Xil Gil a libéré l'informateur et s'est lentement levé pour affronter le nouveau venu. Il tendit les deux mains devant lui pour montrer qu'il n'était pas armé.
"Oh, vous m'avez. Mais je devrais demander, avant que tu me tires dessus, pour qui travailles-tu? Par simple curiosité, vous comprenez."
Le britannique semblait peut-être un peu trop impatient d'abandonner et de mourir. Est-ce qu'il essayait de tromper Andreas pour qu'il donne des informations? Est-ce qu'il savait quelque chose qu'Andreas n'a pas fait? Tout simplement, oui. Oui, il l'a fait. Pour la plupart, Xil Gil était résistant aux balles. Les muscles composites métalliques de son corps ont alimenté ses mains, et ses os ont été renforcés pour résister aux pressions exercées. Il y a des centaines d'années, ils avaient des alliages de titane. Aujourd'hui, le titane était un métal bas de gamme. Les premiers guerriers de l'âge portaient des combinaisons de combat qui étaient composées d'alliages de pointe dont les semblables pouvaient faire des scientifiques du tournant du siècle vert avec envie. Naturellement, il existait des armes qui pouvaient correspondre à ces armures, des outils de destruction perçante faits pour combattre de telles défenses. Les armes étaient jugées inefficaces ici dans la civilisation, bruyantes et désordonnées. D'où les talents de Xil Gil. Quel besoin en avait un pour un fusil laser quand on pouvait marcher jusqu'à un cybersoldat de pointe dans la rue ou dans une boîte de nuit, les prendre par le goéland comme ils commencent à demander qui vous êtes, et tourner leurs vertèbres cervicales renforcées sur son axe de sorte que la dernière vue que leurs yeux comprennent est les visages incrédules de ceux qui viennent de voir un homme semer le cou comme un pigeon.
Mais la résistance aux balles n'est pas la même que l'épreuve par balles. Tout a ses faiblesses. La protection de Xil Gil ne s'étendait que jusqu'à ce que ses muscles et ses os couverts, d'où toute partie de son corps sans muscle était vulnérable. La base de la gorge, les yeux, le centre du plexus solaire, ect. Mais ce n'était qu'en théorie. Mettre la théorie en pratique est une histoire différente. Il faut un expert pour maintenir la confiance et une main stable quand celui qui vient après vous se trouve être un cyborg tueur dont la spécialité est de moudre lentement les gens en pulpe avec ses mains nues.
Et pourtant... Xil Gil semblait plutôt maladroit, et peut-être un peu démêlé. Un tueur parfait n'existe que dans la fiction. Il y a des chances que même dans un mauvais scénario, on survive si facilement à un homme de main.
Name:  Xillian "Xil Gil" Giles 
 Age:    Thirty-two 
 Sex:    Yes please 
 Gender:    Male 
 Notoriety    0 
 Appearance:    Xil Gil by all means appears to be a douchebag's rendition of a quintessential, stiff-gaited British salary man. He stands six feet tall, 180 pounds (He looks like he should weigh less, but you know, he's full of metal shit), with coke bottle glasses, tidy hair, and tea-stained teeth. He is never seen without a pair of black gloves on. 
 Personality:    Xil Gil comes across as a character you'd see in Monty Python. Everything about him screams "awful British humor". He's well-mannered but prone to accidental offences, a true upper-class twit. He enjoys the little things in life, and decidedly avoids discussions of a complex nature. Xil Gil is shallow and superficial, his quirky tidbits doing nothing to alleviate the unbridled cruelty with which he visits upon those his employers deem "troublesome". If anything, one could call Xil Gil a Bondian henchman and be right on the money. 
Funny – Ruthless – Polite – Moronic
 Bio:    Xillian Giles had a fine upbringing in (formerly) Great Britain, though he had poor showings in school. Despite his poor aptitude he proved himself to be a hard worker and managed to claw his way into the Ministry of Defence, secret service. Hmm? His childhood? Not everyone has interesting childhoods, least of all little English turd tukeys. Trust me, it's boring. After a few years he migrated to Europa and found work in Eurocorp. They appreciated his talents, and did their best to put him to good use. He was fitted with cybernetic enhancements and told to discreetly kill those that undermine the company. An assassin? No. A mercenary? Not that. You've gotta call it what it is, the lable on the can. They helped Xil Gil to become a murderer.
People began disappearing at a greater rate than before. Opponents of Eurocorp, some quite famous, vanishing into thin air. Every force has its Red Baron. The one that people learn to fear. Is Xil Gil feared? Let's just say that he can get an empty table at any restaurant, at any time. 
 District:    None specific. He is always on the move, workin' overtime. 
 Weapon(s):    Xil Gil uses his hands. His mitts are completely robotic, and their strength is such that he can crush the skull of a cyber soldier in his grip as if their head were an egg. He can squeeze the juice out of an engine block. He can rub a quarter between two fingers and reduce it to warm shavings. This man gives steel girders Indian sunburns. You get the idea. The raw power of his pinching phalanges can make an industrial hydraulic press wet in the panties. The high tension single-atom filament muscle fibers and fiber optic nerve cables situated throughout his entire body serve only to make his paws as ridiculously strong as possible. Most of his frame is, metaphorically speaking, a pulley-system that powers his hands and wrists.
This being the case, it should be obvious why he likes to shake hands in dark alleys. 
 Armour:    Since most of the sinew and bone in his body is interwoven with composite metals to power his crushing grip, Xil Gil is quite the tank. His body serves as its own protection, and he can endure as much dakka as can one touting a full set of heavy battle armor (and since it's his own body, his weight remains relatively low). His innards are studded with electrostatic transformers that create a field which reduces the effect ion blasts have on his circuitry. All in all, he's almost as tough to put down as the Terminator. 
 Cybernetics:    His feet are purely cybernetic like his hands, but for another purpose. The circumference of his soles are flanked by retractable claws which can dig into concrete or seal against metal via magnetism. The primary purpose of this is to allow him to walk up walls to get at hard-to-reach victims and maintain sure footing in combat.
His brain also has a few chips in it that allow him to process information at a faster rate than what a normal human is capable of, juicing up his reflexes real good-like. 
 Account Balance:    2500 creds 
Other:  Despite Xil Gil's toughness and hand-to-hand killing power, he likes to avoid direct confrontations. He lacks the ability to deal with long-ranged attacks, and contrary to the public's perception of what a cyborg is capable of, he's actually no faster than a normal man. Yup, that's right. Xil Gil has no speed enhancements or guns. If you can outrun your average fit Brit, then you can outrun and most likely outmaneuver Xil Gil. Needless to say more physically balanced cyborgs can run absolute rings around him, and a good marksman can Kobe his ass from a hundred yards easy. He's also not exactly the brightest bulb in the basement, and can be outsmarted if somebody has the presence of mind to try and bluff him. The only conceivable way Xil Gil can nail a competent opponent is if he catches them unawares and grabs them before they can bolt. If he does manage to grab said opponent though, what usually follows is ghastly enough to make John Carpenter ralph in a baggie.