Lucy exhaled a lazy puff of smoke, watching Arthur pinch the bridge of his nose like a man who had just been handed a death sentence in Comic Sans.
"You look like you're not used to being hammered so hard," she said, smirking.
Arthur glared. "That sounds way worse than I think you meant it."
He tapped on the call with the Old Captain still ongoing. "Are you sure they're here for me?"
The Captain shrugged on screen. "They're looking for you like a corpo looks for quarterly profits. Word is Adam Smasher wants to sit down and have a little chat over tea."
Arthur scoffed. "You mean he wants to use my skull as the teacup."
The Captain's grin widened. "If I were him, I'd be boiling your blood and selling it as a chrome cleaning product. You've ripped him off so many times, he might start offering loyalty points."
Arthur let out a groan. "It was one arsenal. One!"
"You cleaned it out twice. You even took the emergency backup jockstrap, Arthur."
Arthur waved a hand. "He wasn't using it."
The Captain ignored that. "Anyway, got word from the inside. Arasaka's not pressing charges on the Watson incident. Something big's coming—they don't want to rock the boat just yet. Image is everything when you're trying to impress the suits up top."
Arthur frowned. "Wait... so why's Smasher losing it now?"
The Captain gave a dramatic sigh. "Because this time, you didn't just dent his pride. You looted his stash while flipping off his surveillance cameras."
"Again, wasn't my fault he left his password taped to the side of his desk like a boomer."
"But now he's calling every intel and counterintel agent Arasaka's got, screaming about your underwear color."
Arthur raised a brow. "Zhuo. I knew the guy was intense, but I didn't expect him to be that kinky."
The Captain nodded solemnly. "He's not kinky. He's obsessive. He wants answers. Names. Fabric blend."
Arthur groaned and rubbed his face. "Tell him I wear titanium-threaded nano-fiber black briefs. Very breathable. He can stop asking now."
The Captain laughed. "Yeah, I'll pass that along to his kill squad. Real comforting stuff."
Arthur leaned back. "Arasaka's got bigger problems. That corp's less unified than a bar brawl between schizophrenic triplets."
The Captain nodded. "No kidding. They're cannibalistic. Every exec's trying to outplay each other. You wake up and the first thing you do is ask, 'How do I kill my manager today?' That's standard protocol."
Arthur tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking. "Still, I need more than rumors. I want a direct line into Arasaka's plans—see if this is just Smasher throwing a tantrum, or something bigger."
"So what? You gonna call up Yorinobu himself and ask how he's feeling?"
Arthur smirked. "Nah. I got someone better."
He hung up the call and immediately dialed Jack.
The line clicked. Jack's voice came through, muffled by music and background chatter. "Arthur? Boss? That you?"
"Yeah. Where are you?"
"Ritz Bar, baby! What's up? You wanna see me again? I mean, if I gotta dress up again, just say the word. I'm open-minded these days."
Arthur winced. "Jack, we talked about that..."
"I've got the boots and everything, bro. Chrome heels, synth-leather lace—"
Arthur shuddered. "Stop. Listen. That counter-intel girl you mentioned last time—the one from Arasaka?"
"Oh! You mean V? Yeah, she hit me up earlier. Wanted something small. We're supposed to meet here at the bar. You want in?"
Arthur paused. That sinking gut feeling again. His instinct screamed trap, but logic reminded him it was the cleanest shot at intel without burning a corpo HQ to the ground.
"Fine. I'm coming."
"Sweet! I'll save you a seat—and maybe a cocktail umbrella. Just in case."
Arthur ended the call and turned to Lucy.
"I gotta head out. Intel mission. Want to join me at Ritz Bar?"
Lucy stared at him like he'd just invited her to a clown convention. "Are you seriously asking me to the Ritz Bar?"
Arthur shrugged. "What? Great drinks, friendly staff, an underground market of sin and debauchery—what's not to love?"
"That place is infamous, Arthur. You don't take girls you like there. You take... cyberpsychos."
"C'mon, it's just a meeting spot. Neutral ground."
"I'm not going to a glorified brothel while you flirt with Arasaka."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself. But don't overthink it. You're not on anyone's radar. You're not that important."
Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Charming as always."
Arthur stood and ruffled her hair. "Eat, sleep, don't worry. I'll handle the scary Adam."
Lucy swatted his hand away. "Idiot."
Arthur grinned and walked out, hotwiring a junker parked nearby and heading toward Watson.
---
An hour later, the Ritz Bar's neon lights flickered like a heartbeat in the city's underbelly. Inside, synth music throbbed and the air reeked of perfume, blood, and whiskey.
Arthur sat at a corner booth, a drink in hand, legs crossed, keeping one eye on the crowd and one hand near his weapon.
Jack was already there, dressed in a velvet jacket and suspiciously well-polished shoes.
"Jack," Arthur said, sipping, "what'd you do with that cash I gave you?"
Jack grimaced. "Let's not talk about it..."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed and downed his drink. "So I bought some drinks. Celebrated. Had a little too much in the garage, passed out. My mom shows up, sees the bottles, flips her lid."
Arthur winced.
"She demanded to know where I got the money, so I told her. All of it."
Arthur groaned.
"She took the money, left me twenty K, and said she's putting the rest aside for my marriage fund."
Arthur blinked. "Wait. Your mom thinks you're getting married?"
Jack looked into the distance like a war veteran. "To you."
Arthur spat his drink across the table.
"Same world," Jack said solemnly. "Same mothers."
Arthur wiped his mouth and muttered, "I should've just bought you a gun."
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