Chapter 15: What Does It Have to Do with Arthur?
The Ritz Bar hit like a punch to the senses. Loud music pulsed through the floorboards, thudding in Arthur's ribs like a second heartbeat. Strobe lights danced across peeling walls. The air was thick with synthetic perfume, cigarette smoke, and the musk of desperation. And somewhere in that noise and grime, business thrived.
Arthur scanned the room as he walked in.
Dancers twirled in glowing wire mesh on raised platforms. Patrons packed booths and neon-lit corners, laughing, arguing, or quietly cutting backdoor deals. Above the bar, a holo-display looped a braindance trailer: "Real Death – Feel It Like It's Yours".
He rolled his eyes. "Subtle as ever."
A familiar voice rose over the music. "About time you showed up."
He turned—and there she was.
Judy Alvarez leaned against the far booth, arms folded, tattoos peeking from under her half-zipped jumpsuit. Her eyes were still those neon-glow optics—tech and soul combined into something unblinking and unnerving.
Arthur grinned. "Still drinking synth whiskey in a tech pit like this? I expected more."
Judy smirked. "Still pretending to be charming in a city that hates you? I expected less."
They hugged briefly—tight, fast, no sentimentality. Night City didn't allow for lingering.
Arthur slid into the booth opposite her and dropped a drive on the table. "Got something for you. Fresh BD footage. First-person cyberpsycho rampage. Raw. Untouched. Full session clocked at twenty-four minutes before I shut him down."