Where is Tom Highwater?

As we reached a specific door, its opulence stood in stark contrast to the rest of the club. It was richly decorated, almost out of place in this chaotic underworld. Pierce released my hand and knocked forcefully. I couldn't help but ask, "Why didn't you just take the stairs like I did?"

Pierce didn't answer. The door swung open, revealing a man in his mid-twenties. His appearance was striking - a punk aesthetic heavily augmented with cyberware. His facial features were altered to resemble an Orc from fantasy fiction, complete with tusk-like prosthetics and a harsh, imposing demeanor.

Upon seeing Pierce, the man spat disdainfully at his feet. His voice was mocking and sarcastic, but he wasn't speaking to us directly. Instead, he addressed the others in the room. "I smelled shit today, and it finally showed up. Detective Pierce."

Pierce remained stoic, unaffected by the provocation. He asked, "Where's Burito?"