This surgery carried one thing that made David hesitate—the memory of installing the Sandevistan.
That experience had been anything but pleasant; the pain nearly killed him.
This time, though, there was no pain at all. It felt like he had simply taken a nap.
When he opened his eyes, the discomfort from the Cyberware on his back was completely gone. He couldn't even feel its presence.
If not for his fingertips brushing against its cold surface, he might have thought the implant had been stolen.
"How do you feel?"
Lifting his head, David saw Vik smiling kindly at him, and a wave of relief washed over him.
His body still felt heavy, likely from the fading anesthesia.
"Feels great. Like I just dropped a heavy load."
"I don't know who installed your Cyberware, but it was a mess in there. You had visibly necrotic tissue.
And your nerves—some were in shock. Don't tell me you had it done without anesthesia, letting them burn in raw pain."
David gave a bitter smile, recalling the memory of his Sandevistan installation. It was unforgettable—for all the wrong reasons.
"I don't think I ever want to relive that memory again."
...
Heywood, Vista del Rey.
On the second floor of the Wild Wolf Bar, inside a private room.
A massive bouncer stood at the door. His stern face softened when he spotted Jackie.
"Didn't think you'd make a name for yourself this quick. This your new friend?"
The man peered at Arthur from behind his sunglasses, like a predator sizing up prey.
"Long time no see. He's working with me. We need to see Padre—I've finished what he asked of me."
Jackie gave the man a friendly jab to the chest.
But the bouncer didn't step aside just because he knew Jackie. His eyes flickered before a deep, commanding voice came from behind the door.
"Let them in. Jackie's like a son to me. No need to be so cautious."
The voice was old yet strong, carrying a calming weight.
Inside sat a short, thin-haired old man on the sofa.
His lined face was warm, with a gentle smile that made even his wrinkles seem kind.
"That kid even tried to stop you… really now…"
Jackie's face lit up like he'd just seen family.
"Padre, your safety matters most. If he hadn't stopped me, I'd have beaten him myself."
"Sit. Looks like you pulled it off. To make it through Japantown—the Tyger Claws' turf—that's impressive for someone your age."
Padre gestured toward the sofa, his expression lively.
Once they sat down, he poured two glasses of liquor himself and slid them across the table.
"Jackie, it makes me proud to see one of you kids turn out capable."
Jackie grabbed the glass, downed it in one go, and wiped his mouth with satisfaction before looking at Padre.
"I respect you, so I'll be straight.
Do you know what the job's target was?"
Padre seemed to catch the meaning. He pressed his hands down, stopping Jackie before he could continue.
"I'm old, Jackie. Some things no longer interest me.
Whether it's your side or theirs, I'll turn a deaf ear.
As for this job, they paid thirty-five grand. I kept five—for the brothers who dug up the intel.
I won't take a single eddy more, nor meddle in things that aren't mine."
He spoke slowly, but with a weight that was hard to ignore.
He slid a chip across the table—the transaction chip. Using it was a clean way to settle payment.
"This is your cut. Withdraw it, then make the chip disappear.
After that, every trace of this job vanishes. No matter who comes asking, the answer will be the same."
Jackie understood. He tucked the chip away without a word.
They hadn't learned much here, but the outcome was still solid.
Just as Jackie stood, Padre pulled him back.
"Kid, it's been a while. You came just to talk business?"
He refilled Jackie's glass.
"Sit, drink with me a while. Introduce me to your new friend."
The three fell into easy conversation, steering clear of the job. The mood turned warm, relaxed.
When Jackie and Arthur finally got up to leave, Padre stopped him once more—this time not to keep him.
"Jackie, I watched you grow up. We're family.
When you're out there, sometimes I can't help you.
But if you can't take it anymore, come home. We'll hide you well."
Seeing the old man's face—genuine, without pretense—Jackie grinned and gave his farewell.
"Adiós, padre."
...
After they left, the bouncer guarding Padre's door barged in.
"Padre, I don't get it. Just one word from you, and Biotechnica would've given us another forty grand. Why refuse?"
Padre blinked in mild surprise but quickly returned to calm.
"Why say that? Aren't you friends?"
His tone remained slow, eyes fixed on the glass before him.
"Friendship is one thing, but forty grand could change the gang's future. We could shove those damn 6th Street punks into the gutter. How can you pass on that just for friendship?"
The man's face carried righteous indignation.
"Sit down. I'm old now. You—I've been grooming as my successor."
Padre's voice stayed gentle, but his eyes flashed cold for a moment.
"There are things you need to understand, or you'll never get it.
Over the years, how many Fixers has Night City seen? Why are only us old hands still standing?
Remember this: a Fixer eats from two bowls, both balanced on a one-legged table.
Smash either bowl, and the table tips over.
The Corps may have overflowing coffers, but they won't spare a single eddy for you. They won't let you bring your bowl to their table.
Only Fixers who see this clearly can keep eating for years."
With that, Padre left the room, not caring if the man understood.
...
On the roadside, Arthur walked toward the empty train station, cigar clenched between his teeth, white smoke clouding his eyes.
Jackie walked beside him, took a single puff, then crushed it out and tossed it in a trash can.
"Compared to a Fixer, your elder feels more like a leader."
Arthur shot him a sideways glance, then looked ahead again.
"Strictly speaking, Padre is the leader. Most of the Valentinos' affairs go through him."
Jackie gave Arthur an awkward look before replying.
"Guess that makes him head of a whole family. He must be doing something right—keeping gang kids off smokes isn't easy."
Jackie laughed and added,
"The smoking thing? That's just my mom not allowing it.
Forget small stuff. Let's check our payout. Not clean money, sure, but still a fat stack."
A gleam lit Jackie's eyes. Moments later, Arthur's neural link pinged with the transfer.
"If it's dirty, we'll just 'clean' it. This won't be so easy to brush aside."
"Forget that for now, hermano. We need to talk about how to use this money. It's a fortune."
Jackie's grin made it obvious he already knew exactly how he'd spend it.
"What's got you so happy? Got a plan?"
"I've got my eye on a ride—the latest ARCH! I'm completely in love with its wheels!"
Arthur noticed how serious Jackie looked despite his excitement and let it slide, though a "wicked" thought crossed his mind—
let David take it for a test drive.
"What about you? Any plans?"
Arthur didn't think long.
"First, pay Vik back. Then get some solid guns. Maybe even implants."
He'd grilled Vik on implants thoroughly. His aim was still sharp, but he couldn't ignore the threat Cyberware posed.
Take David's Sandevistan. If that kid trained up and activated it close by, Arthur might catch a blur of him—but his body would never react in time.
Every body has its limits. And truth be told, Arthur had already touched those limits in some areas.
But rushing into implants was dangerous. If it stripped away the essence of a sharpshooter, the trade-off wouldn't be worth it.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser