“Alright, Arthur... cut the banter.
Let’s go get you so new clothes.”
Fighting off drowsiness, V pushed herself upright and stretched with a loud crack.
“I’ve got a shop I go to a lot. Shady, sure—but in Night City, what shop isn’t?”
Already gathering her things with her usual decisive energy, she barely glanced back.
Arthur rose reluctantly, patting the seat he’d just ward.
“Fine. Looks like I’m Cinderella again.
Paraded around like a circus act for the bigwigs.”
By then, V had slipped on her shoes and replied without turning.
“Relax. Those big shots won’t even notice us.
Which is good news—ans all the food and drinks are top-shelf.”
The silver-white Thug GTS tore down the street, a streak of light. In no ti, they reached their destination:
Municipal Center, left of Corporate Plaza, Haresi Street.
The district had every kind of store, but surprisingly few shoppers. The spotless, towering storefronts radiated an air of superiority.
Pulling up to one such shop, V swung the door open with a flourish.
“Out, Arthur.
Jinguji. The manager here is a real character. You’ll see when you et him.”
“O-kay...”
Squeezing out of the cramped seat, Arthur followed.
“Guess it’s ti to strap on the bit.”
Beyond the spotless glass doors, the marble floor glead under the lights.
The “shop” felt strangely empty—no custors, no shelves.
Only recessed wall displays held a few mannequins clad in refined outfits.
“Well, well. Look who’s here—my most beautiful custor. Welco to this oasis of elegance.
Miss, you’re as radiant as a night-blooming flower.”
The voice was slightly high-pitched, drifting from behind the counter.
Arthur turned to see a Black man in a fitted dark suit, neat round glasses perched on his face, smiling warmly at V as she stepped forward.
“This place looks empty. Business slow lately?”
V asked with an easy smile.
“Ma’am, you’re a regular. You know how we work.
We focus on quality... not quantity.”
Up close, Arthur noted the man’s rugged features paired with an androgynous voice. Odd, but far less unsettling than the painted faces at Clouds.
“And what can I do for you today?”
Without hesitation, V pulled Arthur forward and pointed at him.
“I need him dressed for a ball.”
Under the manager’s appraising gaze, Arthur shifted uncomfortably, rolling his shoulders before giving a slight nod.
“Oh! No surprise that the gentleman at your side is extraordinary as well.
Look at that handso face—like an ancient sculpture stepped down from its pedestal.”
The complints poured out freely as the manager moved past V to stand before Arthur.
“Sir, may I take your asurents? It’ll help us pick the perfect attire.”
Arthur froze, glancing at V for reassurance. She only smiled back.
Taking a half-step back, Arthur tugged at the hem of his worn coat and shrugged.
“Alright... fine...
Uh... I an, what do I do?”
The manager showed no hesitation. He placed his hands on Arthur’s upper arms, straightening his slouched shoulders.
Arthur towered over him, but the man carried himself with absolute confidence.
From his waist, he produced a cloth tape asure.
“Now, let’s get your key asurents.
Trust —you’ll leave here radiating charm.”
He wrapped the tape around Arthur’s waist.
“Damn it, can’t you just scan ?”
Arthur’s forearms tensed, his embarrassnt edging toward anger.
The man, oblivious, patted his shoulder.
“Relax, handso.
The old thods add ritual. The little imperfections in tape asurents make the fit more natural and elegant.
Oh! How about so Art Deco sequins? They’d really make you shine.”
Even while working, his mouth never stopped, slipping in a sales pitch.
“Goddamn...
NO!”
“Alright, alright—I can see you prefer vintage.
Good news—I know my way around that style too.”
After so fussing, the manager finally finished and hurried through a door at the back.
He tossed instructions to the two security guards as he left.
“Keep an eye on things. I want this floor intact when I get back.”
Arthur rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms, scowling at V.
“This is your ‘great place’? So pompous windbag who won’t shut up.
Don’t tell you actually enjoy hearing that flattery.”
V had already sunk into one of the sofas along the wall, waving him over, laughter tugging at her lips.
“Trust —Zane’s craftsmanship is second to none.
And... you looked a little tense just now.”
Her grin widened, her tone playful.
“A loudmouth with a rough face? Disgusting! Damn it... anyone would’ve felt the sa.”
Arthur snapped back, confident in his logic.
V leaned close to his ear, voice sly.
“Funny thing is... guys like you are a big hit in that crowd.
A blond hunk—young and handso, but with that touch of world-weariness.”
Arthur shuddered, cold running down his spine. He scooted away from her on the seat.
V burst into laughter.
“Looks like even our tough guy has sothing to fear.”
“If that creep isn’t afraid of bullets...”
Arthur rasped back.
The matter dropped there, though V kept studying his face with a thoughtful look.
“What now?”
Arthur frowned at her.
“Maybe... a new look.
Co on, Cinderella—ti for a barber. At the very least, shave that stubble.”
The barber shop was close by, and soon they erged again.
With the ssy stubble gone, Arthur’s face looked almost boyish.
“Now just the clothes, and we’re ready. The ball’s starting soon.”
V said eagerly, glancing back at Arthur with a smirk.
“See? Zane wasn’t wrong. Cleaned up, you’re actually presentable.”
“I’ve lost my damn mind.”
Arthur rubbed his bare face.
“Can’t believe I listened to you, V. Now I’m stuck going to so stupid ball.”
“Guess you’ve never been to one, huh? Never in your life?”
V slowed to walk beside him, curiosity in her voice.
“Been to plenty. They treated us like country bumpkins, and to us—they were just fat, easy targets.”
Arthur snapped his fingers.
“Ha! Gather intel, then hit ’em hard.
They built fortunes with their sches, and we just helped lighten the load.”
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