The gunshot rang out abruptly—exactly the effect Arthur wanted. The thugs hadn't even drawn their weapons before he and Jackie cut them down.
There was no shootout, and Jessica and her father's home remained untouched. As for the bloodstains on the floor? Just a quick cleanup.
"All right, problem solved. Consider this after-sales service."
He spread his hands.
Seeing the father and daughter staring at him in shock, Arthur explained,
"The NCPD won't give you trouble.
Just say these guys broke into your home to extort you.
You're a company man, so your word will hold weight."
"No, that's not it. I mean—they're not Tyger Claws. They're freelance mercs."
Arthur glanced at the terrified men on the ground, puzzled by their claim. Maybe they just wanted to ride on the Tyger Claws' reputation in Westbrook, hiding behind a false badge.
"Then you've got nothing to worry about. No retaliation.
But seriously, where'd you find this trash? Wakako's people wouldn't act this sloppy."
Arthur asked casually, still focused on his revolver. He slid bullets into the chamber one by one, gave the cylinder a flick with his thumb, then snapped it shut with a crisp click before holstering the gun at his waist.
That small gesture alone helped ease the man's strain. It was clear he'd been running on empty for three days straight—physically and mentally exhausted.
"Some middleman drifting around, calls himself Faraday.
Never met him, but he contacted me, said he had solid intel that could help."
Jackie chimed in from behind.
"I've heard of him. From Heywood.
His rep's garbage—intel always skewed, sometimes even screwing over his own.
Most veterans don't deal with him.
So he preys on rookies."
Arthur let it drop. Night City had more Fixers than anyone could count, and every kind of scum among them.
"That wraps up our Gig.
Oh, and your daughter's got real courage."
...
After leaving Charter Hill, Arthur looked out from the car at the neatly kept surroundings.
"Nice place. But if I had to choose, I'd still take a megabuilding in Little China."
He'd always believed—being a kid raised on the frontier—that he hated the city and its noise. Yet less than a month in Night City, and he felt strangely at home. Maybe it was because of the friends he'd made. Even after betrayal, he still dared to trust.
When they reached Little China, Jackie said he was going home to see his mom. But when Arthur saw him grinning ear to ear while revving up his brand-new Nazaré, he figured the guy just wanted to ride.
Arthur, meanwhile, still had his own bike parked somewhere in Kabuki. He'd need to pick it up later.
...
Entering the clinic alone, Arthur spotted his newly acquired Nekomata. It rested neatly on an empty table, its wiring aligned perfectly with the smart module. Vik had even oiled it, the jet-black barrel gleaming with a heavy metallic sheen.
Viktor noticed Arthur the moment he stepped in. Seeing his eyes fixed on the weapon, he chuckled.
"As you can see, it's good as new. And you hit the jackpot—this was likely custom-made for someone important. Compared to a standard Nekomata, its barrel material is far tougher and denser.
Never seen this alloy before. Looks like Tsunami's own atomic-density tech."
Arthur didn't follow the technical jargon, but he caught the meaning: the gun was a monster.
Excited, he stepped forward, one hand on the grip, the other bracing the barrel, and finally hefted the nearly two-meter-long beast into his arms.
The weight was unnatural—built to be set in place ahead of time, not carried around. Watching Arthur strain, Vik gave a resigned smile.
"It performs brilliantly, but the density's insane. It "weighs almost as much as gold of the same volume."
Arthur steadied the rifle, letting out a tight breath.
"No problem. I already knew."
He'd noticed the weight back at the black-market gun shop. But with a sniper rifle, speed wasn't the priority.
"So, what do you say we give it a name?" Vik suggested.
Arthur thought for a moment, feeling the weight in his arms.
"How about 'The Giant'?"
"Good name. Heavy and full of power."
Arthur set The Giant back on the table and began sharing the intel he'd gathered.
"A blue substance lodged in people's heads. Like a jellyfish, stuck to the hippocampus, spreading across the brain."
Even retelling it sent a chill through him—especially at the thought that his own head might harbor the same thing.
Vik patted his shoulder.
"Relax. I scanned your brain when I treated you. No blue jellyfish in there."
Reassuring words, but Arthur was already reclining on the exam chair, beckoning Vik closer.
"Check again,Vik. Better safe than sorry."
Viktor sighed but rolled over a ring-shaped scanner, fitting it around Arthur's head.
"All right. Let's see if anything's changed."
The scan was quick, Arthur sitting still while Vik studied the results on-screen.
"See? Looks normal. Your brain's fine."
Arthur studied the red-and-black images. Everything looked normal—until he asked,
"What are those black patches?"
"The folds of the cortex. Red are gyri, black are sulci."
"But what about those tiny irregular bumps along the edges? They look like burrs.
Could the machine be glitching?"
Arthur's question made Vik lean forward, his expression growing serious. Looking closer, he saw it too.
Along several sulci, faint, downy black filaments clung like shadows. Definitely not a machine error—his equipment was top-grade.
Quickly, Vik pulled up older scans for comparison. Fortunately, they weren't from long ago. Studying them closely, he caught it—subtle differences in the shadows. A shade even darker than black.
Arthur noticed Vik's expression change. Something was wrong with his brain.
"Tell me again what you saw in that lab. Every detail."
Arthur described the scene. Vik pictured it in his mind and pressed further.
"Did those blue threads burrow into that poor bastard's brain?"
"Yeah. Looked like they came from inside, some spots glowing with a blue halo."
Vik's face hardened as he stared at the faint black fuzz on the scan—something even an experienced ripperdoc like him might have overlooked.
"For now, the best guess is that the drug in your system isn't the same as what's in that lab. But its effect on you… still unknown.
Go over your memories carefully—see if anything feels out of place."
Arthur scoffed inwardly.
"Out of place? Nothing feels out of place.
His case isn't just 'off'—he's practically a whole new person."
He shrugged, shaking his head.
...
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