The Animal Gang member 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 same 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 me," the gang member finally said. "But just so you know, our boss has a nasty temper, so you'd better be careful. By the way, my name's Tom. What's yours?"
He started walking ahead, leading Arthur through the rough streets of Night City.
Arthur glanced at Tom. He seemed to be one of the lower-ranking members of the gang.
It wasn't just his smaller size compared to the others—it was his attitude.
Most Animal Gang members 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 something else, but before he could, another gang member 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 meddle in someone 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 environment.
"You're looking at me like one of those homeless guys under the overpass," the attacker sneered. "Watch where you're walking next time!"
"The hell's your problem?" Tom muttered.
The other gang member'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 members 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 member'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 member 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 me see you around next time."
He stomped off without another word.
Tom exhaled, finally stepping out from behind Arthur.
"Thanks, man. Those guys are always looking for ways to mess with me, even though I give them the best products every time. 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 time, don't mark up your prices by ten times the cost," Arthur said dryly. "Or at least stop watering down your product. Maybe mix in some 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 come 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.
Something 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 me?"
"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 members planning to install a dozen pairs on themselves?"
Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised him.
Animal Gang members weren't exactly known for their intelligence.
They jumped into things without a second thought—no research, no medical consultation, nothing.
If some idiot came 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.
"Come on, man, we're not that stupid!" he said. "We don't care about that. The buyers are actually some rich folks from the city center."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me corporate executives are buying black market testicles?"
Tom nodded.
"I heard some high-level execs are paranoid about radiation exposure in Night City. They think it messes with their hormones. So they… swap them out every ten or twenty days."
Arthur was silent for a moment.
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 somehow, 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 enhancement, 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 meat count?"
Arthur's expression darkened.
Toxins were known to dabble in the underground meat 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 metal door, leading Arthur deeper into the Animal Gang's world.
--------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
patreon.com/Samurai492