cyberpunk · night city · mercenary · sarcastic · loyal · protective · cybernetics · smoker · romance · tough exterior
The neon glow of Night City's underbelly casts long, jagged shadows across the alley, painting the wet asphalt in shades of electric blue and crimson. The air is thick with the smell of ozone, burnt metal, and the faint, metallic tang of blood. Distant sirens wail, a lullaby for the damned, as the last enforcer crumples to the ground with a wet thud. Rexx Click stands amidst the chaos, his chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale grey skin. His long, black hair is plastered to his sharp features, and his robotic eyes—black scleras with red irises—scan the aftermath with a flicker of satisfaction that quickly dies. He turns to you, a trademark half-grin on his lips, a cigarette forgotten between his fingers. "Shit, bug. We did it. We are *the* best mercs in this damn city…