Chapter 77: Within Arm's Reach
Inside the ballroom, second floor.
In the southwest corner, where the light was dim and gloomy, few guests ever came.
At that moment, a man and a woman sat there.
“Abernathy’s back. So… should we make a move?”
The man sat lower, his tone filled with deference.
The woman didn’t answer right away. The man didn’t dare press further, waiting quietly.
“This time, V’s caught the attention of the higher-ups. The company seems to value those Biotechnica files a great deal.
Naturally, the credit will land on Jenkins. Abernathy doesn’t look happy about it.”
After a long silence, a voice cold as a serpent finally broke through the darkness. She stayed hidden within it, coiled and waiting.
“Amy… are you saying… we forget about that resilient target?”
The man tested cautiously.
“No, Brown.”
From the shadows, she tossed a chip. It clattered onto the floor in front of him.
“Take a look. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.”
Brown grabbed it without hesitation and slid it into the port at the back of his neck.
Data surged in, pages of crimson information flashing across his mind.
They showed details of recent gigs David had taken.
But one stood out: a mission completed not long ago, nothing but a pitch-black void. No data, no details. Just a blank page.
Brown checked the rest carefully—ordinary jobs, routine work. Even after another pass, he found nothing unusual.
He looked up, baffled.
“What’s the deal? Looks… normal to me.”
“You’re missing the point.
The real detail is in that black page.
That blank stretch in his record—no matter how we dig, we get nothing.
Now think. Who in Night City can wipe tracks that clean, besides Militech Special Ops or the New United States Bureau of Interconnected Affairs?”
“What…!
He joined the Bureau of Interconnected Affairs?”
Brown blurted out, the first thought that hit him.
The Bureau usually recruited locally, strong-arming promising talent with threats or bribes.
The kid’s situation sounded similar.
But Amy shook her head slowly, reminding him,
“Look at when he disappeared. Doesn’t it ring a bell?”
“Yeah… now that you mention it, I’ve seen this before…”
Amy cut him off.
“You’re overlooking something. There’s another force in Night City that can blind us…
And that’s us.
Stop guessing. That timing? That was exactly when our dear V was handling something big.
Seems this kid from Arasaka Academy has good luck—he’s already tied back into Arasaka.
But… he’s unlucky too. He chose the wrong guide.”
Her words slid out, venomous. Brown hesitated.
“Are we sure… about this?
V’s insane. She hates it when anyone touches the people around her.”
“Hmph!”
A sharp snort. Amy’s cold stare pinned him in place, making him shrink.
“Insane?
Who in Arasaka isn’t?
Abernathy, Jenkins, you, me—we’re all mad.
And V? That little bitch walked away. There’s no place for her in Arasaka Tower anymore.”
Amy was nearly fifty. V had joined the company at seventeen and, in just six years, climbed far beyond her reach.
To Amy, it was unbearably unfair.
“What a waste of that pretty face. Wonder how filthy she really is behind closed doors…”
Jealousy festered inside her, driving her to betray Jenkins and willingly become Abernathy’s pawn.
...
Meanwhile, on the terrace above the ballroom, Arthur and V had been sprawled out the whole time, perfectly at ease.
“We nailed that last job. If nothing goes wrong, I can use it to move up. Maybe then I won’t be this exhausted.”
V’s voice carried a faint note of satisfaction as she looked out at the dark sky.
“So… is it just that you’re busy lately?
Or have you always been like this?”
Arthur asked. Since V’s vacation ended, she hadn’t shown her face once—like she’d vanished.
“Ugh…”
Thinking back on the past few days made V bristle. She let her frustration out.
“I was off for a few days, and Jenkins buried me under a mountain of work.
Damn idiot, whatever’s in that head of his, it’s nothing but stupidity and recklessness.”
As they talked, a group of three wandered over, stinking of alcohol.
“You two have been here long enough.
This isn’t your house.”
Two men and a woman, all in Arasaka’s signature look—tight black suits with red lapels, fitted trousers, and shoes polished to a mirror shine.
“But it’s not your house either.
So don’t start trouble.”
V drawled, unimpressed.
The men clearly knew who she was but kept up appearances, shifting their attention to Arthur.
“Kid, you like hiding behind a woman?”
Arthur blinked, baffled.
At a so-called high-class ball, this kind of drunken provocation was the last thing he expected.
Suppressing his confusion, he sat up slowly.
The corpo dogs had picked the wrong man.
His massive frame loomed over them, casting a shadow that swallowed the two men whole.
One rough, calloused hand clamped down on a shoulder.
“Here’s the situation.
This lovely lady and I are having a conversation. We don’t want interruptions.
That’s clear enough for everyone, isn’t it?”
His gravelly voice pressed down like a weight.
The man struggled weakly, but Arthur’s grip didn’t budge.
“This is company property!”
The man barked, his voice hollow, like a cornered mutt.
“Uh…”
Arthur closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his furrowed brow held back something dangerous.
He shoved a hand between them.
“Listen, friend.
I’m a rough man—out in the wild, or in your so-called civilized society.
I kill people. I’m damn good at it.
Now… if you piss me off again, I’ll kill you, then toss you off this terrace.”
He said it like he was talking about the weather.
His rasping voice cut like a bone-saw. The man saw death in his eyes and shut his mouth.
Arthur spotted a cigar tucked in the man’s suit pocket. He let go and plucked it out.
Holding it, he gestured toward the far end of the terrace.
The three bolted, as if they’d grown extra legs.
“What the hell was that? I thought high-class balls were full of phony elites.”
Arthur flopped back down, cigar in hand.
“They’re from Special Operations, Abernathy’s men.
Came to throw me off balance?
That’s childish. Doesn’t sound like her—she’s a snake, always terrifyingly quiet.
Clearly, those guys acted on their own.”
“Got it. Like dogs yanked on a leash—just had to bark a bit.”
Arthur summed it up neatly.
“Ha… true enough.”
V laughed at his blunt metaphor.
“Looks like you’re not just good at teasing friends.
If you aimed that wit outward, you’d be even more likable.”
“Alright, alright. I should compliment you more. Like…”
Arthur hesitated for a beat.
“Like saying you’re as pretty as a white peacock—decent enough to look at, but with a voice that grates…”
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