The group walked out of Clouds without a word, took the elevator down the mega tower, exited the massive structure, and returned to the Delamain cab. On the way, Leo made a call to Judy, letting her know that Evelyn might be at Finger's clinic on Jig-Jig Street.
That's right—he said "might." Woodman had told the truth, but Evelyn had been taken to Finger's clinic several days ago. If Fingers had actually patched her up, there was no reason Evelyn wouldn't have contacted Judy. It made sense for her to avoid Leo and the others—but there was no reason to avoid Judy. That alone gave Leo a bad feeling.
Finger's clinic probably wasn't the end of the road for them.
"Fingers? Shit, that bastard's done more dirt than I can count. Oh, Ev... I told her to stay away from Clouds… Leo, where are you guys? Wait for me—I'm coming to meet you right now."
"Then we'll wait for you at the entrance to Jig-Jig Street."
Jig-Jig Street wasn't far from Megatower H8. Also a red-light district, it was a chaotic blend of every kind of person and service. Shops proudly displayed their lip-shaped neon signs, while behind glass windows, bodies twisted and swayed to invisible rhythms. Sex dolls, dressed in provocative, barely-there outfits, stood outside with eyes full of heat, aggression, and hunger, scanning every passerby.
They had only been standing at the entrance to the street for less than ten minutes before they had already brushed off several groups of sex dolls trying to solicit them—each more persistent than the last.
Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. Judy arrived, driving a "Columbus Seadragon" van, speeding over from Lizzie's Bar.
Columbus, under Villefort, was the youngest, cheapest, and most popular model in its line, a favorite among transport companies and large families—and, of course, Scavs. The van was big, wide, and roomy—perfect for hauling both crewmates and "cargo"—the poor souls they had their eyes on.
Judy stepped out of the van and walked up to them. After a quick exchange of greetings, she said, "I'll lead the way," and headed straight into Jig-Jig Street. Her expression was like a scorned lover, and the working dolls—initially eager to pitch themselves—quickly backed off after one look.
Seeing Judy walk like she knew the place well, Leo asked curiously, "You seem to know this Fingers guy pretty well?"
"You could say that. If you know even one doll, you've heard of Fingers."
"He that famous?"
Judy sneered. "More like he knows how to 'sell himself.' You should see how he promotes that so-called clinic on his website—if you can even call that dump a clinic."
"He installs junk into dolls. Stuff even the bums wouldn't pick up off the street."
Jackie's eyes went wide with disbelief, his face showing a mix of confusion and disgust. "And people still go to that place?"
In Night City, black-market clinics were everywhere—unlicensed ripperdocs as common as rats. Most only got business once; the moment someone got scammed, they never went back. But from the way Judy described it, Fingers not only had new clients—he had regulars. What, were their neural links fried too?
Judy let out a cold laugh. "That's what makes Fingers dangerous. He knows his clients—dolls with wallets emptier than their eyes. So he lets them pay… in other ways."
V and Lucy's expressions turned grim. At the same time, they both muttered, "Scum."
While they talked, the group made their way into a side alley deep within Jig-Jig Street, the walls covered in strange, disturbing graffiti. At the alley's end was a huge wall mural—a pale face with sunken panda eyes, lips sewn shut with black thread. It didn't seem to serve any purpose other than to show off the artist's twisted tastes and make anyone looking at it deeply uncomfortable.
Beside the mural stood a dirty, crumbling building. Finger's clinic was inside. The wall above the door still had a flickering white neon sign: "FingersMD." But outside the door, a few punks were loitering—some sitting, others standing—completely blocking the entrance.
"Well, well, look who we've got here." The gang leader sitting on the steps leered at V and Lucy, his gaze hungry and overtly hostile. "Two sweet little cherries in a dumpster like this? Walkin' around without a leash… you sure you're not asking for it? Bet you'd scream real nice."
A red flash appeared in Lucy's eyes. The punk lounging on the plastic chair was suddenly engulfed in a burst of blue-white electric sparks—his body spasming as both he and the chair toppled backward.
The one standing in front of the door with arms crossed suddenly ignited—flames spread rapidly over his body until he became a living torch, as if his flesh were made of gasoline-soaked rags.
As for the leader on the steps—he had just pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the group when, without warning, his arm started moving against his will. Slowly, the barrel pressed up under his own chin.
Bang.
Judy flinched slightly at the sound but said nothing. Her eyes lingered on the bodies for a second too long before she looked away. Jaw tight, she kept moving, her mind locked on one thing—Evelyn.
The group stepped over the corpses and entered the building. No one questioned what Lucy had done. In fact, even if Lucy hadn't fried them, Leo wouldn't have let it slide either. In a place like Night City, where the law was a joke, you couldn't expect respect—you had to demand it.
And that kind of filth only understood one thing: force.
Even now, they had guns, and there were two men—Leo and Jackie—standing right there. If it had just been one woman walking in alone… well, everyone knew what would've happened. There was no need to be merciful.
The building was filled with the murmurs and nonsense of half-delirious vagrants, but the group ignored them and climbed the stairs. On the upper floor—if it could still be called a waiting room—the space was packed with people. Bathed in garish purples and pinks, the room felt more like a seedy club offering "special services" than any kind of medical facility.
Judy entered and looked around before rushing straight toward the back.
Immediately, the other waiting customers exploded with outrage.
"Hey! There's a line here!"
"No way, no cutting!"
"Sit your ass down and wait your turn I've been here half an hour! Not even Lizzy Wizzy's getting in before me!"
Apparently, Fingers had dealt with line-cutters before. The door to the operating room was tightly shut. Judy tried pushing it—no use. She ignored the protests and returned to Leo's side, her face anxious.
Leo glanced around at the waiting dolls packed into the room, then looked back at Judy. "Fingers is in there?"
"Of course he is. What, you think all these people are lining up to breathe air?" Judy bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then looked at Leo with a pleading expression. "Leo… I'm really worried about Ev. I can't wait anymore. I know I sound like some manipulative drama queen, but—please. Can you figure something out?"
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