The vehicle sped along the highway. From the towering overpass, the majestic yet decaying ruins of Pacifica came into view through the window, filling their sight.
Warm but gentle sunlight draped itself over the sprawling ruin. It almost seemed... as if the sun itself favored Pacifica, reluctant to leave what should have been Night City's most beautiful district.
Breaking away from the rushing traffic, V tightened her grip on the wheel and guided them off the highway.
"This place... those curse-chanting Voodoo freaks. I've got history with them."
Arthur narrowed his eyes, scanning the scene above.
Pacifica's roads were dotted with surveillance cameras. Last time, they'd been tracked down—most likely because he and Jackie had been caught on one of those feeds.
"You mean... the Voodoo Boys?
Those bastards are disgusting. A pack of sewer rats."
Though V's words dripped with disdain, she still kept glancing upward, careful not to pass directly beneath a camera.
Rats were filthy enough—but getting bitten by one was another matter entirely.
They pulled up in front of a towering building and stepped out. Arthur tilted his head back, staring up at the structure.
"Looks like... our new partner's got some real pull."
V's tone carried a note of admiration.
"From what I've heard, Mr. Hands doesn't usually meet his partners in person.
Among the Fixers in Night City, he might be the most mysterious of them all."
Speaking with excitement, V strode straight inside.
The interior was as lavish as the outside suggested.
Dim lights spilled in soft circles across polished black walls. They looked as though they'd been cut from natural stone, the veins running through them giving off a quiet, organic beauty.
The atmosphere reminded Arthur of another place—the City Center apartment...
When the elevator doors opened, they had effectively stepped into the Fixer's private residence. This whole floor was his. Before them stretched what could only be called a hallway.
The moment their call was answered, the door swung open.
The room felt warm and welcoming. In the soft light, a middle-aged man stood in the living room, dressed in an immaculate maroon suit.
"Well, well—look who's here. Snatching people out of Arasaka's grip... quite the accomplishment."
His deep, steady voice was the same as on the comms. But in person, Mr. Hands carried far more emotion than expected. His words were laced with a faint smile, as if he were greeting old friends.
"A legendary mercenary, and a former Arasaka counterintelligence director who just broke free.
Ha... I have a feeling this city's about to get a lot more interesting.
And Arthur... you've had your comms shut off lately. For a moment, I thought you'd end up like the other legends I've never met—make a big name for yourself, then vanish without a trace."
His manner bordered on overly familiar. Gesturing slowly toward a circle of plush sofas, he said, "Sit down... Unless, of course... this version of me isn't to your liking?"
Once they had taken their seats, V answered.
"It's just... compared to your mysterious persona before, now you seem..."
"More ordinary?
Every mask serves a purpose.
And right now... people prefer to make friends with ordinary folk. That's what I want—to make friends."
With a smile, Mr. Hands retrieved a bottle of clear liquor from beneath the table. The liquid chimed musically as he swirled it, then he poured three glasses and slid two toward his guests.
"Honestly, your loyalty to each other has moved me."
He gestured for them to drink, his voice steady and deep.
"This city is consumed by greed. The streets may be crowded, shoulder to shoulder, but the distance between souls is immense.
Perhaps you don't know... I once worked in a corp. My position back then—I already held some real influence.
I used to believe that true maturity was coldly distributing profit, that money was another kind of blood, binding those around me tightly to my side.
Until the tower collapsed...
I hit the ground hard and cold. And that money... those people... they scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind."
He paused, seeming surprised at how much he'd said. With a quiet chuckle and a shake of his head, he sipped at his drink.
Still, his words weren't wasted. Arthur and V raised their glasses at last, offering a distant toast.
"You're happy... and so am I. Though I've known misfortune, I've also found contentment.
I changed my face, only to discover my true self again. The world works in strange ways...
And if... someday... we do become friends, I'll make sure you meet my daughter. She's a delightful little thing."
"I'm sure we'll get along. I'm the type who loves making friends.
But for now... let's talk business."
V set her glass down with a laugh.
"Right... the job.
As for ZetaTech—I've dealt with them before. Not exactly a humane company.
There was a ZetaTech lab where the entire staff defected. We don't know why, but with corps... the reasons are always the same.
Zeta's been hunting them down, killing most. A handful managed to slip into Dogtown, hiding out there.
You'll need to get into Dogtown, track them down, and bring back what they've got.
As for the people... best not to harm them. They're just unfortunate souls. I'll see they're paid fairly, or my contacts in Dogtown can make their lives a little easier."
Mr. Hands spoke slowly, but never tediously—his words flowed like a story.
"Dogtown...
We can't just walk in there.
Kurt Hansen runs that place, and he doesn't exactly welcome outsiders."
V swirled the clear liquid in her glass, watching it ripple.
This wasn't negotiation. Dogtown was likely the only district in Night City still bristling with heavy military hardware. If you crossed Hansen, that madman might just roll out in his Basilisk and blast you to pieces.
That anti-gravity tank? Its main gun was an electromagnetic railgun.