[ Usually when Jack comes here, it's with the intention to jump into the ring himself, though sometimes he's just here to bet or to try and gather information. In this case, he hasn't yet decided if he's going to throw his name onto the list, and it's as he's trying to make up his mind that someone speaks up.

He glances over, his visor firmly in place as it always is when he comes here. The fights clubs are meant to be exclusive to some degree, but they may as well be New Amsterdam's worst-kept secret. All the same, he figures it's best not to show his face if he can avoid it. And if he ends up in a fight against another Displaced, he won't have to worry about glowing chests if he takes a punch to the face. ]

You mean the prosthetics? A lot of people who come here have something that'll give them a leg up.

[ He draws a hand back through his hair, looking the woman over for a moment as he realizes she's vaguely familiar. One of the newbies? ]

A modded arm, or they're on something performance-enhancing. Whatever it takes.