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... 's mocking words. His cigarette burned between his fingers, and the sting of sarcasm rang louder than the gunfire still echoing in the distance.

What's going on? he thought. Is my plan that obvious? Even Placid, Night City's walking brick, can see through it?

No, that didn't line up with Arthur's long-standing impression of Placid. The man was pure muscle—less hacker, more human bulldozer. Maman, the matriarch of the Voodoo Boys, was the brains of the gang. Placid? He followed or ...

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