Cyberpunk Patriarch

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"Arthur, you're the number one troublemaker in Night City… Remember this: if you stir up more chaos next time, I'm taking the hood off my head!"

Maman hung up the phone in frustration, but despite her tone, she had agreed to Arthur's proposal. In the grand scheme of things, the conflict wasn't that serious—blowing up a server over a decade ago hardly warranted this level of drama.

In Night City, you had to learn when to compromise. Maman wasn't eager to have the NCPD sweeping her operations every day, especially since she had no clue just how deep Arthur's relationship with Melissa, the madwoman from the Terrorist Mobile Team, went.

After all, women in love were prone to doing irrational, dangerous things. That much she understood.

Arthur, meanwhile, smoked in silence, reflecting on the absurdity of it all. If he was the city's troublemaker, then what did that make Maman? When had people in Night City started to lower their standards for chaos and profanity? Was this progress?

Night City evolves in the strangest ways, Arthur mused.

"Is everything settled?"

Lucy's voice cut through his thoughts. She leaned elegantly against the wall, a slim cigarette in hand, her expression unusually calm.

Arthur nodded, taking another look around the factory. The place was still a mess. He sighed. "The Voodoo Gang is dealt with. But this factory? It still needs a lot of work. I'll have to negotiate with those meatheads from the Animal Gang later. Can't get any equipment without talking to them."

"It's not easy starting a business," Arthur continued, chuckling bitterly. "All you make at the start is hard-earned money."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Hard-earned? Sure. But once you start selling those chips, it won't be hard-earned anymore. Dirty money flows easily in Night City."

Arthur ignored her jab, his smirk growing. Lucy, however, was done with the day's events.

"Now that this mess is handled, I'm leaving. As for your 'program,' find someone else. If I work with you again, I'll eat my words and become a dog."

She had reached her limit. This day had been more chaotic than any other in her life—encounters with the Voodoo Gang, the Terrorist Mobile Team, and now a potential meeting with the Animal Gang.

Arthur himself didn't help matters. The man was unpredictable, a magnet for insanity. Lucy didn't know what kind of person would willingly work with him long-term, but she was certain of one thing: Arthur belonged in a mental institution.

A gust of wind blew through the open doorway, ruffling Lucy's hair. Arthur's sharp eyes immediately caught the brain-computer interface embedded at the back of her head. A sly grin spread across his face.

"Lucy," Arthur began, his tone low and deliberate, "you wouldn't want Arasaka to find out you've been hiding in Night City, would you?"

Lucy froze. Her expression darkened, and in an instant, a single-molecule wire shot out from her wrist. She dropped into a defensive stance, glaring at him.

"How do you know about that?!" she demanded, her voice edged with panic.

Lucy thought she had hidden her past well. Her fear of yellow Arasaka uniforms could be explained by countless reasons—plenty of people in Night City shared that fear. And she had barely interacted with Arthur, meeting him only twice.

Even her former teammates from Maman's crew hadn't pieced together her history. Yet somehow, Arthur had.

Arthur remained calm, lighting another cigarette. "That brain-computer interface of yours? It's Arasaka tech. Only their internal personnel use it. Specifically, models like yours are for their 'graphics card girls.'"

Lucy's eyes widened. "Graphics card girls?" she echoed, unfamiliar with the term.

Arthur smirked. "A nickname for people like you—human data processors. You used to work for Arasaka, didn't you? Boiling brains for data?"

Lucy clenched her fists, her mind racing. Arthur's deduction was scarily accurate, but she didn't lower her guard. "How do you recognize that tech?"

Arthur shrugged, unfazed. "You don't think just anyone can research cyberpsychosis, do you? I've been a cyberpunk for years, dissecting bodies and studying mods. Becoming a mechanical expert was a natural progression."

His casual tone made Lucy's stomach churn. The words "dissecting bodies" and "mechanical expert" shouldn't belong in the same sentence, but in Night City, the line between flesh and machine blurred often enough to make it plausible.

Even so, Lucy kept her weapon ready, still wary of his intentions.

Arthur watched her silently, waiting for her to speak. Lucy's mind worked furiously, weighing her options. Arthur had a point—he could easily report her to Arasaka, and they wouldn't hesitate to act on the information. But why would he threaten her? What did he want?

After what felt like an eternity, Lucy finally withdrew her weapon.

"Sooner or later," she muttered, "I'm going to kill you. Now tell me what you want."

Arthur stroked his chin, pretending to think. His eyes roamed the factory ceiling before settling on Lucy, scrutinizing her.

Her face flushed under his gaze, and she stepped forward as if she'd made up her mind.

But before anything could happen, Arthur's lips curled into a mischievous grin.

"I recall someone saying they'd become a dog if they worked with me again. What was that about? How does a puppy bark again? It's been so long since dogs existed in Night City—I might've forgotten."

Lucy blinked, her face going blank. You're joking, she thought. I'm standing here, ready to commit, and you want me to bark like a dog?

Her hands trembled, but she managed to light a cigarette with a stoic expression. Taking a long drag, she exhaled slowly.

"Woof, woof, woof," she said flatly, her tone devoid of emotion.

Arthur clicked his tongue in disappointment. "No enthusiasm? That's it? You're ruining the experience for me."

Lucy glared at him, biting back her anger. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Arthur. Did I fail to satisfy your twisted sense of humor?"

Arthur grinned. "See? That's what I mean. A little effort wouldn't hurt."

Lucy took another drag from her cigarette, her patience wearing thin. "And what about you? Threatening a young girl to get your way—doesn't that make you the real bad guy here, Lord Arthur?"

Arthur smirked, unfazed. "In Night City, being bad is the only way to survive."

The tension lingered for a moment before Lucy finally sighed, shaking her head. She realized she wouldn't win against him—not today, at least.

Arthur chuckled to himself as Lucy walked away, muttering curses under her breath. The day's events had been chaotic, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

In a city where everyone had skeletons in their closets, survival meant finding leverage—and Arthur was a master of the game.

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