Arthur blinked after hearing Placid's words.
Wait a minute... How could even a moron like Placid guess my plan?
No, something was wrong.
This didn't match Placid's usual style at all.
Hadn't he always been just Maman's attack dog?
Was he trying to usurp the throne now?
Arthur scratched his head and muttered to Lucy, "Is my plan that obvious?"
Lucy almost choked on her cigarette.
"He's joking, you idiot! If you have time to ask stupid questions, you might want to shoot back — those bastards are about to crawl over here."
She slapped another magazine into her pistol with a loud clack and cursed under her breath.
Lucy now deeply, deeply regretted tagging along.
She should have listened to Maine instead of Dorio.
Where was the girl-power friendship they promised?
This wasn't "girls help girls" — this was girls get dragged into Arthur's clown show and shot at!
Arthur, unfazed, shouted back at Placid:
"Placid! Since when did you get so smart? Planning to run for Voodoo Gang leader now?"
Far away, Placid folded his arms across his massive chest and scowled.
Was that idiot Arthur... actually serious?
Did he really call the cops?
Placid's jaw twitched.
No fun arguing with lunatics.
He let out a long, heavy sigh and muttered, "God dragged Arthur's body back from hell, but he forgot to bring back his brain."
He turned to his men and grunted, "Whatever. Just kill him. I still have a chicken at home that needs chopping."
Without waiting for a reply, Placid spun around and walked off.
One of his men scratched his head, confused.
Wait, weren't we supposed to chop Arthur up into dog food?
When did it turn into dinner plans?
Still, it was a chance to earn credit.
The eager gangsters rushed forward.
"BANG—!!"
A deafening roar shook the sky, and the next moment the street exploded in gunfire.
"BRRRRRRT!!!"
Anti-aircraft heavy machine guns — meant for vehicles — shredded the Voodoo Boys into bloody chunks.
The unlucky gangster who dreamed of promotion was torn apart mid-step, vanishing into a cloud of red mist.
Thirty-centimeter wide craters pocked the ground.
It was like someone had dumped a high-caliber warzone right on top of Taipingzhou.
From above, shadowy figures free-fell at terminal velocity, slamming into the earth without parachutes.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Smoke and dust billowed into the air, shrouding everything in choking grayness.
Lucy cursed and stumbled back, nearly blinded.
Arthur calmly stood up behind the Sword in the Stone, took out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply.
The glowing ember cut through the haze as he exhaled slowly.
He smiled.
"Looks like the bugs in Night City are still efficient after all.
Almost makes me feel guilty for paying them taxes."
"KLANG—!"
Sparks showered in front of him.
Arthur raised his right arm — the mantis blade deployed with a crisp mechanical snap.
Through the flying sparks, he caught sight of a familiar armored figure.
Melissa.
Helmeted, armed, and absolutely fuming.
Arthur sighed.
"Melissa, you're way too enthusiastic.
Couldn't you wait a little?
I said I'd visit after work, didn't I?"
Melissa, her voice crackling through her helmet speakers, snarled:
"F**k you! You ditched me to date your little girlfriend!
Back to Night City for just a few days and you're already picking up new girls?
Good! Guess it's time for me to castrate you, lock you up, and keep you properly!"
Arthur instinctively backed up, mantis blade poised.
Sweet mother of God, she's still crazy.
He knew Night City's psych ward couldn't have cured her.
No wonder the Terrorist Mobile Team was such a disaster.
"This isn't my girlfriend!" Arthur snapped, dodging her swipe.
"She's my chief network consultant!
I'm starting a company!
You know, being a proper corporate dog for once?"
Melissa paused mid-attack, skeptical.
Arthur puffed his cigarette and added, deadpan:
"And by the way, you haven't changed a bit.
Your mouth still sounds like the river sewage in Heywood — colorful, polluted, and full of strange floating objects."
Melissa grunted, sliding her Higurashi blade back into its housing.
She gave him a look that said You're still full of shit, but maybe I'll let you live for now.
Arthur exhaled again, relaxing slightly but keeping his mantis blade ready — just in case.
Meanwhile, Lucy stared in horror at the scene unfolding around her.
Terrorist Mobile Team operatives — big, armored, and completely unhinged — were tearing through the Voodoo Boys like kids in a candy store.
Smart rifles barked endless streams of gunfire.
Mantis blades flashed silver in the smoke.
Gangsters were being dismembered faster than rats in a meat grinder.
Within seconds, the ground was littered with mangled bodies.
Lucy gagged and turned pale.
Arthur, still smoking casually, muttered:
"You know, Melissa, you really should take these young lads to the Ritz Bar.
Their energy is off the charts.
Might help them... cool off."
Melissa chuckled darkly, considering it.
"Boss Susie wouldn't let them in," she said.
"She doesn't like hosting hormonal mutts.
No entrepreneurial spirit at all!"
Arthur shook his head sadly.
"A tragedy. So many energetic young men in desperate need of... professional relief."
Melissa just snorted and waved her hand.
The slaughter continued without missing a beat.
Arthur leaned against the Sword in the Stone, smiling lazily at the bloody chaos around him.
In Night City, some things never changed.