Cyberpunk: The Magnet fruit

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Following the neon-lit sign of the "Phoenix Club," David and Lucy stepped into a dimly lit alley.

At the end of the path, the club's entrance stood glowing with bold red letters, surrounded by the pulsing hum of bass-heavy music.

Near the doors, several cyber-enhanced figures loitered, their appearances marked by intricate tattoos and chrome prosthetics. From their looks, David immediately recognized them as members of the Tiger Claw Gang.

This notorious criminal organization, largely composed of people of Sakura Nation descent, held a tight grip on Kabuki District and Sakura Street. Bars, Mewtwo Experience Clubs, casinos, and brothels—nearly every vice-laden establishment in the area—was under their control.

"David, keep your guard up," Lucy murmured, her eyes scanning the surroundings. She subtly gestured to the upper floors of the club. "They've got lookouts everywhere. If things go south, avoid engaging them directly."

David glanced around and quickly noticed her point. The Tiger Claws had stationed guards on every level of the Phoenix Club, their presence impossible to ignore.

"Got it," David replied, adjusting the collar of his jacket. "Let's head inside. Hanging around out here is just asking for trouble."

Lucy nodded in agreement, and the two made their way toward the entrance.

After a brief security check, they stepped into the main lobby of the Phoenix Club.

The interior was loud, chaotic, and alive with activity. Pulsing lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the dance floor, where dozens of patrons reveled to the heavy beat of the music. Booths lined the walls, offering private spaces for guests, while the bar buzzed with orders.

David's attention was drawn to the cubicles on the side of the room. Inside, customers sat wearing Mewtwo devices, their faces twisted in bizarre expressions of pleasure or distress. Some patrons clutched nervously at their seats, while others convulsed with abandon, lost in their immersive experiences.

It didn't take much imagination to guess what kind of fantasies they were paying for.

"Looks like Jotaro runs a full-service operation here," David muttered, his tone dripping with disdain.

Lucy smirked and led him toward the bar. "Let's blend in for now. Two standard margaritas, please," she called to the bartender.

The bartender raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Got it. The lady knows what she's doing." He turned to David and gave him a sly grin. "Hey, kid, I see you brought your girl here. Good choice—it's gonna be a wild night."

David frowned, confused by the comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lucy shrugged, clearly amused. "How would I know?"

Before David could respond, the bartender returned with their drinks.

"Here you go—1 lime, 1 ounce of orange liqueur, 1.5 ounces of tequila, and lime juice. Add a little coarse salt and ice, and you've got yourselves a perfect margarita. Enjoy your romantic evening."

As he spoke, the bartender shot David a knowing wink, as though sharing some unspoken joke.

David scowled but said nothing. He took a sip of his drink instead, noting its tangy sweetness and the smooth burn of tequila.

"Not bad," he admitted after a moment.

Lucy took a drink of her own and nodded approvingly. "Let's sit tight. Jotaro should show up soon."

The two of them lingered at the bar, keeping a low profile while scanning the room. The minutes ticked by, and the scene around them continued unabated—laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses filled the air.

From the outside, it might've looked like a casual date between two young lovers. But beneath the surface, David and Lucy were both on high alert, their eyes darting toward every suspicious movement.

After about ten minutes, the club doors opened again.

This time, a man entered, flanked by two bodyguards. He was of medium height, dressed in an impeccably tailored white suit that screamed money and arrogance. His jet-black hair was slicked back, and his expression was cold and calculating.

Lucy leaned closer to David, her voice barely a whisper. "That's Jotaro Shoho."

David's eyes narrowed as he studied the man. This was their target—the leader of the Phoenix Club and one of the top earners for the Tiger Claw Gang.

"Got it," David said quietly, setting his glass down.

To be continued...

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