When she came back, she carried a hat almost identical to the ruined one on the table.
She handed the new one to Arthur, then gently pushed the old one toward him.
"Maybe... you'll still need it.
Hats, you can always replace. But life—you only get one.
I just hope all my friends make it through."
Her makeup might have been eccentric, but the sincerity and warmth in her words were unmistakable to anyone who knew her.
Arthur nodded and took the hat.
...
By the time he reached the basement clinic, he was alone again.
The familiar scene greeted him: dim lights and gray-white walls.
"I figured you wouldn't show up until tomorrow."
Vik was the first to speak, clearly aware Arthur's crew had wrapped up their job.
Jessica had sent word—Arthur had made her stay with Vik to keep her out of danger.
"Hey... old friend, where else would I go?
Not many places welcome someone like me."
Arthur shrugged as he stepped inside.
"Hah... that's not entirely true."
Vik set aside his tools, wiped his hands, and smiled.
"This is Night City. If you can get the job done, you'll have more people wanting to be your 'friend' than you'll know what to do with."
"Yeah... I wouldn't call that good news."
Arthur dragged a chair over and sat down like he belonged there.
"Whew... Arthur...
So our first job's finished, then?"
Hearing the voices, Jessica came running from the back of the clinic.
When Jessica saw the gauze cap still perched on Arthur's head, he shook his own with a half-smile.
He sent her the payment transfer right away.
"Huh...?
Why? I still owe you money..."
She froze when the notification hit her, staring at him in confusion.
"Relax—money's not the issue. What you need is your own place. Time to rent an apartment and move out of mine."
When she opened her mouth to argue, Arthur raised a hand.
"End of discussion."
"But... living alone...
Can I really handle it?"
Jessica lowered her head, stealing nervous glances at him.
"You need to grow up, Jessica."
Vik chuckled at the scene.
"I've got an idea. You could rent near Arthur's place. That way you can lean on him when you need to.
And hey... there are plenty of empty units in the courtyard."
"Alright..."
She kept sneaking looks at Arthur's face. Seeing no sign of hesitation, she pouted.
"Then... Arthur!
Will you help me set up the new place?"
"Sure, sure...
Treat me like your housekeeper if you want. Just don't bother pretending to be polite."
Her pitiful expression earned only a weary wave from Arthur.
"Anyway, Vik—how's that stash of gold?"
Arthur shifted to business. He didn't bother keeping it from Jessica—Jackie and the others already knew. And even though Rebecca had said she wouldn't take more, Arthur hadn't forgotten her share.
At the mention of gold, Vik's smile faded. He leaned forward, serious.
"Other than the first batch, nothing else has moved.
The market's way more sensitive to this stuff than I expected. If I dumped it now, we'd be lucky to get thirty or forty percent of its value.
So I held back. It's your call—it's your gold."
Arthur frowned. He hadn't expected such a massive loss.
"No other way?"
"There's always a way.
This city's a miracle machine—it can solve almost anything, if you've got the muscle to back it up.
Gold's valuable, sure. Everyone prefers it.
But only if you're operating at a scale bigger than the gold itself."
Vik's gaze swept the room, his voice edged with resignation.
With their current strength, they couldn't handle something that big—it would tear them apart.
Arthur had lived his whole life—no, two lives—on the edge of a blade.
In his first, he'd tried hard to escape that path, but deep down, he hadn't truly hated it.
Didn't love it either.
He'd died the first time swallowed by the churn of changing times and misplaced loyalty.
Now, in Night City, the road ahead looked just as hazy.
"What do you think? Keep it?"
Something unseen pushed him and his new allies forward, never giving them time to stop.
Vik's words made it feel like he'd brushed against some deeper truth... but it was still just out of reach.
Maybe he'd stumble and fall on this path. Maybe he'd break through. Who knew?
"Keep it."
Vik fixed his gaze back on him.
"The logic's simple. Sell it now, take a hit, and you could still live comfortably for a decade.
But if you hold onto it, it's a reserve. A lifeline.
If the day comes you need it, it'll get you out of one hell of a mess."
"Then I'll keep it. I'm not about to crawl into a hole and wait until I'm old and useless before remembering I'm hungry."
"Hahaha... That's the right way to see it. Some choices only exist while you're still young."
"Speaking of which..."
Arthur's hand drifted to his waist.
"Someone gave me another gun. Thought you'd want to see it."
He drew the pale-blue revolver.
"They call it Frontier. I like the name."
He handed it over.
Vik turned it in his hands, studying it.
"Looks like a custom job from some gunsmith. Never seen anything like it.
But yeah... I can tell it's a good fit for you."
As they spoke, the clinic door banged open. Before Arthur could even look, the noise gave it away.
"Doc Vik!
Is my mom awake? Where is she?"
A blur of yellow rushed in with the voice.
It was David—back after a long absence.
Vik stood, shaking his head with a weary smile.
This kid... already a merc who could hold his own, but still charging in without thinking.
...