“Heh... heh heh...”
The figure was dressed in bizarre clothes—likely a man, though clad in a gaudy purple outfit. Even in the dim light, scale-like sequins shimmered faintly across the fabric.
V stormed in, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shoved him deeper into the half-underground room.
“Heard you’ve got your ear to the ground. Let’s see if we came to the right person.”
Her crisp voice cut through the air as she slammed him against a metal table by the door. The pistol she had just drawn dug into his skin, leaving a mark.
Arthur followed close behind, scanning the place for threats.
The underground space was damp and cold, dim lamps scattered haphazardly across the floor, casting broken patches of light that revealed tangled coils of wire. Dust drifted through the glow.
The man under V’s gun trembled as he stammered out,
“No... no... no...
Ask me what you want already!
The gun! The gun!
Whoa—Lady! Don’t pull the trigger!”
His eyes twitched uncontrollably, as though he might wet himself right there.
“Heard some corpos slipped into Dogtown lately.
We’re here to ask about them.”
V’s tone was flat, her gun hand steady as stone.
“Y-yeah... yeah... There’s a group like that, but they’re not easy to mess with.
The Scavs tried, and more than a dozen ended up dead.”
His gaze flicked toward the muzzle, catching the unshakable grip of her wrist. Shoulders slumping, he gave up on resistance and sank into resignation.
“This is Hansen’s turf...
And he hasn’t made a move?
Corpo types with prime goods in tow—that doesn’t happen often.”
V narrowed her eyes. Her voice didn’t change, but it carried a weight that pressed down on him all the same.
“Hansen doesn’t bother with that kind of thing.
Nobody in Dogtown’s clean, but how clean is Night City?
The only reason they came crawling into this hole is because the corporations chased them here.
And unless you’ve pissed off the corps, NCPD doesn’t waste its time.
So... Dogtown’s full of people with grudges against them.”
Pinned under her gun, the man spilled everything he knew.
V didn’t push further on Hansen. Better he stayed out of it—the BARGHEST was no joke. They used to be Militech’s spearhead.
“Alright...
Then let’s talk about these newcomers.
Tell me everything you’ve got, and this’ll all just stay between us.
But if you’re feeding me crap... I’ll make you eat your own head.”
Her icy words drove him to babble like beans spilling from a cracked basket.
“They’re holed up in the north of Dogtown, in an abandoned building that hasn’t collapsed.
Don’t know how many there are, but the Scavs tried hitting them several times and came back with nothing but corpses... They’re not the type you can just squeeze.”
His eyes darted to Arthur and V. Outsiders. Clearly new to Dogtown.
The newcomers’ location wasn’t exactly a secret—you could hear about it in any bar.
Even as he thought this, the barrel dug harder into his cheek, grinding into bone.
“I told you—I told you everything!
Don’t do anything stupid!”
He blinked rapidly, panic flooding his voice.
“If that’s all you know—”
“There’s more! I know more!”
He cut V off in a frenzy.
“They’re planning to work with Hansen, but it’s only early talks. No deal yet.
There’s supposed to be another negotiation in the next few days...
And... and... They like to hang out at the big bar in Dogtown Square!”
Racking his brain for every detail, he poured it all out, face twisted with despair, nearly in tears.
V wordlessly drew back her gun, the sharp click of the hammer snapping into place echoing in the cramped space.
“No—please... don’t kill me... That’s everything I know!”
He collapsed to the floor, clutching his head, too terrified to break his fall. Whether from pain or fear, the grown man broke down sobbing, begging through muffled cries.
In the suffocating silence of the underground room, his weeping mixed only with the dull hum of the ventilation fan.
Peeking between his arms, he dared a glance... the two intruders seemed gone.
Swallowing hard, he pushed himself shakily to his feet, his expression caught somewhere between laughing and crying.
...
“Those people want to team up with Hansen. We need to move before they close the deal.”
V’s sunglasses hid half her face. Sand whipped against her skin and tangled her hair, but the wind only made her look sharper, bolder.
“Hansen, an arms dealer, cutting deals with a bunch of Cyberware freaks...
No wonder the first talks went nowhere.”
“Now... should we go after them directly?”
Arthur’s blue eyes reflected the swirling yellow sand. Grit pattered against his cowboy hat in a steady rhythm.
Off in the distance, several tall, gray-white ruins leaned at odd angles, half-swallowed by the storm, as if the air itself wanted to bury them. The sight dragged Arthur’s thoughts back to the West.
The sand scraped skin raw, but it also buried the stench of livestock manure...
“We’ll head straight in.
Let’s hope it’s business—not a fight.”
Amid the choking air, V’s voice sounded clean, almost cutting through the storm.
They pulled open the car doors and climbed inside.
“Once this job’s done, I’m ditching this heap.”
It took her a few jabs before the key slid into the ignition. As the engine sputtered to life, V eyed the layer of dust already forming across the windshield.
“We’ve scored plenty lately...”
Arthur’s brow furrowed. His gravelly voice cut in,
“We’re not horses with bits in our mouths... It’s time we took a break.”
“Hey... sure, sure... But this is too good to pass up.
The Cyberware the corps dump on the market is junk. I’m not Maelstrom—I don’t get off on cramming garbage into my body.”
With that, V slammed her foot on the gas.
“If only we could snag something else out of the Crystal Palace...”