Chapter 65: Mission Accomplished!

After Arthur comforted the deeply traumatized Jack, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

There was actually no need to hack Michael's brain anymore.

In this world, hacking wasn't what it used to be.

You didn't just tap away on a keyboard and steal passwords.

No, modern hacking meant jacking directly into cyberspace.

You had to secure the final connection point, flip the wrist-implant switch, and pray to whatever gods still existed.

For a few horrifying seconds, gray static would flood your vision, and you'd feel your stomach lurch as your consciousness slammed into the virtual maze of neon grids and twisting data tunnels.

Inside cyberspace, hackers were gods and prey alike — processing real-world information at light speed.

Pros:

Blinding speed.

Cons:

Your brain could literally boil inside your skull if an enemy counter-hacker caught you.

You could be shredded like a pressure cooker exploding, leaving nothing but pink mist for the cleanup crews.

Worst of all, you left digital fingerprints everywhere.

In a place like Night City, any trace you left behind was an open invitation for mercenaries, netwatch agents, or vengeful corpos to come knocking at your door.

Better safe than sorry.

Arthur decided: No cyberspace diving today.

Instead, he would do things the old-fashioned way.

Arthur squatted down next to the drooling Michael, patting him lightly on the cheek.

"You want a flower girl, right?" he said in a coaxing voice.

Michael's eyes lit up immediately.

A stupid, lecherous smile split his face, and he started giggling uncontrollably.

Arthur could practically see the lust dripping from his idiot expression.

He grinned slyly.

"Alright, alright," Arthur said, smoothing Michael's hair mockingly.

"As long as you transfer three million to me... I'll let you touch the flower girl's thigh."

Jack, standing awkwardly nearby in his hideous pink dress, shivered violently.

Michael stared at Jack for a long, drooling moment.

Then he muttered through cracked lips:

"Young girl's thighs... can't touch..."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

Great.

Even brain-melted, Michael could still tell Jack wasn't exactly a "young girl."

In fact, he looked more like a steroid experiment gone wrong.

Still, the important thing was — Michael was ready to transfer money.

Arthur grinned wider.

Time to scam this lunatic properly.

"Yo, Jack," Arthur said without looking back, "you're about to get paid for real."

Jack rubbed his brawny arms uncomfortably.

"You sure you're not selling me into slavery, brother?"

Arthur gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Six to four split.

Me six. You four."

Jack's eye twitched.

He opened his mouth to argue—

Then quickly shut it.

At this point, getting touched on the thigh once for a few hundred thousand eddies didn't sound like the worst deal in Night City.

Hell, half the punks in Watson would kill for that kind of payout.

Arthur turned back to Michael, who was still smiling like an idiot.

"Alright, brother," Arthur said warmly.

"Transfer everything you've got. And in exchange... you'll get to touch the flower girl's thigh. Deal?"

Michael clapped his hands like a happy child.

Without hesitation, Arthur watched as the man's brain-computer interface blinked.

Transfer complete.

Arthur checked the incoming balance.

His pupils shrank slightly.

2.3 million eddies.

Even with Michael practically bankrupt, he still had more money left than most people would ever see in their lives.

Arthur muttered under his breath.

A skinny camel was still bigger than a horse.

He stood up, stretching lazily.

"Jack, clean up the scene a bit. Let's not leave too much of a mess."

Arthur casually left Jack behind to deal with the aftermath.

Finishing a job properly was mercenary 101.

Half the mercs who got shot in the head in Night City weren't killed because of bad fighting — they were killed because they didn't clean up their damn messes.

Back at the car, Arthur flicked out a cigarette, lit it with a snap of his thumb, and leaned back into the driver's seat.

He had barely taken his first drag when Jack stumbled in, slamming the door shut behind him.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Jack shrugged, scratching his head.

"There weren't any cameras, and no gunfire," he said simply.

"Michael was a mess already, but... just to be sure, I used a baseball bat and whacked him a few times. Broke a few things. You know, to cover our tracks."

Arthur exhaled smoke slowly.

Smart move.

In Night City, cameras in private villas were taboo.

Rich bastards didn't want anyone recording their filth.

As for fingerprints?

Forget it.

No one here had original flesh anymore.

And DNA?

Pfft.

Night City didn't even have a DNA database for citizens.

Arthur nodded approvingly.

"Good job."

He dialed the old captain's number while slowly steering the car away from the villa, merging into the sparse mountain roads leading back toward the city.

The line clicked.

The gruff, familiar voice answered immediately.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah," Arthur said easily.

"Mission accomplished."

"I've got the wages here.

We just need to meet the worker representatives and hand it over."

Arthur grinned.

"And like we agreed — I get to recruit ten of the best for my own projects."

He knew the workers in Michael's factory were quality goods.

Strong backs, tough minds.

Perfect material for merc life.

After all, they had stayed loyal and suffered in silence even after months of wage theft.

That kind of patience wasn't common in Night City.

Arthur was already imagining the future.

Give them a few mods.

Some training.

Turn them into proper mercenaries.

Maybe... even into a new crew of legends.

The mountain roads blurred past the windows.

Arthur flicked his cigarette out into the night air.

Behind him, Jack sighed heavily, still fidgeting uncomfortably in his tight pink dress.

"You know," Jack said with a grimace, "if we don't get hazard pay for this job,

I'm suing you."

Arthur just laughed and punched the gas.

Mission accomplished.

Night City... still hell.

But tonight?

Tonight they won.

[End of Chapter 65: Mission Accomplished!]