Cyberpunk Patriarch

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Arthur froze for a moment after hearing Placid's mocking words.

What's going on? Is my plan that obvious? How could even an idiot like Placid figure it out?

No, this didn't match his impression of Placid at all. The man was a brute, all brawn and no brains, with Maman being the mastermind of the Voodoo Gang. Could Placid be trying to usurp her position?

"Is my plan really that obvious, Lucy?" Arthur asked, genuinely puzzled.

Lucy nearly choked on her own spit.

"He's joking, you moron! Can't you even pick up on that? Honestly, if you've got time to stand around asking stupid questions, maybe fire a couple of shots over there. Those bastards are closing in on us, and I've got to say, I've never regretted a decision more in my life. I should've listened to Mann and stayed far away from you."

Lucy's face was the picture of regret. She cursed herself silently for trusting Dorio's reassurances that Arthur was "reliable in his own way."

Girl-help-girl? she thought bitterly. This isn't women helping women—it's women throwing each other into the fire. And I've fallen headfirst into the flames.

Arthur ignored her grumbling and shouted back at Placid.

"So, Placid, how did you figure it out? Is your brain finally catching up to your biceps? Or are you trying to show Maman you're ready to take her place?"

Standing in the distance with his arms folded, Placid paused mid-smirk. Arthur really had called the NCPD.

For a moment, Placid was genuinely stunned. Then, his confusion turned to boredom. Arguing with a madman wasn't worth his time.

"Arthur's body may have come back from the grave," Placid muttered to one of his men, "but his brain is still missing."

He sighed and turned to leave.

"Kill him and be done with it. I've got a chicken waiting at home to chop. Make sure to bring me proof it's handled."

Without another glance, Placid walked away, leaving his subordinates to deal with the mess.

One of the gang members scratched his head in confusion. Hadn't Placid just vowed to grind Arthur into meat paste and feed him to the dogs? He'd even gone so far as to order a dog specifically for the occasion.

So why was he suddenly backing off?

The younger gang member grinned. This is my chance to shine, he thought. If I finish Arthur myself, I'll finally get some real recognition!

But before he could act, the sky roared to life.

A deafening thud-thud-thud echoed across the area, followed by a hail of bullets raining down from above. Within seconds, the overconfident gang member was reduced to a splatter of blood and flesh.

Heavy machine guns mounted on an aerial vehicle had opened fire, each shot carving deep craters into the ground.

These weren't just any guns—they were anti-aircraft weapons. In Night City, however, they were often repurposed for dealing with people rather than vehicles.

The ground trembled as smoke and dust filled the air. Figures descended rapidly from the sky, as if performing an extreme skydiving stunt. They landed with loud crashes, sending waves of dirt and debris flying.

The chaos was overwhelming. Neither Lucy nor the Voodoo Gang could make sense of what was happening.

It was as if the whole scene had devolved into the kind of chaos you'd find in a bar bathroom at 3 a.m.

Arthur lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag as he watched the madness unfold.

"Well, it looks like Night City's finest are still efficient when it comes to overkill," he muttered. "Guess my taxes weren't wasted after all."

The next moment, a mantis blade snapped out from Arthur's right arm. He raised it defensively, its sharp edge gleaming against the swirling dust.

Through the haze, he could make out a figure wearing a sleek helmet.

"Melissa," Arthur said with a smirk, exhaling a puff of smoke. "You're as enthusiastic as ever. Didn't I tell you I'd come find you? You've got to give a guy some time, you know."

Melissa, one of the elite officers of the MaxTac unit, sneered at him.

"Don't give me that, Arthur. You ditched me to go on a date with your little girlfriend, didn't you?"

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Melissa cut him off.

"You've barely been back in Night City for a week, and you've already found yourself another pretty girl. Looks like I'll have to castrate you, take you home, and lock you up for good. Don't worry, though—I make enough money to support you."

Arthur felt a chill run down his spine. Without hesitation, he used his mantis blade to push Melissa back.

"Damn it, you're still as crazy as ever. How did the resetters not cure you? Letting you out is a crime against public safety!"

Melissa chuckled, retracting her own mantis blades. "Oh, relax. This isn't your girlfriend? Then who's she supposed to be?"

"She's my company's chief network consultant," Arthur replied calmly, taking another puff of his cigarette. "We're just here to inspect the factory. I've decided to leave this cyberpunk life behind and become a corporate dog. Sound fun?"

Melissa raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Arthur didn't flinch under her gaze. Though she wore standard tactical gear, her figure was still strikingly noticeable beneath it.

"Still the same as ever," Arthur continued. "You talk as much nonsense as the Night City river has trash. Ever thought about saying something sweet for once?"

Melissa snorted. "Says the cyberpunk dropout pretending to be a philosophy professor. Read a book sometime, Arthur. It might help that half-functioning brain of yours."

Arthur gave her a small smirk, relieved to see her temper cooling—at least for now.

While the two exchanged barbs, Lucy's attention was fixed on the MaxTac unit in action.

The officers were ruthless, wielding their smart rifles like extensions of their own bodies. They moved like predators, systematically cutting down every Voodoo Gang member in sight.

Some of them, apparently bored with guns, switched to their own mantis blades. They lunged at their targets like rabid dogs, dismantling their enemies with horrifying precision.

The battlefield turned into a bloodbath, and Lucy felt her stomach churn. She had seen violence before, but this level of carnage was overwhelming.

Arthur, meanwhile, took another drag from his cigarette and glanced at Melissa.

"You should take your boys out for a drink at the Ritz Bar," he said dryly. "They're wound tighter than male dogs in mating season. A little relaxation might do them some good."

Melissa touched her chin thoughtfully, as if considering his suggestion. But then she shook her head.

"Boss Susie doesn't allow brutes in her bar," she said. "I respect that, though. Honestly, some people in Night City just don't have any entrepreneurial spirit!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Entrepreneurial spirit? Says the woman who just tried to castrate me."

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