This was why so many people were willing to risk their lives, pulling every string and selling everything they had, just to send their kids to Arasaka Academy.
Top-notch learning equipment.
Top-notch networking opportunities.
Top-notch brainwashing.
After escorting Arthur to the computer room, the principal had only stayed for a brief moment before hurrying away — clearly not expecting much from him.
Arthur, however, stood calmly in the middle of the trashed room, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Alright... let's see. Physical hardware? Busted, but salvageable. System? Virus infestation. Looks nasty."
Arthur crouched, popping open a control panel like he was cracking open a cold beer.
Inside, it was a disaster zone — melted chips, fried data lines, and the lingering smell of burnt circuits.
"Amateurs," Arthur muttered with a sneer, fishing a screwdriver out of his tool belt.
A few shorted lines here, a bypass there, and with a satisfying click, the green classroom's core flickered back to life.
The lights overhead buzzed faintly, and the massive room's holo-projectors stuttered back into operation — albeit projecting absolute gibberish.
The physical damage was handled.
But the virus?
It had tangled the classroom software like a cat trapped in a yarn factory.
Arthur squinted at the chaotic projections, pulled out his phone, and made a call.
Ring... Ring...
"Arthur, what the hell do you want again?" Lucy's grumpy voice answered on the third ring.
"I've got a minor job for you. Just a little poison control," Arthur said nonchalantly, twirling a data cable around his finger.
Lucy immediately froze.
Wait, minor?
No high-risk company infiltration? No firefights with corpo kill squads?
Was Arthur... getting responsible?
"What kind of poison?" Lucy asked suspiciously.
"Just a classroom virus clean-up. Simple disinfecting.
I already handled the hardware.
You just need to scrub the system."
"...Where are you?"
"Arasaka Academy."
Silence.
Then a screeching noise so loud Arthur had to pull the phone away from his ear.
"Arthur, you crazy son of a—! You're working for Arasaka now?!"
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Relax, it's not like I'm wearing a suit and saying 'Banzai' every morning.
Just a virus clean-up. The principal begged me.
No network monitoring, no security sweep, no kill teams."
Lucy groaned.
"You are seriously cursed. I must've been your mistress in a past life to owe you this much karma."
Still, a few minutes later, a file transfer popped into Arthur's inbox — a disinfecting patch program coded by Lucy herself.
And a little surprise gift.
Arthur smiled.
"By the way," he added before Lucy could hang up, "while you're in there, leave a special treat for a guy named Katsuo Tanaka."
Lucy sighed heavily, but she listened.
"Every time he logs in, randomly trigger an event that strips his virtual clothes.
Not immediately — randomize it.
Every three to five days, minimum.
Maximum, one week.
No school uniform, no dignity. Full public humiliation."
"...Arthur, you're such a f**king child."
"I'm not a child.
I'm a public service."
Lucy muttered something about finding a new job — one without crazy clients — but the line went dead a moment later.
Arthur uploaded the patch into the system.
The classroom's gibberish projections flickered once... twice...
And then smoothly reformed into the standard Arasaka Green Curriculum holograms.
Perfect.
Arthur whistled as he closed up the panel and dusted off his hands.
Honestly, at first, he'd wanted to kill Katsuo Tanaka outright.
But in Night City, adults didn't kill unless they could cover the consequences.
If you murdered someone, you'd better be damn sure nobody could trace it back to you — or that the risk was worth it.
Ruining Tanaka's social life for the next decade?
That was much cleaner.
Arthur grinned to himself.
Now Katsuo would either drop out in shame or become a permanent legend for the wrong reasons.
Either way: Mission Accomplished.
Just then, the green classroom's lights brightened.
A soft mechanical hum filled the air.
Arthur looked up.
From the center of the classroom, a holographic figure materialized — a synthetic teacher, Arasaka Academy's in-house AI.
The AI's visual projection was that of a neatly dressed professor, glasses perched on a perfectly symmetrical nose.
It bowed slightly to Arthur.
"You must be Mr. Arthur," it said in a smooth voice.
"Your skill is extraordinary.
Repairing and disinfecting such a complex system in such a short time is... remarkable."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"Thanks, I guess."
The AI continued, its digital gaze sharp:
"According to our system records, your family's financial resources are limited."
"I wonder — have you ever considered working for the Arasaka Group for the rest of your life?"
Arthur froze.
...
He nearly threw the screwdriver at the hologram.
"Are you nuts?!" Arthur snapped.
"Work for Arasaka? For life? Do I look suicidal?"
The AI tilted its head curiously.
"Arasaka Group provides industry-leading benefits, stable employment, and competitive compensation packages—"
Arthur interrupted with a scoff.
"Stable employment?
You mean until the next budget cut or until my cyberware turns me into a liability?"
He jabbed a thumb toward the window.
"I'd rather take my chances with the gutter rats in Santo Domingo, thanks."
The AI paused, then offered politely:
"If you change your mind, we can guarantee you the most generous treatment available."
Arthur muttered under his breath, "Yeah, double rations of expired kibble and a free coffee every third Thursday."
No thanks.
Before he left, Arthur had a sudden thought.
He turned back and asked, "By the way, do you know a guy named Delamain? Runs the taxi company?"
The AI processed for a second.
"I am aware of Mr. Delamain.
We have not met personally.
However, should an opportunity arise, I would be interested in a conversation."
Arthur grinned.
"Good to know. Might introduce you two sometime. Could be fun."
He waved lazily and opened the door.
Behind him, the AI called out politely:
"Please reconsider joining the Arasaka Group.
Our future is brighter together."
Arthur snorted.
In Night City, the only bright future waiting was a muzzle flash to the face.
He stepped into the hallway, leaving the polite corporate AI and its soulless sales pitch behind.
(End of Chapter 43!)