Chapter 690

On his very first night at Arasaka, Karl—wearing the mask of Akechi—already had to get to work.

Outside the window, the sky should have been black. Instead, the flood of advertisements and building lights turned the night into something almost brighter than day. Karl turned his head back toward the workstation computer on his desk.

If he had to sum up his first impression of working at Arasaka, it was this: the office chairs were awful. Rigid, stiff, the kind that gave you the feeling a slipped disk was just waiting to happen. Sit here long enough and you’d end up with a herniated spine—though, he mused, in Night City that just meant a quick trip to a ripperdoc. No need for a full cyberware replacement—just a few adjustments and you’d be patched up. Not that Karl’s body was weak enough to suffer the kind of desk-job ailments the unaugmented employees would.