As for whether you could actually return to work after buying a prosthetic on loan?
That all depended on the boss's conscience —
And in Night City, a boss with a conscience was rarer than a virgin on Jig-Jig Street.
Most companies were happy to take their kickback for approving your implant loan.
After that?
They'd boot your chrome-plated ass to the curb — faster than you could say "monthly payment."
Because once you defaulted, it wasn't the company's problem anymore.
After leaving Arasaka Academy, Arthur felt a rare sense of peace.
In the principal's office, meanwhile, Marcus the principal was scribbling feverishly, finalizing a construction plan for Arasaka Academy's brand-new dormitories.
In between signing papers, Marcus scratched his head and mumbled:
"That Mr. Arthur... It really doesn't make sense."
Teacher Luyin — the academy's bleeding-edge AI classroom system — was so advanced even top engineers from Militech needed days to crack its design.
Yet Arthur had waltzed in and fixed it all within half an hour.
"If he really knew that much, his family wouldn't be so poor, right?"
Marcus thought about it for a few seconds —
Then shrugged.
"Forget it.
Record this in my personal memo.
Maybe it'll come in handy later."
He had no intention of reporting it to higher-ups.
You don't survive long inside Arasaka by being a loyal dog.
You survive by holding leverage — and knowing when to use it.
Meanwhile, Arthur had already arrived in Little Chinatown.
He needed to pick up some supplies from Lao Wei's place and start building a prototype suppressor.
Even though he could've leaned on other mechanical experts...
He was a mechanical expert now.
The prototype was essential.
In Night City, no one believed words — only results.
If you couldn't shove your miracle product directly into someone's face and make it work, you might as well pack up and go home.
Arthur looked around and realized where he was.
Right in front of Misty's Psychic Cabin.
He scratched the back of his head.
How the hell does a fortune-telling shop stay in business in 2076?
Especially in Night City, where tech ruled everything?
Still, no matter the era, pretending to be a spooky psychic was always profitable.
Arthur pushed the door open.
The moment he stepped inside, a thick cloud of incense-smoke — easily a Class-S air pollutant — smacked him in the face.
In fact, talking about PM2.5 levels in Night City was almost cute.
The local air quality made Beijing's worst smog days look like a mountain retreat.
The psychic shop was filled with hanging trinkets, odd statues, and dim, flickering lights that gave the whole place a "haunted but make it trendy" vibe.
Oh, and how could he forget the shop's specialty?
A "separation chip" for "safely navigating the Book of the Dead."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Hi there," a light, cheerful voice chimed.
"You seem a little anxious?"
Arthur turned his head.
A girl with a wild afro, dressed in Gothic-style clothes, was walking toward him — her steps totally silent on the creaky floorboards.
Misty.
One of the few peaceful people in Night City —
And Victor's right-hand girl when he wasn't busy sawing off limbs in the basement.
Arthur stiffened for a second.
Damn, how did she walk without making a sound?
Was she human... or something else?
Night City had no shortage of bizarre rumors about mystical forces lurking under the neon.
He quickly shook the thought away.
Probably just good boots.
"I'm not here for a reading," Arthur said, flashing a polite smile.
"I'm here to see Lao Wei."
Misty nodded serenely, totally unbothered.
"You can head to the basement through the back," she said, pointing toward a beaded curtain.
"But Lao Wei's a little busy right now.
While you wait... would you like a divination?"
Arthur almost laughed.
Now this was a professional sales pitch.
Way better than the usual street vendors screaming,
"Bleach your mother!"
or
"Buy it or f**k off!"
In fact, most of Night City's "customer service" involved either threats or fists.
Even Lao Wei had famously beaten a customer so badly the guy had to crawl back to his ripperdoc.
Arthur chuckled.
Night City folks sure were... wholesome.
He waved Misty off with a chuckle.
"Thanks, but no thanks.
I've got a mountain of work today.
Next time, I promise."
Misty tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"You don't believe in fortune-telling?"
Arthur scratched the back of his head.
"It's not that.
It's just...
Life's fun because it's unpredictable.
We're already puppets on corpo strings.
Why would I tie another string around my neck — even if it's destiny's?"
"Sometimes," he added, voice softening,
"knowing too much just makes life heavier."
Misty blinked.
Then — surprisingly — smiled.
"Interesting perspective," she said.
"I'll have to remember that."
Arthur returned her smile and slipped through the back curtain.
Down in the basement, things were... chaotic.
Arthur immediately heard screams and crashing sounds echoing off the concrete walls.
It sounded like someone had kidnapped a pig and was trying to forcibly install cyberware onto it.
"¡Mamma mía, hombre! Be gentle! I think my arms are falling off!" a man screamed in accented Spanish.
"You idiot! Your arms were already falling off!" Lao Wei's gruff voice shot back.
"If you weren't lucky, you'd be walking around with iron pipes for limbs!"
"But hombre... can't I get one of those gorilla arms?"
"Gorilla arms your ass!
This is Night City, not a zoo!
You want Johnny Silverhand's old rust-bucket model or nothing!"
"Maybe... maybe I'll just keep my own arms."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh.
Same old Lao Wei.
Even in a city where cyberware was the norm, the basement ripperdocs were still very much "bargain-bin surgery meets medieval torture chamber."
Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, smiling faintly.
It was just another day in Night City.
Screams, smoke, dreams, and chaos.
Always chaos.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.