Chapter 115
"Ahhh!"
The scream cut through the air like a tear in reality. The robber, face twisted in disbelief, dropped his weapon and lunged for the window.
He'd seen it. That wasn't his father. That grotesque smile on the bald thug standing beside his mother—the very image of Night City sleaze. It sent him spiraling.
He kicked open the security shield with the desperation of a man betrayed by fate and family. A pistol trembled in his hand.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Three shots cracked into the air, echoing off the glass and chrome of the surrounding buildings. But not one hit its mark. Whether it was panic or lack of skill, his aim was all over the place. River Ward, still shirtless and smiling like a walking felony, didn't even flinch.
A split second later, the crack of a sniper rifle pierced the tension.
One bullet. Clean. Precise.
The robber's head snapped back, and he collapsed forward like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood sprayed onto the pavement in a grotesque fan, pooling by his boots. His eyes, wide and distant, locked on his mother one last time before dulling completely.
Arthur let out a long sigh and tossed the megaphone to the young cop standing frozen beside him. Then, with practiced ease, he slid a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a flick.
David stood rooted behind him, face pale, eyes fixed on the growing puddle of red.