cyberpunk: Travel to 2075

There Is No Need to Think That Way

"I've brought him here."

"Sorry to trouble you, Jack, and to have you go to Santo Domingo alone."

"It's okay, Oliver. You told me about your past. If the Sixth Street Gang doesn't want you back, they won't let you return. They'll be begging us to visit someday."

Jack brought David Martinez, who was walking beside him like a nervous little chick, to Oliver and Karl.

David nervously scanned his surroundings and realized they were in a luxurious restaurant—one he had never dared to enter, only look at from the outside. Every dish here cost at least 100 euros.

"Just sit down. It's our first time here too. Don't be so nervous. We're taking this opportunity to treat you to a nice meal. Don't worry, just order whatever you want. I'll pay," Karl said with a smile, inviting David to sit. They chose a table near the floor-to-ceiling window. Jack sat next to David, effectively blocking his escape routes.

"Don't look so grim. Have a drink," Oliver said, smiling like the Big Bad Wolf coaxing Little Red Riding Hood. He handed David a drink from the luxurious restaurant. "It's apple juice, real apple. Try it."

Persuaded, David glanced at Jack to his left and out the window to his right. He swallowed hard, took the apple juice, and drank half of it in one gulp, resigned to his fate.

"Drink it," Karl said, watching David. David, who had only taken a sip, downed the rest of the juice. The sweet, slightly sour real fruit taste lingered in his mouth and on his tongue.

'It's the real thing!' David thought, his eyes lighting up. Perhaps in acceptance of his fate, he gulped down the rest of the juice, choking slightly as some went down the wrong way.

"You're in too much of a hurry," Jack said, patting David's back to help him breathe. Once David calmed down, he looked at the smiling men in front of him, then at Jack beside him.

After tasting real apple juice, he felt he could face whatever was coming.

"Tell me, what exactly do you want from me?" David asked, bracing himself for the worst.

Oliver seemed surprised by David's readiness and turned to Jack. "Jack, didn't you explain everything to him?"

"I did, but he didn't believe me."

"How could he? You suddenly followed me, brought me to a luxury restaurant, and told me you wanted to sell braindance wreaths with me. No one would believe that!" David said, his voice rising in frustration. It was less painful to face beheading than to endure this uncertainty. He was prepared for anything—whether it involved a terrorist act at Arasaka Academy or being made a scapegoat, as long as his mother wasn't dragged into it.

"Keep your voice down," Karl said, noticing the other customers' stares. He pressed a sound-blocking button on the table, and a transparent glass cover rose around them, isolating their seats.

"Fine restaurants have their perks," Karl muttered, ensuring there were no recording devices in the enclosed space. He then pulled down the curtains on the window and gestured for Oliver to cover his right side. Karl's facial prosthesis began changing his appearance.

With a slight nerve pain, Karl transformed into a face David recognized.

"You!" David exclaimed, his mouth agape. He had only met this person once but was familiar with this face. Today at school, he heard that a professional braindance wreath seller had come to the academy, stealing business. The face in the posted information matched the one before him now.

"Do you believe it now?" Karl asked, quickly reverting to his original appearance, frowning at the nerve pain. He couldn't wait to remove the prosthesis once this mission was over. If it connected to his nerve endings permanently, it would be disastrous.

"It feels unreal, like a dream," David said blankly, never having seen such a prosthetic.

"Now you'll see it," Karl said, thinking of a way to keep the conversation light and cooperative.

"To show our cooperation, you can use this money as startup funds to buy braindance wreaths. Don't worry; as long as you don't embezzle it, the money will ultimately be yours."

A data stream passed through Karl's mind, and through his sight, he locked onto his target.

'Thanks to my cheat, I can do this. Otherwise, I'd need special glasses or prosthetic eyes to lock onto the personal terminal,' Karl thought.

"Startup capital. Don't think about embezzling this money; it's all yours," Karl said as he initiated the transaction.

'Ding.'

David, still dazed, suddenly saw his poor account balance of 17.5 euros receive a sum he had never imagined.

"One...10,000 euros?!" David was utterly shocked.

For the first time in his 17 years, David experienced being overwhelmed by money. The sensation was so beautiful and surreal that he remained in a trance for half an hour, fearing he'd wake from this dream.

Can you help us with something?

Yes, absolutely.

Can you help us sell braindance wreaths?

I'd be happy to help.

Can I have a good meal?

Sure...

When answering Oliver, David finally realized he was cutting air with his knife and fork, having unconsciously pushed his food to the plate's edge.

Regaining his composure, David resumed eating, now only thinking about one thing—his mother wouldn't have to worry about rent or the washing machine anymore. She wouldn't have to work so hard.

For the money that could ease his mother's life, David was willing to step into danger.

Seeing David's expression, Karl sighed. "It's just selling movies. You don't need to think about it as a suicide mission."

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