This was also why, in the original history, Panam asked V to help her recover her vehicle.
Because in a wanderer's world, the car is life. It's your arms, your legs, your house, your freedom. Lose it, and you're no better than a cripple.
David's mouth twitched slightly.
He scratched the back of his head, then said, half-joking, half-serious:
"Dad, maybe I should become a man like the wind... like you."
Arthur glanced at him sideways.
Without a word, he raised the motorcycle helmet and slapped it directly onto David's head.
Thunk.
"Kid," Arthur said seriously, "the best I can do if I get thrown out is stand up and chop those bastards clean."
"But you?
If you get thrown off, you'll be lying on the side of the road, splattered, and seeing what color your own brain is."
There are thousands of roads, but safety is always the first rule.
Especially in a place like Night City, where a five-star good citizen might drive a combat AV through a red light at any moment, or a cyberpsycho might appear on the next block wielding mantis blades like a food processor.
One moment of carelessness, and David would go straight to hell, without even the opportunity for his first passionate love affair with Adam Smasher.
Arthur shook his head. Tragic.
Soon, they pulled up on the motorcycle at the entrance of Arasaka Academy.
Arthur found a parking spot — a battered van that nobody would look twice at — killed the engine, pulled out the keys, and without any ceremony, tossed them into David's hands.
Arthur wasn't particularly fond of motorcycles.
Sure, the wind in your face was nice. Sure, it felt "free."
But motorcycles couldn't carry gear.
And soon, Arthur's "work" was going to get heavier and dirtier.
He'd need a real steel monster: armored, adaptable, able to carry equipment, spare weapons, even wounded friends.
Not a meat-wrapped iron coffin like this.
David blinked.
"...Why?"
Arthur just shrugged casually and smiled.
"It's yours."
"A belated birthday present for all those years I missed."
"Just remember — don't blow it up. This thing is a gift from the wanderers. It's practically sacred."
David immediately beamed with excitement, carefully slipping the key into his waistband like a treasure.
At that moment, a middle-aged man wearing thin glasses and a standard-issue Arasaka suit came striding out from the school.
When he saw David, he paused for half a second, as if recognizing him.
Then, surprisingly, he turned and walked straight toward Arthur.
"Hello?"
Arthur frowned slightly.
Why does he look like a dog but still smile so humbly?
It wasn't hard to guess: polite surface, smug underneath —
Classic Neon Man.
"Hello," Arthur responded lazily. "Do I know you?"
The man bowed slightly, a professional curve of the spine.
"I'm the principal of Arasaka Academy. Are you David's father?"
Arthur scratched the back of his head.
"Yeah.
Was overseas for treatment. Just got back."
"Ah, so that's it!"
The principal's smile grew brighter — but so did the arrogance behind his glasses.
"Actually, I wanted to discuss the matter of compensation for the... unfortunate incident caused by David previously."
Arthur blinked.
Oh yeah, right — that thing.
Before he came back, David had used a second-rate black market virus to sabotage some of the school's expensive Mewtwo gear.
Gloria had told him vaguely. Arthur hadn't really paid attention at the time.
No big deal.
Happens every day in Night City.
"Well," Arthur said lazily, "coincidentally, I have a few things I wanted to discuss with your school too."
He glanced meaningfully around the filthy street outside the prestigious Arasaka Academy gates — piles of trash, faint bloodstains, and a few passed-out junkies.
"Not really a good place to talk business, yeah?"
The principal nodded hurriedly.
"Indeed, indeed. My apologies for such poor hospitality.
Please, this way."
Arthur waved goodbye to David, who just grinned and waved back, totally unbothered.
He trusted his cheap dad completely.
If worst came to worst, David could just drop out of the academy and follow Arthur into cyberpunk life.
Compared to being a corporate slave, that sounded way more exciting anyway.
After a short walk, Arthur arrived at the principal's office.
The moment he stepped in, Arthur couldn't help but arch an eyebrow.
The office was... lavish.
A genuine hardwood desk, priceless wall scrolls, an authentic neon mainland tea set —
Real, organic tea leaves.
Not that recycled garbage sold in Night City supermarkets.
Arthur sat down casually.
The principal even served him a steaming cup of tea with his own hands.
Arthur took a sip —
"Ahhh~"
The fragrant taste instantly melted into his bones.
"I haven't tasted tea like this in a long time," Arthur said sincerely.
"The garbage sold in Night City tastes worse than dishwater."
The principal smiled politely, but secretly wiped his sweat.
This wasn't the same attitude he had when Gloria came before.
(When Gloria had come to discuss David's tuition, the principal hadn't even offered her a glass of tap water.)
Arthur's body was fully loaded with implants.
He looked dangerous.
He looked wealthy.
In Night City, that meant respect.
"As long as you enjoy it," the principal said.
"This is genuine neon mainland tea. I don't have much left myself."
Arthur nodded and leaned back leisurely.
"Actually," Arthur said, swirling the cup, "I came to talk about something important."
The principal straightened his back attentively.
"I think... your Arasaka Academy has a huge problem."
The principal froze.
"Problem?"
Arthur gestured broadly at the chaotic street outside.
"Crime's getting worse in Night City.
Gangs are fighting.
Shootouts every night.
Cyberpsychos running around like wild dogs."
The principal nodded awkwardly.
Even when he went out, he could occasionally see lunatics spraying bullets into the air —
sometimes into pedestrians, too.
"Now..." Arthur said slowly, "don't you think, for the safety of your students... you should build dormitories on campus?"
The principal's expression stiffened.
Dormitories?
Land prices in central Night City were astronomical.
Building dormitories would be like throwing piles of cash into a bonfire.
Besides, public transportation was efficient enough that students could easily commute from the Badlands if they really wanted.
"We currently believe," the principal said cautiously, "that our public transit and security measures are sufficient—"
Arthur cut him off with a casual wave.
"You sure about that?"
"Two days ago, my kid almost got kidnapped five streets away.
Just today, I saw a cyberpsycho hacking a vending machine until it shot cans at pedestrians."
Arthur leaned forward, voice low and dangerous.
"You really think it's 'safe enough'?
You really want the Arasaka Academy to make headlines...
because a student got torn apart before his morning class?"
The principal broke into cold sweat.
In Night City, bad headlines kill faster than bullets.
If something happened to a student, Arasaka Corporation's wrath would flatten this place like a bug under a hammer.
Arthur sat back again and smiled lightly.
"Think about it, Principal."
"A small investment now — a few dormitories inside secure walls —
could save you a hell of a lot of lawsuits and bad press later."
"And wouldn't the parents feel safer too?"
"And safer parents... means more tuition payments."
Arthur smiled wider.
"In fact... it could even be a selling point."
"Arasaka Academy — Protecting the Future!"
The principal opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
He struggled internally.
But Arthur knew he had already won.
(End of Chapter 41!)