Welcome to club

"Wait, just—wait a second." Kestrel, overwhelmed, forced himself to look away, gasping for air.

"What's wrong, darling? Don't tell me you don't like me? What kind do you prefer? I can be anything you want."

The cat-girl pressed her supple body against him, her thigh wrapped in luminescent stockings sliding along Kestrel's leg.

"No, no—just hold on." Kestrel hurriedly raised a hand, pushing her away. "My wounds just got stitched up. No intense activity. Next time, I promise."

Just then, PAUL's head emerged from a sea of bare flesh, an e-cig dangling from his lips. "Bro, quit bullshitting. The D-series nano-medics patched you up ages ago. Unless…" He squinted. "You into dudes?"

With a smirk, he gave a playful shove, sending an almost-naked woman sprawling into TPAL's arms.

"First time? No worries, sweetheart, big sis will teach you." The cat-girl curled her tongue, a small blue pill resting upon it, sliding it toward Kestrel's lips.

Suddenly, the room darkened. Kestrel tensed, his cybernetic arm snapping up to seize her wandering hand.

The moment TPAL raised his gun in front of Kestrel, a sharp "pop" echoed through the club. A spotlight flickered on, illuminating the stage where a man in a sequined purple suit stood, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Club —where pleasure knows no bounds!" His voice boomed.

"And now, presenting—Blues F4 with their electrifying performance! BIG BIRD—" He theatrically swung his arm.

"BIG BIRD~~SPIN, SPIN, SPIN!"

The music erupted, and six nearly naked men, their oiled bodies pressed together, formed a tight "Zhou-Zhou" formation, rolling onto the stage like a human train.

With synchronized grins, they wrapped arms around each other's shoulders, swaying and gyrating in rhythm, their movements exaggeratedly suggestive.

In an apparent bid to impress, the performers made sure to angle their spins toward Kestrel and PAUL, striving to offer their esteemed patrons the most immersive experience.

"My eyes—MY EYES!!" Kestrel clutched his face, bolting from the club.

Cold rain splashed onto his head as he stumbled outside, hands gripping the railing, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

Even out here, the mental contamination refused to fade. The grotesque images replayed relentlessly in his mind.

"Shit. My brain is ruined."

"You ran out?"

PAUL, disheveled and lipstick-stained, strolled up with a smirk. "Bro, Linda-Linda's heartbroken. She thought she wasn't hot enough for you."

Kestrel ran an iron-clad hand through his rain-soaked hair, his irritation barely concealed. "First thing you do when I hit the city is take me to a place like that? Real considerate of you."

It had all happened too fast, too intensely. After everything he had been through, this was sensory overload beyond his limits.

And no matter what, he simply could not accept that certain parts of a woman's anatomy could glow.

At this moment, Kestrel was utterly drained—physically and mentally. "Pay up. The 30 Dogecoins for getting you out." He needed to settle himself in this city before making any other plans.

"No money." PAUL said it with a shameless ease.

"What?!" Kestrel turned sharply, his cybernetic hand gripping PAUL's collar. "Say that again. You're broke?!"

"Dead broke. Kill me if you want, won't change a thing." PAUL shrugged, completely unfazed.

"Bullshit! You streamed the whole damn thing! Don't tell me you didn't make bank! You even ordered drinks! And you still dare say you're broke?!"

"Yeah, and I spent it. You forget how we made it here?"

"No way in hell that burned through thirty whole Dogecoins!"

"And don't forget," PAUL added smugly, "that arm of yours? Black titanium combat prosthetic from WarTech. You know how much that costs? Shouldn't that count toward the debt?"

"No." TPAL, ever precise, interjected. "We signed a rescue contract after your hand was stolen. The replacement does not count as post-rescue compensation."

At that moment, a hovercar sprayed in crude black graffiti drifted overhead, its neon underglow casting eerie streaks across the rain-slicked street.

"Cool it," PAUL grinned, unbothered. "Let's not get BCPD on our asses."

"I never said I wouldn't pay, just… not now."

Kestrel eyed him, knowing full well that unless he resorted to force, PAUL wasn't handing over a single coin anytime soon. And to be fair, the guy had paid their way here.

Besides, the bastard was—begrudgingly—his only acquaintance in this city. He might come in handy later.

"Fine. Whenever you have money, you pay me back." Kestrel wasn't expecting to see a single Dogecoin again, but at least now he had an excuse to rope PAUL into future favors.

The moment debt was off the table, PAUL lit up, throwing an arm around them both, showering them with enthusiastic "bro, bro, bro" exclamations.

Sensing the shift, Kestrel chuckled and smoothly leaned into it. "Since we're bros now, surely a bro helps a bro out, yeah?"

"I said I have no money." PAUL's grin soured instantly.

"I don't need money. We just got to the Megacity, got no place to crash—surely staying at your place for a few days ain't too much to ask?" Kestrel hooked an arm around PAUL's shoulders, playing the camaraderie card.

Finding shelter was the priority now—he wasn't about to let them sleep on the streets.

PAUL hesitated, then sighed. "Can't. Got roommates. But I can hook you up with a place."

"Appreciate it, bro." Kestrel playfully tapped his chest with a fist.

"Oh, and one more thing. Get me a neural interface. I owe you that much, right? My last one got fried by that bald bastard. I'll pay you back when I got the funds."

Of course, Kestrel was lying—he never had a neural interface to begin with. But if he wanted to survive in this city, he needed one.

It was obvious. Everyone here had it—without it, he was effectively a caveman in a digital world.

Even if PAUL had given him the Dogecoins earlier, he wouldn't even have a registered account to install it.

PAUL crossed his arms, tapping his gold tooth with an inky-black fingernail as he considered.

"…Fine. But this is the last favor, got it? Stop milking me."

"How is this milking you?" TPAL slung an arm around PAUL, adapting surprisingly well. "Bros help bros, right?"