The company dogs in Night City have always adhered to one iron law.
Property belongs to the company, life belongs to oneself.
No matter if the final outcome is being disposed of or getting fired, it's better than dying now. As long as you're alive, there's room to maneuver.
The salesman first stopped his companions from raising their guns, then straightforwardly pulled car keys out of his pocket and offered them with both hands.
"Sir, please don't get agitated, this car is temporarily yours now."
Previously, he couldn't recognize which gang this gray-looking guy in front belonged to, but seeing the outfit and the mercenaries in black evacuating the crowd, how could he not know that this guy was one of those mercenaries causing turmoil in Night City recently?
These people kill without blinking, eat without salt, not caring if you're a company dog or a gang member; there's no one they wouldn't dare to offend.
