"...You're angry...
Good. That's how it should be. But..."
A plump hand hovered near David's furious face, giving it a few light pats.
The next instant, the same hand swung high as if to slap him, but stopped just short of his cheek.
"Ah...
Don't be afraid. Why would I hit you?
You're just a rung on the ladder. I step on you to climb higher—why would I bother turning back to smack the ladder?"
The hand pressed against David's forehead, slowly combing through his hair as Tanaka spoke with smug delight.
"Talking to you at all is already mercy on my part, isn't it?
...
You should be grateful I came all this way to let you die with clarity."
He withdrew his hand, wiping at his greasy chin.
"Where to begin... Oh, right!
Your behavioral model has been sitting in the Arasaka Academy archives this whole time. Forgotten already?
Idiot."
Behavioral model—constructed from massive datasets.
Only corporate supercomputers could decode it, then scour the Net for a matching individual.
"Looks like you've forgotten I'm still your enemy.
Is it because you stumbled into that Cyberware?
...
That's exactly why the company came after you...
...
Good. Your anger might even help the experiment along."
With those words, Tanaka faded from David's sight, his voice lingering like poison.
...
The thunderclap moments earlier—like a giant pounding the sky—had jolted many awake in the dead of night.
But Arthur wasn't one of them.
On his narrow bed, like a man boxed in metal, his snoring hadn't faltered once.
"Ding—"
...
"Ding—"
The noise buzzed in his ears. Arthur swatted at the air irritably and rolled over.
"Ding—"
But the sound clung to him, echoing like a ghost in his head.
"What... what now?"
His voice rasped dry as he forced himself upright, absently waving near his ear.
"Hey... Arthur... Something's happened. It's that kid David. Lucy came to me."
The moment the call connected, Viktor's deep, unmistakable voice filled the line.
His words came fast, the tension sharp compared to Arthur's groggy mind.
"...Still a chance?"
Arthur forced his eyes open with a squint. He hadn't drunk much last night—he must've just been dead tired.
"Not injured. Looks like he was kidnapped... Anyway, that girl wants to see you."
"If he's not hurt... then why come to you..."
Already on instinct, Arthur was out of bed.
By the time he spoke, he was at his apartment door.
"Kidnapped?
We've got money, sure...
But something feels off. How much are they asking?"
He grabbed the coat hanging by the door, threw it over his shoulders, snatched a hat from the shoe cabinet, and shoved the door open.
The rain outside was louder, heavier than the muffled patter on the apartment windows. It fell in a steady, endless sheet.
He stared down the corridor at the slanted curtain of rain weaving itself into a vast shroud.
"This rain... it's gotten worse."
Worse than when he'd come back.
Pulling his hat down low, Arthur headed for the elevator.
A pale, cold sunlight had begun to break through, scattering across the downpour and tapping against the elevator shaft's hollow steel walls.
A television hung above the shaft. Onscreen, a man in a pink suit spoke with practiced ease.
His eyes were lined with makeup, but it didn't look grotesque.
No one in Night City could fail to recognize him.
Stanley , the city's star host.
"Now, now, now—any of you dreaming of a career at Militech—your good friend Stanley has a bit of advice."
He paused dramatically, clearing his throat in mock style.
"Remember, if you're lucky enough to get an offer from Militech...
the first thing you prepare isn't a resume—it's a will!
Better yet, buy some insurance. Not that they ever pay out.
But if you die, at least your family will have a roof—at the insurance company's housing.
Ha ha! And why am I telling you this?
Because just recently, their Head of Internal Affairs turned up in a sewer.
That man had access to Militech's top-floor boardrooms here in Night City.
Looks like our new Operations Director isn't the easiest man to get along with.
But what's that got to do with folks like us? Let Arasaka lose sleep over it..."
Stanley clearly had connections—or maybe it was just an unspoken arrangement. He never singled out just one corporation.
Whatever the reason, he was a star. Still, more than a few of his past guests had later pulled the trigger on themselves.
Arthur tore his gaze away and stepped into the open elevator, disappearing into the rain.
Raindrops hammered the brim of his gambler's hat, a steady patter.
Cold drops splashed his shoulders and trickled to his ears, raising the hairs there.
He quickened his pace and soon crossed into Little China.
The buildings here were low and crowded, with plenty of awnings for cover.
From a distance, he spotted the familiar building and broke into a jog.
Misty's Esoterica was empty. Without pausing, he pushed open the door to the underground clinic.
Several people were gathered there, all silent.
"Uh... what's the situation here?"
In the middle of the clinic, Lucy sat in a chair, pale and shaken.