Chapter 21: Children’s Safety Is the Most Important
"Don't say that. The doctor's really good," David argued sincerely. "He doesn't have a license, but that's only because he never took the exam. He's taught me a lot about tech, and we swap bd software all the time."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "A guy who can't bring the dead back is a 'great doctor'? Kid, the only person who can do that is a necromancer."
David blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected his father's definition of medical excellence to sound like a comic book pitch. For a second, he imagined every doctor in Night City bowing in shame to Arthur's outrageous standards.
"And this so-called 'doctor' can't even take down a scav in a fistfight," Arthur continued, smirking. "What kind of doc is that?"
David frowned. "He's a doctor. He doesn't need to fight! Are we giving out medical degrees for MMA wins now?"
Arthur shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, preparing to give another one of his infamous Night City life lessons. Before he could light it, Gloria snatched it away and tossed it into the trash.
Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, too used to this to complain. Then he turned back to David.
"Look, kid. A real good prosthetic doc in Night City isn't just good with tools—they're dangerous," Arthur said, his tone serious. "Take Victor, for example. He saved your mother's life. Wears nerd glasses, quiet voice, polite... but that man used to be a damn boxing champ. One punch from him? Night-night."
He leaned back, a wistful grin on his face. "If Victor had kept fighting, half the bars in the city would be named after him. That dark corner of his clinic? Full of trophies. His medical certificates are just gathering dust in some drawer."