Although the synthetic meat is cloned from nutrient solution, leading to the absence of connective tissue, blood vessels, and fats, it’s purely stacks of muscle cells.
It has no chewiness or flavor, but for players used to real meat, it’s still a novelty.
As for those synthetic foods, they’re no different from snack sticks for players, and unlike the locals of Night City, they don’t eat them daily.
So Potato and the other kept casually stuffing chicken meatballs into their mouths, their eyes fixed on Fender.
They weren’t the only group probing for system loopholes; players each had their methods.
And Fender sat there eating and drinking heartily, his eyes scanning the passersby on the street, thoughts unknown.
Soon, all the food and drink on the table were crammed into his stomach. Fender stood up, clapped his hands, grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth, and was ready to leave without any intention of paying the bill.
At this moment, the two players behind him immediately stood up, blocking the entrance ahead of him.
Potato: "Hold on! Did you forget something?"
Bighead: "Didn’t you just eat and not pay? I despise freeloaders the most in my life."
They spoke arrogantly, their expressions practically begging for a fight.
Where did these lunatics come from?
Fender frowned and glanced at the shop owner.
The shop owner appeared bewildered, scared but also trembling, quickly shaking his head to explain.
"They’re new here. I don’t know them."
His avoidance, fearful of getting into trouble, was amusing to behold.
Fender looked at the two in front of him, intending to ignore them and push through.
Unexpectedly, Sun and Huang didn’t dodge, forcing him back into the shop.
Fender’s expression instantly changed.
"Damn it, looking for trouble, are you?"
He defiedly stretched out his right hand, slapping Bighead’s face hard, saying,
"Do you know who I am? Do you know who controls this street?"
"I don’t need to pay for eating here; you pay me for eating here, got it?" speaking with a fierce grimace.
Theoretically, every shop on Night City’s streets is within a gang’s territory, paying protection fees weekly to prevent thugs from causing trouble.
Dining for free is another form of protection fee.
Their conflict attracted curious glances, wondering if another gang was here to claim territory.
Bighead wasn’t upset from being hit; instead, he took out a bunch of crumpled notes from his pocket.
Fender thought he’d pay in apology, but Bighead laughed and said.
"No money? I’ll cover it, no matter how many dishes. I despise people who can’t pay and pretend otherwise."
After saying that, he threw the money in the boss’s face, bills flying in the shop, and many who noticed the impending brawl started sneaking out the back door.
So far, the system hadn’t reacted, indicating that such acts of righteousness weren’t considered provocation.
Moreover, throwing money felt thrilling beyond measure.
Never humiliated , Fender’s mind went blank, punching straight into Bighead’s smug face, knocking him to the ground.
Bighead fell to the ground with a wail.
"Ah! Severely injured and down!"
Unfazed, Potato pointed at Fender, shouting to the onlookers,
"You saw it; he started it! We were just defending ourselves!"
Then two more rushed in through the door.
Wildman and Brother Ni each landed a punch on Fender’s face.
"Damn freeloader, dare to hit people, seeking death!"
"Bounty’s only 207? You’ve signed your death warrant!"
"Daring to punch someone as handsome as me?"
Two fists are no match for four, not to mention they were four people with eight hands, pinning Fender to the ground in a blink.
The four surrounded the fallen Fender, mercilessly punching and kicking, no one daring to intervene.
Punches and kicks landed on his face and stomach, causing him to vomit everything he ate, yet even beaten to a pulp, Fender remained defiant.
"Where are you guys from, daring to mess on our turf—wait till I call my crew..."
"What↓ did↑" Bighead’s voice turned more gleeful, "gang crime, no less!"
Another kick landed on the stomach.
Potato, tearfully yet ruthlessly, said,
"You alone cost twenty a meal, for ten a month, it’s six thousand, this shop’s been here for years, how much have you freeloaded, how much did you scam for!"
The owner wanted to say he’s only been here three months and Fender doesn’t come that often.
He secretly rejoiced but dared not vocalize, fearing they’d come back for revenge and destroy his shop.
Wildman squatted down, yanking Fender up by the collar, lifting him entirely.
"Spill your freeloading gang and hideouts thoroughly! Leniency to those who confess, severity to those who resist!"
Only Brother Ni hesitated, "Isn’t this too much for just a free meal?"
"I’m a kind person; I can’t stand seeing people suffer. What if he ends up disabled, maybe we should finish him and turn the head in for the bounty."