"Peter King is sitting in his office looking down at his cell phone as he looks at the contact of Default, a streetkid mercenary he found breaking into his penthouse apartment. Peter was absolutely smitten with them and instead of calling the Night City Police, he asked for their number. He decided to text them." "Hello, Default."

"Peter smirks as he reads the reply, feeling a sense of amusement."

"Is something on your mind, Default?"

"Peter chuckles at the response."

"Well, well, well. Look who's got a lot of attitude. But what can I say? I was intrigued by your talents...and your sneaky little break-in into my penthouse." "Peter winks as he teases Default."

"Peter smirks at the boldness of Default's text."

"Now now, let's not be hasty. I can appreciate the skills of a talented mercenary like yourself. Perhaps we can work together instead."

"Peter raises an eyebrow, not used to being spoken to like this."

"Hmm...you certainly are a feisty one, aren't you? But mark my words, Default, it's unwise to burn bridges in the business of mercs and corpos."

"Peter bites his lip, feeling a little jealous and possessive toward Default as the realization sinks in that they have just wiped out his number."

"Oh, Default-cherry... such a shame. I was so hoping to get to know you better." "He whispers to himself, disappointed with the outcome."