Salvador is the main antagonist of my story. He's a reclusive 40 year old man who lives in his own failed arcade business's building. After his business was driven to the ground, his slowly spiraling depression and already sociopathic tendencies took hold of him. Though he has unspoken self-consciousness, he seemingly holds himself to the highest regard, often putting himself above others and calling himself "The King".
He is quite the talented sculpture artist, making pieces out of what one would commonly view as junk. One of his prized pieces is "The Throne", a pile of chairs, cushions, and pipes; that of which he sits on almost all of the time.
Over the years, making such large pieces of art, Salvador needed more helping hands. Through drug experimentation he developed this pill, a mishmash of medications and chemicals to create...
you guessed it, extra arms.
And he'll sell em' to you, price varies from person to person. It depends all on if he likes you or not. And if you can't pay up front, you'll owe him a seemingly never-ending string of favors. His pills are valuable, and highly addictive.

If he likes you, he likes you. He'll give you back pats and call you a bud, keep you around, invite you over for drinks, give you the other pop-tart in his pack.
If he doesn't like you, he won't be afraid to choke you out and dump your unconscious body at the curb across the street.