Seeing the face full of prosthetic eyes explode in front of him, Karl shook his head, swayed, and leaned heavily to one side.
"Hey, are you okay, KK?" Oliver asked, rushing over faster than Jack to catch Karl before he fell.
Looking at Karl's bloodied, swollen face, Oliver grimaced. "Wow, your face looks like a blooming flower. A bloody one."
"Almost died," Karl muttered, his voice strained. His face throbbed with pain, and his hands felt like they'd been dislocated. The Crusher's recoil was no joke—just one shot had left his hands numb.
"Come on, let's get you up," Jack said, arriving to help. He took one look at Karl's crooked nose and broken cheek and sighed. "Hold still. This is gonna hurt."
Before Karl could protest, Jack grabbed his nose and snapped it back into place with a sharp crack.
"ARGH!" Karl shouted, reeling from the pain. "Damn it, Jack! Couldn't you have given me a second to prepare?"
"No time for that," Jack replied with an annoyingly calm grin. "Better to get it over with quickly. How's it feel now?"
Karl groaned but nodded reluctantly. "Better. It's just pain now—no throbbing."
His eyes flicked to the fallen Maelstrom ganger, her body a bloody mess on the ground. "Judging by her armor, she might've been one of the bosses around here. Regular grunts don't get subdermal plating strong enough to tank Copperhead rounds. At least we can take a breather now."
"No wonder she had a 100,000 euro bounty," Jack muttered. "I thought we were taking out some low-level corpo dog, but she turned out to be a nightmare. That subdermal armor's gotta be worth at least 30,000 euros."
"Doesn't matter," Oliver said. "We're almost done here. All that's left is to find the box and destroy it. Then we'll get the remaining 70,000 euros. After that, we can finally afford subdermal protectors for ourselves."
Karl patted Jack on the shoulder. "Yeah, but first, we're going straight to Old Wei's for treatment. My face needs fixing."
"Fine by me," Jack agreed, picking up scattered guns and equipment along the way. "Might as well make some extra cash selling these."
Oliver retrieved the Crusher from the ground and inspected it. "We should also check the bodies of the other Maelstrom gangers. If their private accounts aren't too damaged, we could siphon some cash from them."
"That's a big if," Karl said, shrugging. "I shot most of them in the head."
He smirked slightly, despite the pain. "By the way, Oliver, why was that woman so dead-set on killing you? Romantic debt, maybe?"
"Beats me," Oliver muttered, shrugging. "She's dead now, so it doesn't matter. If she were alive, maybe we could've found a hacker to dig through her memories."
As they bantered, the trio worked quickly. Jack, limping from an earlier injury, scavenged weapons, while Karl and Oliver searched for a computer to locate the box.
Eventually, Karl found a computer on the factory's first floor. Though it didn't contain any direct mission details, it revealed something interesting: records of the Maelstrom gang's recent activities.
"They hit Kabuki yesterday," Karl muttered, recalling a news report he'd overheard. The Maelstrom gang had also robbed Oliver's Sixth Street contacts of weapon shipments and intercepted the corporate box they were now after. The records painted a clear picture.
"They're gearing up for something big," Karl thought. "But that's none of my business."
He disconnected from the terminal and shot it with his Lexington, watching as the bullets shredded the screen.
"Still not enough stopping power," he muttered. "I really need a better gun."
When Karl rejoined Oliver and Jack, the box was already waiting for him. It matched the description perfectly: a sleek black container adorned with a distinctive red flower pattern.
Karl dialed their employer, who answered almost instantly.
"How's the mission?" the voice asked.
"We've got the box. Do you need verification?" Karl replied.
"Describe it."
Karl gave a detailed description of the box's design and markings.
"That's the one," the employer confirmed. "Destroy it."
Karl nodded to Oliver, who connected the room's surveillance to his access point and began recording. Jack secured several grenades to the box, set it in a corner, and pulled the pins.
The trio retreated as the grenades exploded, reducing the box to ashes. For a brief moment before the detonation, Karl thought he saw data chips inside the container, but the blast obliterated everything.
Oliver disconnected the surveillance feed and sent the video to Karl, who forwarded it to their employer.
Seconds later, a message popped up on Karl's phone.
"You've done well. Your discretion is appreciated. Payment sent."
Karl's account dinged, showing a deposit of 70,000 euros.
"Well?" Oliver asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It's in the account," Karl confirmed. He transferred 23,300 euros each to Oliver and Jack, keeping the remaining 100 euros for himself.
"There's still 100 euros left. Let's treat ourselves to dinner," Karl suggested.
"I know a good place," Jack said. "But 100 euros might not cut it. I can chip in more."
"Don't bother. This one's on me," Karl said with a grin.
With that, the mission was complete. Their reward: 100,000 euros and a much-needed break from the chaos of Night City.