When I was young, I was obsessed whit the Arena's Champions. I'd covered the sad cubicol where I sleeped in posters and stickers. And when I finally got the chance, I came right here, between them, th Titans. They eyed me, saying I wasn't strong or big enough. Thst's true. But I can listen, I can se what is neede, and I can move the right strings. They made me the bookmaker, the bet manager. They underestimate me. I let them. After all... it's the best way to handle them behind their back.
Shh! take it easy. Do you see those? Do you see the chrome? They call it heavy metal. Don’t let them see you, for them any excuse to flatline someone is good, even if it’s just for a laugh! Not here, but in their fucking Arena where the laws of the City go fuck themselves. Are they cyberpsychotic? Some, but not all. They are even worse: they really don’t give a fuck about anything. Nothing at all! You know? Now that has to scare you! Only violence, and especially theirs, in that damn place–that’s the only thing that matters.
Experience: Choose this group if you like a violent game with no care for tomorrow where only Arena fighting, Sprawl brutality, and Cyberpsychosis matter. Laugh in the face of NeoCorp’s overwhelming power because strength is everything. You have to be crazy to climb to the top. After all, what’s the alternative? To be one of the corpses piling up at the bottom.
