave it to me for my twentieth birthday. Affordable, sturdy, and durable. You just ride with me; I still know some of the roads in Heywood.”
***
After speaking, the loquacious Oliver added, “It’s a two-seater. I only ever let my ex-girlfriend ride with me before—you’re my first same-sex passenger.”
“Well, I’ll have to thank you then.”
Not knowing much about cars these days and without much complaint, Karl soon finished his cold noodles. He felt a bit tired of it. Although it was tasty due to the wheat, he had eaten it three meals in a row now, including last night, and wasn’t eager for more.
“Oh, speaking of thanks, you might really want to thank me.”
Hearing Karl’s words, Oliver suddenly remembered something. “I put two Nokota D5 Copperhead kinetic assault rifles in the trunk. That way, if we get into intense firefights, we’ll have enough firepower to get the job done.”
[Nokota D5 Copperhead]: If the most popular assault rifle of the twentieth century was the AK-47, then today’s world runs on the Copperhead. Made by Nokota Manufacturing, this reliable, powerful, and affordable weapon is your most trustworthy companion.
Assault rifles, huh.
“The recoil might be so strong I won’t even be able to hold the gun down.”
“In that case, just hoist it over your head and shoot freestyle.”
Oliver swallowed the last bite of his steak.
“So, what do you say, KK? Ready to go?”
“Of course. Let’s go, Oliver.”