Arthur said his goodbyes to the security captain, whose shocked expression had been evident, and drove off, leaving Westbrook behind. Just as he was about to find a quiet corner to park the car, his phone buzzed. It was a ssage from the old captain.
Arthur glanced at it, realizing the worker representative the old captain had arranged was ready to et him. They'd agreed to et at the Wild Wolf Bar in the Heywood area.
Arthur looked over at Jack. "The worker representative wants to et now. Looks like there's no rice at his place. Are you heading ho, or do you want to drop you off at Lao Wei's place to pick up the motorcycle?"
Jack scratched the back of his head, looking a bit lost. "I think I'll head ho. I need so ti to process everything. Today's been... more than I've experienced before. I need to rethink things."
Jack paused, then shot a serious look at Arthur. "If you dare tell anyone what happened today, I swear I'll... die in front of you."
Arthur gave him a warm smile. "Jack, you're too honest. If there's no evidence, you just deny it. Lying is a basic skill for cyberpunks."
Jack gave Arthur a long stare but said nothing. After a mont, he looked out the window, clearly choosing not to discuss it further.
Arthur chuckled inwardly. He knew full well that his system had captured all the images from today. This was one of those mories you keep, maybe for fun later in life.
"Anyway," Arthur continued, "I need to bring a little sothing for Mrs. Wells. Maybe that'll get a pass to the Wild Wolf Bar. You know, as a mother, she'll be concerned about her child's ntal state. At least, that's how it works for ."
Arthur pressed the accelerator, and the car began to drive away from the remote, cara-free road, heading toward the Heywood area.
Heywood: A Tale of Two Cities
Heywood is an interesting area—close enough to the city center to feel connected but far enough to have its own unique vibe. It houses Concord Park, a large park built to commorate the company that helped reconstruct Night City.
But while the park shines with pride, so locals say the radiation buried beneath the surface of Heywood speaks to the tensions in the area. The difference between the northern and eastern parts of Heywood couldn't be more stark.
To the north lies a clean, modern neighborhood with towering skyscrapers, manicured parks, and public services that aren't obscured by the stench of holess vomit. This area feels like the Night City so people dream of.
But go east, and you'll encounter a different reality. The buildings are low-rise, suburban-style hos, and the area is far poorer and more dangerous. This is where the Valentino Gang rules. And it's also where Arthur's old friends—the Sixth Street Gang—co from.
Despite its contrast, Heywood is still considered the most livable area in Night City. It's better than Watson District or Pacific Island, at least in the northern parts. The price of rent here is high compared to other districts, but it's worth the effort.
As Arthur drove through Heywood, he observed the distinct Latino presence in the area. It wasn't hard to spot a gang mber—just check if their car had been modded to resemble a palace or if they had tattoos on their arms. Still, Arthur couldn't understand how people so poor could afford to modify their cars or avoid tattoos.
Soon enough, Arthur's car pulled up to the Wild Wolf Bar. He parked on the street, rubbed his hands together, and walked toward the bar. Jack trailed silently behind him.
As they entered, Jack disappeared backstage, looking a bit uncomfortable. Arthur's eyes scanned the room, and he saw Mrs. Wells chatting with a priest. Next to the priest stood a middle-aged man with an Asian appearance, his face etched with sorrow.
Arthur took a deep breath, absorbing the familiar sll of the bar. It was a bit nostalgic. Though he didn't exactly belong here, he felt a connection to this place. The atmosphere was thick with mories.
Mrs. Wells turned when she heard the door open, a look of recognition crossing her face. She wasn't sure whether Arthur was an old acquaintance or a guest, but her guess was spot on.
Her gaze narrowed as she saw him, and she said, "I've heard about the cyber madman back in Night City, but I didn't believe it until now. You're really here, Arthur."
Arthur scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. He clasped his hands together in a mock apology. "Please, Mrs. Wells. It's been over ten years. For old tis' sake, let's not make it too serious. Besides, I did manage to escape death."
To Arthur's surprise, Mrs. Wells smiled and walked over to the counter. She grabbed a bottle of wine and tossed it to Arthur. "Welco back to Night City, Arthur. I'm glad to see you've kept your sanity."
Arthur caught the bottle, a smile creeping up his face. He opened it and took a long swig. It was real wine—sothing you didn't co by easily in this world.
In Night City, most food and drink was synthetic due to a severe agricultural crisis. Acid rain and desertification had ravaged the planet, leaving most crops unviable. Anything you ate or drank was usually mass-produced in food factories, laced with chemicals and flavoring agents.
But this wine was different. It had a real taste, and Arthur could appreciate it for what it was. Unlike the synthetic at, which was derived from protein vats (and best not questioned), this wine was a rare treat in a world drowning in artificiality.
As Arthur took another sip, he couldn't help but reflect on the strange circle of life in Night City. Old friends, new dangers, and unexpected monts like these made everything feel surreal. And as much as he hated the system he was a part of, there was no denying it was his ho. Whether he liked it or not, he was back in the ga.
And in Night City, the ga never really ends.
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