CYBERPUNK: Travel to 2075

"Jack, come and have a drink with us."

Jack Wells had just walked into the Wild Wolf Bar when a Valentino gang member, who had been sitting there drinking, stood up and extended a hand to invite Jack over.

Before Jack could respond, Mrs. Wells, holding a plate, interjected: "Jack, you came just in time. Come help me deliver these to the two guests over there."

"I know, Mom."

Jack Wells, just back home, found himself conscripted into helping out at the bar. He shot an apologetic glance at his friend and took the plate from his mother. Steadily balancing it, he walked over to the two guests, Karl and Oliver, setting the plate down before joining them.

"What do you call me, brother?"

Jack Wells, in person, stood in front of them. For Karl, who had already met Victor, the sight of Jack was unremarkable.

"Karl," he said, taking a sip of the sweet tea in front of him. "You can call me KK."

"This sweet tea tastes like iced black tea," he added.

"Oliver," the other guest said, raising his bottle of iced beer toward Jack in greeting. "You can call me Oliver. I just heard you earlier, let's drink together. I don't mind making new friends."

"That's perfect."

Jack had come into the bar partly out of concern for his mother's establishment, seeing unfamiliar mercenaries, but now he realized these two weren't as dangerous as he had assumed. Without hesitation, he accepted Oliver's invitation.

Jack headed to the bar, procured a bottle of beer from his mother (despite her nagging), and cut a plate of Spanish ham slices. On his way back, he apologized to the Valentino who had invited him earlier: "Sorry, brother, I'm busy today, but I'll catch up next time."

"Next time, for sure!"

"Of course!"

Jack returned to the table, placed the ham slices down, and took a hearty gulp of beer.

"Let's eat some ham together. Judging by your looks, are you two mercenaries?"

"The team was just formed yesterday," Karl replied, eating a crisp French fry. "We haven't taken any jobs yet. We heard we might find something here at the Wild Wolf Bar, so we showed up early."

"The team was just formed yesterday?" Jack's eyebrows raised. "By the look of you two, I'd guess someone's guiding you from behind."

"Yeah, a prosthetic doctor named Victor. Great guy," Oliver replied casually, clearly trusting Jack's friendly demeanor.

Karl, however, noticed Jack's subtle probing. The seemingly straightforward man had skillfully coaxed information from Oliver. Still, it was nothing to hide, so Karl focused on finishing his fries.

The fries were perfectly fried—crispy and flavorful. The only downside was the lack of condiments like salt, ketchup, or even mayonnaise.

"Victor?"

Jack perked up at the mention of a familiar name. "You mean Victor from Watson?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Of course, brother! We go way back."

Jack's smile widened. Any friends of Victor were friends of his. With his suspicions eased, Jack felt a newfound camaraderie with the pair.

They chatted about Victor and other lighthearted topics before Jack mentioned his own situation: "I'm a mercenary too, just starting out. I've done a few small jobs so far. I do know a fixer, but I want to prove myself first before going to him. I'd rather earn tasks based on my strength than rely on connections."

"Jack, you've got ambition. Not like me—I've always leaned on my dad and sister. If not for Karl, I wouldn't have figured out how to strike out on my own," Oliver admitted.

Meanwhile, Jack noticed Karl's nearly empty plate and asked with a proud smile: "Karl, how do you like the fries? My mom fries them herself. I've been eating these since I was a kid and never get tired of them."

"They're great," Karl admitted, "but they'd be even better with a little ketchup."

Jack laughed. "I think so too, but my mom's a purist—she loves the original flavor."

Jack seemed ready to rope Karl into convincing Mrs. Wells about condiments, but their attention shifted when a new guest entered the bar.

"The one in a suit and tie—that's a corpo dog," Oliver muttered under his breath.

Just as he said, the newcomer was a well-dressed corporate employee. Despite her polished appearance, her arrogant demeanor marred any charm she might have had.

"Keep your voice down, or we'll get bitten," Jack added in a low tone, smirking at Oliver's comment.

"She's looking this way," Karl remarked coolly, causing Jack and Oliver to straighten up. They watched as the corporate employee strode toward their table, her sharp heels clicking loudly against the floor.

'Could she have overheard us?' Oliver wondered nervously, his gaze flicking toward her.