They came to Neo-Kowloon thirsty, leaving a trail of shattered chrome and spilled synth-blood. A blade danced, a shoulder screamed, and a barman's fate became their own. In the Circuit Breaker's neon glow, their final stand was a parry missed, a trip that failed, and a vibro-knife's cold embrace. Here lies a legend, cut down by the very thirst that drove them.