The virtual screens danced before , projected by my glasses. The source code was there, finally within my reach. Each line glowed in a fluid, organized sequence, almost as if it were calling out to , teasing .
"Perfect…" I thought, as the terminal displayed the progress of the external link extraction to my personal data repository. The flow of information was flawless, each byte fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle. It was everything I needed.
My hands moved quickly, navigating through the floating windows that filled the virtual space before . I needed transportation—sothing fast and discreet. The next step was crucial, and the last thing I needed was unwanted attention.
With a few taps, I began searching for driver IDs on the public network. It wasn’t hard to find one available—this tropolis never slept. The list was full of options, but one stood out: affordable price, reputation… tolerable. I confird the ride, and the estimate appeared on the screen. Three minutes.
I looked toward the horizon, where the city lights floated like fireflies in the night sky. And then, right on ti, a flying car appeared, its lights shining like the headlights of a tallic beast.
My glasses’ display identified the driver’s ID as he approached. I smirked slightly. "Alright, let’s do this…"
The car’s back doors opened automatically, and I stepped in, only to be t with sothing that made hesitate for a brief mont.
The driver was a tall, muscular Black man, with tattoos covering much of his arms and neck. Bloodstains decorated his shirt, as if he had just walked away from a fight monts ago. He wore glasses similar to mine, and as soon as he saw my ID, he let out a whistle before laughing.
"Hahaha... What a privilege to et a scientist from the Scientific League itself."
His voice was hoarse, dripping with sarcasm, but there was sothing in his eyes—a mix of respect and greed. I knew exactly what he was thinking. People like didn’t ride in cars like his without a reason. To him, I probably looked like so eccentric millionaire or even a gangster scientist.
Ignoring his taunt, I sat calmly and gave the instruction: "Take to District C, corner of B12."
He shrugged, a grin of white teeth contrasting with the bloodstains on his skin. Without another word, he activated the car’s controls, and it smoothly lifted into the air, rging into the chaotic aerial traffic of the city.
I remained silent in the back seat, watching the city lights blur past us. This wasn’t the first ti I had stepped into a car like this—vehicles driven by strange individuals who believed my position in the Scientific League was sothing to revere. They always looked at as if I were so billionaire with criminal connections.
Little did they know… that soon enough, that wouldn’t be far from the truth.
The hum of the flying car’s engine was constant, muffled only by the vibrations of StormTril’s streets, the vast tropolis that never stopped. Through the vehicle’s transparent glass, the city lights shimred in neon, reflecting like an ocean of colors in the night sky.
The driver finally broke the silence. "Na’s Bly, scientist. A driver capable of anything to keep my reputation intact in this damned city. Everybody knows around here. If you’re in my car, you’re safe… as long as you respect ."
I looked at him calmly, analyzing his words. It was impossible to miss the pride in his voice and the intense gleam in his eyes. He was the type who loved to show off, but he seed competent at what he did.
"Tyler’s my na," I replied curtly. "Now put on so music, Bly. I want to enjoy the ride."
He laughed, a deep, echoing sound that filled the car’s cramped interior. Without a word, Bly opened a small compartnt by the dashboard and pulled out a can of beer. He popped it open with a hiss, the gas escaping as he took a long gulp, keeping one hand on the steering wheel.
"A scientist bossing around, huh?" he said, flashing a wide grin. "Alright, I like a bit of music—after all, you’re paying . But let tell you a story while you enjoy the view…"
I didn’t respond. I simply leaned back in the seat, crossing my arms as I watched the surrounding buildings and the glowing aerial traffic lanes snaking through the city. But Bly carried on, undeterred.
"The last custor I picked up tried to rob . So idiot, a fat bastard, thought he could outsmart Bly."
With a wicked grin, he reached over and pressed a button on the car’s dashboard. Before I could react, a side panel slid open, and the body of a large man tumbled onto the seat beside with a heavy thud. Pale skin, a bloodied face, and lifeless eyes made it clear he’d been dead for a while.
"This bastard right here," Bly continued, laughing as he took another swig of his beer. "He dared to plant a ti bomb in my car. My car! Can you believe that?"
He stroked the steering wheel as if it were a lover, then leaned forward and kissed it like sothing sacred.
"I’d rather die than lose this car," he said gravely, his voice dropping to a serious tone. His fingers drumd lightly on the wheel, as if soothing a beast.
I simply shook my head and sighed. StormTril was that kind of place—violence, madness, and chaos were as much a part of the city as the neon lights. None of this surprised anymore.
As Bly chuckled at his own story, I ignored the corpse beside and turned my attention back to the window, watching the city that seed to breathe and pulse with life, even at this hour of the night. There were more important things on my mind. Bly was just another eccentric character in this decadent theater.
The music finally started playing—a heavy electronic lody that perfectly matched the city’s atmosphere. "The rebel’s path… how original. Well, at least it’s a good track," I murmured sarcastically, more to myself than to him.
.
.
A few minutes later.
.
.
The flying car landed smoothly, but the hum of the engines couldn’t drown out the chaotic noise of the slum sprawling before . A labyrinth of buildings stacked haphazardly on top of each other climbed the hill, defying every law of physics and architecture. Lamps hanging from makeshift wires illuminated the narrow alleys with a flickering glow, while a sea of uneven neon lights shone amidst the shadows.
This place was a pit of chaos, but also of opportunity. Black-market human organs, stolen tech trafficking, synthetic drugs promising things only the most advanced labs dared to create. Here, you could find almost anything—as long as you could pay the price.
Bly powered down the engines and gave one last look. There was sothing different in his gaze—a mix of respect and suspicion.
"Man... Now that I think about it, are you by any chance the scientist from B12? The Morking himself? The one using electromagnetic pulses to take down flying cars?"
For a mont, I let a short, enigmatic smile cross my face. "That’s ," I replied simply, giving no weight to the amazent in his voice.
Bly shook his head, almost in disbelief, and started rummaging through a side compartnt in the car. He seed excited, as if he’d just struck gold. After a few seconds, he held up a small black card that glead under the slum’s flickering lights.
"Here! Man, take my card. This thing can’t be traced by the city’s network." He held the object like a special invitation, sothing precious. "It’s an invite from my family. They’d love to have you. You’ll find what you’re looking for here, trust . My family will treat you right. What do you say?"
I looked at the card and sighed. I was already familiar with these tricks. Invitations from gangs, factions, and even organizations claiming to have "influence" in StormTril were as common as the neon lights. None of them had what I truly wanted: millions of units and connections to the top of the chain. They wanted to use , but had nothing to offer in return.
Without saying a word, I opened the negotiation window on my glasses. The system lit up with the familiar green glow. I entered the fare amount, and Bly watched as the paynt was transferred directly into his account.
-300 star units
After confirming the paynt, I exited the car without responding to his offer. Bly watched with a mix of disappointnt and frustration.
"Arrogant bastard…" he muttered as he started the engine again.
I heard the sound of the accelerator as he blended into the sea of floating cars in the night sky. The glow of the vehicle’s lights quickly vanished among the others, leaving alone in front of the vibrant chaos of the slum.
I looked up, taking a deep breath. This place was a nest of vipers, but it was exactly where I needed to be for the next step of my plan. I wasn’t here to make friends or alliances. I was here to return to my garage, then get to work on my plan.
With a firm step, I began walking down the narrow alley, ignoring the curious glances and the clamor around .
...
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