Arthur froze for a moment after hearing Placid's mocking words. His cigarette burned between his fingers, and the sting of sarcasm rang louder than the gunfire still echoing in the distance.
What's going on? he thought. Is my plan that obvious? Even Placid, Night City's walking brick, can see through it?
No, that didn't line up with Arthur's long-standing impression of Placid. The man was pure muscle—less hacker, more human bulldozer. Maman, the matriarch of the Voodoo Boys, was the brains of the gang. Placid? He followed orders, broke bones, and occasionally barbecued cyberpunks for fun. But now, he was acting unusually sharp. Arthur eyed the smoke-filled street and muttered, "Is that lug trying to take Maman's throne?"
"Lucy," Arthur asked, puzzled, "is my plan really that obvious?"
Lucy nearly choked on her own breath, spinning toward him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Are you serious? He was joking, dumbass! You really can't pick up on sarcasm?"
She ducked as another hail of bullets whizzed past their cover. "If you've got time for stupid questions, maybe try firing back! Those psychos are closing in. And I swear to God, I've never regretted anything more than agreeing to help you. Mann warned me, Dorio reassured me… and now here I am, practically writing my own obituary!"
As she ranted, Lucy reflected bitterly on how this had started with an innocent favor. Dorio had said Arthur was "reliable in his own messed-up way." What a joke. This wasn't girls supporting girls, this was girls dragging each other into the flames. And Lucy was burning.
Meanwhile, Arthur raised his voice and shouted toward Placid. "So, you figured it out, huh? Don't tell me your neurons finally synced up. Or is this you auditioning to replace Maman?"
Placid stood tall in the distance, arms folded across his massive chest. For a brief moment, he appeared shocked. Did Arthur really call the NCPD? That thought alone nearly cracked his stone-cold façade.
But instead of reacting, Placid sighed, turning away with a grunt. "Arthur's body came back from the grave, but his brain must've stayed buried."
He muttered something to his men, then waved them forward. "Kill him. And bring me something to prove it's done. I've got a chicken thawing back home, and I'm not about to miss lunch because of this idiot."
Some of the younger gang members hesitated. Hadn't Placid just vowed to grind Arthur into cyber-dust? One even remembered overhearing something about buying a dog just to feed it Arthur's leftovers. So why was Placid walking away now?
The youngest of the group saw it as a golden opportunity. If I take Arthur down, I'll finally earn some real stripes, he thought, gripping his weapon tighter.
But the moment he moved, the sky tore open.
A low thud-thud-thud rolled across the Pacifica skyline. The earth vibrated beneath them as the roar of rotors split the air. Before anyone could react, bullets rained down from above.
High-caliber rounds chewed through concrete and flesh alike. The overconfident youngster was turned into red mist before he could even aim his gun. What followed was pure chaos—dust, fire, and steel all churning in a storm of violence.
From the sky descended dark-armored figures, their landing gear kicking up debris as they slammed into the ground. MaxTac had arrived—and with the kind of entrance only government overkill could afford.
Lucy ducked instinctively, coughing from the dust cloud now swirling around them.
"What the hell is this?!" she shouted over the chaos.
Arthur, unbothered, lit another cigarette and grinned through the haze. "Well, at least I know my tax eddies aren't going to waste."
As the MaxTac officers began their sweep, Arthur extended his arm and activated his Mantis Blade, the chrome glinting in the fractured sunlight.
From within the dust emerged a figure in a sleek black helmet, stride confident and familiar.
"Melissa," Arthur said with a smirk, the cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. "Didn't I say I'd come find you? You've got to give a guy more time."
Melissa, unmistakable even in her tactical armor, stopped a few feet away. Her visor retracted, revealing a face both sharp and furious.
"You ditched me, Arthur," she snapped. "Went on a date with your little girlfriend, didn't you?"
Arthur took a step back, raising his hands defensively. "It's not what you think—"
"Oh, save it," she growled. "Barely a week back in Night City and you've already found another girl. Guess I'll have to castrate you and chain you to my couch. Don't worry, I make enough to support you."
Arthur's pupils shrank. His instincts kicked in and he shoved Melissa back with his blade, just narrowly avoiding a death hug.
"You're still insane!" he hissed. "Did the resetters do nothing for you? Who the hell authorized you to walk free?!"
Melissa chuckled, retracting her own blades. "Don't be dramatic. You're saying this woman's your girlfriend?" She tilted her chin toward Lucy, who looked on in confusion.
Arthur shook his head. "Chief network consultant. Nothing more. We're scouting factory locations. I'm going corporate—cyberpunk no more."
Melissa arched a brow. "You? A suit?"
Arthur flashed a half-smile. "Call me CEO Scott now. Got a building, a budget, and a billion-dollar plan to revolutionize the market."
"That plan involve dying before your launch?" Melissa asked, unimpressed.
"Not if you keep saving me," Arthur quipped. "Come on, give me some credit."
While the two bickered like ex-lovers at a family dinner, Lucy was locked on the chaos unfolding in front of her.
MaxTac moved like a storm, each member a blur of tactical mastery. Guns shifted seamlessly to blades, and the kill count rose with every strike. Blood slicked the pavement, and the screams of Voodoo Boys were swallowed by the buzz of smart rifles and cyber-enhanced howls.
One officer leapt onto a shipping crate, decapitated two enemies mid-air, and landed with a bone-crushing thud.
Lucy's stomach churned. She had seen death. She had hacked into people's memories, lived through torture in braindances. But this... this was slaughter.
Arthur followed her gaze, then turned back to Melissa. "You know, your team's a little tense. Might want to buy them a round at the Ritz. Boss Susie still banning goons?"
"She's not into muscleheads," Melissa replied. "But maybe you can sweet-talk her for us. You're good at that."
Arthur scoffed. "Says the woman who just threatened to neuter me."
Melissa looked away, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Yeah, well. I don't make idle threats."
Arthur glanced up at the sky, the rotors still humming like angry wasps. Reinforcements continued to pour in, and within minutes, the battlefield was reduced to nothing more than twitching bodies and shattered pride.
MaxTac had done what they did best—end threats with absolute finality.
Lighting one last cigarette, Arthur looked at the smoking horizon and thought aloud, "You know, if I survive this long enough, I might just run for mayor."
Melissa snorted.
Lucy groaned.
Night City, ever unpredictable, just kept burning.
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