Chapter 40 - 39: Please Build Dormitories For The Safety of Students!
After a simple dinner, the household settled down for the night. Arthur lay in bed, his mind spinning with thoughts. One hand absently held Gloria, shifting her up and down—not for any real reason, just to keep busy. Even if he couldn't feel hunger anymore, the tactile sensation helped ground him.
His eyes drifted toward David, sleeping peacefully on the old sofa nearby. A flicker of irritation crossed Arthur's face. It was time to leave Santo Domingo. The plan to start generating real income was finally coming together. The suppressor chip would be distributed through black-market channels—accessible to cyberpunks and civilians alike.
The company hadn't been officially registered yet, but that was the least of Arthur's concerns. He'd sell first and file for certification later. After all, that was how corporations in Night City operated—rules were more like loose guidelines. The average citizen wouldn't bat an eye unless something exploded in their face.
But the real problem wasn't legality. It was the Animal Gang. Arthur hated dealing with them. They were all roided-up slabs of muscle with more brawn than brains. Worse than the Voodoo Boys in his opinion—at least the Voodoo gang had a plan, twisted as it was.
He let out a sigh. Wasn't this supposed to be a step toward leaving chaos behind? Yet everything seemed messier by the day. His gaze shifted back to Gloria. Leaning in close, he whispered something quietly in her ear.
Her face immediately flushed. She glanced at David, still fast asleep, and quickly pulled the covers up to her neck. A soft hiss followed, accompanied by the quiet clink of metal. A moment later, the subtle mechanical hum of a neural jack disconnecting broke the silence.
The next morning, Arthur rose groggily. He rubbed his temples, still feeling the effects of the previous night. Gloria had nearly bolted on him—things had escalated faster than expected. If he hadn't exercised control, they might've woken up to one very awkward family breakfast.
Gloria was distant this morning. Her expression as she glanced at David was sharp, verging on cold. David, still gnawing on a piece of synthetic bread, caught her look and froze mid-bite.
"Did Mom just look at me like I'm trash?" he mumbled to himself.