"Come on... We may be mercs, but we need some kind of purpose.
You're really planning to spend the rest of your life in this piss-stinking hallway?"
Not that it would be the worst thing... It's still better than sleeping in a tent.
In summer, I wouldn't wake up covered in bites from God-knows-what bugs, and in winter, my feet wouldn't be rotting with frost sores. What's so bad about that?
Arthur glanced at V's annoyed expression and decided not to argue.
"Alright, enough. Stop dragging your feet.
I'll be waiting downstairs."
She stormed out as quick as she came.
Arthur didn't take long either. He threw on a coat and stepped through the apartment door that kept out the city's noise.
Inside the cage-like elevator, the ever-playing TV was running a news segment.
A woman in purple was reporting:
"The day before yesterday, Arasaka Corporation officially dismissed Abernathy, head of Night City's Operations Division and member of the Arasaka Tower Decision Committee.
This shakeup is reportedly linked to the recent attack on Night City's aerial checkpoint. The AV involved has been confirmed as Abernathy's personal ride.
The crashed vehicle was none other than Rayfield's flagship model—the Caliburn. Whether this will damage Rayfield's reputation remains to be seen, pending market reaction.
Investigators claim the accident was caused by three specialized armor-piercing rounds that disabled both engines. But the credibility of this finding is still uncertain.
After all, the checkpoint sits over a thousand meters above ground, and the crash happened at night—making direct observation impossible...
"Or maybe it was just some special bolts tossed down by the Highriders..."
The broadcast droned on, but Arthur didn't look up at the screen. As the elevator doors slid open, he walked out.
Noise crashed in all at once. The ground floor of the megabuilding was packed with cheap stalls, and homeless folk sprawled across the floor.
Gang punks gathered in corners, greasy streaks running through their garish dyed hair.
Arthur quickened his pace and bolted outside—the air inside reeked too much to stand.
Outside, blazing sunlight washed over the square, making the heaps of plastic boxes and trash glint. Street vendors had thrown up massive umbrellas, the gaps between them crammed with bustling heads.
Arthur hurried down the steps. He didn't need to look long—V was already sitting at a stall, chewing on something that looked like a bread roll, cramming bite after bite.
Spotting Arthur, she raised a slender arm and waved him over.
Something sailed his way—he caught it without effort. A whole bread roll.
"Eat that to tide you over. Later we're heading to Pacifica, to meet that... what's-his-name, Mr. Hands, the Fixer.
He was actually looking for you, but... since you shut off your Neural Link comm, he couldn't reach you. So he came to me instead."
In the noisy square, V laid out the details with her usual bluntness.
"Huh.
So what did he promise you that made you willing to trek this far?"
Arthur tore off a big chunk of bread with his teeth, chewed a few times, and mumbled the words.
"He mentioned cutting-edge cyberware...
A few ZetaTech people defected, and they've got whatever they were working on."
No wonder V was so eager—it was about cyberware. She'd been hunting for new upgrades nonstop lately. As for the junk circulating on the black market? V, with her eye for quality, wouldn't give it a second glance.
Halfway through her explanation, V hopped off the stool and started moving toward the edge of the crowd.
"Get in the car first. We'll talk on the way..."
Beside the megabuilding, inside a half-empty garage, V twisted the key and fired up the engine.
"The engine rattled to life, and the car forced its way onto the jammed highway."
"Alright, where was I...
Mr. Hands said he doesn't want the tech itself—just the people, and the data.
Of course... payment is separate."
V grabbed the sunglasses hanging from the rearview mirror and slid them on with practiced ease.
"Sounds generous... but whether it's really generous, that's another story.
He came to you. Do you know the guy?"
In the sunlight, her fair skin glowed with a faint blush, and that confident, cocky smile tugged at her lips.
"Never heard of him..."
Arthur leaned back in his seat, speaking dully. With his new hat pulled down over his face, he was ready to catch a nap.
"He's done us a big favor before. That Arasaka facility map we used to get David out? He's the one who provided it."
Back then, even if he'd demanded a hundred thousand eddies, they'd have had no choice but to pay. The fact he didn't gouge them—that counted as a debt.
"Well... then I guess the payout for this gig won't be a problem..."
...
"Shit, what the hell?!"
V, who had been chatting casually, suddenly slammed the brakes. Arthur lurched in the passenger seat.
"Uh...
I'm guessing you just saw a five-legged horse, otherwise—"
Arthur's gripe died in his throat. His eyes froze wide.
Not a five-legged horse, but...
Ahead, smoke towered sky-high. Through rolling waves of fire and explosions, a vehicle blasted out of the inferno, tumbling through the air.
Above, three AVs hovered in formation. Judging by the paint, they were part of the Anti-Terrorist Task Force.
"I think... we'd better take another route."
Arthur sat up straight, frowning at the carnage. Only when he saw nothing else emerge from the smoke did he glance back. There was still time to turn around.
V didn't hesitate. She wrenched the wheel hard, tires screeching, and sent the car tearing backward.
"Damn it. End of the year and even cyberpsychos are chasing quotas?"
Cursing under her breath, V checked the rearview mirror. Only now were the slower drivers panicking, spinning around and jamming the road behind them in chaos.
These past couple weeks, cyberpsychosis cases had definitely spiked.
They'd already run into several back-to-back.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser