After taking on a few more tasks, both big and small, Arthur's finances became quite comfortable.
He had been active in the North City Industrial District recently, searching for his original body's father, but when he followed his memories back to that damned home, it appeared abandoned.
The original body's mental state had already developed serious problems; he was a recluse who shut himself in a small dark room, his mind completely cut off from the outside world.
Therefore, the effective clues in the memories Arthur inherited were truly limited.
He wasn't looking for the other party out of hatred, but the unknown drug in his body was always a hidden danger, so he had to try and find some clues.
Fortunately, more than half a month had passed, and Arthur's body had even been developing in a positive direction.
Arthur was currently sitting at the table in his single apartment; in front of him, half a cigar rested horizontally on a glass of colorless liquor, with thin smoke curling upwards.
Although the food of this era was still hard to swallow, the progress in liquor and tobacco was truly significant.
Just as he was quietly enjoying his moment of relaxation, a 'ding... ding...' sound came from his mind.
Someone else was calling; it was Viktor.
"Viktor, what's up?"
"I have a job for you here; a young man needs help, so just come over."
"A young man you're familiar with? Now I'm quite interested."
"Haha, just come; I don't have many friends as an old man, and it'll be good for you two to get to know each other."
Ending the call, Arthur downed the whiskey in the glass, put on a coat, and donned a gambler's hat, then headed towards Viktor's clinic.
It was getting dark, but it was Night City's time to awaken; in the distance, several light pillars piercing the clouds shone with the light of civilization, projections only large corporations had.
Watson naturally didn't have the spectacular scenery of the prosperous south, but the streets here were not dark at all; shadowy figures and noisy voices blended into a blur.
Viktor's clinic, where the lighting didn't distinguish between day and night.
As soon as he entered, Arthur saw Viktor's back; he was sitting by the operating chair, facing away from the door.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, Viktor turned his head and looked towards the entrance.
Catching sight of Arthur, Viktor smiled and walked towards him.
"That outfit of yours isn't bad, like an old cowboy, but that's assuming I ignore your youthful face."
Arthur noticed a big guy sitting on Viktor's operating chair; he even looked a bit cramped sitting there.
"It seems this is your new friend."
Near the big guy's shoulder, several mechanical arms were moving, indicating he was injured there.
"Jackie Welles, a big guy from Heywood. I met him at the boxing gym."
Viktor introduced him, then told the big guy about Arthur's situation.
"This guy is Arthur Morgan, an unlucky fellow who escaped from the Scavengers."
Jackie had small eyes, at least on his large face. After hearing Viktor's introduction, he turned his gaze to Arthur.
"Hola, hello, brother. Don't mind me lying here looking a bit disheveled, but I'm a good hand."
Arthur also carefully observed the strong man; his face was round and flat, appearing simple and kind.
He had a circular patch of hair shaved on his forehead, and a small braid, like a bun, on the back of his head; though strange, it wasn't unappealing.
"Hey, Jackie, right? Viktor said you had a bit of a problem here and needed someone to lend a hand."
Jackie's other arm was perfectly fine. He pointed to his injured shoulder and said with a wry smile, "Ah, I got set up, got a bit injured here. I just mentioned it to Viktor, asking him to find a trustworthy brother for me."
This guy's voice matched his appearance perfectly, deep and booming.
"What kind of job? I'm always free to take on a gig."
Arthur leaned against the wall, asking curiously.
"It's definitely a big job, with a reward of over 300,000, which we'll split evenly."
The other party's words made Arthur frown. Over 300,000 was no small sum, and he couldn't help but suspect the risk of being scammed.
He didn't question it directly but turned to look at Viktor.
Their eyes met, and Viktor smiled as he walked over to him, patting his shoulder.
"I don't know about the job; that's between you two. But you're both my friends, and tonight you have to join me for a good meal, and you two can get to know each other."
Although Viktor didn't explicitly state it, Arthur understood his meaning—
Jackie could be trusted. As for whether the big guy himself had been scammed, he didn't know.
The constantly operating mechanical arm stopped, and Jackie directly sprang from the operating chair, which seemed cramped for him.
He instinctively tried to lift his injured shoulder, then immediately gasped and relaxed it, likely due to pain.
"Duele, it hurts so much. Viktor, you said it would get better quickly."
Seeing Jackie's playful demeanor, Viktor also smiled.
"Getting better quickly doesn't mean immediately. Let's go, we'll find a good place to gather."
Watson had many small eateries, and Viktor, being an old-timer there, quickly found a good spot.
"Let's talk while we eat; you two can also discuss business. That's how it is with brothers; after a couple of drinks, everything gets laid out."
Viktor led the way in, finding a secluded spot.
The three of them took their seats one after another.
The food, to be honest, tasted like synthetic meat plastic, but with alcohol at hand, what couldn't be swallowed?
The two then started talking about
"Heywood, my hometown. The job was given by the priest there.
Although that old man uses tough methods, he's absolutely fair to his own people, clearly laying out where the dangers are."
The priest, Viktor had given him the contact information, but Arthur had never contacted that middleman.
"I'm curious, who is so generous that 300,000 is still left when it gets to us?"
Arthur swallowed the food in his mouth and asked.
"It's related to corporations, you know. Those big shots in corporations, they're always messing around, one squeezing the other, and then the other squeezing back another day.
So they keep a lot of private dogs under their command."
"What, are some corporate dogs fighting each other?"
Arthur asked.
Seeing Arthur engage, Jackie clearly became happier and eagerly continued, "Yes, they say the Tyger Claws, under Arasaka, stole something from Biotechnica and are secretly sending it to Arasaka.
The current situation is that Biotechnica's people found out and want their stuff back.
But they have no evidence, so they went to the Tyger Claws' arch-rivals, which is the priest."
"So, Biotechnica is willing to pay 300,000 to hire you two to clash with Arasaka? That's spending little to accomplish big things."
Viktor also interjected.
"No such thing. We only need to deal with the Tyger Claws' grunts. Arasaka wouldn't dare to openly get involved, after all, Biotechnica isn't to be trifled with either."
Jackie looked up, directly chugged a glass, and added, "When? I'll get in on this too, and pay back the money I owe Viktor sooner."
Hearing Arthur's words, Viktor smiled and punched him on the shoulder.
"Don't push things onto me. You all better live well; you don't have to pay me back.
Here, not even Arasaka can replace a friend of mine."
These words applied to any of them; friendship was priceless!
Clinking their glasses, the three looked at each other and all laughed.
"To brothers, (friendship), (friends)."
Their words were uneven, but their actions were surprisingly consistent.
Wiping his mouth, Jackie's hand slammed hard on Arthur's shoulder.
"Brother, Tienes apetito por mí (You're to my liking), we'll set off tomorrow and get our 300,000 back."
Arthur also found Jackie agreeable and smiled, patting the other man.
"No problem. You're such a big guy, we'll see how skilled you are then.
Also, what's that gibberish you occasionally spout? I'm completely lost."
The smile on Jackie's big face never faded, and the flush from the alcohol even made him look a bit cute.
"It's my native tongue, Spanish.
Don't blame me, sometimes if I don't throw in a couple of phrases, I can't even speak properly."