Cyberpunk Patriarch

The echo of a single gunshot, followed by the soft splatter of blood, marked the end of Joanne's wretched existence. Her body slumped to the floor, and the silence that followed was heavy with finality.

Arthur didn't flinch. He simply lit a cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling slowly. In Night City, death was just part of the background noise. The dead don't matter. Only the living remember—and even that is temporary.

He had barely taken his first puff when his holo-screen lit up, vibrating with an incoming call. He frowned slightly—Rogue.

"Shit..." he muttered. "Now what?"

He hadn't expected Rogue to call, not this soon, not after he'd just dealt with the mess. That could only mean one thing—more mess.

Saul was still rambling behind him, going on about how Arthur's stories could make a bestselling book. Arthur half-listened as he stepped into the elevator with Saul and the survivor. As the doors slid shut, he answered the call.

"What's up, Queen of the Afterlife?" Arthur said with his usual smirk. "Miss me already?"

"Arthur, what the hell have you done now?" Rogue's voice was sharp and irritated. "I heard Joanne's dead. Tell me it's not true."

Arthur shrugged, though she couldn't see it. "Oh, she's dead alright. Very artistically, might I add. I'd give the scene a solid eight out of ten."

"You idiot," she hissed. "You really went and did it. Do you have any idea who she was?"

"I figured she was just another suit in biotech," Arthur replied casually, stepping off the elevator as it reached the lobby.