His expression might have darkened, but it was hidden behind an unreadable face. “You don’t look like you ca in peace... Don’t forget, you killed our brother.”
“We’re here to talk, that’s all...” V stepped forward, draping an arm over Arthur’s shoulder as she addressed the man.
“I figured... If you’d tried sneaking in, you’d already be dead.” Placide tossed the words coldly before turning deeper inside. “Follow ! If it’s talking you want, then let’s talk...”
They walked a short distance, turned a corner, and entered what looked like an office. Finally, Placide, seated behind a desk, spoke.. “We’ll talk here.”
“We’re looking for Maman Brigitte... I hear she’s your boss.” V leaned on the desk, staring hard at the big man.
“You want to see our boss?” Placide shook his head and began working the terminal in front of him. He clearly wasn’t fond of words.
After so ti, he finally looked up. “You can’t see her. But... if you help us, if you prove you’re friends of ours... maybe.”
...
Arthur’s gaze drifted around the room, his right shoulder sinking ever so slightly.
Plenty of people here, but none with guns aid at them... So where exactly did this guy get his confidence?
“I’ll say it again—we’re here to talk.” V refused to take the bait. Help the Voodoo Boys with their dirty work? Ridiculous. She wasn’t so pushover.
“Exactly! Help us first, then we’ll talk!” Placide didn’t flinch, glaring coldly at V. “Your friends killed our brothers... That’s how it is!”
Sensing no imdiate danger, Arthur stepped forward slowly, drawing the revolver from his waist.
“Listen up... we’re here to talk. Just talk.” He slamd the gun down on the desk, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. “We’re not doing any goddamn favors. Got it?”
Placide didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Arthur, icy and unblinking.
...
Arthur gave a small nod, picked the gun back up, and leveled it at him. So people always assud he wouldn’t pull the trigger...
But in Placide’s trembling eyes, he could see the twitch of muscles in Arthur’s finger as it pressed the trigger. He really was about to—
And just before the gunshot rang out, a woman’s voice cut through the tension.
“Stop! Let’s talk!”
Behind the transparent glass door at the far end, a short-haired woman shouted.
Arthur spun the revolver around his fingers and slid it back into the holster.
“You really were about to kill .” Even Placide’s stoic voice carried a slight tremor.
“Maybe you’d just get a headache... not even as bad as last ti.” Arthur was already walking toward the woman. “That was just a toy gun.”
Who could say? The revolver had never actually fired.
“Let guess... you found us because of that chip?” The woman wasn’t tall, her voice unremarkable—yet this ordinary-looking figure had burned through more minds than anyone could count.
Plenty of people in Night City feared her.
The mont she ntioned the chip, Johnny appeared in V’s vision. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. A projection—useless in action, but as present as ever.
“Your old fla’s got so guts. At least he’s not a coward who pisses himself at the sight of a big arm,” Johnny sneered, smirk firmly in place.
“Shut up... Every ti I see you, I think of dog shit. Never seen the real thing up close, but I’m guessing it looks a lot like you.” V’s thoughts shot straight through to him. Johnny answered with nothing more than a middle finger from his silver hand.
“Looks like you do keep up with the news...” V said with a cold smile.
“In the underground, your crew’s made quite the na for yourselves. You stord Arasaka’s turf and didn’t leave a single body behind.” Maman Brigitte’s gaze swept over the four before she asked, “So how exactly did you find this place...?”
V didn’t ntion Evelyn. Instead, she pinned it on the already-rotten Deshawn. “Fat bastard couldn’t keep his mouth shut, huh? Doesn’t matter. Finally eting you is rare enough—I’d rather not waste ti.
Let’s talk business! Since you want what’s in my head, you must know sothing about it. So tell —how do I get this damn chip out without turning my brain into paste?”
“Co to our vault. We’ve got the equipnt to deal with your problem...” Maman Brigitte didn’t bother asking how the secret got out, only continued smoothly. “We don’t know your full condition yet. That’s not sothing a few words can explain. First, we run tests. Get the data...”
It was obvious they wanted the chip in V’s head too. At least being upfront about it now put the crew a little more at ease.
The vault was far below. They descended for a long ti before arriving at a hall styled like a church. Dim lighting illuminated only the crosses on the walls, though these crosses didn’t bring much comfort.
Through a heavy double door, they went down again, until they reached a cavern-like space.
The rock walls were littered with broken ruins—clearly part of so abandoned underground facility.
Fluorescent graffiti faintly lit the path ahead, leading them to their destination.
Several netrunner pods stood inside. The sleek, advanced tech looked out of place against the jagged stone walls, but that hardly mattered.
“Let’s begin. We need to enter Cyberspace first—most of the work can only be done there.” Maman Brigitte kept working the equipnt as she spoke to V.
“What? That place? Getting in’s easy, but getting out isn’t the sa. You screwing with ?” V’s tone carried a sharp edge. She knew the Net—and she knew Cyberspace.
“If the tech isn’t good enough, of course there’ll be problems. But if it isn’t good enough, we can’t save your life either.” Brigitte kept her eyes on the console. “Relax. We’ll all be going in together.”
...
“Oh, by the way—why drag Johnny Silverhand into this? A foul-mouthed terrorist?” V asked, puzzled.
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