"I am Doctor Charles.
What do you want to replace? A new arm, or the best artificial lung? I have them all," Charles said eagerly, then added, seeing that Berry was a woman, "Although I don't have sex doll chips, I have channels.
If you want one, I can get it for you, for only 80% of the original price."
Ignoring the pile of nonsense he said, Berry quickly scanned him with a frown.
The man named Charles wore a transparent plastic surgical gown and a jellyfish-like hood of the same material on his head, looking like a doctor, yet also like a butcher dissecting remains.
And unfortunately, in Night City, butchers and doctors were sometimes synonymous.
While Berry observed him, Charles was also observing Berry.
Dressed like a street punk, not like someone wealthy, the exposed wires of Berry's "cyberware" on her arm further convinced him that she must be short on cash, meaning there wasn't much profit to be squeezed from this young woman.
But sometimes, one had to look at the bigger picture, after all, people themselves were valuable "resources," especially when Charles saw Berry's "pure" face, rare in Night City, he believed this even more firmly.
See? A good face has value.
Night City is just that humane.
Charles chuckled inwardly, silently making his own plans.
No money, but a pretty face.
Charles quickly categorized Berry.
Next was to prescribe the right remedy, striving to extract the most profit from her.
Charles liked poor people; no money also meant empty-headed and easily fooled, especially young women like the one in front of him.
Perhaps she couldn't stand Night City's foul air and needed a new filtration system, or an organ had gone bad and required an artificial one, but Charles didn't care about any of that.
He only needed to use slightly more expensive items on her, then intimidate her with prices several times higher, and then he could watch her crying face as he pulled off her clothes, enjoy the first taste, and then sell her to a snakehead in Kabuki to make a fortune.
As for whether she would retaliate, what ability did a pauper have to retaliate?
Charles was very confident in his methods.
Even if there were some minor complications, don't forget, he also had backing.
Just like that, in less than half a minute, Charles had already arranged the second half of Berry's life.
Good people shine for different deeds, but bad people are always consistently rotten to the core.
When Berry saw his sinister, sewer-like gaze, she knew what she was dealing with.
This guy was the kind of quack doctor more despicable than a frog's piss; if you shot ten of them, there would still be some who escaped.
First, find an excuse to inquire about that batch of goods, to see if she could extract some information before dealing with this guy.
"Doctor, save me, the cyberware in my right hand hurts terribly, it's driving me crazy."
Having made up her mind, Berry immediately hugged her kinetic arm guard, her face contorted in pain.
As if to match her words, sparks of electricity flickered between the arm guard's wires, and Berry let out a timely scream.
"Come, come, sit down quickly, let me see how I can help you!" Charles acted completely like a dedicated doctor whose duty was to save lives and heal the wounded, eagerly ushering Berry to sit down.
"No, Doctor." Berry glanced at the chair with difficulty, her face showing the embarrassment of poverty.
"My money is only enough for a cheap second-hand cyberware."
She didn't want this quack doctor to realize that her "cyberware" was actually external armor.
"My cousin told me that there are some good and cheap cyberware in Chinatown recently.
Do you have any here, Doctor?"
Berry pretended to lower her eyes, but her mind was focused on Charles's face, watching to see if he would reveal any flaws.
"Chinatown?" Hearing that name seemed to alert Charles.
He frowned and carefully scrutinized Berry in front of him before relaxing again.
"Oh, you mean the inferior goods those guys in Chinatown make."
Charles sat in his chair and started complaining.
"Sigh, don't even get me started.
Last time I ordered a batch of goods from those guys in Chinatown, and what happened? They got robbed halfway!
I told them to compensate me for the goods, but they wouldn't, and they wouldn't refund my money either.
I'm so worried right now."
This demeanor didn't seem faked; could she have guessed wrong?
Watching Charles complain with his head down, he really looked like a sucker who had lost both goods and money.
Berry couldn't tell if he was truly unrelated to the robbery.
However, luckily.
Berry carried a lie detector with her.
"Hey, Doctor, look at mine."
"What?" Just as Charles thought he had fooled the young woman in front of him, he looked up and was startled, only to see the dark muzzle of a gun at her waist pointing directly at him.
Seeing this, Charles's face turned pale, and he raised his hands, not daring to move.
"Be honest, come here, pull your pants down to your ankles, and lie face down on the ground."
Berry smiled sweetly, pointing her gun to an empty spot in front of her, telling Charles to go there.
She wouldn't give him a chance to run out the door.
Berry was not just proficient at this kind of thing, she was extremely proficient.
"Hurry up, don't dawdle!" Seeing Charles still frozen in place, Berry cursed out loud, shaking the gun in her hand, scaring him into a shiver.
"Okay, okay, I'll do it!" Although he didn't know why the patient he was just calculating had suddenly turned into a fierce robber, Charles didn't dare to joke with his life.
He quickly did as Berry said, pulling down his pants and lying face down on the ground.
Berry, with practiced ease, first threatened him with a gun, then controlled the victim to prevent escape.
This assembly-line operation, even a seasoned robber would give Berry a thumbs up.
Running a no-capital business also had its tricks.
For example, when threatening with a gun, one shouldn't be like those rookies who've watched too many TV shows, pressing the gun to someone's forehead as if afraid they wouldn't try to snatch it.
Berry held the pistol at her waist, allowing for the maximum firing range while also guarding against the victim making a desperate grab for the gun; it was truly the choice of a professional.
And telling the victim to pull their pants down to their ankles and lie face down on the ground maximized restraint without physical contact.
Try it yourself; in that position, just getting up is extremely difficult, and running makes it easy to trip over your pants.
In that time, the shooter could send him to see the King of Hell ten times over.
Lying on the ground, Charles quickly understood all this, and for a moment, he felt like crying without tears.
He thought a little lamb easy to manipulate had come, but who knew it was a fierce bandit?
Who did he offend?
"Name!?"
"Huh?"
"I asked your name!"
"Cha-Charles."
"Gender!"
"Male, please, don't shoot, I'll give you money..."
"Did I ask you to speak?" Berry unceremoniously kicked Charles in the stomach, making him double over like a shrimp, his eyes rolling back.
"You answer what I ask, understood?"
Charles nodded painfully with his eyes closed; he couldn't speak anymore.
"Who got that batch of goods from Chinatown?!"
"I don't know, I really don't know, I'm just a customer..."
"Identity ID, read it to me!"
"7, 78341..."
"What month and day is your mother's birthday!"
"February, February 15th."
"Identity ID, repeat it!"
"78341..."
"How much profit did they split with you for that batch of goods! Speak!"
"I really don't know, how could those Scavengers, uh..." When he mentioned Scavengers, Charles suddenly froze, then his eyes filled with terror.
He hadn't been this terrified even with Berry's gun pointed at him.
"Heh heh." Berry, however, smiled.
"I don't recall telling you that the theft was done by Scavengers."
She had thought she might have genuinely wronged this guy, but she didn't expect her "lie detector" to be so effective, immediately exposing him.
She should have just gone straight to it earlier, instead of bothering with all this.
"N-no..." Charles's face was pressed against the cold ground, covered in cold sweat, stammering, unable to offer a defense.
He had indeed let something slip.
The next second, the clinic door burst open with a bang, and Arno strode in, immediately grabbing Charles from the ground like a chicken and smashing his head against the wall.
Arno didn't stop.
He kneed the man, covered Charles's mouth with his large gloved hand, and with the other hand, snapped Charles's thumb with a crunch, like breaking a pea pod.
The thumb was twisted outwards, bone shards clearly visible.
Sweat beaded on Charles's face, his eyes rolled back, and his screams were muffled by Arno's large hand, only letting out a buzzing sound like a fly.
"This is the price for not being obedient, understood?"
Berry leaned against the table, holding the gun, and said to Charles with a smile.
"I'll give you one more chance.
Tell me what happened with that batch of goods.
Think carefully before you speak this time.
This time I broke your finger, next time, it'll be your head!"
Berry, with her cute little face, now had eyes full of ruthlessness.
For scum who cooperated with Scavengers, she never minced words.