The darkness of the tunnels didn't slow Arthur down at all. He moved swiftly, chatting casually with the network monitor as if he were on a stroll rather than sneaking into hostile territory.
Watching Arthur's movement on the screen, the network monitor couldn't help but comment, "You move just like those giant sewer rats in the city."
Arthur ignored the remark and continued forward until he reached the blockade set up by the Voodoo Boys.
Calling it a "blockade" was generous—it was more like a giant pile of discarded junk. Old machinery, broken furniture, rusted pipes—anything they didn't want had been stacked here. It wasn't tightly sealed, but that wasn't the point. The real purpose of the pile was to act as an alarm system—any disturbance would be loud enough to alert nearby guards.
Arthur rubbed his chin as he studied the mess in front of him.
"This is going to be a problem," he muttered.
He then turned to the network monitor. "Do you know how these guys even got their equipment down here? If I remember correctly, the 693 gang dug their tunnels through a basement, right?"
"The tunnel is so narrow, it looks like it was made by rats. How the hell did they move such large equipment in?"
The network monitor sighed. "If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't be working as a network monitor, would I?"
Arthur wasn't convinced. He carefully scanned the blockade with his cybernetic eyes, searching for weak points. After a moment, he found one. He pressed his mantis blades against the spot, testing the resistance.
As he worked, he smirked and said, "You don't seem too happy working in network monitoring. How about I introduce you to the Voodoo Boys? Forget this job, switch sides. They'd love to have someone with your skills."
The network monitor scoffed. "Oh yeah? And why would they be interested in me?"
Arthur chuckled as he began cutting through the pile. "Because you're an ex-network monitoring employee. That alone makes you valuable. They'd probably make you their new best friend."
"You sound like some kind of experimental subject from a lab," the network monitor grumbled. "You've installed so much cyberware, no wonder you're on the verge of cyberpsychosis."
Arthur continued slicing through the blockade, unconcerned. "Nah, I just collect good hardware when I see it. This mantis blade, for example, belonged to Hanako Arasaka's bodyguard, Oda. That bushido-obsessed freak had the nerve to modify it, limiting its power. Then I stole it from him."
"You stole from an Arasaka bodyguard? And you're still alive?"
Arthur grinned. "Took me over a month to track him down and take it. Worth it."
The network monitor fell silent. He had met plenty of mercenaries before, but Arthur was a different breed. Not only had he stolen from one of Arasaka's elite, but he had somehow survived the retaliation. That was either insane luck or terrifying skill.
"I didn't believe in luck in Night City before," the monitor finally said. "But after meeting you, Arthur, I think I might have to reconsider."
Arthur finally cut open a passage through the blockade.
Surprisingly, there were no guards. The Voodoo Boys probably didn't expect anyone to sneak in from this direction. It made sense—this part of the tunnel was a decommissioned maglev track.
Even so, Arthur remained cautious.
He looked up and immediately spotted a security camera. Fortunately, there were blind spots in its coverage, and his new passage happened to be in one.
He exhaled in relief. Probably not detected.
Still, he wasn't going to take any chances. He scanned the entire area with his cybernetic eyes, transmitting the data to the network monitor.
"Build me a model," he instructed.
One common trick cyberpunks used was to scan their surroundings, create a 3D map, and find the safest route forward. Usually, cyberpunks relied on their hacker friends for this, but today, Arthur was working with an unlikely ally.
The network monitor quickly completed the model and confirmed, "No major obstacles. You can move now."
Arthur frowned. Something about that answer made him uneasy.
"Hold on," he said. "Do you think it's safe, or are you saying I should feel safe?"
The network monitor hesitated. "...What?"
Arthur sighed dramatically. "You can't just tell me it's safe like Night City is safe. I need you to protect me the way you protect your little steel cannon. Got it?"
The network monitor fell silent for a long moment before finally saying, "...Just plug in the virus and get out. Once it's uploaded, they'll be too distracted to notice you."
"If this goes well," he added, "I might even nominate you for a Good Citizen Medal."
Arthur's eyes lit up. "A Good Citizen Medal? Seriously? Do you think I don't want that? Hell yeah, sign me up!"
The network monitor nearly choked. A mercenary—an arsonist, a bomber, a thief, a murderer—asking for a Good Citizen Medal?
Night City's government wouldn't even consider it. Arthur had committed almost every crime in the book. Yet here he was, talking about honor like he was some kind of saint.
The network monitor decided not to argue.
Meanwhile, Arthur climbed through the hole he had just made.
The basement was dimly lit, and Arthur took a moment to observe his surroundings.
There weren't many people here. A few netrunners sat slumped in their hacking chairs, their bodies motionless, eyes closed. Thick cables extended from the back of their heads, connecting them to cyberspace.
Nearby, several makeshift cooling tubs were filled with ice. Inside, slabs of raw meat floated among the cubes.
Arthur smirked. So that's how they afford their fancy netrunning gear. They skimp on heating and just freeze their clothes along with their food.
Shaking his head, he turned his focus to the job. He needed to find the Voodoo Boys' main system and install the virus before anyone noticed him.
Time to work.
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