The Animal Gang mber scratched his head, looking slightly regretful about missing out on a business deal.
But he wasn't angry about Arthur's words.
Among animals, the strong rule over everything.
The sa was true within the Animal Gang. Arthur's cyber-enhanced body alone was enough to prove his strength.
Even though the Animal Gang disliked heavy cybernetic modifications, they wouldn't complain about another beast having sharper claws.
"Alright, follow ," the gang mber finally said. "But just so you know, our boss has a nasty temper, so you'd better be careful. By the way, my na's Tom. What's yours?"
He started walking ahead, leading Arthur through the rough streets of Night City.
Arthur glanced at Tom. He seed to be one of the lower-ranking mbers of the gang.
It wasn't just his smaller size compared to the others—it was his attitude.
Most Animal Gang mbers were notoriously short-tempered, a side effect of injecting themselves with unregulated hormones and strange substances. Their unstable chemical balance made them prone to sudden mood swings and bursts of violence.
The only exceptions were:
Those who were wealthy and careful, using high-quality, custom-blended drugs.
Those who were poor and powerless, stuck at the bottom of the gang's hierarchy.
Since Tom wasn't nearly as built as the bodyguard outside Afterlife, Arthur figured he fell into the second category.
"Arthur," he replied.
Tom opened his mouth to say sothing else, but before he could, another gang mber suddenly threw a small box at him.
The box was launched straight into the air.
Arthur's reflexes kicked in instantly. He caught the box with one hand and yanked Tom behind him with the other.
He wasn't usually one to ddle in soone else's problems, but Tom had been polite so far.
And as a five-star citizen of Night City, Arthur felt it was his civic duty to contribute to the purification of the local environnt.
"You're looking at like one of those holess guys under the overpass," the attacker sneered. "Watch where you're walking next ti!"
"The hell's your problem?" Tom muttered.
The other gang mber's expression twisted with rage. His muscles tensed, his veins bulging from an overdose of testosterone.
Arthur sighed. He already knew where this was going.
Animal Gang mbers were always on edge. Overdosing on growth hormones didn't just bulk them up—it fried their patience down to a hair-trigger.
And Arthur's little act of interference was already enough to be considered a provocation.
But before the guy could make a move, Arthur flicked out his switchblade and pressed it right against the gang mber's throat.
"When you get mad, make sure to check who you're getting mad at," Arthur said coldly. "Otherwise, you might not even know which gutter you'll end up in."
The gang mber froze.
His anger fought against his survival instincts, but in the end, self-preservation won.
"Tch. You've got guts," he muttered, yanking the box out of Arthur's hand. "Don't let see you around next ti."
He stomped off without another word.
Tom exhaled, finally stepping out from behind Arthur.
"Thanks, man. Those guys are always looking for ways to ss with , even though I give them the best products every ti. I just don't get it!"
Arthur rolled his eyes.
He had lived in Night City long enough to know that there were no innocent people here.
Especially not a drug dealer like Tom.
"Maybe next ti, don't mark up your prices by ten tis the cost," Arthur said dryly. "Or at least stop watering down your product. Maybe mix in so actual testosterone instead of the crap you're getting from the Uzumaki Gang."
Tom's face stiffened.
For a split second, he looked genuinely stunned.
How the hell did Arthur know about his scam?
"Where the hell did you co from?" Tom muttered.
Arthur just smirked and continued walking.
As they moved deeper into the Animal Gang's territory, his mind drifted back to that box from earlier.
Sothing about it nagged at him.
He turned to Tom.
"What was in that box just now?"
Tom looked around cautiously, then leaned in close, whispering:
"Testicles."
Arthur blinked. "...Excuse ?"
"Fresh ones. Just picked up off the street," Tom added, like it was perfectly normal.
Arthur rubbed his temples. "So what? Are the Animal Gang mbers planning to install a dozen pairs on themselves?"
Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised him.
Animal Gang mbers weren't exactly known for their intelligence.
They jumped into things without a second thought—no research, no dical consultation, nothing.
If so idiot ca up with the idea that having twelve balls would increase their testosterone levels, Arthur could totally see them trying it out.
Tom actually laughed at the suggestion.
"Co on, man, we're not that stupid!" he said. "We don't care about that. The buyers are actually so rich folks from the city center."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're telling corporate executives are buying black market testicles?"
Tom nodded.
"I heard so high-level execs are paranoid about radiation exposure in Night City. They think it sses with their hormones. So they... swap them out every ten or twenty days."
Arthur was silent for a mont.
Then he sighed.
"You know," he said, shaking his head, "I used to think the lower-class folks in Night City believed in dumb conspiracies because they were uneducated."
"But sohow, rich people believe even dumber shit."
Sure, Night City had radiation, but it wasn't anywhere near dangerous levels.
And these corpo elites weren't even fully human anymore—most had already replaced their entire skin with high-tech cybernetic grafts.
With that level of enhancent, they could stand next to a nuclear reactor and be perfectly fine.
And yet... here they were, swapping out their balls like spare parts.
Unbelievable.
Arthur exhaled, shaking his head.
"Looks like the Animal Gang is doing big business these days," he muttered.
Tom smirked. "It's just delivery work, really. Those corpo guys don't trust scavengers, and we don't trust them, but hey... they have money, and we don't. So we run errands."
Arthur stroked his chin. "Do they buy anything else?"
Tom hesitated, then finally spoke.
"Does at count?"
Arthur's expression darkened.
Toxins were known to dabble in the underground at trade.
If the Animal Gang was involved, then...
Arthur squinted. "Plessio's your inside man, huh? That's why that big bastard's always selling chicken on the side."
Tom snorted.
"Plessio? Nah, man. He's a decent guy, but he doesn't sell us anything."
Arthur frowned. "Then who the hell are you buying from?"
Tom just grinned.
"You really don't wanna know," he said.
He pushed open a heavy tal door, leading Arthur deeper into the Animal Gang's world.
--------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
patreon/Samurai492
Reviews
All reviews (0)