Although the lighting at the bar was dim, it was much better than the dance floor in front.
Behind the counter, a scantily clad female bartender was holding a large bottle of liquor, twisting her body to the music playing in the bar.
Her exposed cybernetic panels looked extremely cheap, like different colored rags sewn together, and her face was no longer recognizable, covered by large areas of electronic circuitry.
"What'll it be?"
Seeing Arthur approach, the bartender's cheek speakers emitted a harsh sound, which was just loud enough to be heard in that environment.
"Something strong... never mind, I'll just look myself."
Arthur acted like a normal customer, snatching the electronic menu from the table and pointing to the whiskey option.
The person he was tracking sat at the bar, boasting loudly to a group of people with messy cyberware, haphazardly pouring liquor into his mouth.
Pulling down his hat, Arthur took his drink and silently sat down next to the man.
"A few days ago, there was a cyberpsycho, the one who went on a killing spree in City Center.
We snatched the goods from Trauma Team, you guys wouldn't believe how dangerous that was."
This guy's voice was loud, and Arthur, sitting behind him, heard everything clearly.
The people around him each retorted.
"Got rich? If you got rich, would you sneak back here?"
"Do you think we're stupid and don't know anything? Those Trauma Team outsourced members are just errand boys, no different from street sweepers."
"And I heard you offended some big shot, so you should worry about your own life."
These words might have really hit a nerve, as he screamed like a madman.
"We do our business cleanly.
Once we sell our goods, we'll find a prosperous place to enjoy ourselves.
And you turtles, you'll still be stuck in this small industrial district like bugs."
Everyone here seemed crazy, so his hysteria didn't seem particularly out of place.
Sure enough, his outburst only drew laughter from those around him.
This mode of conversation implicitly divided them into factions, and the mockery and targeting from those around him gradually built up the man's anger.
Before long, he left his seat near the bar and headed out the door.
On the way, passing through the dance floor, he roughly grabbed a few women on both sides.
Arthur saw that the group of people who had just been chatting with the guy had no intention of following, apparently taking him as a joke.
Silently calculating the time it would take for him to finish using the elevator, Arthur also put down his drink and followed him.
It must be said that paying with a neural implant was truly convenient; the entire process felt like eye contact.
The elevator was the dividing line between two worlds; when Arthur returned to the ground, silence enveloped him once again.
There was even a lingering buzzing sound in his ears.
Now was the best time to act; seeing the figure in the distance ahead, Arthur directly drew his gun.
The next moment.
"Bang!"
The reason he acted immediately was that in this quiet, open space, sounds would carry very far.
He had to be far from their stronghold to avoid alerting them.
In the distance, the figure fell to the ground, letting out a painful scream.
Walking quickly, Arthur directly used the gun stock to hit the man's mouth, and the sharp scream immediately turned into muffled whimpers.
Then he directly grabbed the man's lower back belt and dragged him into the abandoned factory building nearby.
Arthur, returning to his old profession, showed no signs of rust, even after nearly two hundred years.
Grabbing the man by the collar, Arthur yanked him up.
He landed a heavy punch on the man's face, then, still holding him, slammed him against the factory wall behind them.
"Shut up! Don't eat sour radish!
I ask! You answer!
Or I'll help you make a hole in your head."
Watching the man nod frantically, Arthur didn't lower the pistol he had pressed against his temple.
"Tell me, was it you guys who caused trouble in Okada Wakako's territory?"
Perhaps he had lost many teeth, as the man's voice sounded somewhat comical.
"I didn't, don't kill me."
Covering his mouth, Arthur's knee slammed hard into the gunshot wound on the man's leg.
Staring intently into the man's wide eyes, Arthur's hoarse voice spoke again.
"Last chance, I like to hear the truth, and I like good kids."
"Yes, yes, it was us."
"Why!"
"A joytoy found out about something we had, so we had to silence her."
"What was it, who's looking for it, why did you have to silence her?"
"A few days ago, the cyberpsycho who went on a rampage in City Center, we stole his cyberware.
It's a data separation chip for an auxiliary neural implant. Arasaka is willing to pay a high price for it, and those Militech madmen are looking for it."
Interesting, the matter was actually related to the corporations, so the item's value must not be small.
"Your boss's information, send it to me, and you can scram."
After his neural implant received the information, Arthur directly sent him to hell.
He used fire to clean up the scene, not wanting to be targeted by the corporations, and then headed towards the hideout.
It was already past midnight; when Arthur arrived at the stronghold, the only four people left inside were all asleep.
Without any effort, Arthur brought the situation under his control; the so-called "leader" was on the ground, his face covered in blood, with Arthur pressing him down.
"Tell me, where's that damned separation chip?"
Spitting blood, a look of resentment flashed across his face as he stared at Arthur's face.
"Whose man are you? What separation chip? I don't know what you're talking about."
He regarded that chip as his chance to turn his life around, so how could he easily reveal it?
Without saying anything more, Arthur shoved the gun barrel into the gunshot wound on the man's body and twisted it a few times.
"Where's the chip?"
"I don't..."
Arthur tilted the gun and fired another shot, coldly uttering four words.
"Where's the chip?"
"It's in my head, let me go, I'll leave here, please spare my life."
Reaching his hand to the separation chip slot behind the man's head, he indeed felt a chip. Arthur pulled it out and silently sent the man a bullet.
After recording an image with his neural implant, Arthur left a fire there and departed the North City Industrial District.
Most of the factories here were steel structures, so there was no fear of the fire getting out of control; they would only burn what Arthur wanted them to burn.
Without delay, Arthur went straight to Westbrook.
It was late at night, and Jig-Jig Street had lost its evening bustle, becoming desolate and empty.
Arthur was content; he found the pachinko parlor and walked straight in.
There were still a few scattered people in the shop, staring intently at the machines in front of them, their eyes completely bloodshot, a result of fatigue and madness combined.
Accompanied by a jingle, Arthur walked directly into the back and saw a burly young man behind the counter.
"I'm looking for Wakako; I took her job and came to collect the money."
The young man's eyes flickered a few times, apparently communicating with someone, then he said to Arthur.
"Come with me, the boss is inside, she's having breakfast."
Pushing open an inner door, Arthur saw Wakako kneeling behind a low table.
"You only took one day, truly efficient. So, what's the result?"
A kind smile hung on her aged face, truly like an ordinary old woman.
"Killed them all, but I don't know their purpose for killing in your territory.
Anyway, just like the information you gave me, there were five in total, not one escaped."
Yes, Arthur wasn't going to tell Wakako about the separation chip; after all, it involved corporations, and their relationship wasn't at the point of complete trust.
Arthur still remembered what Viktor had said: too much profit would crush the middleman's credibility.
"Oh, here are these two photos for you."
Saying that, Arthur sent the photos of the bodies to her.
"Although you didn't bring me anyone alive, these photos are good. I can give you 2500 euros.
You did well, let's keep in touch in the future.
The more friends you have, the more business you'll get."
As their eyes flickered, Arthur looked at the 2500 credit transfer in front of him and smiled.
"Of course, Madam, generosity always brings friendship."