Bain had just arranged for a few brothers to carry Dexter DeShawn away to a nearby safehouse.
Black Fatty was still unconscious. The surgery had stabilized him, but his body needed rest.
Bain turned to leave the workshop.
"Little Bain," Arthur called calmly, "come lie down too."
Bain blinked. "Huh?"
Arthur leaned against the workbench casually.
"I built something recently. It can significantly improve your thinking speed and reflexes."
Bain's confusion lasted less than a second before his eyes lit up.
"Brother Ji… are you talking about Sandevistan?!" he gasped. "I've dreamed about getting that installed!"
Arthur shook his head.
"No. Sandevistan is military-grade time dilation tech. What I made is a mechanical neural chip. It assists the body. It won't bend time like Sandevistan."
He paused slightly.
"But don't worry. I know where to get one. When the opportunity comes, you'll have it."
That was enough.
Bain didn't hesitate.
He lay down obediently on the operating chair.
Arthur silently prepared the anesthetic and injected it into Bain's spine.
Within seconds, Bain's body relaxed into unconsciousness.
Arthur's face showed no hesitation.
He cut open the skin along Bain's lower back with smooth precision and inserted three chips into the spinal channel.
One Mind Accelerator.
Two supporting neural stabilizers.
Unlike DeShawn, Bain did not receive the cognitive tamper chip.
Arthur had no need to force loyalty here.
Sometimes belief was stronger than control.
He closed the incision, sealed it cleanly, and sat beside the chair smoking quietly while waiting for Bain to wake.
He wanted to observe.
How effective were the enhancements in a real human subject?
---
Bain's Dream
In unconsciousness, Bain saw a world drenched in blood-red light.
He stood alone in a city of towering steel.
Above him, faceless elites controlled everything—money, information, fate.
He had always hated that.
The bottom of society was suffocating.
People were born into cages.
The powerful hoarded knowledge, wealth, and luxury while the lower class clawed for scraps.
Greed.
Ignorance.
Control.
These were the chains.
And in his dream—
Arthur appeared.
Not as a man.
But as hope.
Bain's breathing grew heavy.
"He's different," he muttered in his sleep. "Brother Ji… he'll change everything."
His fists clenched.
His heart pounded with fierce devotion.
He wanted strength.
He wanted power.
He wanted to tear down the obstacles in Arthur's path.
The dream did not feel unnatural to him.
It felt righteous.
---
Evening – Just Before Nightfall
Arthur couldn't resist briefly transforming into his Digital Virtual Soul form, extending his consciousness outward into the Net for a quick scan of nearby signals.
When he returned—
Bain's eyes opened.
The first thing he saw was Arthur.
"Oh… you're awake," Arthur said calmly. "Look around. Feel anything different?"
Bain blinked slowly.
He raised his hand in front of his face.
"…Brother Ji."
"Yes?"
"It feels like… everything slowed down."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"No. You got faster."
Bain's pupils dilated slightly.
Neural latency dropped.
Micro-muscle reflex increased.
Cognitive analysis speed enhanced.
He clenched his fists.
He felt powerful.
Truly powerful.
"Stand up," Arthur said.
Bain rose smoothly from the chair.
His movements felt strange—like time itself lagged behind him.
Arthur nodded.
"Not used to it yet. That's normal."
He stood up and stretched casually.
"Let's test it."
---
Puff Bar – Open Yard
Word spread quickly.
Within twenty minutes, a crowd gathered behind Puff Bar.
Homeless residents.
Workers.
Gang members.
Bar girls.
Everyone loved a spectacle.
Tonight's entertainment?
Little Bain versus eight fighters at once.
Standing alone on one side of the yard was Bain.
Opposite him stood the eight members who had once raided the Scavengers' hideout.
They had chosen to stay.
They had chosen loyalty.
Among them stepped forward Dorothy—a beautiful young woman with a bright red mohawk and elaborate tattoos.
She grinned.
"Brother Bain, don't worry. Since it's just fists, we'll go easy on you."
Arthur sat comfortably on a small folding stool, holding a bucket of popcorn.
To him—
This was life.
Professionals fight.
Observers enjoy.
Bain raised both hands and mockingly pointed his middle fingers downward.
"If I lose," he shouted, "I pay for everything at Puff Bar tonight!"
The crowd exploded.
"Woooo!"
"Bain's insane!"
"Take him down!"
Some daring girls even removed their jackets, revealing chrome-enhanced physiques, cheering wildly.
Arthur watched calmly.
Everything was proceeding exactly as expected.
---
Elsewhere – DeShawn Awakens
In a dim residential room nearby, Dexter DeShawn opened his eyes slowly.
The noise outside filtered faintly through the walls.
He raised his right arm instinctively.
Metal fingers flexed.
"…Cybernetics," he murmured.
He remembered.
Placide.
The knife.
The mercenary kid.
He exhaled heavily.
"I was saved…"
He stood with effort and walked toward the noise outside.
When he reached the open yard, he saw Bain.
And beside Bain—
Arthur.
For a moment, DeShawn forgot the pain.
How could someone look so calm in the chaos of Night City?
Arthur didn't look like a street merc.
He looked like someone above it.
DeShawn felt something stir inside him.
Gratitude.
Curiosity.
Interest.
---
The Fight Begins
Back in the yard, Isa—a blonde doll from Puff Bar—stepped forward wearing black fishnet stockings.
She placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply.
"Let's begin!"
Dorothy moved first.
She lunged forward, fist aimed directly at Bain's face.
"You're going down!"
Time slowed.
Not in reality—
In Bain's perception.
He saw the angle of her shoulder rotation.
The tightening of her calf muscle.
The micro-shift of her weight.
He stepped sideways.
Effortlessly.
Dorothy's punch missed completely.
Before she could recover—
Bain's elbow struck her ribs.
"Thud!"
She stumbled back in shock.
The crowd froze for a split second.
Then roared.
"What the hell?!"
Two more fighters rushed simultaneously.
Bain's vision processed trajectories instantly.
He ducked.
Pivoted.
Countered.
One kick.
One palm strike.
Two bodies hit the ground.
Arthur chewed popcorn calmly.
"Good," he murmured.
The neural enhancement was working perfectly.
No instability.
No overload.
Pure performance amplification.
Bain stood tall in the center of the yard.
Seven seconds had passed.
Three opponents were down.
The remaining five hesitated.
Dorothy wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and smiled fiercely.
"Oh… so that's how it is."
She charged again.
But this time—
All eight rushed together.
And Bain smiled.
For the first time in his life—
He felt like he could rewrite his own destiny.
---
Behind the crowd, Dexter DeShawn watched silently.
He observed Bain's unnatural speed.
He observed Arthur's calm control.
And deep inside—
A thought formed.
Perhaps this "Brother Ji" wasn't just another mercenary.
Perhaps—
He was something much more dangerous.
And much more valuable.
The night in Santo Domingo pulsed with excitement.
But Arthur knew—
This was only the beginning.
Strength.
Influence.
All pieces were moving.
And the board was finally starting to take shape.