"Looks like you can talk.
All fools are the same—spouting self-important gibberish to trick people who don't understand."
Arthur pressed his boot into the man's shoulder wound again, ignoring his screams as he kept talking.
The files Wakako had given him showed the girls' horrifying conditions.
The gash tearing downward from their lower abdomen… jagged and uneven, clearly ripped open while they were still alive.
Arthur wasn't a saint, but that thought set a fire burning inside him.
"They say there were two others with you. Funny—I didn't see them on the way here.
Why don't they come out and say hello…"
"Spare me, spare me…"
Maybe the pain had snapped his mind; he could only repeat the same words over and over.
Arthur shook his head, bored. He snapped the man's other arm, making sure he couldn't fight back. Now it was time to get to business.
His gaze shifted to the fat man sitting calmly on the sofa.
But before Arthur could speak, the man did.
"Friend, if you've finished your business, just leave."
He gestured at the man writhing on the floor.
"And him. With both his arms broken, that's enough atonement for Wakako Okada."
Arthur stared at the smug expression on his face, momentarily at a loss for words. With people this overconfident, his usual answer was simple: a bullet.
He raised the Prelude. The cylinder spun, and a shot cracked like thunder.
As expected, the bullet was stopped by Subdermal Armor, leaving only a red dent on the man's forehead.
He grinned, convinced he had Arthur figured out.
The Tyger Claws' higher-ups had studied Arthur's fighting style. This Cowboy's body seemed weak, always avoiding close combat.
Jun Oda studied him closely. The man had bulked up, sure—but the weakness must still be there.
"Think you've got us figured out?"
The big man surged to his feet, charging across the table at Arthur.
"You bastard—die!"
Arthur frowned, silently bracing his bones…
But when Oda slammed into him, Arthur didn't move an inch.
Compared to the bodyguard below, this guy was just fat, no muscle.
Arthur caught his swollen fist and crushed it, making Oda howl. With a swift yank, he pulled him closer and seized him by the back of the collar.
He dragged him across the room and smashed him against the towering safe.
"Open it, you bastard!"
Arthur's hoarse voice roared as he drove a vicious kick into him.
Two centuries had passed since he'd last done this, but old habits die hard.
"Faster, you son of a bitch!"
With the Prelude jammed against his skull, Arthur pulled the trigger again.
Another dent in his forehead—that was the only difference.
Whether from the slam against the safe or the bullet rattling in his skull, Oda sat dazed for several seconds before trembling back to his senses.
"I… I can't open it! I don't know the code.
Wait—he knows! Don't kill me, ask him!"
As he raised his hand to point toward Hiromi behind the sofa, Arthur crushed his elbow with a brutal kick.
These men were already dead. No need for mercy.
"Liar. You've still got one arm left."
Clutching his twisted elbow, Oda barely had time to cry out before begging loudly.
"Believe me! I really don't know. I'm innocent—spare me, just this once!"
Arthur bent down, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him face-first into the safe.
"Open the fucking door!"
His muffled cries bled through the iron.
"Please… please…"
Arthur hurled him to the floor, narrowed his eyes, and rasped,
"You're on the list."
Another bullet punched clean through the hollow at the back of Oda's skull.
A spray of blood hit the carpet, soaking into a dark stain.
Arthur turned his gaze to the suited man cowering behind the sofa.
"I hear you can open this damn door. Then do it!"
The last two words made Hiromi Sato flinch. He raised his trembling hands and staggered forward.
"O-okay, don't kill me…"
He bent over, fumbling at the safe.
This wasn't some old spinning-dial relic. The glowing panel read fingerprints, retinas, even biosignatures.
After frantic input, the heavy iron door finally clicked open. Arthur immediately kicked him aside.
Inside, lights revealed rows of gleaming gold bars stacked nearly to Arthur's knees.
Rebecca had edged closer but now froze, eyes wide. Gold was a rare sight these days—siphoned long ago by the corporations.
For her, this was the first time she had ever seen it.
Well, aside from the gold foil in cyberware components.
Arthur, unlike her, knew gold all too well. He picked up a bar, weighed it, and instantly knew it was real.
"Holy shit, Arthur… We might actually retire off this."
Rebecca swallowed hard, staring at the mountain of gold.
Even if it was just a hollow stack, there had to be seventy or eighty bars. Enough to make a corporation wince.
Arthur tossed the bar back, sending the pile tumbling. He grabbed a jacket off the sofa and threw it over the heap.
To him, gold's worth was still stuck in the past. But maybe that was a good thing—it kept him calm, unlike Rebecca.
"Funny. A minor Tyger Claws boss, hoarding this much gold?"
"It's yours—it's your gold, not mine!"
Hiromi dug his heels into the floor, scooting backward frantically, shaking his head.
"I just need to know—is it yours? Or is it theirs?"
Arthur stepped closer, the Prelude twitching in his hand.
"Mine! It's mine!
I skimmed it off myself! Spare me, and I'll keep it quiet!"
Arthur shook his head slowly and ended him with a single shot.
He liked the answer. But the man couldn't be allowed to live.
For scum like him, killing carried no burden.
As Arthur had said before: Fixers aren't allies.
He dispatched the body, silenced the still-wailing ringleader, and the room went quiet again.
"Find a bag—unless you want to carry it by hand."
Arthur tapped Rebecca on the head.
She snapped back to her senses and dashed off, returning with a bag.
Arthur loaded the bars quickly. Even with his strength, it was all he could do to hoist the weight onto his shoulder. Luckily, the bag held.
Every job with Wakako Okada brought unexpected spoils—but this was a jackpot.
They climbed to the rooftop, checked the battered elevator again and again, and finally stepped aboard.
As it dropped, weightlessness swept over them. Rebecca finally found her voice.
"Arthur… this gold… it's not fake, right?"
Arthur gave her a weary look.
"Bumpkin. Better think about how to spend it.
And for now—we'd better keep it quiet."
Switching to another lift, they finally returned to ground level.
Japantown buzzed as always. Crowds streamed past. Aside from Clouds' angry, cursing customers turned away at the door, no one even noticed what had just gone down.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser