Chapter 79: Conspiracy

Inside the dimly lit car, Faraday waited quietly for a response.
As always, Night City had no shortage of Fixers. If the other side refused to cooperate, he would eventually find someone else.

After a long silence, Kirk’s voice finally came through the comms.
“Alright, come to Heywood, Vista del Rey, Wild Wolf Bar.
You know I handle all my deals there.
A small fry like me wouldn’t dare stir trouble under the Voodoo Boys’ noses.”

The sedan cut a dark silhouette through the night, swerving sharply as it headed toward Heywood.

...

Wild Wolf Bar. Dull rock-punk music pulsed beneath flashing lights. The ceramic-tiled walls looked old, their seams blackened by years of grime.
Some spots bore murals of skulls—grotesque yet oddly playful—illuminated by neon signs hanging from the ceiling.

Carefully stepping around the filthy debris scattered across the floor, Faraday felt less disgust than he once would have. He had always hated this grimy underworld aesthetic, but tonight his mood was different.
It felt like the life he truly longed for was finally starting to open up before him.

Upstairs, the second floor offered a space for people seeking quiet. The loud rock music below was muffled, fading to a distant hum.
In one of the semi-private booths with decent soundproofing, Faraday found the man he had come for.

Kirk sat holding an oversized newspaper, pretending to read.

“I remember, you bastard...
You never were the type to read with your eyes.”

Stopping a few steps away, Faraday’s darkly amused words cut into the act.

“Seems you still know me well, my friend.”

With a smirk, Kirk spread the paper wide and tapped at a page.
“I’m already looking at new cars, baby.”

Ever since Faraday had made secret connections with Militech, Kirk had watched his life grow more comfortable.
As for all that talk about principles? That was just Padre’s old rules for Heywood—nothing Kirk cared about.
And the supposed danger? More bullshit. Faraday had been working with Militech for over three years and was still alive and well.

Faraday grinned at the sight, sliding into the booth.
“What’s this? You might be a scumbag, but I remember you used to idolize the Padre.”

He clasped his fingers together on the table, trying to project authority.
“Didn’t Padre work with the corps too? In the end, sticking to his bullshit principles only lost him piles of money.
And for what? To protect a bunch of dumb mercs?
That’s laughable. Even if we didn’t sell them out, they’d still end up dead at the hands of some cyberpsycho on the street. Better they contribute to us—at least then their deaths mean something.”

Kirk leaned back on the sofa, cigarette in hand, his slicked-back hair shifting as he chuckled.
“See? I’ve always said we’re cut from the same cloth.”

Faraday nodded in satisfaction, taking the chance to jab at an old rival.
“The Padre’s just a relic now. Look at the Valentinos—getting chased all over by those slick bastards in the 6th Street Gang.”

Kirk didn’t respond. He was from Pacifica, so Heywood’s chaos was none of his concern.
In fact, the messier things got, the more there was for him to profit from.

Setting the paper aside, he leaned in and asked,
“So tell me—what’s the job? Can it really make me rich?”

Faraday’s expression hardened. After scanning the room, he spoke in a low voice.
“It’s Arasaka business. They’ve got their eyes on some kid. That’s all there is to it.
You know how it works—these corps need test subjects to push their new products to market.
Contributing to technological progress... that’s a pretty valuable way to live, don’t you think?”

He chuckled softly, mocking how insignificant people were.
He relished it—the power to decide another’s fate. It was a thrill born from control.

“You’re bringing this to me?
Sure, sounds simple enough—set a trap, grab a merc.
But...”

His tone hardened, and his glare sharpened.
“If I go along with this, I won’t be able to operate as a Fixer again.”

The Fixer business carried little personal risk, but there were hard lines that could never be crossed.
The most important? Never use a contract as bait to betray a mercenary.
You could trick a rookie into a job that was suicide.
But luring one into a Scav den while pocketing their money? That meant you weren’t a Fixer anymore.

“Just hear me out.”

Faraday gestured for Kirk to calm down before continuing.
“If we pull this off, we’ll be tied to the Company for good.
They promised me that afterward, you and I will have room to thrive under Arasaka. Why cling to the Fixer life?”

“That’s a sweet story, my friend.”

Kirk’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“But I’m no fool. Why not handle it yourself?
Using my escape route to buy yourself a future...
You think I’m that stupid?”

Faraday stayed calm, the smile never leaving his face. He waited for Kirk to finish before replying.

“Things aren’t what you think.
Don’t blame me for keeping my head down. Coming to you was a last resort.”

He paused, then continued.
“The target is a rookie from Maine’s crew. I tried to work out something with one of their netrunners before.
I was confident I could sway her—but that bitch refused.
So Maine’s crew must already be suspicious of me. That’s why I need another Fixer.”

Across the table, Faraday’s three cybereyes gleamed faintly, amusement curling in them. Betrayal seemed to bring him the greatest joy.

“All these years Maine helped you out, and this is how you repay him?”

Kirk narrowed his eyes at the man across from him.

“Helped me?
They were just gigs—what kind of help is that?
Now he’s useless, so he should be ready to be tossed aside.
Night City doesn’t have room for dead weight.”

Faraday’s voice was ice. To him, Maine was nothing but a tool.
All that loyalty and sentiment? A joke. It only made him easier to exploit.

Silence stretched between them.
Kirk’s eyes flickered in the dim light while Faraday sat watching with quiet delight.

“I can’t trust your word...”

Kirk finally laid out his condition.
“I want to contact Arasaka myself. To make sure it’s legit.”

Faraday shrugged, speaking casually.
“Fair enough. We’ll sort that later.
But what you need to decide now is whether you’re in or out.”

From his suit pocket, he pulled a chip and placed it on the table.
He gestured toward it.
“If you’re in, do you want to call Arasaka first—or see for yourself just how easy the target is?”

Kirk studied his expression. The conviction in Faraday’s face eased some of his doubts.

“Alright... let me see this big shot who’s supposed to make us rich.”

He picked up the chip and slotted it into the port at the back of his neck, adding one last warning.
“Remember—I haven’t agreed yet! If I can’t reach Arasaka, I’ll know you’re a fraud.”

Faraday didn’t care about his little games.
Normally, only those who confirmed cooperation would get access to mission intel.
But the moment they broke their principles... they weren’t Fixers anymore, were they?