"Old man, in today's Night City, revenge doesn't mean hurting the innocent."
Aison Brane's expression subtly changed when he heard Karl's words.
It was as if he'd heard something completely incomprehensible. He didn't even acknowledge NCPD officer Andy approaching—he just stared directly at Karl.
He locked eyes with him.
That grin from earlier had long since vanished. In its place was a look filled with disbelief, like he was witnessing something absurd.
"I never expected… that a mercenary nowadays would think like this."
Aison shook his head, his gaze fixed on the young man whose reputation in Night City rivaled—no, far surpassed—his own from back in the day. "Not harming the innocent? Do you think walking this path means you've never taken an innocent life? You're a merc. Your job is to kill. And you still cling to that ideal? Who do you think you are—Morgan Blackhand? That's laughable."
But even as he said it, there wasn't a trace of amusement on Aison's face.
This young man gave him a strange feeling.
A sense of sincerity—of clarity—he had never encountered in all his years in Night City.
If it were Karl saying he had never harmed an innocent, and he said it so openly, Aison found himself believing he might actually mean it. Despite having long abandoned the idea of trust, something about this guy… made him want to believe.
Unbelievable. Laughable. And yet…
But Karl didn't say what Aison expected.
He didn't claim to be spotless.
"Maybe I've harmed innocents," Karl said quietly. "I can't be sure the gang members or corpo goons I've taken down didn't have families or clean personal lives. Maybe some of them did."
"But what I do know," he added, "is that every single one of them wasn't innocent to me."
Aison fell silent for a moment before instinctively pushing back. "You think that makes you a hero? A judge of right and wrong?"
"I'm not."
A simple, honest answer.
"I just choose to act that way."
That was it.
A choice.
No moral high ground, no obligation, no posturing.
Karl simply did what he believed in. If someone was caught in the crossfire, he'd try to save them. If someone showed no threat, he might spare them. If he was kind—it was because he chose to be.
It had nothing to do with what others thought.
"Because you want to…" Aison echoed the words, eyeing the younger man carefully.
All he saw was sincerity. No pretense.
At that moment, Aison realized something:
This man—whether compared to Night City, or to himself—didn't belong here.
Night City was a pit. Everyone knew that. But everyone still stepped in and got dirty.
Most had only two choices—try to wash the filth away, and sink deeper instead… or run far enough to escape, but still carry the stain.
But Karl was different.
He stepped into the pit but stayed himself. Whether to leave, stay, clean up, or get dirty—those were his decisions. And that level of freedom… was something Aison had never had.
A man shackled by gang pride for half his life, then by vengeance for the other half. How free Karl seemed in comparison… how enviable.
"This is the merc who sets the rules in Night City now… KK."
Aison muttered to himself. Then, he turned his golden blade.
"That NCPD officer… he's yours."
With that, he didn't even glance at his four subordinates. He spun his long-unused golden blade and strode toward Karl.
The days of chaos thirty years ago were long gone. The streets now had someone setting rules. Maybe not everywhere—but here and now, someone enforced order.
Aison chose to challenge those rules.
With his blade.
A challenge from the past.
Karl accepted.
"So you don't want to go quietly, huh."
Karl stayed still as Aison approached, blade spinning. His palm flicked open a holo-screen on his phone:
NCPD Assistance Request
Lethal force authorized.
Authorized by: Officer Andy, NCPD.
"Then I'll make you surrender."
The legend of the Valentinos—feared by half the city, hated by the other?
Maybe back then. But to Karl…
"You're old. You're not my match."
Blunt. Honest. Brutal.
"Yeah… I'm old," Aison growled—then rushed forward. "But I'm not dead yet!"
"No. You misunderstood me."
Karl's tone didn't waver, even as Aison charged—clearly enhanced with reflex mods.
"I mean… you don't even qualify as my opponent."
Not just that he was no match—he wasn't even worthy of being called one.
Karl didn't move. Didn't lift a foot.
When Aison reached him, blade raised—his body froze.
He couldn't move. Couldn't swing.
He couldn't even make it to a single exchange.
"I said I'd make you surrender."
Karl calmly reached forward and adjusted the old man's collar. "I vouch for you."
Karl didn't like this man.
Not after he put two innocent lives at risk. If Karl hadn't gotten out in time, that mother and child would be dead.
But even so—he didn't hate him completely.
A man who spent thirty years chasing vengeance for his sister…
That earned at least a sliver of respect.
"Your holding time is up. If you want revenge again—next time, report it first and clear the area. Say KK's fighting someone and it's a high-risk zone. You can use my name. I'll allow it. But…"
Karl looked toward Orianna, her file still pulled up.
"If you can… spare the eight-year-old girl."
Spare the child?
Too soft, maybe.
Karl didn't talk about innocence. In the face of revenge, maybe innocence didn't matter. Maybe it never did.
He knew what history said—let a grudge linger, and it festers. And still…
He looked at Aison again.
What did he mean? That the girl might be the only blood left? That she was too young?
Did Karl have the right to decide what vengeance looked like?
No.
He only said:
"I ask you."
He had no legal ground. No right to interfere.
It was a personal plea.
Aison's decision—Karl wouldn't know it.
But Karl just didn't like seeing people die.
Aison said nothing.
Even after Karl released him, even after Andy and the NCPD cuffed him and the others and escorted them to the car, he stayed silent.
Only when the car door was about to shut…
He turned to Karl.
"I vouch for you."
What did he mean?
Did he promise not to hurt innocents? To spare the child?
Karl didn't know.
But Aison Brane—who had long since abandoned trust—
had just said: "I vouch for you."
-
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