Jurgen sighed. He was pretty sure he wanted the gig, but apparently he was going to have to get his own piece. He frowned to himself for a while, and signaled for another drink as he thought. "Aight, let's say I want the gig, where the hell do I get a piece around here? Do you sell 'em? I've never seen a place that sells weapons in my life." that wasn't quite true, but the cyborg wasn't going out of his way. He'd rather just stick with his relatively safe gig of getting Eve fights. As much as he wanted more money, if he was going to take a dangerous job, suiting up for it had to be easy. If Gerald didn't want to make this easy, he could take his contract and shove it somewhere.

"I'm all about the money here, Gerald, and Eve likes fighting. This gig might be a perfect fit, but if you're not going to help us get into the industry, we're not going to bust our asses to get ourselves killed. If you want your commission, why not give us a hand, eh?" Jurgen figured he would spell it out for the man, since he had been kind enough to offer. "What do you think, Eve, does that sound fair?" he asked his android, figuring her support might sway the bartender, since he seemed so enthralled by advanced robotics. She might even be able to convince the guy to help pay for a gun so that Jurgen could kill the target properly instead of having to punch the poor guy to death or something...