CYBERPUNK: Travel to 2075

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..Attack..

"Where are you now?"

Having left the Arasaka Beach Area, Jack was tense, fully expecting an attack at any moment. Waiting for the unknown ahead was proving to be the most nerve-wracking challenge.

"We've entered the northern industrial area of Watson. Right now, we're in a cluster of abandoned apartments. The convoy's moving slow. The lead vehicle reported debris blocking the street, so they're clearing the road."

Oliver, sitting in the driver's seat, gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to calm his nerves. "Do you think we'll be attacked here?"

"I don't know," Jack replied, scanning their surroundings. "But this doesn't feel like an accident. Mann, crack your door open a bit. We're moving so slow we might as well be walking. If it goes bad, we need to jump and scatter."

"Are you saying trouble's just around the corner, K?" Mann asked with a stiff grin, sunglasses reflecting the dull industrial lights. "Hell, let's get it over with already."

"Not necessarily," Karl said thoughtfully, watching the surroundings. "Launching an attack right after we've left would be a little hasty..."

Before he could finish, a red flash streaked from the fifth floor of a nearby apartment building.

"RPG!"

The warning came instinctively as Karl's enhanced reflexes kicked in. He tracked the rocket's trajectory, judging that it would hit ten meters ahead of their vehicle. Acting immediately, Karl threw open his door, dove out, and rolled to a safe position behind the car.

He executed the evasion techniques drilled into him during Mewtwo training: lying flat on his back with arms crossed over his chest, eyes squeezed shut, mouth and abdomen clenched, and toes pointed down.

In 2075, RPGs had a lethal radius of fifteen meters. The vehicle's luxury status made it no match for a direct hit, especially since its design emphasized opulence over durability.

BOOM!

The explosion came a split second later, the deafening blast accompanied by the screech of twisting metal. The vehicle absorbed most of the impact, but the front was mangled beyond recognition.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack growled, shaking off the dust. Thanks to Karl's warning, he had barely managed to get clear in time. His subdermal armor protected him from the worst, leaving him shaken but uninjured.

Mann had jumped out early thanks to Karl's advice and was now crouched by the vehicle, weapon in hand, scanning for hostiles through his prosthetic eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Oliver cursed. He hadn't been as lucky. Sitting in the driver's seat, he'd been closer to the blast and now clutched his bleeding right arm, where a piece of shrapnel had lodged itself.

Muttering expletives under his breath, Oliver pulled out the still-warm shard with his left hand and pressed gauze to the wound, staunching the bleeding with quick, practiced movements.

"I'm gonna kill whoever fired that damn rocket!" he snarled. "They wrecked my new gun! I spent all my savings on it, and now it's toast!"

Karl glanced back at the vehicle. A quarter of their convoy was obliterated, the mercenaries in those cars reduced to casualties. Meanwhile, Arasaka's security personnel, positioned at the rear, had escaped unscathed. The mercenaries had been nothing but meat shields.

In the chaos, Karl locked onto the building where the rockets had come from.

"Jack, Mann—get Oliver to cover and coordinate with the others. I'll handle the RPG upstairs."

"What?!" Jack protested, but Karl was already moving.

Rushing toward the apartment building, Karl disappeared into its shadowy entrance. Mann watched his retreating figure and muttered, "Now I get it. He's not just part of the team—he's a lone wolf."

Karl wasn't just a fighter. He was a commander who fought alone.

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