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Whether Arthur could return to work after investing in prosthetics depended entirely on the whims of Night City's corporate overlords. Most companies didn't care about their workers once the transaction was complete. If you took out a loan to get your body modified for work, odds were you'd be fired not long after. They'd keep the intermediary fee, and if you couldn't repay the loan? That was your problem.
It didn't matter. In Night City, corporations only cared about profits. If you couldn't keep up, you'd be dumped—discarded like scrap. And if you were unlucky, you'd be trapped in a cycle of debt for life.
After leaving Arasaka Academy, Arthur headed for Little Chinatown. His goal: visit Lao Wei's workshop to pick up some essential parts and begin constructing a prototype. Before, he might have needed help from other mechanical experts, but now he was one himself. Still, building a prototype wasn't just about functionality—it was about trust. In Night City, talk was cheap. If you wanted to do business, you needed something tangible to show. Proof mattered more than promises.
Arthur stopped in front of a familiar building and glanced at the sign. It was Misty's psychic hut.
He couldn't help but wonder how a place like this managed to stay in business in 2076. Then again, fortune-telling had always been a surprisingly profitable hustle, no matter the era.
As he opened the door, a wave of thick incense rolled over him—strong enough to choke out whatever passed for "air quality" in Night City. Compared to the already polluted atmosphere outside, this shop had a stifling presence of its own. The dim lighting, walls lined with charms and trinkets, and the ever-present scent of burnt herbs gave the space an uncanny vibe.
And, of course, the shop's greatest curiosity: the legendary separation chip said to be inspired by the Book of the Dead.
"You seem tense," came Misty's voice, bright and soothing.
Arthur turned, startled by how quietly she had approached. Her afro bobbed with each step, and there was something eerily graceful about her presence—like a ghost floating across the floor.
"I'm not here for the psychic stuff," Arthur said with a dry smile. "I'm looking for Lao Wei."
Misty smiled warmly and gestured to the back. "He's down in the basement. You're welcome to wait here. I could even give you a quick reading, if you'd like."
Arthur scratched his head, a little amused. He wasn't used to shopkeepers being this polite. Most in Night City were either indifferent or aggressive.
"Thanks, but I'm in a bit of a hurry," he replied. "Maybe next time."
Misty tilted her head. "You don't believe in divination?"
He gave her a sideways look, then shrugged. "Not really. Life's unpredictable. That's part of what makes it fun. Trying to see the future… it always feels like a setup, like someone's already pulling your strings."
"Interesting," Misty said softly. "I'll remember that."
Arthur gave her a nod and made his way through the back door, heading down to the basement where Lao Wei's prosthetics clinic operated. Immediately, he was greeted by a cacophony of noise.
"Mamma mia! Hombre, go easy! My hand feels like it's going to fall off!"
"Your hand's already broken, idiot! If you were any less lucky, we'd have to give you a whole new metal arm!"
Arthur smirked. Just another day in Night City. Lao Wei's customers never disappointed.
Moving past the chaos, he made his way toward the workbench at the rear. He passed half-assembled prosthetics, exposed wiring, and containers full of chrome limbs. Here, people weren't just patients—they were works-in-progress.
In Night City, enhancements were more than tools—they were lifelines. Everyone wanted to be faster, stronger, harder to kill. Some wanted power. Others just didn't want to die. And in a city that could swallow you whole in seconds, being part-machine was sometimes the only thing keeping you alive.
Arthur found Lao Wei hunched over a bench, soldering a new wrist actuator. The older man looked up and grinned as Arthur approached.
"Arthur! You finally made it," Lao said, wiping his hands on a rag. "Looking for parts again?"
Arthur dropped a bag of eddies on the counter. "I need gear to start a prototype. Something simple but solid. Can't afford to mess around right now."
Lao nodded knowingly and began rummaging through nearby shelves. "You're lucky. Got some new stock in last week. Fresh off a cargo shipment. You're in luck—though luck costs extra these days."
Arthur chuckled. "That's fine. I'll make it work."
As Lao sorted parts, Arthur's thoughts drifted back to Misty's strange shop and their short exchange. Maybe she was right—maybe ignorance really was bliss. In a place like this, sometimes it was better not to know what was coming. Just brace yourself and take it one day at a time.
Lao returned with a bundle of cables, processors, and actuator shells. "Here," he said. "This should be enough to get started. But don't get killed testing it."
Arthur took the bundle with a nod. "Appreciate it."
As he turned to leave, he passed back through the psychic hut. Misty looked up and offered a parting smile.
"Remember what I said," she called. "Sometimes the less you know, the happier you'll be."
Arthur paused, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. Maybe she was right. In a city built on chaos, maybe the only way to stay sane was to stop looking ahead—and just keep moving.
With his supplies in hand and his mind sharper than ever, Arthur stepped back into the blinding, buzzing madness of Night City—ready for whatever came next.
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