Jack's gorilla arm smashed into Razor's abdomen once again, forcing him to stagger backward.
"Jack! Don't let him recover! Stay on him!" Victor shouted from ringside. "Hit him hard with that gorilla arm!"
Jack smirked. He knew exactly what to do. Razor might have micro-syringes pumping pain suppressants into his muscles, but even that couldn't fully block out the pain.
The fact that he was feeling Jack's blows despite the enhancements? That was proof enough—Jack was breaking him.
After a flurry of relentless punches, Jack felt his gorilla arm fully charged. He took a step forward, dodging Razor's sluggish counterattack, then delivered a brutal punch to his opponent's ribs, sending him stumbling.
Jack rolled his shoulder, adjusting the output power on his gorilla arm. If he went all out, he could very well shatter Razor's bones right then and there. But Jack wasn't that kind of guy.
With a final, decisive strike, Razor collapsed onto his knees before crumpling onto the mat.
The crowd went wild.
The announcer, eyes wide with shock, shouted into the mic. "My God! Razor is down! Will he get back up? Ten seconds!"
Tension filled the air.
"Come on, Razor! Get up!" someone in the audience yelled.
"Razor, you bastard, I bet five hundred eddies on you!" another screamed in frustration.
Many in the audience had placed bets on Razor, confident that he would win. Now, watching him motionless on the ground, they were panicking.
On the other side of the ring, Jack's friends—David and Pilar—were already cheering.
"Jack! That was insane!" Pilar whooped.
Jack didn't go in for another punch. He knew Razor was done. Even if he managed to stand, Jack was more than ready to put him back down.
Seconds ticked by.
The referee finished his count. Razor wasn't moving.
"The match is over! Victory belongs to Jack Wells from Heywood! Let's hear it for him!"
The announcer may have lost two thousand euros on his bet, but his job mattered more. He played his part, hyping up the crowd.
"Jack! Jack! Jack!"
The crowd erupted into chants, celebrating Jack's win. He stood in the center of the ring, basking in the attention, arms raised in victory.
Meanwhile, Razor was carried out of the ring by his team's medics, his fans groaning in disappointment.
But Jack? He was grinning ear to ear. This was his moment.
---
Wild Wolf Bar
To celebrate his victory, Jack invited Peter and Mann to his house for drinks.
Their first stop? Wild Wolf Bar.
Peter had never been there before, so as they approached the entrance, he took a moment to read the sign posted outside:
"It takes a few minutes to call the police, but it takes less than a tenth of a second for my bullet to enter your head. Think twice before causing trouble."
Peter smirked. Definitely Mrs. Wells' style.
Inside, the bar was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Mrs. Wells, Jack's mother, was behind the counter, tending to customers.
As soon as Jack walked in, she spotted him and marched over.
"You little brat," she scolded, eyeing his bruised face. "I told you not to fight, and yet here you are, looking like you went ten rounds with a freight train!"
Jack laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "C'mon, Mom. You should see the other guy. Trust me, he looks way worse." He gestured toward Peter and the others. "And hey, I won! My friends are here to celebrate with me."
Mrs. Wells sighed but shook her head with a small smile. "Welcome, boys," she said, nodding at Peter. "Come on in. Pepi will get you whatever you want to drink."
As they entered, Peter glanced around the bar.
His eyes landed on a table in the corner where V and his crew sat, drinking in silence. He wondered what was on their minds.
Meanwhile, Jack pulled Peter toward the bar. "Mom, this is Peter, the guy I've been telling you about."
Mrs. Wells turned her attention to Peter, offering her hand. "Ah, so you're the famous Peter. Jack never stops talking about you. Says you're the most trustworthy mercenary captain in Night City. My ears are practically bleeding from how much he praises you."
Peter chuckled and shook her hand. "Jack's exaggerating, Mrs. Wells. If anything, he's the one who's been a huge help to me."
Mrs. Wells scoffed. "I know my son. He's a handful. I should be thanking you for looking after him."
"Jack's got a lot of talent," Peter replied. "You should have more faith in him."
Jack grinned. "See, Mom? Even Peter agrees!"
"Yeah, yeah," Mrs. Wells muttered. Then, glancing at Jack's face, she asked, "You hungry?"
Jack's eyes lit up. "Starving."
"Figures. You barely ate before your match. Fine, I'll make something for you." She turned to Peter. "You should try my cooking too. I make a mean taco."
Peter smiled. "Sounds great. I'd love to."
Mrs. Wells nodded and headed to the kitchen.
The moment she was gone, Jack pulled a bottle from behind the bar.
"Damn, Jack," Pepi said, raising an eyebrow. "You're really going all out tonight, huh?"
Jack smirked. "Only for my brother."
He set the bottle down in front of Peter. "This is my absolute favorite. A top-tier tequila, brewed by Jess de Abagio. Only a hundred bottles exist. The rest are all in the hands of rich bastards—except for this one."
Peter eyed the bottle. "How'd you get it?"
Jack grinned mischievously. "Bought it from an old lady in Mexico. Her face was all wrinkles, and she kept rambling about how Achoba stole her formula."
Peter smirked. "And you still believe it's legit?"
Jack scoffed. "Look at the cap. That's Abagio's exclusive logo. No way it's fake." He grabbed two shot glasses, added some ice, and carefully poured the tequila. "Tonight, we drink till we drop."
Jack lifted his glass. "First, let's taste it straight."
Peter took his glass, clinking it against Jack's. "Cheers."
They downed their shots.
The tequila had a strong agave taste, but it was smooth, with a refreshing hint of citrus and a mild burn at the end.
Jack sighed in satisfaction. "Damn, that's good."
Peter nodded. "Yeah. Definitely not bad."
Jack grinned. "Told you."
They poured another round, ready to drink the night away.
Tonight, they celebrated victory.
Tomorrow? Well, that was a problem for another day.
---
End of Chapter 115