Along the streets, massive holographic billboards seemed almost real in the night—scantily clad models leaning against skyscrapers that disappeared into the sky, welcoming every visitor to Night City.
Traffic showed no sign of slowing. Angry honks mixed with curses, while bursts of multicolored light scattered wildly, streaking across the car windows.
"Finally over... Damn it, this time I'm taking a long vacation."
Leaning back in the passenger seat, Arthur had already tossed his hat onto the dashboard.
The chaotic lights outside flickered across his face, his stubble shifting shades with every passing glow.
"It's about time for a break... Christmas is just a few days away. Maybe we should actually get together for once."
V's clear voice came from the driver's seat.
Her hands rested loosely on the wheel, the recent surgery seemingly leaving her completely unfazed.
"Holidays... has it really been a year already?"
Arthur muttered, though not because he cared about the holiday itself.
Back then, they sometimes didn't even know the month, let alone care about some damn festival.
Still, in less than a year, things had been... eventful, to say the least.
"I need some proper sleep... and to stay far away from your mess."
As he said it, Arthur suddenly remembered something and glanced at V.
"Oh, right... how's the new Cyberware?"
"No clue... that damn progress bar is crawling so slowly it's driving me nuts.
Maybe we'll give it a try tomorrow."
The car roared down the road, carrying them through a short stretch of time. When it stopped again, they were back in Watson.
Little China's grimy, bustling streets unfolded before them—along with a new comm call bringing their mission's payment.
"Nice work, friends..."
The dim lighting was as usual, but this time Mr. Hands appeared fully illuminated. Behind him, polished stone walls shimmered with flowing light.
"We're not in the business of needing customer reviews... Just pay us more."
Arthur cracked a small joke. He had a certain fondness for this steady Fixer.
"Haha..." Mr. Hands chuckled softly on the other end. The 'joke' wasn't particularly funny, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the easy familiarity.
"Of course, the payment will be more generous... Consider it my treat for a round of drinks.
Forgive me for not joining you. That Gig may be wrapped up, but... my attention is still tied elsewhere.
You see, their situation isn't so different from mine back in the day...
That's all for now."
With that, he cut the line.
The payment—50,000 eddies each—added to the string of recent jobs, pushed Arthur's balance past 300,000 eddies.
Enough to live comfortably for a good while...
"Pretty good payday for this Gig, huh?"
V had received the same transfer. She shot Arthur a sideways glance, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Not bad... Maybe I should think about retiring."
Neural Link accounts were convenient, he thought. At least this time he wouldn't lose his hard-earned savings to some stupid screw-up, like in the old days.
"Retire?
At the very least, you should move.
Keep living in that megabuilding dump, and sooner or later someone's gonna knock you over the head."
V's savings had to be higher than Arthur's—after all, she'd been taking Gigs nonstop while he was still recovering.
But clearly... she wasn't happy with her balance.
She was aiming to get back to the standard of living she'd once had with the company.
"I'm perfectly happy where I am. Dry, warm, bathroom right next to the bed... don't even have to walk far to take a piss at night.
See? A big house isn't all it's cracked up to be."
Arthur smirked, his eyes overflowing with indifference.
"But your place is crawling with drunks... and lunatics hiding in the walls.
Know what that means?
Vomit outside your door, or stray bullets flying past at night."
V shot back, arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on Arthur, a playful smirk curling her lips.
"Or is it... you just can't handle walking that short a distance?"
Arthur ignored the jab. The elevator clattered to a halt, delivering them to their floor.
Surprisingly, two NCPD officers were stationed beside a strip of crime scene tape—someone else had probably been killed. The hallway was brightly lit, with a few stragglers wandering about, likely tenants kicked out for missing rent.
Arthur brushed it all aside and strode straight into his apartment, V following without hesitation.
He collapsed onto the sofa, several bottles already lined up on the small coffee table—pulled straight from his fridge.
V sank into the other side of the couch, fully relaxed. Alcohol was, after all, the best way to guarantee a good night's sleep... though she never kept it stockpiled at home.
"Maybe I should wish you a happy move.
Why not crawl back to Westbrook, play kiddie badge games with your old coworkers?"
Arthur hugged a bottle, taking a heavy swig. The burn in his throat made him squint.
"You couldn't be more wrong... dumb cowboy.
I'll use my savings to buy a good car first. Not waste it on a cabinet full of booze to drown myself in like you."
V yanked the cork from her bottle and downed a few gulps.
She could say that—V almost never drank herself under.
"Alright... alright... Hah—"
Arthur exhaled a long breath, then shifted the subject.
"Melanie... that little boss. Tell me... was Nord a traitor?"
It wasn't their concern anymore, but Arthur still wanted to ask. Maybe it was some lingering obsession—anything involving traitors hit close to home.
He remembered how V had barely reacted when the traitor left.
"Maybe it was just old habits?
They never put it on the table, probably to leave themselves some room."
V rocked her bottle lazily, her tone calm.
"But... that Nord guy probably won't be around much longer..."
...