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Arthur stared at his phone, the weight of her warning settling over him like smog. In his hands, he held what might be the most dangerous item in Night City. Just a chip—something so small it could be mistaken for a scrap of junk—but it radiated the kind of danger you didn't want to get too close to. Holding it felt like gripping the exhaust pipe of a burning hot Arasaka ride: one false move and you're cooked.
Military Tech hadn't skimped on deception. The chip had been buried deep ...
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