The safehouse was buried deep in the industrial maze of Watson North, nestled between a derelict braindance studio and a half-burnt ramen shop. It looked like nothing—just a rust-streaked door tucked behind a dumpster that reeked of artificial crab sticks and expired synth-meat.
Arthur parked the car and stepped out, smoke trailing from his cigarette. The cyberpsycho groaned in the back seat, still barely clinging to consciousness.
Arthur sighed. "Don't puke in the car. It's not even mine."
He opened the passenger door, slung the deadweight of chrome and meat over his shoulder, and carried the man like luggage to the door. A retinal scan blinked green as Arthur leaned in.
The lock clicked. The door slid open.
Inside was a concrete bunker. Minimal lighting, no windows, and the thick stench of oil and disinfectant. Surveillance drones hovered silently in the corners. Regina's fixer contacts didn't play games.
A woman stood at the workbench, goggles over her eyes and gloves smeared with nano-gel. Her hair was tied back in an oil-stained ponytail.
"You're late," she muttered.
"City traffic," Arthur replied flatly, dropping the cyberpsycho on a gurney.
The woman—Doc Mira, Regina's underground trauma technician—glanced at the twitching man, then at Arthur.
"Looks like a real prize. What's he packing?"
Arthur handed over the data chip. "Experimental Sandevistan, neural feedback net, and a full suite of trauma-triggered memory locks. And... this." He flipped out the drive. "Braindance footage. Full rampage mode."
Mira's eyebrow twitched. "Unedited?"
"Unfiltered."
She slid the drive into her rig and scanned the contents. "Christ. These files are pure gold."
Arthur leaned against the wall. "Just don't sell it to any corpo. Last thing I need is Arasaka finding out I looted one of their pet projects."
Mira smirked. "Relax. I don't deal with corpos. Only the highest-bidding degenerates."
Arthur grinned. "That's the spirit."
As she worked, Arthur stepped into the shadows of the adjoining room. There was a mirror on the wall, cracked and stained. He looked into it—and saw a man he barely recognized. Bags under his eyes. Stubble turning silver. Scars webbing across his collarbone.
He reached for a nearby cabinet, pulled out a bottle of chilled water, and drank deeply.
Then the door buzzed.
Arthur tensed, hand instinctively hovering over his sidearm. Mira glanced up from the gurney. "Expecting someone?"
"No."
The door slid open.
Melissa stepped through.
She wasn't wearing the standard MaxTac armor. No glowing lights, no high-tech HUD. Just a dark coat and tired eyes. Her hair was shorter than he remembered.
Arthur blinked. "Didn't expect you so soon."
"You sent the coordinates," she said. "And I don't like waiting."
They stood there for a moment, two ghosts from the same grave.
Mira whistled low. "So this is the MaxTac sweetheart. She's prettier than I expected."
Melissa's eyes flicked to her, unamused. "This isn't a social call."
Arthur raised both hands. "Easy. She's just here to patch up your ex-patient."
Melissa glanced at the twitching man on the gurney. Her jaw clenched.
"He's the one who killed six people in two minutes?"
"Yeah. And I stopped him with a pair of glorified kitchen knives," Arthur replied. "No kill. No mess. Just a clean slice and a shutdown."
Melissa stepped closer to the gurney. Her hand hovered near her pistol. "He's dangerous."
"No more than you or me," Arthur said quietly.
That hung in the air like static.
"I want access to the footage," Melissa finally said.
Arthur nodded to Mira, who made a copy and tossed a chip to Melissa.
She pocketed it without a word. Then turned back to Arthur.
"Still chasing ghosts?"
"Only the ones that matter."
They stared at each other again. Ten years of pain in a single look.
"I meant what I said," she added. "About that dinner."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
"I don't joke, Arthur. Not anymore."
He exhaled slowly. "Then... maybe."
Melissa studied him for a moment longer, then turned and walked toward the exit. Before stepping out, she looked back.
"Watch your back. Regina isn't the only one interested in your footage. Arasaka's already flagged you in their net."
Arthur's cigarette paused at his lips. "How high?"
"High enough."
Then she was gone.
---
Later that night, Arthur sat alone on the rooftop above the safehouse. The lights of Night City glimmered below, a million neon lies and half-truths.
He thought about Melissa.
About Judy, who he still hadn't seen.
About David, and Gloria, and the broken family he was trying to rebuild.
And about the cyberpsycho below, lying in a drugged haze, still twitching with echoes of blood and pain.
Arthur reached for his pack of cigarettes and found it empty.
"Figures."
From behind, Mira's voice echoed up the stairs.
"You should come down. The footage's clean. Judy's gonna love it. Instant market smash."
Arthur smiled faintly. "Let her know I'll drop by tomorrow. I've got some ghosts to chase first."
He leaned back, staring up at the night sky.
Somewhere, deep inside, he could feel it.
Night City wasn't done with him yet.
---
To be continued...
Access Judy, new footage deals, the fallout with Melissa, and the next big fixer's gig in early Chapters now:
/Samurai492