Peter glanced around the room, taking in the various items scattered about.
"You've got a lot of stuff in here, Curry."
His eyes landed on a belt lying on the table. He picked it up and examined it before turning to Jack.
"This belt yours? I don't recall seeing you wear pants that need one."
Jack's expression darkened slightly.
"This? It's a long story," he said, exhaling deeply. "This belt belonged to my b*****d father. He used to work under Valentino, but the guy had no real skills. His only talent was using this belt to beat me and my mother."
Jack's voice was steady, but Peter could sense the restrained anger beneath the surface.
"Every time it happened, my mother would hold me in her arms, shielding me as best she could. Even though I got beaten badly, I always tried my hardest not to fall."
Jack clenched his fists, his eyes clouded with past memories.
"But when I turned fourteen, I fought back. I beat that old b*****d so hard he landed in the hospital. Told him that if he ever laid a hand on my mother again, I'd kill him."
Jack let out a small, mirthless chuckle.
"After that, he disappeared. Ran off, never came back."
Peter studied Jack's face before asking, "Then why keep the belt?"
Jack smirked, his eyes flashing with something dark.
"Why? Because if he ever does come back, I'm gonna use this belt to beat the hell out of him."
Peter knew from Jack's expression that he wasn't joking. But despite everything, he couldn't help but admire him. Jack had gone through hell and still turned out to be a cheerful person. Most people either became broken or twisted under such circumstances. Jack was different.
Shaking off the somber mood, Peter turned the conversation to something else.
"Jack, I've been thinking... I want V to manage the team for a while."
Jack frowned. "Why? You think we're too weak? Old Wei still has a few heavy-hammer prosthetic bodies. Both David and I can install them."
Peter shook his head.
"Look at you—you've already got a military-grade gorilla arm and fourth-level subcutaneous armor. That's about the limit of what your body can handle."
Jack sighed. He knew Peter had a point. Any more enhancements would put too much strain on his system.
"I don't want to abandon you guys," Peter continued. "But I have something I need to work on."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Something to develop? Spill it."
Peter rolled his eyes. "You're always so impatient. Let me explain first."
Jack smirked, waiting for Peter to continue.
"I got some information from a technician in Araba. I want to use it to create something new."
Jack's smirk widened. "So you're going into the prosthetics business?"
"More like improving existing prosthetics," Peter corrected.
Jack nodded slowly, beginning to understand. If Peter was serious about this, he wouldn't have the time to run the team properly.
"By the way," Peter added, pulling out a small device, "I made this chip. It should help reduce the mental strain prosthetics put on the body."
Jack's eyes widened as he took the chip. "You're telling me this thing can stop prosthetic-induced cyberpsychosis?"
Peter rolled his eyes again.
"If it were military-grade or from the Araban Group, we'd be in the middle of the fifth corporate war already," he scoffed. "I made it myself. The chip alone is worth ten thousand euros, not to mention the data inside."
Jack whistled. "Damn. And you're giving it to me for free?"
"Think of it as a test run. Try it with your prosthetic and let me know how it feels."
Jack didn't hesitate. He walked over to the garage, where a special sandbag hung from the ceiling—something he installed to train with his gorilla arm.
"Alright, let's see what this thing can do," Jack said, plugging in the chip.
He threw a punch.
Boom!
The sandbag shook violently. He threw another.
Boom!
After about half a minute of continuous strikes, Jack took a step back, frowning.
"It doesn't feel any different," he muttered, scratching his head.
Peter folded his arms. "No side effects?"
"Nope. Just feels the same as always."
Peter smirked. "Then it's working."
Jack blinked. "Huh?"
Peter chuckled. "Usually, after using your gorilla arm, you feel an urge to keep punching, right? Like you can't stop yourself?"
Jack's eyes widened. That was true. Normally, the urge was overwhelming. But now... he felt completely normal.
"Holy s**t," Jack muttered.
Peter patted his shoulder. "Keep using it and let me know if anything changes."
With that, they returned to the Wild Wolf Bar.
As soon as Peter stepped inside, Rebecca sauntered over, holding two drinks.
"Hey, Peter! Stop wasting time with that meathead and have a drink with me!"
Peter smiled but shook his head. "Sorry, I have some business with V and the others. Rain check?"
Rebecca pouted. "Again? You're seriously hard to get."
Peter chuckled. "Next time, the drinks are on me."
He pointed to V, Lucy, and Sasha sitting upstairs before heading toward them.
Watching him go, Rebecca sighed and returned to her seat.
"You struck out again?" Dorio teased.
Rebecca groaned. "Why the hell haven't I grown yet?"
Dorio laughed. "Patience, kid. These things take time."
Upstairs, Peter approached V and the others. V smirked.
"Didn't expect you up here so soon. Rebecca's gonna start thinking you're avoiding her."
Lucy chuckled, while Sasha gave him a complicated look.
Peter waved off the comment. "V, I need to talk to you about something important."
V's smirk faded. He could tell Peter was serious.
"Alright. What's up?"
"I want you to take over managing the team for a while. I need time to focus on my research."
V and Lucy exchanged glances.
Peter had always tinkered with tech in his spare time, but this was different. Handing over leadership meant he was truly committed to something big.
After a moment, V nodded. "If it's what you want, I'll support you."
Peter smiled.
But then V added, "Now that we're done with your business, it's time we talk about something else—you."
Peter's expression stiffened.
---