Sitting on the sofa, Arthur paused, then nodded.
“What’s going on? Where are we headed?”
He rubbed his eyes. Damn it, felt like sothing was stuck in them.
“I found a standalone apartnt building. It’s still in Westbrook... but the location isn’t great. At least the price is within our budget.
We can use it as a base for maintaining our gear. More importantly, we can redesign the building’s network infrastructure, cutting it off from Night City’s public grid...
That’ll make a big difference—like a buffer. At the very least, it’ll keep those Voodoo Boys rats from crawling into our systems.”
Seeing Arthur listening intently, V went into more detail.
Arthur understood well enough. In short, it was about finding a quiet spot to set up camp—sothing he was more than familiar with.
“Alright, let’s hear it. What’s your plan?”
V asked. She had already asked around the crew.
Arthur shook his head to show he had no objections, then asked, “So who’s in?”
“Everyone still active. I talked to them all—they’re planning to settle in there too.
Oh, and you don’t have to give up your apartnt here. The new place is just an ops base. It’s not like we’re clocking in for a nine-to-five.
You could keep your high-rise. With the right precautions, it doubles as your private hideout.”
After V’s explanation, Arthur got the full picture. He pushed himself up from the sofa, his joints cracking loudly as he stood.
“Alright then, let’s go check out this new doghouse...
But first, food.”
...
Opening the door, the skyscraper was buzzing as always, packed with people like ants hauling food.
Less than half an hour later...
Arthur tossed his empty takeout box—made of so unknown material—into the trash and stood up from his tall stool. Across from him, V was still finishing her al.
She wiped her mouth with the palm of her hand, tossed her chopsticks into the box, and got up from her seat.
“Let’s move!
Once we get used to the new place... we can start working.”
The two headed across the street. Ever since they bought their new rides, the crew no longer had to figure out how to cram everyone into that old clunker.
Arthur’s Quadra was parked across the street.
It was called the Avenger... cheaper than V’s Outlaw, probably because it had fewer seats.
V hopped in with him while Arthur, already at ease with the car, slid into the driver’s seat like it was second nature.
“Now that’s sothing... You look way too comfortable. Been taking it out for joyrides these past few days?” V smirked, pulling a pair of sunglasses from her jacket pocket. But the mont she opened her eyes, she just laughed, shook her head, and shoved them back in.
Apparently, she only wore them while driving.
“I’ll give it this—it’s better than the junk we pulled from the scrapyard... though it’d be nice if it could carry more people.” Arthur tipped his hat and started the engine.
The Quadra’s engine coughed with a rough growl. After a burst of heavy vibrations, it settled into a steady hum.
Then, with a deep, rumbling roar, the car shot forward.
“Woohoo!
So, Arthur, you’ve been roaming Night City lately... find any gigs worth our ti? Preferably low effort, high reward?”
V leaned back in her seat, asking casually.
“There’s always Arasaka Bank, sitting right in Westbrook. And Militech’s New United States National Bank is across the street. We could ‘withdraw’ a little savings.
All it’d take is getting past a dozen ch turrets, mowing down a hundred security guards... and then we could rest in peace.”
Arthur grumbled before explaining the real reason for his bad mood.
“No matter the job, in Night City it always goes through a fixer! All the intel gets blocked by those bastards, so we’re stuck listening to corpo gossip... like who paid how much to keep their ass in shape.
Damn it, I should’ve shoved that drunk bastard’s head up his own ass.”
Clearly, he’d had a rough run-in recently. Though Arthur himself was a notorious drunk, no one in their right mind would ss with a raving one.
“Let guess... you got scamd. And it was at least five hundred eddies.” V grinned knowingly.
Arthur’s stubble twitched as he growled, “Not that much. Trust —only two hundred. And I’ll get it back, one way or another... maybe with his nose.”
V turned her gaze away, her lips already curling into a smile.
Shaking her head, she added, “If you tell the truth, how about I cover your tab tonight?”
“Alright, fine... it was nine hundred. That rotten old bastard...
...
Don’t forget my drinks.”
...
Under V’s directions, the Quadra cruised into Westbrook, heading south until they reached the foot of North Oak Hill, just a few steps from Santo Domingo.
There, tucked into the base of the hill, was a large compound—like a bird’s nest hidden beneath the slope.
Not that it looked like a nest, but the paint on the old buildings had withered to a dull yellow, like dried branches.
The periter fence was rusty wrought iron.
Through the gaps, a short figure could be seen tinkering with a massive gun. As she worked, the two thick braids on her back bounced with each movent.
“Click!”
The sharp sound made her freeze. Tugging her hair in frustration, she muttered under her breath.
“Dumbass, how many bullets did you load? That’s not nearly enough...
Huh?”
She finally noticed Arthur and V approaching, whipping her head around with a glare.
“Shit! Don’t you know this is our turf? You want a few pounds of lead?”
When Rebecca blew her top, her mouth never bothered with a filter.
“Hey—you two...
How about we build a shooting range?”
And just like that, her train of thought swerved wildly.
“Maybe... you’re not cut out for automatics?” V muttered, twitching her lips as she pressed a hand down on Rebecca’s head.
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