The first call from the middleman came that day. It was a dry voice, but hidden within it was an unreadable confidence.
Arthur had already seen the caller's name—Okada Wakako.
"Kid, I hear there's a new reliable person in Watson. A friend left me your contact info.
I have a job, not too big, not too small. I wonder if you're interested?"
The old lady's tone was like a kind grandmother next door, but this very grandmother was the undisputed boss of Westbrook.
"There isn't much I'm good at, but as long as it's a money-making business, I don't think I'll refuse."
"Young people always talk big. I hope you're not just for show.
I'm sending you the mission details now. If you do a good job, we'll work together often."
After Okada Wakako finished speaking, she ended the call.
At the same time, a crisp sound echoed in Arthur's head, and a line of mission data was transmitted.
"This thing is really convenient."
Arthur tapped his head, then began to examine what had been sent.
In Westbrook, on Jig-Jig Street, Okada Wakako's territory, a robbery had occurred two days prior.
To call it a robbery wasn't quite accurate; it was more like a massacre. All the living people in a joytoy shop had been killed, and the perpetrators had also killed several passersby while escaping.
They headed north, passing through the City Center. Wakako's people didn't dare to make a big move there and eventually lost track of them.
But they were certain that the group had fled into Watson.
This group had undoubtedly slapped Wakako's face, so naturally, both sides had to clash to see who was more difficult to provoke.
At the end of the file was Wakako's message regarding the reward.
"I'll pay you 2000 eddies. If you do a good job, more is acceptable.
But! Don't try to fool me with a lump of meat that doesn't look human."
"Damn it, am I doing a cop's job again?"
Perhaps hearing Arthur's muttering, Viktor, who was watching a boxing match, leaned over to turn off the monitor in front of him and turned his chair to face Arthur.
"Is the first job that quick?"
"Naughty rats committed a crime in the south and ran to the north, thinking they could change their identity and no one would find them."
Arthur replied indifferently, picking up a pistol nearby and standing up.
"I'm going to meet this world."
"So? You're just taking the most basic pistol?"
Viktor looked like a nagging mother.
Arthur had already reached the clinic door. He suddenly turned back, a questioning look on his face.
"By the way, how much do I owe you?"
"A little over ten thousand…"
This was clearly too little.
"Hey, how much exactly?"
Arthur pressed on, speechless.
"Forty-seven thousand eddies, that's a friendship price…"
Watching Viktor spread his hands, Arthur turned and left.
"Damn it, I might as well find a Scavenger and sell myself."
Leaving the clinic, up the stairs, was Misty's fortune-telling booth.
Even though it was broad daylight, the booth was unusually dim, with only a few small purple lights stubbornly emitting light.
Misty, with her strange makeup, looked like a swamp witch.
"It seems you've got a job. Want to draw a card?"
Arthur frowned as he approached the counter and saw a stack of rectangular cards piled in front of Misty.
"What is this?"
"A… trick to peek into fate."
Although Misty's explanation was abstract, Arthur barely understood it.
"I thought only blind beggars did these things.
So, how do I draw?"
Spreading the stack of cards on the table with her hand, Misty gestured.
"Help yourself, draw as many as you like."
Casually drawing a card from the middle of the stack, Arthur flipped it over and placed it on the table.
A person stood on the card, his back to the world, a pale scale serving as his shoulders and bones.
"Oh, a special card.
It's called Justice, a card for resolving disputes.
It calls for order, hoping to see through lies and deception, to return everything to its natural state. Justice implies a fair judgment, but also due process."
After explaining, Misty smiled and looked up at Arthur, only to see a bewildered expression filling his face.
"It seems I'm not suited to hearing these mystical words."
Saying this, Arthur raised his hand and pointed behind Misty.
A deer head ornament hung on the wall behind her. On its right antler, a gambler's hat rested.
The hat was made of brown leather, with its brim slightly upturned on both sides, with a strong and natural curve—almost identical to the one Arthur wore in his previous life.
"I'd like that one."
Misty also followed Arthur's finger to the hat. She put on a gentle smile, turned, and took it down.
"Consider it… a gift from me.
I wish you safety!"
Wakako's people had already found the thugs' hideout, in an abandoned factory in the North City Industrial District.
Many rats liked to hide there.
The elderly middleman wanted Arthur to find out the reason for her attack and was willing to pay extra for it.
Leaving them alive would undoubtedly add some difficulty to Arthur's actions.
But then again, Arthur was short on money.
The streets of Watson were like cheese crawling with maggots.
The wide, neat main streets exuded the fresh scent of civilization and corporations, but the ubiquitous excrement and wall stains cast a foul odor.
Sometimes, the shadows of the past can be more sorrowful than desolation.
After some travel, Arthur arrived near the abandoned factory Wakako had mentioned.
It was a cluster of low-rise factory buildings, with no chimneys standing tall. The surrounding walls, however, were very solid, with no gaps or damage.
By this time, the sun was setting in the west. Under the remaining sunlight, the factory was unusually quiet, with no movement inside.
Arthur found a hiding spot next to the factory. He didn't believe these petty thieves would have any discipline; he needed to wait for them to expose a weakness.
Sure enough, at midnight, a figure sneaked out of one of the factory buildings and stealthily left the area.
From a distance, Arthur trailed behind him.
The night in the North City Industrial District completely failed to live up to Night City's name. Apart from a few broken streetlights spitting sparks, there was no other movement.
The figure moved straight north, and soon turned into another abandoned factory.
Without hesitation, Arthur quickly followed him in.
An extremely foul stench immediately assaulted Arthur's nose. There was vomit everywhere, new and old, and a pervasive smell of alcohol.
Ducking into a factory building, the figure was no longer visible, and the rumbling sound of an elevator operating came from one side.
It seemed he had gone down the elevator.
Now, Arthur had only two choices: either go down directly to find him or wait here for him to come up.
After careful consideration, Arthur decided to go down.
Judging by the hideout these people chose, they had no roots here and wouldn't leave such a good stronghold unused.
And from the outside, it was highly likely that the place below was for entertainment.
Arthur decisively called the elevator. Once he entered, the elevator immediately began to operate automatically.
Before the elevator even descended, an increasingly strong vibration came from beneath Arthur's feet, accompanied by the roar of music.
When the elevator doors opened again, the deafening music instantly hit Arthur like a gale.
Looking ahead, directly in front was a corridor flashing with dazzling lights.
The lights were all spilling out from the space ahead, and two burly men lay in the corridor.
They were slumped against the wall, occasionally twitching.
Rubbing his numb ears hard from the vibrations, Arthur stepped over the two men and pursued them inside.
Immediately, Arthur felt himself drowned by the music pounding his eardrums.
The circular hall was packed with people, wildly twisting their bodies, and the drinks they held in their hands splattered everywhere in the air.
The atmosphere here was filled with madness. The lights overhead were like sand thrown into people's eyes, making it hard to keep them open.
Arthur had no intention of directly searching for the figure; he roughly pushed through the crowd and laboriously made his way to the bar.