Dogtown wasn't big—finding someone... wasn't difficult.
As long as they weren't hiding.
It was a relatively intact building. Though its exterior was ringed by rough, gray-white concrete, and the holes that should've been filled with building materials remained exposed, at least the main structure still stood complete—not half-built.
Several abandoned cars lay piled on the ground outside.
Half-buried in sand, their paint had been stripped away by wind and grit.
"Just walk straight in like this? Doesn't seem too reliable."
Pushing the door open and stepping out, V stared straight ahead.
"We're here to do business."
Arthur also got out, pressing a hand down on his hat as he walked in front.
Moving so boldly was the best gesture of goodwill when facing strangers.
Still, he shifted his holster slightly, settling it into a comfortable position.
Inside was as crude as outside: unfinished concrete walls.
Discarded cardboard and rags littered the floor, probably left by Nomads.
At the back of the hall, in a patch of heavier shadow, a staircase seemed to hide.
Arthur frowned, eyes fixed on the spot.
"You've clearly come to the wrong place."
A rough voice rasped from the dark, like a throat seared with a branding iron.
A tall figure stepped out, the first thing visible being the black muzzle of a gun.
"We're here to talk."
Arthur shifted naturally to the side, lifting his hand in a gesture of invitation.
"I can see that.
Talk...
Then let's talk... We're both here in good faith."
The man emerged fully from the shadows—a burly figure nearly Arthur's height.
He wore a black tactical vest crammed with loaded magazines, brass bullets pressed tight. Grenades hung beneath: fragmentation, anti-personnel, even electromagnetic disruptors.
Judging by the bulge of the vest, ballistic plates were inside.
"Money... Two hundred thousand eddies, no bargaining. Everything's yours.
If it's business... we want a Scavenger stronghold wiped out. We're trying to carve a foothold in Dogtown..."
The man paused, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.
"Let's be clear: it's risky. We can't afford to lose anyone else."
In other words, Arthur and V were being asked to walk into the most dangerous, open battlefield.
"You think we're easy to push around?"
From behind Arthur, V let out a cold laugh, menace lacing her tone.
"You can't afford losses... but you think only Scavs kill?
Those organ-harvesters? We've carved them up just for practice.
We kill too."
"Of course. And I don't care what you're capable of.
But you want something, and that something... is in our hands.
It could vanish just as easily."
His tone didn't change, like a cornered wild dog.
It was obvious their situation was bad.
"Maybe there's another way to talk."
Arthur's hoarse voice broke in as he pulled a chip from his pocket.
"The fixer who hired us would be happy to negotiate with you..."
It was a traceless communication chip—the same kind Mr. Hansen had handed them at the end. Maybe out of shared fate, he'd felt deep sympathy for these people who'd fled the corporations.
The man's eyes flickered as he stared at the chip. At last, he stepped forward and snatched it up.
It was like a lifeline to a drowning man.
Chased to this point, watching colleagues die one after another, their hearts had long been soaked in grief and despair.
Without hesitation, he jammed the chip into the port at the back of his skull.
As his eyes glowed faintly, data streaming across them, V holstered her pistol and stepped up beside Arthur.
Her sunglasses now hung from the collar of her jacket, black eyes fixed on Arthur.
"Doesn't feel this simple...
Still... hopefully Hansen can make it work."
It was clear she pitied the poor bastard, hoping things wouldn't spiral out of control.
"We'll see... Taking out Scavs isn't out of the question."
If it meant going after those kidney harvesters, Arthur could muster the strength. Those animals were one of his few true enemies in Night City.
"The Scavs here aren't like the ones outside..."
V's voice was low but carried clearly to Arthur.
"Dogtown's cyberware supply is a mess. They can't get it through legitimate channels. Night City's black market mostly caters to mercs—it can't sustain an entire district.
So the warlord here... Hansen, tolerates the Scavs far more than anyone else would.
That's made those butchers bolder than ever.
In short, Scavs in Dogtown are nastier and harder to deal with than anywhere else."
After explaining patiently, V glanced back at the man still in mid-communication. Arthur's optical implants glimmered faintly, scanning the shadows of the room.
"Hmph—
Scavengers...
I still can't bring myself to call them trouble.
You really ought to get some cyberware, before a Night City hobo manages to push you around."
Arthur's gravelly jab had barely landed before V's practiced retort hit back.
"You should shove a fistful of sand in your mouth.
Even ants can kill an elephant. Don't get yourself gnawed to death by rats, or I'll be the one digging your grave."
After so much time together, they were completely at ease. V hardly got riled up by Arthur's sharp tongue anymore.
It wasn't long before the man ended his call.
Snapping back to reality, he fixed his eyes on Arthur and V again.
"Follow me... let's talk properly."
Led by him, they reached an external elevator.
The lift was crude, surrounded by waist-high mesh railings, rust-stained and yellowed from years of sand and wind.
With a low rumble, it carried them to the building's mid-level.
A circle of canvas tarps shielded the area, billowing high in the wind. Gusts slipped through the gaps, wailing with a low, mournful sound.
There, a group of children were huddled, playing near the elevator doors.
They started forward when they saw the burly man leading the way, but the two unfamiliar faces behind him made them scatter in fear.
Clearly... strangers didn't leave them with good impressions.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser