"Hey, sailor, you don't sound too impressed with the work I offer. What are you—some kind of blind fool?"
Arthur barely had time to react before his phone buzzed again. He was driving across the viaduct, a cigarette dangling from his lips, having just left Maine's base. The Old Captain's name flashed on the screen.
"Still surrounded by skeptics, huh?" the Captain said with a chuckle. "I figured as much. Nobody here remembers your glory days. You're an old cyberpunk relic, a chrome-coated antique. If it were up to some of them, you'd already be mounted in a museum."
Arthur grinned. "Can't blame 'em. Nobody trusts an old-timer until he saves their ass."
"True," Reyes laughed. "Still, things are different now. Listen, I don't have anything for you personally. But someone else might. A 'righteous' sort. I passed along your number. You'll be hearing from her."
"Let me guess," Arthur replied, "you're talking about Queen Rogge?"
"Queen? She'd punt your chrome ass across the city if she heard that," Reyes snorted. "Don't let her hear you calling her 'Aunt.' She already hates being called ma'am."
"I'm doing her a favor, calling her Aunt. With how long she's been around, 'Grandma' would be more accurate."
Reyes laughed hard. "You better pray she doesn't hear that."
The call ended, and Arthur barely had time to scratch his chin before his phone rang again.
Incoming Call: Regina Jones
Well, that didn't take long.
Arthur answered. "This Regina? I assume you're the righteous partner Reyes mentioned."
"You assume right," a confident female voice replied. "Regina Jones. Fixer, Watson District. I hear you're looking for work."
Arthur smiled. "Sure am. Though I should warn you, I'm a bit...vintage."
"Sometimes, vintage is just another word for 'reliable.'"
Arthur blinked. Someone was actually being nice to him?
"Lady, if you were in the car with me right now, I'd give you a hug," Arthur replied. "But let's get down to business. You got work, I've got bills. I just blew up a Sixth Street car and now I owe a man with glowing red eyes a new ride."
Regina chuckled. "Sounds like you fit right in."
Arthur didn't laugh. He looked out the windshield at the decaying skyline. "Starting over ain't cheap in Night City. I thought about moving to Taipingzhou, but—"
"No you didn't," Regina cut in.
Arthur grinned. "Okay, you caught me. I like breathing air that doesn't come with religious zealots and post-human cults. So what do you have for me?"
There was a pause.
"Cyberpsychosis," Regina finally said. "You know the term?"
Arthur snorted. "Know it? Hell, I studied it the hard way."
"...On yourself?"
"Long story," Arthur said, tapping the dash like a drum set. "Let's just say I was my own test subject for a while."
Regina hesitated, then let out a short laugh. "Arthur, you're something else. Most mercs I talk to can barely spell 'neural stabilizer.'"
Arthur smirked. "That's what makes me marketable."
"Well, then this job's for you. Someone spotted a homeless man wandering around the North District of Watson. Looked like he'd just walked out of an electrocution chamber. Locals thought it was an OD—maybe Shining or Glitchdust. But then he snapped and put a guy's skull through a vending machine."
Arthur's expression darkened.
"Could be a cyberpsycho episode. Maybe someone playing corpo guinea pig who slipped the leash. Regardless, I want him brought in. Alive."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Alive? You trust me that much already?"
"No," Regina said. "I just don't trust NCPD not to put ten rounds in his chest the second they see him."
Arthur sighed. "Alright. I'll try not to ventilate the poor bastard."
He hung up and floored the gas pedal, heading toward Watson North.
---
Watson North.
Once a shining symbol of Night City's promise—now a decaying scar.
The district used to house nightclubs, gleaming corporate towers, and medical centers that boasted success rates higher than Arasaka's war crimes. But after the economic collapse, everything fell apart.
Now, Watson North was a graveyard of industry and ambition. Empty factories. Cracked roads. Dead tech blinking behind shattered glass.
Arthur lit another cigarette as he crossed into the district, smog swirling through the air like a ghost.
"Even Taipingzhou's cults have more ambition than this place," he muttered.
He parked the car near a fence lined with razor wire. The air smelled of burning plastic and oil. Somewhere nearby, a mechanical arm dangled from a pile of junk like a corpse on a hook.
Arthur stepped out, scanning the streets.
The place was silent—too silent.
He moved cautiously, every sense tuned for sudden movement. His Sandevistan implant buzzed faintly beneath his skin, warmed up and waiting.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Let's find ourselves a mad dog."
---
Back at Regina's office…
She leaned back in her chair, sipping lukewarm coffee as she monitored Arthur's location on a small screen.
"Either you're going to crash and burn spectacularly," she muttered, "or you're going to make me regret not hiring you years ago."
Her assistant raised an eyebrow. "This guy... you sure about him?"
Regina smiled faintly. "I've got a good feeling. That, and Reyes swears by him. And Reyes doesn't swear by anyone."
---
Arthur's boots crunched across broken pavement.
A shout rang out nearby—guttural, broken, inhuman.
Arthur turned sharply, drawing his pistol.
A figure staggered into view—cloaked in rags, metal sticking out from beneath the skin like bones misaligned. His eyes glowed faintly red. He was mumbling to himself, twitching like a broken animatronic.
Arthur crouched, keeping his distance.
"Easy," he called out. "No sudden moves."
The man didn't respond. Just turned his head...and screamed.
With a mechanical roar, he charged.
Arthur swore and ducked as the man slammed into a wall, missing by inches. Concrete cracked.
"Yup," Arthur said, rolling to the side and drawing a flash-suppressor from his coat. "Definitely cyberpsycho."
The fight was on.
---
To be continued in Chapter 13…
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