Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 922, Section 132: Obtaining to Hear
The mayoral candidate's memory was passive, yet no problems or traces could be found.

This kind of thing would make anyone's scalp tingle and would make them want to avoid it at all costs.

Whether it's some unknown technology, a rare disease, or a more sophisticated conspiracy, this has long since gone beyond the realm of ordinary troubles.

Smart people should stop here.

The best option is not to get involved, and the next best option is to stop asking here.

That's already more than enough; there's no need to ask any more questions.

This is a choice that a normal person in Night City might make.

But this was not Carl's choice.

Perhaps it was Jefferson Perales's words about 'fatherly responsibility' that moved him, or perhaps Carl was just the kind of guy who liked to join in the fun.

In short.

He was curious.

Carl became interested.

"When did you start to feel that your memories had been altered? Where were your memories altered? What parts don't match what Zeqi said? Can you tell me?"

Faced with Jefferson Perales, who only wanted to protect his daughter and whom he was afraid of but still intended to confront, Carl asked an unnecessary question.

The question, brimming with curiosity and sounding like a casual inquiry, left Jefferson and Zechs speechless.

Although Karl spoke these words in a very calm tone, the meaning behind them was still revealed through his words.

He intends to investigate.

Explore what this intelligent person shouldn't have touched.

Jefferson's lips parted slightly as he stared at Carl, his face filled with disbelief.

Every word he said just now came from the bottom of his heart; he genuinely hoped that Karl could protect his daughter—but that was all.

In this city, he never expected anyone to be foolish enough to willingly get involved in such obvious trouble. He had laid out the outline of the risks clearly: this was not an investigation he was forced into, but an option that Carl could walk away from at any time if he wanted.

He only told the truth so that Carl could protect his daughter, but Carl asked him about related matters instead.

Doesn't Karl realize that if he finds out the truth about his situation, and if there really is a mastermind behind it all, that person will absolutely not let Karl off the hook?!
this.
Is this KK?
Jefferson Peralez felt as if he was realizing for the first time what the name KK meant.

I had heard the name KK countless times before, and I knew countless rumors about KK, but all of that was insignificant compared to the feeling of actually meeting KK in person.

Seeing is believing.

KK is indeed an amazing person.

However.
Jefferson slowly shook his head.

"I am very grateful to you, Mr. KK."

He added honorifics to his address, which was a sign of his sincere respect for Karl.

"But please allow me to decline your offer."

When he looked up again, the confusion and fear on his face had vanished, replaced by a relieved peace and a genuine smile.

“I know you’re a good person—though you may not like that assessment, it’s my truest feeling right now. That’s why I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess, nor should I have let Zeqi take this risk. Your words just now are enough. I believe you can protect my daughter.”

Jefferson gazed intently at Carl, his tone carrying a knowing, wistful quality:

“You are truly different from this Night City. Now, I finally believe that the changes happening in this city are indeed because of your existence. With you here, my dream of governing—to ensure that children from poor families can receive an education and live a better life—may be realized. Therefore, I should no longer involve you.” Jefferson-Perales felt a sense of relief and peace he had never experienced since discovering the abnormality in his memories. He nodded solemnly to Carl, then stood up and looked deeply into his daughter’s eyes.

“I’m entrusting Zeki to you, Mr. KK.” His voice was steady, yet it carried a sense of entrustment. He then turned to his daughter, his tone gentle but firm: “Zeki, serve Mr. KK well. He is a respectable man.”

Facing her father's words, which were practically his last, Zeqi clenched her fists tightly under the table. She looked at her father's relaxed smile, and in those eyes that were so similar to her own, there was a sense of relief and resolve that she had never seen before.

She understood everything.

He understood that his father was making his final arrangements, that he planned to face an enemy whose face he couldn't even see clearly. He didn't even dare to hug her, fearing that this last bit of tenderness would shake his resolve to die.

“I understand, Father.” Her voice was soft, yet unusually calm, with only her slightly trembling fingers betraying the turmoil within her.

"I will stay by Mr. KK's side, I will live well, and serve Mr. KK."

This was the path to survival her father had secured for her; she had no right to refuse it so capriciously.

If something happens to her father and mother, then she will be the last remaining member of the family, and it will be her turn to take charge.

She had to be prepared to face the loss of her parents and, under KK's protection, to avenge them.

Zechi's voice was calm, and she showed no emotion on her face because she couldn't let her father leave with worries.

Jefferson's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty. His daughter's overly mature and restrained response, barely an adult, cut into his heart like a dull knife.

Even with his memories fragmented, the deep-rooted father-daughter bond made him instantly understand that Zechi had made a decision and was prepared to bear all of this alone after he and his wife left.

And he couldn't even offer a word of comfort.

Because he wasn't sure if he would remember this moment tomorrow, or if he would remember his daughter holding back her tears, this feeling of powerlessness—being unable to even protect his memories—made him unable to do anything.

All he could do was, in this still lucid moment, trace his daughter's outline one last time with his eyes, etching the image into the depths of his soul—even if the memory were to be altered, he hoped that the pain and love he felt at this moment would at least leave some trace.

"Take care of yourself."

"You too."

They said a simple goodbye, neither of them wanting to say anything more.

Anything more would only add to the grief and sorrow.

Just as Jefferson resolutely turned to leave, Carl's deep and clear voice rang out in the room:

"sit down."

The two simple words carried an undeniable power, leaving the father and daughter stunned.

They stared blankly at Karl.

Carl glanced at the stunned father and daughter, then casually pointed towards the kitchen.

"The food is almost served." His tone was casual and relaxed. "If you have something to say, sit down and we can eat and talk."

He tapped the table with his finger.

"These are my words, and yours are not."

His voice remained calm, yet it brooked no argument.

"We have to listen."

(End of this chapter)