Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 925, Section 135: Street Memories
When the bulletproof glass was opened, not only did Karl see the people outside, but the people getting out of the vehicles also saw KK.

Then, there was no hesitation or doubt whatsoever.

"retreat!"

"Retreat quickly! It's KK! Jefferson met with KK!"

In Night City today, there are only two types of people who will see KK not running away.

One type is someone who is familiar with KK and knows he won't do anything to them; the other type is someone who is capable enough to handle KK.

Clearly, for these individuals, they are neither.

What's the difference between this and seeing a ghost while doing a mission? It's even worse than seeing a ghost.

At least he shouted for a retreat instead of just running away himself; he did his brothers a favor.

These people reacted quickly; if left unarmed on the street, their quick wit might have allowed them to survive a gang fight. But for Carl...
They were still too slow.

After the order to retreat was given, one of the first people who wanted to escape froze without even taking a step.

He was the team's support hacker, responsible for providing real-time network assistance during operations. But now, his access point had been reverse-engineered; the data link that was originally intended to connect the entire team was now precisely sending paralyzing commands to the neural ports of each member.

A series of dull thuds rang out almost simultaneously. Everyone present collapsed to the ground like puppets with broken strings, unable to take a single step.

Almost simultaneously, the team's communication lines with their superiors were instantly cut off.

This was not because they had detected KK's intrusion—but because the higher-ups immediately severed all communication the moment they learned of KK's presence through the squad channel.

Because of this decisiveness and speed, KK's pursuit was stopped.

The reaction is quite fast.

A flicker of surprise crossed Karl's mind. To be able to so clearly understand one's own level and to so decisively abandon the team under one's command—the ruthlessness of the mastermind behind the scenes was something no ordinary person could do.

In Night City, many people hesitate because they can't bear to give up their existing interests, ultimately losing everything. But the other party is so decisive, not even bothering to try.
It seems that this is no ordinary trouble.

However, Karl had already made ample preparations for dealing with big trouble, so he wasn't too surprised at this moment.

If the opponent doesn't even have this level of skill, and he can easily find their hideout by following the clues, he will find it rather boring.

Having dealt with government affairs in Dogtown for so long, it's rare to have such a 'legitimate' opportunity to slack off—an opportunity that allows him to stretch his muscles and do a favor for a mayoral candidate. If it ends so soon, he'll have to go back to working hard—that would be real torture.

You always need to give yourself some relaxing rest time.

Do you remember these people?

Carl took a sip of water and gestured with his chin toward the attackers lying haphazardly outside the window: "Their actions seem quite coordinated; they must have undergone specialized training."

"These people are..."

Jefferson, surprisingly, wasn't overly surprised by Karl's swift subjugation of everyone. Although this was his first time witnessing KK's methods firsthand, the legends surrounding KK were filled with far more outrageous feats; this was merely the embodiment of something far more absurd than mere hearsay. There was nothing particularly astonishing about it compared to other things.
“I recognize some of the faces.”

Jefferson carefully examined the faces of the fallen men, his voice low: "They are all members of the SSI security team."

"It seems we're on the right track."

Carl surveyed the attackers outside the window, who weren't even wearing helmets and seemed to be acting hastily, and commented casually, "In my opinion, this group's level isn't even as good as the Animal Gang's security. To be honest, Mr. Jefferson, you've actually been quite lucky to have gotten away with nothing so far."

With Karl's current insight, even without actually fighting them, he could see through the group's true nature simply by observing the cheapness of their equipment, the compatibility of their prosthetics, and even the subtle habits of how they exert force in each joint during movement.

It's no wonder that Carl had never heard of this SSI security team; their level of expertise is just like that.

The fact that Jefferson has been 'protected' by such a high-caliber team to this day without suffering any mishap, aside from an element of luck, likely has other reasons behind it—there is probably another team secretly ensuring Jefferson's safety.

However, that team most likely doesn't have an official identity and won't leave any traceable clues. After all, with SSI as the scapegoat, they don't need any official identity to show up. When it really comes down to it, they can just use the SSI identity to take the field.

"Although we probably won't get any useful clues, since they're just a bunch of scapegoats, it's better than nothing."

After finishing his water and lunch, Carl stood up and stretched his arms. "It's time to get back to my old job and check my body and personal terminal records."

"Is there anything I can do to help, Mr. KK?"

Seeing Karl stand up, Zechi immediately stood up as well.

“No need,” Carl waved his hand gently. “This kind of thing should be left to the professionals. Judging from Miss Zechi’s appearance, she should be well protected by Mr. Jefferson and has never been exposed to this kind of thing before. In that case, there’s no need to involve someone who is not familiar with her.”

Carl didn't think there was anything wrong with him doing the work while his subordinates were idle: "Professional things should be done by professionals. I'm not the kind of boss who gets upset when his subordinates are idle and forces them to do things, and then blames them for not doing them well."

The only way you can help me in the future is as a legal advisor. Doing your best for me in that area will be the best help you can give me, however…

As Carl spoke, he glanced at Jefferson.

"Mr. Jefferson, I remember you weren't exactly well-off when you were young."

“I really want to refute your prejudiced views based on street origins,” Jefferson shook his head with a wry smile, “but I haven’t done this kind of thing for many years. Even back then, I only collected scraps left over from corpses to sell in order to pay for my studies. Is it really okay for me to do this again now?”

When Zech heard his father's words and stared at him in disbelief, Carl smiled slightly and nodded to Jefferson.
"Of course, I believe that everyone who comes from the streets will never forget this skill, and I hope this can help you find some of your lost memories."

Just as he doesn't feel that he necessarily needs his subordinates to do the work, Carl also doesn't feel there's anything wrong with having a mayoral candidate do the work.

After all, Carl is quite lazy; he'll definitely pull in anyone who can help.

But before that
"Use this disguise chip to cover your face at least a bit, otherwise it might be a little embarrassing."

He did consider people's feelings after all.

(End of this chapter)