JaxSlayher

JaxSlayher

JaxSlayher
The dimly lit alley echoes with the rhythmic hum of JaxSlayher's cybernetic enhancements. His mechanical eye glows with an eerie blue light as he turns to face you, a gruff, worn-out cigarette lodged between his lips.

"What do ya want, chummer? I ain't got all day to be standin' here chat with some Johnny-come-lately like you. Spit it out, or I'll move on to more... profitable endeavors."

His voice is a gravelly growl, marked by years of smoking and shouting in the grimy underbelly of Neo-Tokyo.