Arthur retrieved his "old friends" from a specially designed armory.
Conveniently, he had left all of these weapons with Vik.
Of course, the Giant was unlikely to be of use again this time. Instead, Arthur pulled out the Achilles, its surface coated with some unknown substance.
Under the light, the rifle gleamed as if freshly oiled, yet without the greasy feel of gun oil.
That was the advantage of leaving the guns with Vik—not only were they kept safe, but if Vik had the time, he even gave them proper maintenance.
Arthur slung the rifle over his shoulder and loaded the matching ammunition. They weren't fully ready, but the arrow was already on the string.
Just as Arthur and the others were busy preparing for tomorrow's operation, a call came through.
He glanced at the display and frowned almost imperceptibly—it was an unknown number.
Hopefully, this wasn't trouble.
"Hello, Arthur Morgan... right...
Hope I've got the right person."
The voice was slow, somewhat similar to Vik's, though not quite as deep.
On the neural link's display, the man's figure was completely shrouded in darkness, revealing nothing about him.
"Yes... it's me. Are you a Fixer?"
At Arthur's confirmation, the man chuckled lightly before replying.
"Heh... sharp as ever. Yes, I'm a Fixer.
Here's the deal: your situation seems urgent, so I won't waste time. Of course, rules are rules—I'll need the right price.
I heard you're looking for a factory blueprint, and as it happens, I've got a lead. That's why I reached out."
He spoke unhurriedly, like a fox lurking in the shadows, yet his words carried an odd sense of trustworthiness.
Perhaps it was the aura of someone who always seemed in control.
Had Arthur met Faraday before, he might have noticed the similarity. That four-eyed, brooding man always tried to project the same aura, but instead only came across as pretentious.
Arthur exhaled slowly and asked without hesitation:
"What do you want?"
"I'll be straight with you—this intel has fallen into my lap.
...
On its own, it doesn't carry much value. But when the right person needs it, its worth becomes immeasurable.
That's how information works.
So—twenty thousand eddies. That's my price.
And you know this isn't extortion."
"I'll take it."
Arthur answered almost instantly, not a trace of hesitation in his voice.
But his quick agreement didn't please the man—it only drew a pause.
"Oh? You actually agreed... Refreshing... Ha ha."
The shadow stirred briefly before settling back into stillness.
"Interesting man... I was planning to make you haggle, maybe use that to establish a connection. Seems I overthought it."
With his little ploy exposed, the man didn't bother hiding his intent.
"I can lower the price. How about future cooperation?"
"No need for a discount," Arthur replied, transferring the funds directly.
"As you said, that map is crucial to us.
As for working together, I'd be glad to—after I've finished what's already on my plate."
"Of course... of course...
Good luck, friend."
"By the way, since you know my name, how should I address you?" Arthur asked before the line could cut off.
"You can call me Mr. Hands. Whether you use the 'Mr.' or not is up to you.
I'm someone who collects trust, trading it for my integrity.
But I'm also cautious—especially here in Pacifica, a place riddled with danger."
"Don't worry, I won't be calling you 'Old Hands—at least not to your face."
Arthur had taken a liking to the Fixer, even cracking a mild joke.
"Ha ha..."
As expected, the man played along, chuckling before adding:
"You've got a sense of humor. That's a strength. I'll remember it..."
With that, the call ended.
"Looks like your mission just got a little easier."
Vik's deep voice rumbled. He had been paying attention from the moment Arthur picked up the call.
From Arthur's words alone, he had already pieced together what it was about.
"Right. A Fixer named Hands called.
He's based in Pacifica."
Arthur explained.
"Impressive... anyone who can survive in Pacifica has earned it."
Vik praised before continuing:
"Let's hope what he gave us helps. Going in head-on would be far too risky."
His concern was clear. No matter how sharp Arthur's aim, no matter how skilled Jackie and the others were, their ability couldn't mask the danger of this mission.
This was still the industrial age—everyone had a gun, everyone could install cyberware. And that factory sat in the Badlands, where heavy firepower could easily be stockpiled.
...
At the Arasaka Seaside facility, inside a factory building of unknown purpose, every door and window was sealed shut.
Even under the blazing sun, not a single ray of light slipped inside.
The darkness was quiet, but if one listened closely, faint sounds could be heard.
The light breath of someone still alive... and a faint hum, as if some unknown machine idled in standby.
The silence dragged on, suffocating in its length... until at some unknown moment, a harsh creak broke it, granting even a sliver of dim light.
In the darkness, David's eyes were bloodshot, like a starving dog at death's door. He couldn't even raise his head properly.
This wasn't the lingering effect of the nerve blockers from days before. He simply no longer had the strength.
"Tomorrow we depart. Tell me—do you think your friends will find you?"
The visitor was Tanaka, entrusted with full authority over this experiment—his chance at promotion.
He had smiled more in the past few days than in the last few decades combined.
Perhaps this was what it meant to be riding high.
With a smile, he gazed at the boy hanging before him.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser