Cyberpunk Patriarch

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Lucy stood frozen, unsure of what to say. Next to her were two seemingly deranged individuals, calmly discussing their shared insanity.

A bar for members of the Terrorist Mobile Team? Everyone in Night City knew these people were legal cyberpsychos—killing them would only bring more destruction. They were untouchable, protected by their status as NCPD's most feared force.

Melissa's attention shifted to Lucy, her gaze appraising and unnervingly intense. She studied her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, her thoughts clearly racing.

After a moment, Melissa finally spoke, her words cutting through the tension.

"Well, your little girlfriend is quite the beauty. I wouldn't mind if the three of us… you know, spent some time together."

Lucy's face turned a deep red. Her mind froze, unable to process the sheer audacity of the statement. She tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Arthur, on the other hand, frowned as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He met Melissa's eyes seriously.

"I've told you before, Melissa: bisexuality is a condition that needs treatment. Didn't your doctor prescribe medication?"

Melissa rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "For the last time, Arthur, bisexuality isn't a disease. Maybe you should be more open-minded. Besides, the only man I've ever truly loved is you. Shouldn't you be grateful? You're benefiting from my affection."

Arthur scratched his head, genuinely trying to come up with a rebuttal. After a moment, his face lit up as if he'd found the perfect argument.

"That's… actually a good point. You're right, Melissa. I don't really have a reason to argue. My bad—carry on and keep being yourself."

Before Melissa could respond, Lucy snapped out of her daze. With a loud groan, she delivered a swift punch to the back of Arthur's head.

"What the hell are you saying?!" Lucy fumed, glaring at him. "You're making things worse! And what is with this inappropriate flirting? Can't you see the mess we're in? The scene is bloody and chaotic, and you're acting like it's some kind of romantic comedy!"

The chaos from the battle nearby had started to die down. The Voodoo Gang members were either dead or fleeing. Against the might of the Terrorist Mobile Team, they hadn't stood a chance. The few remaining hackers from the gang wisely kept their distance, knowing full well that escalating the situation would bring more destruction—and possibly corporate intervention.

Melissa turned to observe the aftermath of the carnage. She gestured to the team members still standing and began giving orders, but her focus soon returned to Lucy.

"Don't you see the beauty in all this?" Melissa asked, her tone filled with a disturbing sincerity. "The bullets ripping through flesh, the blades cutting down enemies—it's like a symphony of life and death. This… this is art. I get high just thinking about it."

Arthur took a deep breath, realizing just how far gone Melissa was. Her condition has gotten worse, he thought grimly. Those so-called doctors in Night City are quacks. If they'd done their job right, she wouldn't still be like this.

Arthur made a mental note to visit every clinic in the city and personally "thank" the doctors responsible for releasing her back into the wild.

Lucy, meanwhile, was horrified. Her face had turned pale, and she struggled to keep her composure. She had heard rumors about the mental instability of the Terrorist Mobile Team, but hearing Melissa speak confirmed everything.

"You're insane," Lucy muttered under her breath, avoiding Melissa's gaze.

Melissa seemed unfazed by Lucy's reaction. She turned to Arthur with a playful smirk.

"Arthur, remember how you used to take me to these kinds of shows? You always said they were the height of culture."

Arthur's eyebrow twitched. "That was a long time ago, Melissa. People change. These days, I'd rather go to the Ritz Bar and watch some Mewtwo matches."

Melissa pouted but let it slide. She appeared satisfied when Arthur begrudgingly nodded and said, "Alright, fine. It's… artistic. But it could be better. Your team needs more finesse. Tell them to cool down and be precise."

Melissa's expression brightened, and she started bouncing with excitement like a child. The sight was enough to send Arthur into a mental spiral. For a brief moment, it felt like nothing had changed in over a decade.

Arthur shook his head, forcing himself to remember that Melissa was unhinged. He couldn't let himself get drawn in by her antics. Stay focused, Arthur, he thought. She's a cyberpsycho. Don't fall for it.

A bloodied member of the Terrorist Mobile Team approached Melissa. "Mission complete. Should we escort you, or will you be staying?"

Melissa frowned, visibly torn. She glanced at Arthur and then at the waiting aircraft.

"I'll go," she said finally. Before leaving, she turned to Arthur with a mischievous smile. "Don't forget to call me. If you take too long, I might just show up at your place."

Arthur watched her walk away, breathing a sigh of relief as she climbed into the aircraft. The chaos of the battle had finally subsided, leaving him in relative peace.

As he lit another cigarette, Arthur's phone rang. He answered it, and an all-too-familiar voice began yelling at him.

"Arthur, you piece of s**t! Are you seriously involved with that psycho from the Terrorist Mobile Team?"

Arthur smirked, unbothered by the outburst. "Maman, don't be so dramatic. Everyone knows Night City relationships are as fresh as last week's vegetables. And hey, don't act like you've never had dealings with the NCPD yourself."

There was a long pause on the other end before Maman spoke again, his tone more measured. "Fine. What do you want?"

Arthur pushed open the door to his rundown factory, surveying the mess inside. The place was filled with trash, and the air smelled like rot. He sighed before responding.

"First, I'm opening a factory here in Pacifica. I need honest workers—no criminal records. Can you help?"

"Are you serious?" Maman asked, incredulous.

"Do I sound like I'm joking? I didn't crawl out of hell just to play games."

"Fine. I'll find you some people."

"Second," Arthur continued, "send someone to clean this place up. It's a garbage dump. I think I even saw one of your aunt's towels in here."

"You b*****d," Maman growled. "When I see you next, I'll shut that filthy mouth of yours. What else?"

"Lastly, tell Placid to chop me three kilograms of free-range chicken. I want it fresh—I'm making soup."

"…You're insane," Maman muttered before hanging up.

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. Life in Night City never failed to surprise him.

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