"Originally... I'd already struck a deal with the leader of the Maelstrom gang—paid them to buy that robot.
But you know those Maelstrom lunatics... anything can happen. In just a few days, they had internal trouble. The old boss got taken out by his own people.
The new boss doesn't seem too interested in honoring the deal... so... you'll have to go talk it over. Just make sure we get the thing back.
Think of it as extra work. Money-wise, I can add ten percent—your cut will be forty percent. Consider it compensation..."
DeShawn tapped the table, pulling their attention back to him.
"By the way, that robot's called "Little Flathead". Funny name, huh? So? I'd say my offer's pretty sincere."
"Forty percent... meaning... maybe we could push for more? Breaking into Konpeki Plaza isn't exactly easy. What comes out of Arasaka's barrels sure ain't flowers."
Jackie was still his usual loud, showy self. DeShawn shot Arthur a glance, his tone dropping.
"I decide how the profits are split! Got it? You've already gotten what you deserve. That's your worth."
Arthur grabbed his hat off the table and stared him down.
"That's how partnerships work. If we can't agree, we walk... Trust me, no one will ever know what happened here."
His raspy words left the room in heavy silence...
Finally, DeShawn broke it. He pulled a wooden box from beneath the table, took out a cigar, clipped the cap, flicked his wrist, and offered it to Arthur.
"Add half a percent..."
The heavyset man's face didn't change, but the words made it clear—there was no room for negotiation.
Without hesitation, Arthur accepted. The tension lifted like smoke.
He raised the cigar toward him, lit it, and said, "To our deal."
"Ha ha..."
Laughing as he stood, DeShawn clapped his hands lightly. His smile seemed completely genuine.
"Not bad. Haggling with me over the cut... not many have the guts.
Blame those old fossils in Night City... true or not, their bullshit sounds so sweet it's thrown the whole Fixer game out of whack.
Not with me... I say forty-five percent, and not a single eddie gets skimmed.
So... to our deal."
As if remembering something, the big man patted the shoulder of the woman beside him and introduced her.
"This here's the netrunner for our op. Get familiar—it'll help build some rapport for what's coming.
And remember that Flathead job—get that appetizer served quick. The main course is right around the corner, and we can't afford to miss it fresh."
At last, the quiet black girl who'd been sitting beside Dexter stirred. She stood from the dark sofa and extended a hand to Jackie.
After a quick shake, she spoke.
"T-Bug. That's my name. Hope we work well together.
Oh—and when you go meet the client, take me along... I know a thing or two about blackwall's twists and turns."
Arthur and Jackie nodded, stood, and got ready to leave.
Looking at DeShawn's ever-present smile, Arthur tossed a final line before stepping out.
"The problem will be solved soon..."
...
By the time they got outside, the sun had vanished. But this was Night City—its nights were far more dazzling than its days.
Neon lights spread into glowing rings, fading into hazy halos that painted the city in colors words couldn't capture.
"Perfect timing. Let's check out your new ride... Damn, this thing's gorgeous...
Maybe I'll give it a spin..."
Without waiting for Arthur's answer, Jackie had already swung open the driver's door. He knew his old friend wasn't a fan of driving.
The engine's roar stayed outside as the low-key sports car slipped into traffic.
"What do you think... Pretty solid, right?
As for the commission, we'll each walk away with at least 150,000 eddies, no problem."
Jackie gripped the wheel, his voice buzzing with excitement.
In the passenger seat, Arthur stubbed out the half-smoked cigar in the ashtray and replied,
"This job's tied to Arasaka... risk's not exactly low."
"Come on, where're you gonna find a gig without risk? This is the life we chose."
Jackie weaved through traffic, still talking.
"Besides... if we pull this off, we'll build a rep. Jobs will come chasing us, and we'll be the ones picking and choosing."
"Let's just hope it goes smoothly..."
Arthur didn't argue, just thought back on the meeting.
Damn it, he wasn't cut out for this kind of work... thinking was a hell of a lot harder than pulling a trigger.
"By the way, where we headed? Back to the base, or home?"
Still holding the wheel, Jackie suddenly realized he hadn't asked. He had no idea which way to turn.
"Where you going? Drop yourself off at home first—before Mama Welles or Misty calls me asking where the hell you went."
Arthur, still thinking about the job, added,
"As for me... I've got something else to handle later."
That Flathead... turned out to be Militech tech. Trouble, but easier to trace on Arthur's end.
"Alright... been running around nonstop these past days. Gotta go spend some time with Misty...
Sigh! That girl's stubborn, and her mom too... always butting in about how other people's daughters dress.
What a pain!"
Jackie grumbled, swinging the car toward Vik's clinic.
"Hey, you wanna catch up with Vik? We were drinking just the other day, and now he won't shut up about you.
That guy... he's just like my mom. No wonder he 'sold me out' not long ago."
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head.
"If it weren't for Vik patching you up... you'd still be lying at home, waiting for your mom to change your diapers.
Haha, looks like that old man's still got plenty of skill, huh?"