Cyberpunk: The Magnet fruit

Jack's panicked expression was almost comical.

For some reason, seeing the big guy flustered made David chuckle. He shook his head, patted Jack on the shoulder, and said, "Relax. This one's on me."

"Huh?!" Jack exclaimed, blinking in confusion.

Ignoring the stunned looks on both Jack and Claire's faces, David stepped forward with a determined expression.

His gaze locked onto Oris, who was still raging in the middle of the room.

"I'm the one who beat that guy," David said loudly, his voice cutting through the chatter in the bar. "If you've got a problem, then come at me!"

The room went silent for a brief moment as everyone registered his bold declaration.

David wasn't one to run away from his actions. If he had done something, he would take responsibility for it.

But that wasn't the only reason he was willing to stand his ground.

He was confident the scavengers wouldn't dare to pull anything too extreme in the Afterlife.

This wasn't just any bar, after all.

Tonight's party was an important event, and Roger—the bar's influential owner—was present. That alone was enough to keep most people in check.

"Holy shit, did that waiter just admit to it?"

"No way! That guy? He's so scrawny—there's no way he punched out a scavenger's eyeballs!"

"Yeah, and he doesn't even have any prosthetic implants. How did he manage that?"

"Wait, isn't his accent from the Dragon Kingdom? I heard they've got some mysterious martial arts…"

"Oh, give me a break! You've been watching too many movies!"

The crowd erupted into hushed whispers and speculation as dozens of eyes focused on David.

Meanwhile, Oris pushed Los aside, letting the injured scavenger slump back to the ground.

His finger shot out like a dagger, pointing straight at David.

"You little bastard!" Oris growled. "I haven't even settled the score with you for earlier today, and now you're causing me trouble at night?!"

"If you don't give me a satisfactory explanation, I swear you won't see tomorrow's sunrise!"

"That's right!" one of the scavengers chimed in. "We're not letting you off the hook! You've gotta pay for the damage to my brother's prosthetics!"

"Don't forget the repair fees for the implants!" another scavenger added.

"Yeah, and the mental distress you've caused us!"

"And if my brother dies, you'll be covering his cremation costs too!"

The scavengers' demands were endless. They rattled off a detailed list of expenses, from medical costs to funeral fees, like they were running a business.

If Los, the injured scavenger, were conscious, he might've groggily thanked them for their thoroughness.

David, however, wasn't fazed.

In fact, he smirked.

"Hmph," he scoffed. "You're the ones who tried to rob me this afternoon. And now you're telling me I owe you an explanation? Give me a break!"

David's voice was firm as he pointed at Los, who was still sprawled on the floor.

"If I didn't have the skills to defend myself, you scumbags would've dragged me off to God knows where!" he said, his voice rising with righteous anger. "Now you're shameless enough to play the victims?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room before landing back on Oris.

"Fine," he said, his tone cold. "You want an explanation? I'll give you one!"

David raised his hand, pointing his finger skyward.

Then, with a deliberate motion, he extended his middle finger, making his message crystal clear.

"My explanation," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "is this: Go to hell!"

The bar erupted into chaos.

"Holy shit, did you hear that?!"

"This kid has some serious balls!"

"Hahaha! That was insane!"

"Hey, kid! You've got guts—I'll give you that!"

The Afterlife's patrons, a mix of mercenaries, outlaws, and cyber-enhanced misfits, cheered loudly.

Their excitement soared, surpassing even the earlier revelry on the dance floor.

At one corner of the bar, a group of rowdy Beast Gang members watched the scene unfold with amused expressions.

"Heh, this is getting interesting," said Delais, a shirtless thug lounging on a sofa with a girl in his arms.

"Who would've thought someone would start shit in the Afterlife?"

One of his gangmates laughed. "Yeah, and it's the scavengers getting their asses handed to them! Those sewer rats deserve it!"

Another gang member chimed in. "Man, this kid's got balls of steel. No prosthetics, no backup—just pure attitude!"

Delais grinned. "Still, where's Greli? Didn't he head out to deal with that guy who wrecked our car earlier? What's taking him so long?"

Just as the words left his mouth, a figure staggered into view.

It was Greli.

The usually cocky gang member was now hunched over, clutching his stomach. His face was pale, twisted in pain.

"What the hell happened to you?!" Delais demanded, his grin vanishing as he leapt to his feet.

"Did you trip in the bathroom or something?"

Greli gritted his teeth and shook his head. "No... I got jumped."

"What?!" Delais's eyes widened in disbelief. "Who the hell dared to mess with the Beast Gang?!"

Greli raised a trembling hand, pointing toward the center of the room.

"That guy," he said weakly. "That little bastard…"

All eyes turned to David once more.

The Beast Gang members exchanged incredulous looks.

First, David had taken on the scavengers.

Now, he was linked to an attack on their own gang?

For a moment, the air in the bar grew tense.

Delais's expression darkened. He cracked his knuckles, stepping forward as a menacing smile spread across his face.

"Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Looks like we've got ourselves a troublemaker."

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