"Arthur! You were the one who robbed my brother's car?!"
"You actually robbed our Sixth Street Gang of supplies. I think you want to commit treason. Kneel down under this stars and stripes flag and apologize immediately, you b*****d!"
Arthur had just left the secret base like a garage when he saw a group of people chattering around outside.
Many wore camouflage clothing and body armor, looking like soldiers — but calling them soldiers was generous. Most had tattoos, sunglasses, and cigarettes dangling from their mouths, looking more like a bunch of rowdy punks playing dress-up.
The Sixth Street Gang was originally made of post-war veterans.
Back then, they tried to maintain Night City's law and order — because the NCPD sure wasn't doing it.
Those guys would grab a coffee, park on a random street, and chill all day until their shift ended.
Since nobody else cared, these ex-soldiers took up the cause.
But as the old saying goes: the dragon slayer eventually becomes the dragon.
As more members joined, ideals decayed, and today, Sixth Street was just another gang.
Only their soldier uniforms remained.
"Why do I hear your accent and smell a stick? You don't even sound like a real old-school bald eagle," Arthur muttered, touching his chin in amusement.
At that moment, Lucy burst out the door behind him, a small pistol in hand, looking around awkwardly.
"Can I say I was just passing by? I really have no connection to him!"
She hurriedly tried to distance herself.
But the Sixth Street brothers weren't having it.
Arthur's "good neighbor," the one whose car he "borrowed," stormed forward, red-faced and furious, pointing a trembling finger at Arthur like it was dipped in ketchup.
"You f***ing bastard! You took my car... and picked up such a beautiful girl with it!!!"
Arthur sighed and, without missing a beat, scooped Lucy up and rolled into the garage behind them.
There was an old car inside — at least good for cover.
The gang didn't hesitate — rifles up, they lit up the entrance like it was the Fourth of July.
Gunshots cracked, shells clattered, and the smell of burnt powder filled the air.
Arthur crouched down next to Lucy and muttered, "Tch. 2076 already, and they're still using gunpowder rifles?"
Lucy huddled beside him, fuming: "How the hell did you piss off these lunatics?"
"What do you mean piss off?" Arthur said indignantly. "When I borrowed the car, that idiot even filled the tank for me! How was I supposed to know he'd go back on his word?!"
Arthur drew his pistol and handed it to her.
"Here. What's that little toy you're holding gonna do?"
Lucy blinked, confused. "What about you?"
Arthur just smiled, reached out, and punched the ground — crack!
The concrete split.
From under a loose tile, he pulled out a black box, tossing it open.
Lucy watched, stunned. She had been with Maine's crew for a while now... and had no idea there were hidden weapons stashed here!
Arthur pulled a long metal tube from the box and grinned.
Eight teeth shining.
"I can do whatever I want!"
Lucy paled when she saw it. "Is that... an RPG?!"
"Old man, that's an antique! It's older than you! It might blow up in your hands!"
Arthur calmly loaded a warhead into the launcher.
"I made it myself... Don't worry."
The next moment, the world slowed down in Arthur's eyes — his prosthetics accelerating his reflexes.
Arthur stood, lifted the launcher, and pulled the trigger.
Time snapped back into place.
BOOM!!!
He dropped into a squat just as the shockwave punched through the garage.
Dust, smoke, and debris flew.
Lucy's hair whipped wildly around her face.
Arthur, still crouched coolly, blew out a puff of smoke and said:
"Weapons... like humans. The older they get, the better they become."
Lucy rolled her eyes and tossed the pistol back to him.
At that moment, Maine staggered out the door.
He stared blankly at the destruction.
His face turned red. His muscles tensed.
Arthur tensed too — wondering if Maine was about to cyberpsychosis out.
But instead...
Maine howled and sprinted toward the burning wreckage like a madman.
"My car!!! My brand-new car!!! The loan isn't even paid off yet! What the hell did you do?!"
Arthur scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Ah... Lucy, I'll chat with you next time. Uncle's got urgent business!"
"YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN? PAY ME BACK, YOU BASTARD!!!"
Before Maine could lunge at him, Arthur was already gone —
Vanished from Lucy's side like a ghost.
Outside the garage, Arthur turned, waved at her cheekily... and disappeared into the streets of Night City.
Lucy stood frozen, cigarette trembling in her hand.
Slowly, she pulled out a pack of women's smokes, lit one, took a deep drag... and sighed.
"This guy... doesn't feel like an antique at all.
Is he really forty or fifty years old?"
Meanwhile, Maine sat by the wreckage of his car, sobbing as he caressed the hood.
Thirty installments left...
Thirty heartbreaks to go.
Dorio sauntered out, one hand in her pocket, another holding a glass of whiskey.
Hearing Lucy's comment, Maine shook his head bitterly.
"Back then, when I first saw Arthur, I thought he was like Morgan Blackhand.
Followed him thinking I'd learn to be a legend..."
He clenched his fists.
"But I spent more time hungry than anything else."
Dorio took a sip from her glass and chuckled.
"Arthur may be unreliable on the surface.
But deep down, he's the most trustworthy guy you'll ever meet."
"He won't abandon his people.
He values friendship more than money.
If he likes you, even if you're just a kid, he'll still protect you."
Lucy exhaled smoke and smiled faintly.
"Sounds like the kind of fool you never see in Night City anymore."