Arthur nodded thoughtfully after hearing Jerry's explanation, feeling that this was indeed the way things worked around here.
It would be extremely difficult for a new company to rent an office in the Night City Corporate Plaza.
Not because of money — money wasn't the issue.
No, it was about status.
If you had no reputation, no strength, no claws sharpened by the endless backstabbing of Night City's corporate warfare — then you weren't even worth spitting on.
So how did you prove yourself?
Simple.
Find an existing company already holding real estate there.
Crush it. Bankrupt it. Make it disappear.
Then the plaza would let you rent a building — if you survived the fallout.
Simple. Brutal. Efficient. Fun.
Night City style.
"Mr. Arthur," Delamain's voice came through the speakers again, calm and mechanical, "we are about to arrive at our destination. I will now send you the final information regarding the out-of-control vehicles. Please search the surrounding area."
"If you locate the vehicles, please completely shut down their car systems so that I can reestablish control. I have provided a scanning device in the trunk to assist you."
Arthur casually nodded, popping open the door as the black taxi glided into a discreet underground parking garage.
He stretched lazily, then wandered over to the trunk and pulled out a small, sleek device — a pair of retro-looking glasses.
Without much thought, he shoved them into his pocket. He could figure it out later.
Delamain's taxi purred away, leaving Arthur alone in front of a towering building.
He looked up.
Knight International.
Once known as Knight Knight International, it was originally the Night Foundation, founded by the widow of the murdered Richard Night — the visionary who had dreamed up this glittering cesspool.
Knight International was... unique.
Officially, they handled everything civic:
Roads. Bridges. Subway lines. Power grids. Water systems.
Even charity work and scholarships to "bring opportunities to Night City's brightest young talents."
It sounded noble.
It sounded like hope.
But this was Night City — and nobody bought that bullshit.
For starters, Knight International was insanely secretive.
No one knew how many employees they had.
No one knew their total market value.
Hell, their important members weren't even public.
A company that size — surviving solely on public contracts in a dying city — without any profitable businesses?
Impossible.
And yet… they thrived.
Maybe they were brewing some monstrous conspiracy.
Maybe they were just laundering money for the bigger corps.
Arthur didn't care.
They had one redeeming quality.
An eight-hour workday.
In a world where most corps worked employees to death — literally, taking stimulants during shifts and sleeping pills afterward — Knight International offered a standard workday.
No death by overwork.
No stimulants to keep you from collapsing at your desk.
As far as Arthur was concerned, they could be making deals with the devil himself.
As long as they let people clock out on time, they were saints in his book.
Arthur pulled up Melissa's contact info and tapped the number she had given him.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then a crisp, polite voice answered.
"Hi, this is Jerry from Knight International. I don't seem to have your information in the system. Would you mind introducing yourself?"
Arthur smirked.
A polite one.
Rare breed in Night City.
"This is Arthur," he said. "Got your number from Melissa. Heard you're selling some outdated buses?"
There was a slight pause.
"Ah… you're a friend of that cyberpsycho?"
Jerry's voice was cautious. Maybe a little too cautious.
Arthur grinned wider.
"Yeah. Good friends."
"...May I ask — purely out of curiosity — how exactly did you become friends with someone like her?"
The poor man sounded genuinely baffled.
Arthur chuckled.
He couldn't blame him.
Most people who got close to cyberpsychos usually ended up in body bags.
He decided to be generous and explain.
"You know how it is," Arthur said casually.
"Patients bond easily. We met back when we were both stuck in the same psych ward."
"There she was, a cute little girl, popping out her mantis blades and trying to slice me into sushi."
Arthur leaned against the wall, smiling at the memory.
"I was faster. Got my own blades to her throat first.
As the old saying goes — if you don't fight, you don't understand each other.
After that... we became friends."
Jerry, on the other side of the call, was stunned speechless.
Good God.
First dates in Night City:
Some people bought flowers.
Some people exchanged mantis blade strikes to the jugular.
Romantic.
He rubbed his forehead and sighed.
Night City, you insane, beautiful disaster.
"Anyway," Arthur continued smoothly, "I hear you've got some old buses up for sale?"
"Y-yes," Jerry stammered, pulling himself together. "They're just old city buses. We're clearing space for some new models. If you're interested, why don't you come by the City Center?"
Arthur glanced up at the towering Knight International skyscraper standing over him.
"Actually," he said, amused, "I'm outside your building right now."
There was a stunned pause.
"...I'll have the front desk let you through immediately."
A few minutes later, Arthur strolled out of Knight International's gleaming lobby, casually flipping three key cards in his hand.
Three buses.
All old city buses, a little scratched and battered, but still solid.
He just needed to pick them up from the bus yard later.
No going back once he took them out — Knight International had made that clear.
But he didn't care.
For the price Jerry had given him?
One thousand eddies per bus.
It was basically a charity donation.
Arthur slipped the cards into his pocket with satisfaction.
Now he just needed to figure out where to park them.
Parking them back at the city bus depot was obviously not an option.
But maybe he could dump them near the Voodoo Boys' turf, down in Pacifica.
He could always "ask" Placid and the others to keep an eye on them.
Sure, if they lost a few parts along the way, he'd just show up, raise a little hell, and make sure everyone remembered why messing with Arthur was a bad idea.
Perfect plan.
Arthur hummed to himself as he wandered down the street, the afternoon sun burning weakly through Night City's filthy sky.
[End of Chapter 77: How Did You Become Friends With Her?]